face buried in the material of his shirt as she waited with agonized suspense for the results of her reckless play. Nothing should have been more guaranteed to stop his seduction routine than the knowledge that she would be expecting marriage! Dara was certain of her weapon. The only thing she wasn't certain of was whether or not she had really wanted to use it. Another night with Yale Ransom was a temptation beyond any she had ever experienced.
"I'm amazed you think so highly of my sense of honor," he observed coolly, dropping a feather-light kiss on her temple.
Dara gave a small start of surprise. "There's no doubt in my mind that you're a man who likes to stay on even terms with the world," she gritted. "You seem to have a pay-as-you-go philosophy about life. You proved that this morning!"
"When I told you you could have my account?" He groaned and then kissed her throat just below her ear. "You may be right."
"And you're not a fool..." she went on carefully, wishing her body didn't react so strongly to a man she had known such a short time.
"That's a more debatable point."
"Not foolish enough to commit yourself to marriage with a woman you've only known a little over twenty-four hours!" she declared, bitter triumph lacing her words.
"I'll admit the price you're setting on yourself tonight is a bit steep," he hedged, his mouth traveling down to the curve of her shoulder.
"And I'm going to stick to it. I won't sell myself as cheaply as you seem to think I did last night!" she cried wretchedly.
"If that's the way you want it," he said slowly, and she thought she felt him tense. He was going to leave. She knew it. Knew it and wanted insanely to call back her words.
But it was too late. She had made her decision and she would force herself to abide by it. There was the future to think about tonight, not just a few tempting hours of ecstasy with a man who considered love a business transaction!
"As long as we understand each other," he whispered thickly, "we might as well get on with the transaction."
He moved, sweeping her into his arms with a smooth power that took away her breath.
"Yale! What are you doing?" she gasped as he started down the short hall to her bedroom. "Put me down!"
"Why? You set the terms. Don't tell me you're going to try to back out of them now."
"That's right!" she rasped furiously. "I set the terms. And I'm going to make you stick to them! I swear it!'
"Okay," he said simply, using a large foot to open the door to her darkened bedroom.
"What do you mean, 'okay'?" she yelped, the combination of passion and anger heating her veins until she felt liquid fire running through her body.
"I accept the terms," he explained evenly, dropping her lightly onto the old-fashioned country-patterned quilt that covered the four-poster bed.
She stared up at him, trying to make out his expression in the dimly lit room. She was curled in a shaft of fight which fell onto the bed from the hall and she felt extraordinarily vulnerable. Everything was going wrong. She had been so sure her demand would send him fleeing into the night!
"You can't be serious!" she tried, her eyes fastened on him in utter fascination. "Do you know what you're saying?"
Even though he stood in the shadows, Dara couldn't miss the flash of gold in his slow, sardonic grin. "Don't worry about me," he advised, stripping off his shirt and letting it fall, unheeded, to the carpet. "You should be asking yourself that question. Between last night and tonight you're going to find yourself with both me and my account to handle. And we're both going to take a lot of time and attention."
Dara scrambled to her knees on the bed, not knowing whether to lash out at him or open her arms to receive him. Was he mad? She wasn't the sort of woman who drove men to rash extremes! She hadn't even been able to seduce her ex-husband away from thoughts of his former fiancée!
Dara put out a hand in uncertain appeal as Yale began efficient work on his belt
"I'm amazed you think so highly of my sense of honor," he observed coolly, dropping a feather-light kiss on her temple.
Dara gave a small start of surprise. "There's no doubt in my mind that you're a man who likes to stay on even terms with the world," she gritted. "You seem to have a pay-as-you-go philosophy about life. You proved that this morning!"
"When I told you you could have my account?" He groaned and then kissed her throat just below her ear. "You may be right."
"And you're not a fool..." she went on carefully, wishing her body didn't react so strongly to a man she had known such a short time.
"That's a more debatable point."
"Not foolish enough to commit yourself to marriage with a woman you've only known a little over twenty-four hours!" she declared, bitter triumph lacing her words.
"I'll admit the price you're setting on yourself tonight is a bit steep," he hedged, his mouth traveling down to the curve of her shoulder.
"And I'm going to stick to it. I won't sell myself as cheaply as you seem to think I did last night!" she cried wretchedly.
"If that's the way you want it," he said slowly, and she thought she felt him tense. He was going to leave. She knew it. Knew it and wanted insanely to call back her words.
But it was too late. She had made her decision and she would force herself to abide by it. There was the future to think about tonight, not just a few tempting hours of ecstasy with a man who considered love a business transaction!
"As long as we understand each other," he whispered thickly, "we might as well get on with the transaction."
He moved, sweeping her into his arms with a smooth power that took away her breath.
"Yale! What are you doing?" she gasped as he started down the short hall to her bedroom. "Put me down!"
"Why? You set the terms. Don't tell me you're going to try to back out of them now."
"That's right!" she rasped furiously. "I set the terms. And I'm going to make you stick to them! I swear it!'
"Okay," he said simply, using a large foot to open the door to her darkened bedroom.
"What do you mean, 'okay'?" she yelped, the combination of passion and anger heating her veins until she felt liquid fire running through her body.
"I accept the terms," he explained evenly, dropping her lightly onto the old-fashioned country-patterned quilt that covered the four-poster bed.
She stared up at him, trying to make out his expression in the dimly lit room. She was curled in a shaft of fight which fell onto the bed from the hall and she felt extraordinarily vulnerable. Everything was going wrong. She had been so sure her demand would send him fleeing into the night!
"You can't be serious!" she tried, her eyes fastened on him in utter fascination. "Do you know what you're saying?"
Even though he stood in the shadows, Dara couldn't miss the flash of gold in his slow, sardonic grin. "Don't worry about me," he advised, stripping off his shirt and letting it fall, unheeded, to the carpet. "You should be asking yourself that question. Between last night and tonight you're going to find yourself with both me and my account to handle. And we're both going to take a lot of time and attention."
Dara scrambled to her knees on the bed, not knowing whether to lash out at him or open her arms to receive him. Was he mad? She wasn't the sort of woman who drove men to rash extremes! She hadn't even been able to seduce her ex-husband away from thoughts of his former fiancée!
Dara put out a hand in uncertain appeal as Yale began efficient work on his belt
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