Affair of Honor (11 page)

He was chewing his toast and contemplating her question. “To tell you the truth I can see you going either way,” he finally stated with a nod. “You might run just to see if I really will come after you.”

“That would be childish in the extreme!” she snapped, incensed because the question had leaped into her mind the moment he had suggested the fact that she might actually choose to run away. Would he come after her? It was useless to speculate. Brenna Llewellyn didn’t resort to such emotional tricks. She had been trained to deal with problems much more intelligently than that!

“Not childish, but perhaps tritely feminine,” he corrected judiciously. “To save you the bother, I’ll tell you right now that I would, indeed, come after you. And I probably wouldn’t be in the best of moods when I found you, either. But if I had to bet on the most likely reaction, my money would be on the side that says you’ll stay and battle this out even though the conclusion is a foregone one after last night.”

“Hardly!”

One tawny brow arched in cool mockery. “The conclusion
is
foregone, lady, but if it will soothe your frazzled nerves I’ll reassure you that I’m still willing to wait. Just as I was willing to wait last night. I won’t push you back into bed.”

“You’re too generous!” Brenna couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The morning was shaping up disastrously!

The brackets at the edge of his mouth softened although he didn’t quite smile. “It’s not a question of generosity, Brenna. It’s just that I know you well enough to realize that what happened last night happened a little too soon. I knew it at the time but I did warn you that I’d hold you to your decision. This morning you’re feeling panicked and unnerved and I’d just as soon you didn’t run away from me, so I’m giving you the time you need to settle everything in your own head to your satisfaction. There are obviously some other major decisions awaiting you in regard to your career. You’ve clearly got enough on your mind without having to worry about what you’ll do if I try to carry you off to bed.”

“You’re so damn sure of yourself,” she whispered incredulously.

“It’s not me I’m sure of, it’s you. You’re a woman of honor—I know you won’t be able to turn your back on what happened between us last night. You only need a little time to deal with it. Don’t panic, lady, I’m a very patient man when the goal is this important,” he concluded kindly.

Brenna swallowed, stricken. “Aren’t you reading a great deal into one rather reckless night?”

He did smile this time, memories dancing in his eyes. “It was reckless, wasn’t it? All things considered, you’re turning out to have quite a streak of recklessness in your makeup. Did you know that about yourself before this summer?”

For some reason tears began to threaten behind Brenna’s amber eyes. It was all too much. She didn’t know how to cope with everything happening at once like this: the crisis in her career; the crisis with this man. He was right about one thing, she thought wretchedly, she did need time. Brenna got to her feet in a quick, convulsive movement, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “If you’ll excuse me,” she began very formally, striving to conquer the tears, “I’m going to take a walk. It’s been a difficult morning.” She turned half blindly and left the cabin.

Half an hour later she sat, knees drawn up and arms resting on top of them, and gazed out over the crystal-blue lake. She had found the small private cove a short distance from the cabin and it was exactly the place she needed. The tears had never actually fallen, to her vast relief. They had been a product of frustration and panic, and she was proud to have resisted the impulse to cry for such reasons. She could handle her life successfully without resorting to tears. Hadn’t she always managed to do so?

But she needed to think and so far she hadn’t gotten very far with the process. She still felt too on edge, too hemmed in, and a little frightened. The thought of calling her brother occurred briefly and was immediately dismissed. There was nothing he could do and a full explanation of the situation would only anger him. That thought brought a wry twist to her mouth. He wasn’t altogether unlike Ryder in his reactions. He’d come out of the corner fighting on her behalf even though this was clearly a case where violence was not very useful. It never was, she reminded herself staunchly.

A faint warning tingle made her glance up sharply to see Ryder emerging on catlike feet from the pines behind her. He was carrying a couple of books and a thermos.

“It’s a perfect day to sit and read by the lake with a cup of hot tea, isn’t it?” he inquired conversationally, sinking down beside her with a masculine grace that stirred up images of last night in her mind. The silver eyes met hers with a measure of understanding and reassurance.

“Ryder, I don’t—”

“I brought you a book,” he interrupted quietly, unscrewing the cap of the thermos.

Automatically she glanced down at the two volumes resting on his lap. One was the philosophy text she had thrown at him and the other was one of his own adventure tales, complete with lurid cover.

“Thanks,” she told him stiffly, “but I’m not in the mood to study philosophy at the moment.”

“I brought the philosophy book for me to read.” he murmured, handing her a mug of tea. “I brought the other book for you.”

Their eyes locked as his meaning registered. “You want me to read one of your stories?”

“I know the stuff isn’t exactly your taste in fiction, and I know I’m not the most brilliant of authors, but I would like you to read one of my books. Will you?”

“Why?” she heard herself ask huskily, picking up the paperback in his lap and examining it curiously.

“Because there’s something of me in my books and you’re an intelligent woman. You’ll find it. Maybe in the process you’ll learn something about me.”

She felt dazed, taken totally off guard. “And you’re going to tackle that book of philosophical readings?”

“I’m interested in finding out more about what you do for a living,” he answered smilingly, leaning back against the large boulder behind him and opening the textbook.

“There’s no point in this exercise,” she protested halfheartedly, focusing on the cover of the paperback. “We’re totally unlike, Ryder. What are you hoping to accomplish?”

“I’ve told you, a little mutual understanding. I think it’s important since we’re going to be living together,” he added, already flipping through the introductory pages of the book and studying the table of contents.

