They talked about wine, electronics, jewelry making, and business, everything, in short, except the state of their strange relationship. It was a very pleasant day, one of those days when Court felt “safe” to Leya.
They took the organized tour offered by one of the larger establishments, exploring the huge cellars and delighting in the tangy scent of fermenting wine. Once, as the main party of tourists passed momentarily out of sight behind a huge redwood vat, Court reached out and dragged Leya close for a quick, hard kiss that took her breath away for an instant.
“Couldn’t resist,” he explained matter-of-factly when she blinked her surprise.
But later that night after an evening spent dining and dancing at an elegant restaurant secluded in the vineyards, Leya felt compelled to take Court’s hand as he was about to leave her with grave politeness on her doorstep.
“Wait,” she said impulsively. “There’s something I want to show you.”
He arched an eyebrow in inquiry, but said nothing as he followed her into the house. Without a word, she led him firmly toward the stairs and knew by the sudden tightening of his hand what he was thinking.
“No,” she said, slanting a mischievous smile up at his suddenly urgent eyes. “We’re making a right at the top of the stairs, not a left.”
Left was the direction of her bedroom. She felt the humor in him as she determinedly guided him right and threw open a door at the end of the hall.
He shot her a quick look and then whistled soundlessly as he walked past her into the functionally designed interior.
“Quite a setup.” He nodded approvingly as he scanned the workbench.
Leya relaxed slightly at his obvious appreciation of her jewelry workshop. She watched in anticipation as Court bent over the assortment of fine tools and delicate apparatus. Little glass boxes filled with thin wire, earring clips, and other odds and ends lined one end of the table. A collection of polished rocks was housed near it. Sheets of hammered metal were stacked nearby.
He smiled at her across the short distance separating them. “I can see you getting lost in here for hours at a time.” He picked up one of the small tools lying on the end of the counter.
“It’s a hobby,” she said offhandedly, not wanting to fully admit just how much she was enjoying his interest.
“Why did you show me your secret hideout tonight?” he murmured deeply, setting down the tiny tool and walking slowly forward to stand in front of her.
“I don’t know,” she whispered honestly. “Perhaps because it was such a lovely day…”
“And perhaps because you instinctively wanted to show me how much we really do have in common?” he mused, cupping her face gently between his hands.
“I…I’m not sure why I did it. It was an impulse,” she shrugged.
“Do you realize why today felt so good?”
“Why?”
“Because it felt like Oregon again,” he told her softly.
Leya hesitated, knowing he was right.
“And I’m going to do my damnedest to create a lot more days just like this one,” Court swore, bending to kiss her in a sweet, drugging way that made her want to bury herself in his arms.
But he didn’t give her the chance. His leavetaking was warm, filled with sensual tension, but very restrained.
Exactly like the leavetaking of the next several nights, Leya thought in wry amusement as the week progressed. Court had established a truce, she had allowed him to do so, and he intended to maintain it.
The planning for the new branch of Brandon Books went beautifully during those days, with everything seeming to fall satisfyingly into place. And the nights were filled with a fairy-tale prince who was all grace and charm and restrained desire.
Leya knew she was being wooed, and she also knew Court was intending for the romance to have a thoroughly definite goal. But he carefully said nothing about that goal. It was only when she slipped dreamily into bed at night, and glanced at her nightstand to see if the green box was still there, that Leya allowed herself to remember the ending Court wanted.
It was over a dinner of curried lamb and green salad, which Leya had fixed on Sunday night, that Court made his announcement.
“I’m going to have to go back to the Valley tomorrow for a few days to wind up matters on a project I was finishing before I moved here,” he said calmly.
“San Jose? Silicon Valley?”
“Right. I should be back in time for that party your brother is giving Friday night. You’ll be there?”
“I hadn’t heard about it,” Leya shrugged, accustomed to her brother’s offhand invitations. He would probably have called her the day of the party to invite her.
‘But you’ll be going?” Court persisted, helping himself to more chutney.
“Probably. Why?”
“Because I’ll know where to come looking for you when I get back into town, won’t I?” He grinned. “I’d pick you up but I don’t know what time I’ll be back so I’ll volunteer to drive you home, instead. That’s always the more interesting part of the evening, anyway!”
Leya bared her teeth good-naturedly at him from across the table and he laughed.
There was no denying that the dreamlike quality of the days and evenings faded considerably when Court left town. Leya found herself eagerly awaiting the phone calls that came regularly after dinner.
“Are you sure you’re not calling just to check up on my whereabouts?” she accused cheerfully on Tuesday night.
“Am I displaying a lack of subtlety again?” he sighed.
“A bit, but that’s all right. Your phone calls are much better than television.”
“Thanks!”
He told her how his work was going, asked about hers, and somehow it was nearly an hour before he hung up.
The green box was waiting in its usual place on the nightstand when Leya went to bed that night. She lay very still in the darkness for a long time, staring at it and remembering the warmth in Court’s voice on the telephone.
She crawled back out of bed and reached for the extension phone. Deliberately, she dialed Cynthia’s number.
