Page 11 of Out of Control

Liza was so furious that for a second she was almost blind with rage and distaste, which was why she did not hear or see the arrival of Keir Zachary at first. One minute she was staring in helpless fury at Bob Tanner's grinning, unshaven face, the next he was whirled away as Keir picked him up by his coat collar and the seat of his trousers and threw him out of the door.

Liza had pulled herself together enough by then to hear the crash as Bob Tanner hit the path. She didn't have time to see what he had done to himself, because Keir snarled after him, "And don't come back, or next time I'll break your neck!" before slamming the front door.

"You may have killed him!' Liza gasped.

'Good,' Keir said through his teeth, his face dark red. 'I hate scum of that sort. I kept quiet because I could see you didn't want him to know I was here, but when he started making a pass at you that was more than flesh and blood could stand ... the miserable little toad!'

Liza couldn't deny the aptness of the description, but she was still angry with Keir for interfering. 'Don't you realise what you've done?' she asked him fiercely, glaring. 'You've given him exactly what he came here to get a story! And much better than a couple of weak quotes! He's going to scurry to the nearest phone and tell the world that I've got a man staying with me down here!'

He stared at her, his brows together, and in the silence they both heard Bob Tanner pick himself up and hurry away. His running footsteps sounded very loud in the damp river mist shrouding the house.

'You can explain to your boyfriend . . .' Keir began and Liza looked at him scathingly, interrupting.

'That I didn't even know you, but you stayed the night?"

'That we crashed into each other and I couldn't get home!" he re-phrased drily.

'And that's what I tell Fleet Street? You think they'll believe that lame story?'

'The cars are outside for all the world to see!" He considered her with a cool smile. 'I think you're making a mountain out of a molehill.'

'That's what reporters always do!' she snapped.

He shrugged. 'I apologise if I've embarrassed you, but that guy was asking for a good punch on the nose. If I hadn't intervened he might have done more than tell you he fancied you. I got the impression he was leading up to a little demonstration!'

Liza shuddered. She had had the same impression and the thought of that odious little man touching her made her feel sick.

'Did I hear him mention the name Gifford?" Keir asked, staring hard at her. 'He didn't mean the merchant bank people, did he?'

Liza was too weary and distraught to think of an evasive reply. She just sighed and nodded.

'I'm going back to bed,' she said, turning towards the stairs, but Keir caught her arm and detained her.

'Is your boyfriend one of the Giffords? Are you engaged to him?'

Liza turned on him, heavy-eyed and fed up. 'Look, I've had enough questions from that reporter! I'm not answering any of yours, either. It's none of your business.'

'Are you in love with him?' he threw at her, as if he hadn't heard a word she had said.

Liza shook herself free and ran up the stairs, aware of him standing in the hall, watching her, but when she was safely out of reach she paused to look back at him, half apologetically.

'Thank you for coming to my rescue," she said with faint reluctance. 'I realise you meant well!"

'Thank you," he said with wry impatience. 'Next time I'll let the guy do what he likes with you, shall I?'

'Don't be angry,' Liza said, suddenly smiling down at him. 'I'm sorry, it's just that you don't understand—you don't realise what's going on!'

'So tell me, maybe I could help?' He put a foot on the bottom stair and Liza's body stiffened. 'Don't come up here!'

He leaned on the banister, his lean body relaxed and yet held in a controlled tension she could feel, as though he was willing himself to stay calm, but was coiled for action all the same.

'Are you afraid of me?' he enquired, the blue eyes holding hers, and she suddenly found it hard to breathe, although she couldn't think why she should be having trouble dragging air into her lungs, just because a total stranger looked at her.

'Afraid of you? Why should I be?' she retorted, wishing she didn't sound so husky.

'You tell me!'

'Do you think 1 should be?" Liza asked, wishing she knew what he was thinking. 'You know yourself better than I do—should I be afraid of you?"

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