Affair of Honor (20 page)

“Dr. Fielding and I held several discussion on the topic before I wrote the paper. He made some extraordinarily insightful comments and suggestions. So many, in fact, that, although he insists he doesn’t want any credit, I’m going to see to it that his name goes on that paper as well as my own. No, no, Fielding, don’t bother to argue. I believe in giving credit where credit is due, and you know full well I would never have written that paper without your urging and your helpful contributions. It was truly a joint effort, and I’m going to see to it that you receive proper acknowledgment. Some of those conclusions were brilliant, positively brilliant!”

Brenna swung her wide-eyed gaze to Damon. Behind her Ryder sipped sherry, his cool, watchful, prepared attitude registering itself on Brenna’s consciousness.

“You contributed
significantly
to Dr. Humphrey’s paper?” she breathed. “Exactly what contributions did you make, Dr. Fielding? By any chance were the sections on Humanist ethics and twentieth-century logic your work?”

Before a grim and desperate-looking Damon could reply, Dr. Humphrey was again interrupting expansively. “Oh, yes, Dr. Fielding made a number of points in that area. He also brought in the rather unusual sections on Aristotelian thinking, didn’t you, Damon?”

Brenna’s fingers gripped the little sherry glass until her knuckles whitened. All of those interpretations and analyses had been hers. All of them!

“And the comments on Kant?” she pursued relentlessly.

“Brenna, I can explain…”

“If you two will excuse me,” Humphrey murmured, “I think I’ll let you get on with this discussion. I do have an obligation to circulate this evening.” He chuckled. “Have to let everyone show how much they’ll miss me!” He patted Damon paternally on the shoulder and moved off with a curious glance and nod at Ryder.

He wasn’t the only one flicking a glance at the silent Ryder. Damon’s expression of grim desperation was tightening. Brenna stared at him.

“Damon, how could you?” she whispered fiercely. “You stole my work. You knew those notes were in my desk drawer. It must have been easy for you. And I spent so much time telling you about my project. It must have been simple for you to outline the best portions and feed them to Dr. Humphrey as your own ‘contributions.’ But why? I don’t understand
why
.”

“Brenna, I can explain,” Damon began, his eyes still moving nervously from her to Ryder and back. “But this is between you and me. What’s
he
doing here? Get rid of him!”

For the first time Ryder spoke, not moving from his position at Brenna’s shoulder. His voice was very gentle and, therefore very, very menacing.

“I don’t believe in letting my woman handle the bloody work on her own, even though she’s got the guts to do it.”

“The bloody work!” Damon looked quite dazed.

“She thinks I’m something of a chauvinist, but that’s the way it is.” Ryder shrugged, downing a swallow of the rich sherry. His cool glance moved meaningfully over Brenna’s taut features as she looked up at him and met his eyes directly for the first time since he had entered the room. “Well?” he said blandly. “Is he the one?” He indicated Damon with a casual thumb.

“Apparently so,” she got out tightly.

“Brenna, it was a matter of establishing myself firmly enough in Humphrey’s mind that he would make an effort to handpick his own successor. Whoever he names will get the nod for department head! Don’t you see? In that position I can help both of us!”

“What do you want done with him, lady?” There was a subtle anticipation in Ryder’s words that Damon reacted to immediately. He stepped back a pace even though the other man hadn’t moved.

“Brenna, this is ridiculous. I can see you’re not prepared to listen to reason,” Damon sputtered furiously.

“Forget it, Ryder,” Brenna murmured icily. “I only came here tonight to tell the guilty party what I thought of his actions. That’s already been accomplished, hasn’t it, Damon? You surely know what I think of you. Your climb up the academic ladder should be interesting. What will you think of yourself when you get to the top, I wonder?”

Before her colleague could reply, Brenna swung around on a yellow-heeled shoe and put her hand lightly on Ryder’s arm. “I’m ready to go now,” she told him, lifting her chin proudly. “I’ve done what I came to do.”

“You’re satisfied?” he asked, searching her face intently.

“Yes, I’m satisfied. Please get me out of here.”

“My pleasure.”