“Living together! Are you crazy? Ryder, last night was a mistake, you must see that!”

“Why?” he asked simply, lifting his head to study her earnest face.

“Because you’re assuming far too much from what happened!”

The silvery gaze moved over her. “The night you came sneaking through my window I knew I wanted you. Last night you proved you want me.”

“That’s not sufficient grounds on which to make a decision like living together,” she got out huskily. The tension his words generated in her was frightening. A part of her longed to agree with him, to surrender herself to the summer and to him.

“We also happen to need each other, lady,” he told her coolly.

“How can you say that? We hardly even know each other,” she exploded.

“I can’t explain it completely, not yet. I don’t have all the right words. But I’m sure of the feeling. Maybe that’s why I want you to read my book. Perhaps I’m hoping you’ll understand something of what I’m trying to say.”

She felt helpless in the face of the quiet plea. She was right, of course, there was no point to the exercise, but she didn’t know how to refuse him. Brenna glanced down again at the paperback he had given her.

“What if this doesn’t work? What if I’m still of the same opinion after I finish the book as I am now?”

“I don’t think you’ve got any clear-cut opinions right now.” He chuckled. “You’re much too mixed up at the moment to be thinking with any great clarity.”

“Hardly a good time to be studying your character through your stories,” she retorted, knowing already that she was going to do as he asked and read the book.

“I’ll take my chances.”

“Maybe you’re the one who will be put off by my character when you get into that long, dry book of philosophy readings!” she challenged, settling back against the same sun-warmed rock he was leaning on. “Have you thought about that? You’re likely to realize I’m merely a dull, staid, unapproachable teacher of a subject that never interested you much in the first place.”

“Is that how you see yourself?” he asked in amusement.

Her mouth turned downward a little ruefully. “To tell you the truth, I’ve never thought of myself or my profession as dull and unapproachable, but I’m fully aware that others might see both that way.”

“There’s not much this book could do to change the image I already have of you, lady.” Ryder grinned. “It’s just going to give me a little more complete view, that’s all.”

Brenna hesitated, wanting to ask him exactly how he did see her but not quite having the nerve. Instead she said casually, “Ryder, about last night…”

He leaned forward and stopped her words by the simple expedient of sealing her mouth with a slow kiss. It was a lingering, tasting caress that spoke of remembered ecstasy and satisfaction. It spoke of satiated hunger that could be roused again with very little provocation. Brenna stayed quite still beneath the impact of it, finding it strangely soothing after the chaos of the morning.

“Let’s not spoil last night with any more words, sweet lady,” he growled, lifting his head with obvious reluctance.

Fingers trembling very faintly, Brenna picked up the paperback novel in her lap.

I
t was called
The Quicksilver Venture
and the cover guaranteed it to be another tale of action and intrigue by Justin Murdock. The artwork featured the predictably lusty, well-muscled hero, menaced apparently by an assortment of cobras. The beautiful woman sprawled in terror at his feet was a redhead this time, and while the pose was decidedly sensual, Brenna had the impression that the manner in which she was clinging to the hero’s ankle was hampering his attempt to defend them both from the cobras. He was armed only with a thin-bladed knife.

Not quite certain why she had let herself be talked into reading the paperback when, by rights, she should have been trying to sort out the growing confusion of her career and her relationship with Damon Fielding, Brenna turned the page and began to read Perhaps it was a form of procrastination, she told herself fleetingly. Things were happening in her life, forcing choices upon her that she really didn’t want to face. Reading
The Quicksilver Venture
was a way of avoiding the facts. Or was it? she wondered as she began to read.

In spite of herself, Brenna experienced a flicker of wry amusement at the memory of how she had awakened Ryder that first night. Then the amusement faded rather abruptly. Perhaps she’d been rather lucky!

The action-packed tale moved quickly. By the end of the first chapter the hero, one Hunt Cameron, found himself immersed in a dangerous mission to bring a defector known only as Quicksilver out of Eastern Europe. But the relatively straightforward adventure was given a few twists. Cameron was assigned to work with a beautiful new agent, Cassandra Vaughn, who, Brenna presumed, was the redhead on the cover. Cassandra, apparently, was from a modern, technologically sophisticated school of espionage. She was highly skilled in computer-assisted analysis techniques, used the latest in communications gadgets, and was trained to work by the book. Quicksilver was to be her first mission.

Hunt Cameron, on the other hand, had thrown out the book years ago in order to stay alive in the field. He relied on such unscientific things as hunches, well-developed instincts, and a very non-routine way of handling matters. The only tool in which he put any trust was the stiletto he carried always, even to bed. He didn’t bother to take the risk of trusting people. Hunt and Cass clashed from the moment they met.

Underlying the conflict between the admittedly chauvinistic professional and the lovely, disdainful beginner was, of course, an undeniable physical attraction. Of course. Brenna found herself reading the love scenes with great attention.

At lunchtime she and Ryder, by quiet agreement, went back to his cabin for a sandwich and more tea. They ate in near silence, and Brenna was conscious of a certain restlessness to finish the story. Ryder eyed her obliquely but made no move to detain her. Within half an hour they were both back at the cove, immersed in their reading.

Out on the shimmering lake the occasional outboard roared past. The sun gleamed on the cold water. It was a peaceful mountain setting and Brenna read the remainder of
The Quicksilver Venture
without interruption. She was aware of Ryder beside her, seemingly engrossed in the book of philosophy readings, but all her attention was on the breakneck pace of the paperback adventure in her hands.