“Cynthia, I have a personal question to ask you,” Leya began carefully.
“At this hour of the night?”
“Does it hurt very much to have your ears pierced?”
There was a moment of dead silence on the other end of the line. “Are you serious?” Cynthia finally demanded, sounding as if she were smothering a laugh.
“Very.”
“Going to do it?” Cynthia prodded.
“I…I think so.”
“Tomorrow?”
“If I put it off any longer, I may never bring myself to do it!” Leya confessed.
“Okay, boss, tomorrow it is. There’s a department store across from the store that does it free if you buy the earrings from them. I’ll go with you and hold your hand.”
“I’ve…I’ve already got the earrings,” Leya said slowly, having regrets already. The commitment she was contemplating seemed very final. But something told her Court was strong enough to handle it. She smiled to herself at the thought. She trusted him to know what he wanted, and he had told her he wanted her.
“Well, you can buy some more cheap ones from them, or I will, so we can get them to do the ear-piercing free,” Cynthia said cheerfully.
“Thanks, Cynthia, for volunteering to go with me, I mean. But you haven’t answered my question. Is it going to hurt?”
“Bring a bottle of wine down to the shop with you, Leya,” Cynthia advised and hung up the phone.
The next day turned out to be one of those inexplicable workdays that is an absolute rush from the opening hour in the morning until closing. Leya and Cynthia, who came in at noon as scheduled, were swamped.
It wasn’t until Cynthia finally was able to turn the “closed” sign over in the window that Leya was able to talk to her about the earrings. Wordlessly, she handed the paper bag containing the unopened bottle of wine to her assi
stant.
“Do you mind telling me,” Cynthia asked, taking the wine from Leya’s grasp and carrying it to the back of the shop where she dug out two paper cups, “what brought on this momentous decision? I thought you had a thing about the ridiculousness of piercing one’s ears!”
“Cynthia, I think I’ve gone crazy. This will probably be like getting a tattoo. I’ll wake up in the morning and regret it!”
“No, you won’t,” Cynthia assured her, laughing as she opened the wine and poured it into the paper cups. “You’re going to love being able to wear delicate little earrings. And it will be much more comfortable. No clips to pinch your ears. With your love of jewelry, I’m surprised you haven’t done it sooner! Here, take a nice, big swallow.”
Leya took the offered cup and did as she was bid. “Are we going to down the whole bottle before we troop over to the jewelry counter at the department store?” she asked interestedly, her eyes lighting with humor.
“Nope. Some for now, some for after. That’s the way I did it. Let’s see these earrings you’ve got that have made you take this big step.”
Leya silently drew forth the green velvet box and handed it to her friend.
“Ah!” Cynthia breathed a moment later. “I understand. They’re beautiful, Leya. A gift form Court?”
“Yes.” Leya bit her lip and took another sip of wine.
“He knew what he was doing. They match your eyes perfectly.”
Leya peered over to look at the emeralds. “Do you really think so?” She found it oddly touching that Court had thought of her eyes when he’d made the purchase.
“Definitely. It can’t be a coincidence. These stones were very carefully picked out,” Cynthia declared with assurance, handing back the earrings. She searched Leya’s face. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
“Like I said, I think I’ve gone a little crazy.”
“Same thing. Have another glass of wine and we’ll get the bloody deed done!”
“Cynthia!”
Eleven
Friday morning, Keith remembered to invite Leya to his party.
“Can you come?” he demanded cheerfully of his sister. “Court will be there if he gets back into town on time.”
“Is that supposed to be a lure?” she joked.
“Naturally. I figure you two will probably be panting to see each other after his absence, but I’m hoping you’ll both come to the party.”
“You don’t think we’re a little too old for your crowd?” Leya asked mockingly.
“Not since I moved into the staid business establishment. I figure the pair of you will fit in nicely.”
“Poor little brother. Miss your disco floors?”
“Not since I discovered women go for that aura of power we businessmen have!”
Leya hung up the phone with a rude crash, her fingers going absently to her earlobes as they frequently did now.
There was no point in worrying about it at this juncture, she told herself later that evening as she dressed for Keith’s party. The decision had been made; the deed done. It remained only to try and carry off the official signing of the peace treaty with a certain amount of style and panache. And if Court Tremayne had an ounce of common sense, she added grimly, he wouldn’t tease her about it. She wouldn’t be responsible for her actions if he dared to mock her!
She chose the emerald-green dress deliberately, liking the way it went with the earrings that blazed like small green stars in her ears. Cynthia had been right about one thing: Leya did like the more delicate nature of pierced earrings. It opened up all sorts of new design possibilities, she decided, glancing in the mirror yet again. She still couldn’t get used to the sight of them, though, or what this particular pair of earrings represented.
She told herself at first that the last-minute decision to wear her hair down was a whim and then admitted the truth. The long, dark tresses cascading past her ears and over her shoulders provided a shield for the emerald earrings. With a small forward motion of her head, they could be hidden entirely, at least until another small motion, such as turning her head, caused the hair to fall back.