R
yder led her toward the door with an arrogant disregard for the discreetly curious glances they were receiving. Brenna found herself aware of the expressions of her friends and colleagues but in that moment found them fading into unimportance compared with the absolutely critical matter she had to discuss with Ryder. Now that it was behind her, even the scene with Damon was no longer the most vital issue in her world. As soon as the door closed behind them, she glared up at his profile.

“Why did you follow me? I told you I’d come back to Tahoe!”

“I know what you told me, lady,” he drawled softly.

“But you didn’t believe me, is that it? You thought I’d run? Ryder, I gave you my word!” She came to a decisive halt on the sidewalk and he obediently stopped too, somehow contriving to maneuver her into the light of the streetlamp.

“I know you gave me your word. That’s not why I decided to show up tonight,” he stated evenly.

“Then why are you here?” she rasped huskily.

“For the reason I gave Fielding, naturally. What else?” He took her arm again and started her along the sidewalk.

“The reason you gave Damon! Oh!” Brenna’s lashes closed briefly in sudden comprehension. Then she opened them to slant him a sidelong glance. “You drove all the way down here from Tahoe just to be around in case there was any, uh, ‘bloody’ work that needed doing?” She found herself remembering how the hero in
The Quicksilver Venture
always stepped in to handle the dirty business so that Cass didn’t have to face me danger alone. It had been a manifestation of Hunt Cameron’s chauvinism. It had also been a manifestation of his caring.

“Even though you aren’t violence-prone”—Ryder broke off to touch the side of his face absently in memory—“or at least not generally prone toward it, I still didn’t want you tackling the guy who stole your material by yourself. It’s not that I didn’t think you could handle it, I just didn’t want you doing it alone. I have the right to look after you now, Brenna,” he concluded flatly. “I have the right to stand by you when you’re facing something serious.”

“The right!” Brenna dragged them both to another forcible halt, narrowing her eyes ferociously as she peered up at him. “The
right
! Ryder Sterne, you’re a chauvinistic, arrogant male who has presumed far too much, assumed too many rights, made too many claims since we first met, but—” She had to stop to catch her breath.

“But?” he repeated, his hands moving slowly up and down her arms. He seemed concerned by her outburst, but utterly determined.

“But at least a woman always knows exactly where she stand with you,” Brenna admitted frankly. “And she always knows where you yourself will stand: beside her when she needs you. Thank you for coming tonight, Ryder.” Impulsively she stood on tiptoe, bracing herself with her hands on his shoulders, and brushed her lips lightly against his firm mouth.

Then she swept on toward the parking lot without giving him a chance to react. He paced silently beside her to where she had parked her car, not speaking until he had opened her door for her.

“I’ll wait for you in Tahoe,” he told her calmly, handing back the keys he had taken long enough to unlock the door. “Drive carefully tomorrow.”

Brenna paused in the act of slipping into the front seat, confused. “You’re going back? Tonight?”

“Yes. I only came down in case there were fireworks. That’s the truth, lady.” He smiled warmly into her anxious eyes.

“Not because you didn’t trust me to return?”

“I trust you to keep your word.”

She caught her breath at the look in his eyes. “It’s a long drive back,” she whispered tentatively.

“I’ll be all right.”

“You could stay here,” she pointed out in a little rush.

He shook his head. “I want you to know I trust you. Drive carefully, lady. I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow. Go back to your apartment tonight and get some sleep. You’ve had a rough evening.” He shut her car door and stepped back, waiting until she reluctantly started the engine before he walked over to the Ferrari and climbed inside. They went their separate ways as they drove out of the campus parking lot.

She could follow him back tonight, Brenna told herself, watching the Ferrari disappear in the rearview mirror. Why hadn’t he encouraged her to do exactly that? Because he knew she needed some time by herself in which to think? He was a very perceptive man. She
did
need time to think. A lot of the problems she’d been struggling with had resolved themselves this evening: her future in the academic world, her knowledge of what she wanted out of life, and her acceptance of her relationship with Ryder. Yes, she needed time to think, not to come to conclusions but to adjust to the conclusions that had made themselves plain tonight. It was like studying philosophy, she thought as she drove back to her apartment. You could go over and over a complex bit of logic without understanding it, and then all at once everything fell into place.

