that?" Lisa taunted sarcastically. "You don't know the meaning of the word honor."
"Do you?"
"I am not Mitzi's attorney bound by law to protect her interests," she reminded him.
"No, you're Mitzi's niece. Shall we begin comparing the blackness of the pot and the kettle?" Slade challenged dryly.
Her lips tightened grimly as she looked away. "You can't honestly expect me to forget your crude behavior the other night. No," she shook her head in agitation, "it would never work."
"You were the one who started the hostilities, Lisa."
"Because I slapped your face?"
"Didn't your mother ever teach youthat you could win more friends with flattery? Or wasn't I supposed to catch the veiled insults you threw at me all that evening?
"That was not an excuse for you to manhandle me," she snapped.
He was calmly and deliberately baiting her and, fool that she was, she was rising to snap at it. She breathed in deeply. She would not let him make her lose her temper.
"No, it wasn't an excuse, but—" Slade paused for effect "—it was only a kiss."
"Is that what you call it?" The retort was out before she could stop it.
"Issued in a moment of anger, I'll admit," he answered, revealing only amusement at her gibe.
"To put it mildly," Lisa snapped.
"You provoked that anger, to put it mildly," Slade mocked her.
"If that's the way you feel, why this sudden change?"
"With each of us tearing at Mitzi trying to convince her the other is no good, no matter which way it goes, we're going to end up putting doubt in her mind about each of us," he reasoned.
"And a third party could end up with all the money." Lisa followed the thought to its logical conclusion.
"Unless we come to an agreement," he added. "Very well, tell me more about this agreement you want me to make," she breathed in decision.
"We'll discuss it after dinner." Slade smiled, the pressure increasing on the back of her waist as he turned toward the car. "I booked a table for seven-thirty. We're late, but I'm sure they'll hold our reservations for us. In the meantime, let's call a truce."
"A truce?" Lisa laughed in disbelief. "Are you serious?"
"Naturally I'm serious," he said, guiding her past a tall magnolia. "You need time to get used to the idea of trusting me."
"I doubt if I ever will," Lisa said, and meant it.
"You've made progress," he commented.
"Why?"
"Because you said 'doubt,' before you simply made it a flat statement that you never would." A glitter of arrogant complacency was in his look.
"A technicality," she dismissed the argument.
"Remember?" A dark brow arched in wry amusement. "My profession deals in technicalities."
"I'm afraid you're indulging in a bit of wishful thinking," Lisa denied a bit more sharply than she had intended.
Slade glanced at her as he reached to open the passenger door of the car. He didn't say anything, just let a faint smile touch the edge of his mouth.
Chapter Six
CONTENTED, LISA DECIDED—that was the only word to describe the way she felt. The restaurant was sumptuously elegant yet relaxing at the same time, two qualities that did not necessarily go hand in hand.
The food had been excellent and her head was a bit fuzzy from the wine, but it was a pleasurable kind of fuzziness. She took another sip of the dry white wine in the stemmed glass. Soft music played in the background, gently romantic, setting the mood.
The table was small, intimately so with Slade sitting directly across from her. Lisa studied him openly, the intensity of her green gaze masked by the tinted lenses of her glasses. His roguishly thick mane of hair had a raven sheen to it, his eyes like black diamonds glittered with an inner fire.
His tanned features could have been chiseled in stone, yet they were so very male and so very compelling. Slade was wrong; no stone could ever possess the vitality that Slade had.
That vitality and charm had been working its magic on Lisa all evening. Slade's particular brand of charm was more potent
"Do you?"
"I am not Mitzi's attorney bound by law to protect her interests," she reminded him.
"No, you're Mitzi's niece. Shall we begin comparing the blackness of the pot and the kettle?" Slade challenged dryly.
Her lips tightened grimly as she looked away. "You can't honestly expect me to forget your crude behavior the other night. No," she shook her head in agitation, "it would never work."
"You were the one who started the hostilities, Lisa."
"Because I slapped your face?"
"Didn't your mother ever teach youthat you could win more friends with flattery? Or wasn't I supposed to catch the veiled insults you threw at me all that evening?
"That was not an excuse for you to manhandle me," she snapped.
He was calmly and deliberately baiting her and, fool that she was, she was rising to snap at it. She breathed in deeply. She would not let him make her lose her temper.
"No, it wasn't an excuse, but—" Slade paused for effect "—it was only a kiss."
"Is that what you call it?" The retort was out before she could stop it.
"Issued in a moment of anger, I'll admit," he answered, revealing only amusement at her gibe.
"To put it mildly," Lisa snapped.
"You provoked that anger, to put it mildly," Slade mocked her.
"If that's the way you feel, why this sudden change?"
"With each of us tearing at Mitzi trying to convince her the other is no good, no matter which way it goes, we're going to end up putting doubt in her mind about each of us," he reasoned.
"And a third party could end up with all the money." Lisa followed the thought to its logical conclusion.
"Unless we come to an agreement," he added. "Very well, tell me more about this agreement you want me to make," she breathed in decision.
"We'll discuss it after dinner." Slade smiled, the pressure increasing on the back of her waist as he turned toward the car. "I booked a table for seven-thirty. We're late, but I'm sure they'll hold our reservations for us. In the meantime, let's call a truce."
"A truce?" Lisa laughed in disbelief. "Are you serious?"
"Naturally I'm serious," he said, guiding her past a tall magnolia. "You need time to get used to the idea of trusting me."
"I doubt if I ever will," Lisa said, and meant it.
"You've made progress," he commented.
"Why?"
"Because you said 'doubt,' before you simply made it a flat statement that you never would." A glitter of arrogant complacency was in his look.
"A technicality," she dismissed the argument.
"Remember?" A dark brow arched in wry amusement. "My profession deals in technicalities."
"I'm afraid you're indulging in a bit of wishful thinking," Lisa denied a bit more sharply than she had intended.
Slade glanced at her as he reached to open the passenger door of the car. He didn't say anything, just let a faint smile touch the edge of his mouth.
Chapter Six
CONTENTED, LISA DECIDED—that was the only word to describe the way she felt. The restaurant was sumptuously elegant yet relaxing at the same time, two qualities that did not necessarily go hand in hand.
The food had been excellent and her head was a bit fuzzy from the wine, but it was a pleasurable kind of fuzziness. She took another sip of the dry white wine in the stemmed glass. Soft music played in the background, gently romantic, setting the mood.
The table was small, intimately so with Slade sitting directly across from her. Lisa studied him openly, the intensity of her green gaze masked by the tinted lenses of her glasses. His roguishly thick mane of hair had a raven sheen to it, his eyes like black diamonds glittered with an inner fire.
His tanned features could have been chiseled in stone, yet they were so very male and so very compelling. Slade was wrong; no stone could ever possess the vitality that Slade had.
That vitality and charm had been working its magic on Lisa all evening. Slade's particular brand of charm was more potent
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