On the drive across town to her brother’s apartment, it occurred to her that there was no absolute guarantee Court would be able to get back in time for the party, although he’d seemed convinced he would. It would serve her right, she told herself as her humour surfaced, if she’d gone to all this trouble and then had no grand scene to play!
That thought and the excitement radiating through her veins put a glow in the silver-green eyes that could only be compared to the tiny emeralds in her ears as she knocked on the door of her brother’s elegant townhouse apartment.
“The lady in green!” Keith grinned, opening the door an instant later and shepherding her inside. “You look quite ravishing tonight, sister dear. Can I guess why you’re imitating an emerald?”
“A little too much green?” Leya groaned, glancing down the length of her long skirt.
“Not at all!” he assured her, following her into the living room, where a number of other people had already gathered. “The effect is terrific. Court will go crazy. What can I get you to drink? The usual?”
“That will be fine.” She glanced around the room at the well-dressed, cheerful crowd. “You know, Keith, a year ago I wouldn’t have been able to imagine you giving a party like this,” she added in an admiring whisper.
“Upward mobility,” he explained succinctly, splashing liquor over ice with casual flair. “You have to act like a success even if you haven’t quite reached that point yet.”
“You’re really getting into this executive lifestyle, aren’t you?” she teased, watching with wry interest as a lovely blonde detached herself from a group of people and made her way toward the bar. “Your date for the evening?” Leya added in a low tone.
“Haven’t got one yet,” Keith told her easily, sipping his whiskey. “But I suppose Janice here might do.”
“I’ll leave you to impress her with your aura of power.” Tossing a smile at the advancing Janice, Leya made her way into the fringes of the crowd, searching out the people she knew and wondering how many here tonight had witnessed the dramatic exit she had made from her last party.
She was seized with a haste that would normally have surprised her. But tonight, as the nervous anticipation of Court’s arrival began to mount, Leya hardly noticed the eager interest of several males in the crowd. She responded to it because the excitement in her needed some outlet and each new man on the scene was another object to absorb the energy that pulsed through her, lighting her eyes and curving her lips in a lazy, challenging invitation. More than once, she felt a stray hand unobtrusively come into contact with the sable hair as it swirled almost to her waist.
“Keith mentioned a sister,” murmured a newcomer as Leya was handed a second drink by willing hands. “He forgot to mention the color of her eyes.”
“An important omission?” she asked lightly, lifting dark lashes to give him the full benefit of the near-platinum green. The stranger was very good-looking, she decided clinically, and he had somehow managed to cut out the rest of her eager entourage. She glanced absently around and wondered how he’d done it. Somehow, she was isolated in a corner of the room, hemmed in by a potted plant on one side and the stranger on the other.
“Very important,” the man assured her, dark eyes narrowing sardonically. “I have a weakness for green-eyed women, you see.”
“Your weakness doesn’t appear to have brought you to ruin,” Leya grinned recklessly, tilting her head to study the waving black hair and handsomely cut features. Deliberately, she allowed her gaze to travel politely over the expensive, buttery-soft suede sport jacket and black shirt worn with a rakish air.
“Most of the time I’m able to control it before too much damage is done,” he agreed, holding up his left hand to demonstrate a ringless finger. Then he glanced at her own bare left hand. “Apparently, you’ve managed to steer clear of the trap, too?”
br /> “So far,” she agreed, eyes laughing up at him. Where was Court? Perhaps he wouldn’t make it tonight, after all. On the other hand, how was she going to behave when he did get here? The tension had strung her nerves to a fine pitch. The earrings tingled in her lobes.
“Something tells me you and I have a lot in common.”
“But your eyes aren’t green,” she protested.
“Are you going to hold that against me?” he complained softly, bending his head down in an attentive fashion and bracing one hand against the wall behind her. He smiled. “I promise you I have other attributes.”
“Have you?” she inquired dryly, arching one brow. “Let me guess. Do you play tennis?”
“Excellently,” he chuckled, dark eyes warming.
“Golf?”
“Near-par game every time!”
“Jog?”
“Every morning.”
“And where’s your favorite vacation spot?” she asked curiously, letting him mistake the teasing questions for genuine interest.
“Any place I can ski in the winter and sail in the summer. Do I pass?”
“I’m afraid you just flunked,” she told him sadly. “I don’t do any of those things.” She looked up at him with laughing mournfulness.
“You prefer indoor sports?” His smile broadened seductively. “I have a talent for those, too.”
“You’re very accommodating.”
“I do my best.”
Leya parted her lips to make a flippant response and was suddenly aware of a change in the atmosphere of the room. The gathering excitement in her blossomed into full bloom, and she felt as if she were walking a glass-edged tightrope. Court was here. She knew it with every instinct in her body.
Affecting a casualness she was far from feeling, she allowed her gaze to sweep the large crowd until she focused on the door. Court stood there, talking to her brother. The tortoiseshell hair had been lightly ruffled by a chill evening breeze, and he was wearing the conservative gray suit he must have worn to his business meetings during the day. The coat had been discarded, probably left in the car, but the classic white shirt was still neatly buttoned and the dark tie in place.