miles and then lift weights. Painful in the extreme, I should think!"
"And what sort of painful effort do you put forth, Court?" Leya demanded, eager to put him at least vaguely on the defensive.
"My effort is that of acting with a semblance of civilized behavior when what I really want to do is reach out and drag you straight into bed," he retorted immediately, eyes darkening with a sudden intensity that was unnerving.
Leya felt the blood rush into her face. She had walked right into that one.
They stopped for dinner early in the evening, and it was dark before Court, following Leya's terse directions, finally drew his very sleek foreign car to a halt in the quiet neighborhood.
For a moment, he sat in silence surveying the old two-story structure with its encircling porch, graceful windows, and gingerbread trim. The new wooden siding was painted a rich butterscotch and the trim was in white. Her home dated from a wanner, more inviting era of house design, and Leya had taken loving care of it in the two years she had owned it.
"You live here?" Court's voice held something besides admiration, and Leya's head swung around sharply. What could he possibly find to criticize about her beautiful home?
"Yes," she told him tartly.
"Alone? In a big place like this?" His considering, dangerous glance told its own tale.
"It's a bit late to be worrying about who I might be living with, isn't it?" she taunted.
"It's a bit late for you to be telling me about it," he corrected in a hard, raw voice that alarmed her. "It's better late than never, I suppose. Let's get it over." He shoved open the car door with a savage push.
Leya saw the thin, brutal line of his mouth, the uncompromising set of his shoulders, and realized she was looking at a man who had psyched himself into a battle-ready frame of mind in about five seconds flat.
"Court!" she yelped belatedly, realizing what she'd done. Hastily, she scrambled out of her side of the car and raced forward to catch his arm.
"Court, there's no one in there," she said breathlessly, tugging at his sleeve, "Stop acting the demented lover! The neighbors might see you!"
"If he's not there, where is he?" Court ripped out, shooting her a look of smoldering rage. "When does he get home at night? Or have you two got some sort of modern relationship? One that lets you go off on vacation while he does the town? I warn you, it's not going to be like that between us!"
Leya swallowed, realizing with inner disgust that it was going to be harder calming Court back into a rational state than it had been getting him out of it in the first place.
Was he really this upset at the thought of her living with a man? Was his interest in her more than merely business? She didn't have time to dwell on the possibility now,
"Don't be ridiculous," she ordered disdainfully. "I'm not sharing that house with anyone. It's all mine! But it certainly wouldn't be your concern if I did have a male roommate," she went on spiritedly, her eyes glittering. "What in the world did you think you were going to accomplish by barging into my home like that, even if there had been someone there?"
"That's obvious! I'd have thrown him out!" The adrenaline in him was fading, but the expression in the molten eyes remained hard.
"You'd have had absolutely no right! I've given you no excuse to think ..."
"Are we going to stand on your front porch and discuss what has turned out to be a purely hypothetical point?" he asked with sudden rough humor, his hand grasping the long dark braid on her shoulder and tugging affectionately.
"Yes, we most certainly are! We're going to get something very clear between us, Court Tremayne! I
will not have you embarrassing me in front of friends and neighbors ..."
"Never," he promised solemnly. "Wouldn't think of it!" The outrageously pious expression on his face made her want to hit him.
"Nor will I have you making scenes with any of my male friends," she emphasized.
"How many of them are