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Authors: Janet Dailey

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BOOK: Low Country Liar
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"I've had time to think about our conversation—or should I call it confrontation—the other night." There was a decidedly caressing tone to his low voice. His thumb slid beneath the cuff of her sleeve to the inside of her wrist, rubbing her pulse point with disturbing results.

"What about it?" Lisa had to swallow the breathless catch in her voice.

"I've decided that it's mutually defeating to declare war on each other."

The lazy softening of his hard mouth into a smile was a bit too potent in its charm for Lisa to handle. She looked beyond him to the dark mound of a cannon, a relic of the Civil War permanently mounted in the garden. Its barrel pointed across the bay waters to the distant fortress of Fort Sumter.

"What are you suggesting?" There, Lisa sighed inwardly. She sounded much more in control of herself when she issued that question.

"That we effect a compromise."

"What kind?" The smoke blue lenses of her glasses shaded the green of her eyes, but they didn't lessen the sharpness of the look she darted at Slade.

"The kind that lets us join forces."

"Impossible!"
 

"Why is it impossible?" Slade argued smoothly. "Why should we keep fighting one another? We'd both end up losing."

He still believed she was intervening because she wanted Mitzi's money. That was what he wanted, and he obviously believed it was the only thing she was interested in. Lisa hesitated. Perhaps this was another way of gaining the proof against him that she needed.

Slade noticed her hesitation and pressed his advantage. "It makes sense, doesn't it?"

"Perhaps," Lisa conceded, at least temporarily until she could think his suggestion through. She moved her wrist slightly against his hold. "Please, I'd like to walk." What she really needed was to get some distance between them so she could think clearly.

Obligingly Slade released her wrist and fell in step beside her when she pushed away from the tree trunk. But she didn't obtain the complete separation she desired. Vaguely possessive, his hand rested on the lower curve of her spine. The smooth material made his touch seem all the more sensuous against her skin.

She was much too aware of the man at her side, aware of him as a man. She had to remind herself of the character of the man beneath the tall, muscular physique. If she had needed any confirmation, she had received it a moment ago when he had suggested they work together to obtain Mitzi's money. She almost had to agree to go along with hint so she could prove to Mitzi what Slade Blackwell really was.

Her attention shifted to the body of water glistening ahead of her in the twilight. The White Point Garden was located virtually on the tip of the peninsula of Old Charleston. Lisa's steps faltered, slowing almost to a stop as she stared at the water.

The surface was smooth and reflecting, giving no indication of the current flowing underneath. It reminded her of Slade. She had no idea what was going on inside his mind.

"The Ashley River," Slade quietly identified the body of water. "This is where the Ashley and the Cooper rivers flow together to form the Atlantic Ocean," he explained, voicing the whimsical tongue-in-cheek claim of the Charlestonians.

"I'm not interested in a geography lesson," Lisa returned impatiently, She turned to face him, tipping her head back slightly to see his features. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"How do I know I can trust you?" he countered.

"That's not an answer."

"The answer is we would have to trust each other."

"Honor among thieves and all 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 you
that 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 than others she had known because it was so subtle. He didn't use an ounce of flattery, yet he made Lisa feel so good inside. It made him dangerous, but at the moment she was in the mood to flirt with danger.

It was crazy the way her mind was capable of dividing itself. One part of it was thinking about him, analyzing the things about him that set him apart from ordinary men. Another part was registering every word he said so she could make the appropriate responses when they were required.

The third part of her mind was noting other things about him. She liked the low pitch of his voice, smooth and rich like velvet. And she liked the way the corners of his mouth deepened when he thought something was amusing but didn't openly smile.

He said something dryly funny and Lisa laughed. "I was beginning to think you'd drifted away somewhere. You should laugh like that more often." A slow smile spread across his mouth, making an impact on her pulse.
 

"And you should smile like that more often," she returned, aware of the husky tremor in her voice, but not caring.

"We're beginning to sound like a mutual admiration society," Slade pointed out dryly, amused and mocking.

"Mitzi would be astounded," Lisa declared laughingly.

"I doubt it. Knowing Mitzi and her penchant for happy endings, she would find a romantically logical reason." Instantly something flashed across his face—a look of irritation or impatience, but Lisa couldn't be sure which. "Mildred mentioned that you'd barely returned to the house when I arrived. You were out sight-seeing with your friends?"
The subject was deftly changed.

Lisa wondered why. Surely Slade didn't think she was becoming romantically attracted to him. Well, wasn't she, a small voice jeered. Wasn't she just a little bit curious what it would be like if he made love to her? She was afraid any answer she gave would be self-incriminating and she tried to ignore the questions.

"I was out with Peg and Susan for part of the day," she lied. "I browsed through the shops in the morning and the three of us went sightseeing in the afternoon."

"Where did you go?"

She hesitated for only a fraction of a second before she remembered a brochure she had seen. "Brookgreen Gardens. The statuary there is breathtaking. Unfortunately we got caught in the rush-hour traffic on the way back—that's why I was so late."

"There are some very fine American sculptors represented there," Slade agreed. "Which was your favorite?"

Was he testing her? Lisa wondered, then decided not. "They were all so beautiful it's impossible to pick one," she hedged.

"True. Brookgreen Gardens is very impressive, especially with its avenue of live oaks."

"Yes, isn't it?" Lisa smiled.

"Shall we go?" Slade asked unexpectedly. "I believe the restaurant is closing."

"What?" Lisa glanced around, surprised to see only two other tables occupied in the dining room. "Yes, of course."

As she reached for her handbag, Slade moved to the back of her chair. "It was a delicious meal. Thank you," she offered, rising as he held the chair out.

"My pleasure." But there was something distant in his reply.

The car was parked nearly a block away. Slade insisted that Lisa wait outside the restaurant for him to bring it around. As his long, smooth strides carried him away, she shivered slightly, feeling she had been abandoned to the cool of the evening.

Flames from the torches mounted on the building front flickered over the brick walls and the boarded, arched windows. Lisa shifted nearer to their light just as the sleek Lincoln drove up to the curb in front of the restaurant.

There was no indication of the chilling aloofness she thought she had detected in Slade moments earlier. She decided it must have been her imagination that made her think he had suddenly withdrawn. There was nothing cool about his attitude as he helped her into the passenger seat. In fact, his smile was quite disarming when he turned to her after sliding behind the wheel.

"Would you like to go directly back to Mitzi's or do you want to take a driving tour of Old Charleston by night?"
Slade asked.

It was late and she would have to be up early to get to the office. The wisest choice would be to go directly to Mitzi's, but she heard her voice opting for the second choice.

"The driving tour."

She was crazy, she thought, settling back in her seat and smiling at herself. She disliked Slade yet she was dangerously attracted to him. She should feel wary instead of so contented.

"Why the smile?" He slowed the car as it turned a corner on to a rough, cobblestoned street.

"It must be the afterglow of good wine," Lisa sighed, confused by the change without really caring.

"I noticed it mellowed your temper."

"Yours, too," she countered, and glanced out the window.

The street they were on ran along the waterfront. On the opposite side of the docks were brightly painted old houses abutting each other. "How odd! Look." She pointed them out to Slade. "Each one is painted a different color."

He sent her a curious look. "That's Rainbow Row. I thought you'd been touring Charleston these past few days. How did you miss Rainbow Row?"

"Oh—"
Lisa breathed in nervously, running the tip of her tongue over her lips "—I haven't toured Old Charleston yet. Mostly we've been taking other tours, like out to Fort Sumter and driving to the military academy,"

BOOK: Low Country Liar
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