“You like being in control.”
He wiped his hands on his jeans and said, “I don’t like surprises, that’s all.”
“Oh, really?” She began to smile wickedly. “Sometimes surprises can be nice.”
“Most of the time, surprises can be damned annoying.”
“Tsk tsk. What a boring attitude about life.”
“How I live my life is none of your business.”
“Want to know what I think?” she asked.
“Not really.”
“I think you could use a few surprises now and then, Cliff Forrester.”
With that, she came away from the car with a fluid motion and caught the front of Cliff’s shirt in her hand. Her grip tightened, and she tugged, pulling him close enough to kiss. Her face was almost level with his, and her laughing blue eyes teased him boldly. Suddenly Cliff could smell the sweet fragrance of her perfumed hair and feel the lithe strength of her legs against his.
She said, “How about one right now?”
She didn’t wait to be kissed, but lifted her mouth up to his and caught his lips swiftly. She tasted crisp and warm, and when she slanted her mouth across his, Cliff felt his senses quicken. His blood was suddenly tingling everywhere, a tide of heat beating hard in all his nerve endings. Liza’s tongue found his and played a mischievous game for a moment. Sensations Cliff had thought were long gone came bubbling up from a secret place deep inside, and surprised the hell out of him, all right. Standing there in a shaft of sunlight with the vibrant young body of Liza Baron pressed provocatively against him, Cliff felt his mind go blank. And his body come alive.
Then it was over. She loosened her grip on his shirt, leaned back and tilted her head to look him saucily in the eye. The lazy pleasure that shone in her gaze exactly matched the expression on the face of the little devil that swung from her earlobe.
“See?” she breathed. “A surprise can be very nice.”
Sometime in the past ten seconds, Cliff’s hands had found their way to her arms, and he held her very tightly. From between clenched teeth, he said, “You take a lot of chances, don’t you?”
“I like to feel good.”
“You like playing with fire, I think. I wonder if you’ve ever been burned?”
He couldn’t stop himself. Her cocky smile, the tease in her eyes, the supple contour of her body—yes, all those things combined to trigger an inexplicable anger in Cliff. He found himself gripping Liza hard, pulling her close and kissing her with every ounce of pent-up energy inside himself.
With a sigh, she gave herself to him, abruptly relaxing in his arms. One of her knees eased between his two, and her hands crept slowly around Cliff’s neck as the kiss deepened into a hot and savory contact.
But Cliff didn’t want her relaxed. He knew her game and intended to change the rules. Swiftly, he tightened his grip on Liza and forced her back against the car. She squirmed and choked on a protest. She clutched his shoulders for balance and then fought the kiss like a wildcat. Roughly, Cliff pushed her mouth open and ravaged her tongue with his own. He could feel her breast quiver against his chest, and her breath came in gasps.
Then he tasted blood.
At once, Cliff let her go. His stomach churned, and he found he was trembling as he stepped back.
Liza sat up on the car, hastily straightening her tiny dress where it had slipped low on one of her breasts. There was blood on her lip again, a bright droplet where he’d been kissing her a moment before.
“What was that for?” she asked shakily, lifting her hand to her lip and staring at the blood that came away on her fingertips.
“I don’t like being manipulated, Miss Baron.”
She looked up, blue eyes widening. “I wasn’t manipulating you. I just thought—”
“You couldn’t get under my skin verbally, so you tried the next best way to get a reaction out of me.” Cliff half turned away, angry with her and disgusted with himself. “That was a stupid trick,” he snapped. “It could have gotten you into a lot of trouble.”
“I don’t think so,” she said, studying him with an unnerving solemnity. “You’re not as tough as you pretend to be.”
He cursed under his breath—half at himself for reacting to her ploy. He was shaking inside.
“In fact,” Liza said quietly, watching as Cliff worked at pulling himself together, “I’m beginning to think we’re a little alike.”
He laughed shortly and shook his head. “There’s a fundamental difference between you and me, Miss Baron.”
“Which is?”
“You’re a born fighter. You like to get a rise out of people and make them angry. You feed on conflict. Hell, you’re at war with the whole world!”
“And you?”
Cliff turned away, suddenly wishing he was alone again. “Me,” he said, “I’ve given up.”
IF SHE’D HAD enough nerve, Liza would have asked him a dozen questions then. But the memory of his ferocious grip and a kiss that had been clearly born of anger, not attraction, along with the shuttered expression on Cliff Forrester’s taut face, told Liza she’d better keep her mouth shut. For once, she listened to the voice of common sense in her head.
He didn’t give her a chance to work up more courage, either. Curtly asking for her car keys, he got behind the wheel and tried the Thunderbird’s engine. It started, but the rattling sound that immediately rose from under the hood prompted him to shut off the ignition at once.
Still behind the wheel, he considered the problem for a long moment, during which he appeared to fight with his own feelings. “I’ll drive you into town,” he said eventually, looking as if he’d rather subject himself to the Spanish Inquisition than prolong his time with Liza. “You can hire a tow truck at the garage.”
Liza quailed at the thought of going into Tyler. Now that she was so close, she suddenly wanted to put a lot of distance between herself and her old hometown. Trying to conceal her anxiety, she said, “Can’t you fix my car?”
Forrester got out of the car. “From the sound of that engine, the damage is beyond my skills. You’ll need a real mechanic. I’ll go get the truck and take you to a garage.”
Liza noticed how tight his jaw was. But there were other signs that he wasn’t quite in control of himself. His hand might have shown a tremor when he closed the car door. And the set of his shoulders gave away something Liza couldn’t quite pinpoint.
The man was peculiar, all right. One kiss had clicked an emotional switch in him. One minute he’d let passion overwhelm him. Then he’d looked positively shaken by what had transpired. Now, the prospect of driving her to town seemed to fill him with loathing.
Insulted, Liza said, “Don’t do me any favors, Forrester. I’ll hitchhike to the nearest garage.”
“In that getup?” he said as the color began to return to his face. “The only drivers on the road this morning will be farmers, and none of them will risk picking up a hot number like you.”
“A hot number?” Liza repeated, amused. “Now, that’s a blast from the past. We’re called women today, Forrester.”
“The gossips around town would call you a hot number,” he retorted, turning to grab his fish and leave.
“I don’t know which is worse,”