For her that falling into place had occurred when she’d looked across the room and seen Ryder walking toward her, asserting his right to be at her side.

He might find the concept of love sloppy and sentimental, Brenna decided the next morning as she repacked the small overnight bag she’d brought with her and locked the apartment again for the summer, but Ryder knew all there was to know about the fundamentals behind the word. More than Damon Fielding would ever know, she added silently to herself as she began the long drive back to Lake Tahoe.

She might disagree with Ryder’s way of doing things from time to time, but her respect for him would never be lowered. He was a man who understood the basics of what she had been trying so hard to teach this past semester in Ethics 205. And he’d arrived at that understanding on his own. She wasn’t sure where the commitment she was making to him would lead, but she knew for certain that she would be able to trust his commitment to her completely.

The drive back to Tahoe seemed to take forever, but she was on the winding lakeside drive by morning and turning into the lane that led to the cabins shortly thereafter. It was only a summer place but she felt as if she were coming home.

She couldn’t explain the wave of shyness that momentarily assailed her as she braked the car to a halt in front of the cabin and saw Ryder coming toward her from behind the house. He set the bow and quiver of arrows he had been using aside on the porch as he came forward. Brenna just looked at him for a long moment, drinking in the sight of him and feeling the sureness of her decision welling up inside her.

When that sureness threatened to block the breath in her throat, she threw open the car door and began to run.

“Ryder, oh my darling, I’m sorry I took so long!” She hurled herself into his waiting arms and he locked them closed around her, swinging her effortlessly around in a circle before letting her find her feet.

“I knew you’d come back,” he growled gently, and then he was pinning her close for a slow, savoring kiss that branded and claimed and promised. Time hung suspended for the length of that kiss and Brenna gave herself up to it with willing surrender, for she knew she was staking her own feminine claim. This man was hers.

When he finally lifted his head reluctantly to smile searchingly down into her glowing face, Ryder seemed shaken by the wonder of what her kiss must have told him and by the evident love in her eyes. “Does this mean you’re not merely coming back because you’ve agreed to give our relationship a chance? Have you made your decision, Brenna? Will you be accepting my claim completely?”

She laughed up at him wickedly. “Ryder, you have a way of expressing yourself that badly needs refining for the modern age of equality. I’m here for the sloppy, sentimental reason that I love you. I know,” she went on hurriedly, stopping his mouth with her palm when he would have spoken, “you don’t think much of the word, but I find it perfect to describe my feelings for you. And someday I’m going to convince you that it’s the perfect way to describe your feelings for me,” she concluded tenderly.

He kissed the fingers that covered his lips and she lowered them, her cheeks warming at the expression on his face. “I never said I thought the word ‘love’ was sloppy and sentimental,” he whispered. “I said my readers would probably find it so. I avoided using it with you because I figured one had to trap a rational little professor with logic and appeals to her sense of integrity and honor. There’s no logic to love.”

“But there is honor and integrity,” she said.

“Yes.” He slid his hands into her hair, pulling free the combs that had anchored it back behind her ears. “Brenna, I love you. I knew I wanted you from the first. It didn’t take me long to realize the feeling went much deeper than that. I need you in a way I can’t fully explain. You’re like the other half of myself. I’m more than willing to label that feeling ‘love.’ ”

“So am I, Ryder. So am I.”

He drew her close to his chest, smoothing the length of her hair and sliding his hands up and down her back with a heavy urgency, as if he still couldn’t believe she had accepted him completely.

“We’re on the Nevada side of the lake, lady,” he murmured.

“So?” She smiled into his shirt, luxuriating in the wonder of being held by him.

“So we can get married this afternoon without any waiting.”

She lifted her head. “Is that what you want, Ryder?”

“It’s what I want. I have a very primitive need to tie you to me with all the bonds I can find.”

She shook her head, her amber eyes smiling at him. “What am I going to do with you? No sense of what a modern relationship entails at all!”

“Stop making fun of my Neanderthal approach and tell me you’ll marry me,” he ordered roughly, using his hand to pull her head back down onto his shoulder.