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"Travis," she said again, but the word was barely a sigh.
"Yes, darlin'. I hear you. Tell me what you want, Princess. Just say it."
Alex's eyes flew open. That little self-satisfied smile was curling over his lips again. Her heart hardened. He knew exactly the effect he had on her and he was determined to make sure she knew it, too.
Her body went rigid.
"Get—up," she said.
She knew her voice was icy. He knew it, too. She could see it in the way that smile dropped from his mouth.
"Darlin', what's the matter?"
"Get-up!" she said, and batted her hands against his shoulders.
His eyes narrowed. Her heartbeat stuttered. She thought, once again, how little she knew about this man, how isolated this house was...
He became still. Then he smiled, a quick show of teeth, and rolled away.
"With pleasure, Ms. Thorpe. Far be it from me to keep a lady in bed when she doesn't want to be there."
If he'd wanted to embarrass her, addressing her so formally when she lay naked beside him, he'd succeeded. She wanted to cringe, grab for the sheet and cover herself from head to toe, but she'd sooner have walked through fire than give him that satisfaction. Instead, she swung her legs to the floor, rose to her feet and strolled across the room as if she walked around naked in front of strange men all the time. She picked up her robe from where it lay, shook it out, slipped it on and tied the sash.
Then she turned to Travis.
He was lying as she'd left him, completely naked. His hands were clasped under his head, his feet were crossed at the ankles. And, she was disconcerted to see, he was still partly aroused.
Cover yourself, she wanted to scream—but she was afraid her voice would tremble and give away the truth, that she knew how little it would take to arouse him fully, to make him want her. All she had to do was go to him, put her hand around him. Or her mouth. She hadn't done that, not ever, but suddenly she wanted-she wanted...
She turned away, made what she knew would be a useless search for her slippers, then swung toward him again.
"I'm sure you'd like to shower," she said.
He didn't answer.
"I think I mentioned it earlier, didn't I? That there's another bathroom just down the hall?"
He didn't speak. He just kept looking at her.
"You'll find soaps, toothbrushes, towels—everything you need, in the drawers under the sink.
"How very thoughtful of you, Ms. Thorpe."
There was a warning edge to his voice but she didn't care.
All that mattered was getting him out of here.
"But then, I'm sure all your gentlemen guests tell you
that."
His meaning was clear. She considered correcting him and decided it would serve no purpose except to feed his ego, but there was no way to stop the color from creeping up under her skin. She lifted her chin, just enough so he'd know she wasn't intimidated.
"I try to be accommodating, Mr. Baron, if that's what you mean."
He smiled lazily, sat up and rose to his feet. "Oh, yes, Ms. Thorpe," he said. His soft drawl, she noticed, was gone. "You surely do. And you're very good at it. At being—what did you call it? Accommodating."
She knew her color was intensifying, along with the desire to fly across the room, slap his face and tell him-tell him what? That she'd never done anything like this before? That she still didn't believe she'd done it? He'd never believe her.
"Mr. Baron." Alex took a deep breath and tucked her hands into the pockets of her robe. "Mr. Baron, it's been an—an enjoyable day...."
"But it's ended." His teeth flashed in a quick, mirthless grin. "Come on, Ms. Thorpe, don't be shy. Or is it that you're trying to act the part of the perfect hostess, and perfect hostesses never want to have to tell a guest, straight out, that the party's over?"
"Mr. Baron. Really, it's just—it's just..." Her eyes fixed on his. "Do you think you could put some clothes on, please?"
Travis looked down at himself, then at her. "My oh my," he said, eyebrows raised in a parody of amazement, the drawl creeping into his voice again. "However did that happen, I wonder? That I'd be standin' here in your bedroom, naked as a jaybird, while you stood over there all dressed up in a robe—a robe coverin' a body which, until a couple of minutes ago, was every bit as naked as mine?" His voice, and his eyes, turned hard. "Or am I supposed to forget little details like that, Ms. Thorpe?"
"You're making this unnecessarily difficult," Alex said calmly, even though her heart was thumping again.
His eyes narrowed. He looked at her for what seemed an eternity and then he gave a sharp laugh, reached for his jeans and pulled them on.
"You're right," he said. He sat down on the edge of the bed and tugged on his boots. "And why in hell should it be?"
