feel sorry for me?" he mocked lightly.
"Stop twisting my words!"
"You don't feel sorry for me, do you?" he retorted complacently.
"Of course I don't! How could any woman feel sorry for such a pompous, egotistical male!"
"Who just beat you hands down at everything that counts," he concluded helpfully.
"How," she demanded with regal grace, "could I possibly love a man who gloated so in his little victories?"
"You can love him because he's proved himself as strong as you are, because you need him as much as he needs you, and because you don't have to feel sorry for him. I shall ask a great deal of you in the future, Kelly Winfield, but not one fraction more than I'm willing to give in return. And that equality in the giving and receiving is what makes everything different for us."
"What makes you the authority?" she muttered, feeling the pull of the metal and silk words on her senses and not understanding how to fight it.
He smiled ruefully. "I haven't existed in a vacuum for the past thirty-five years, I've learned a few lessons along the way too."
"Lessons from people like Amanda Bailey?"
"It takes all kinds of teachers," he retorted philosophically.
"Did she fascinate you at first too? When did the boredom set in, Locke? After you'd slept with her or when she refused to sleep with you? Did you try your comprehensive siege tactics against her? Did they fail?"
He stopped her tirade with a hard, punishing kiss that sapped her breath. Nor did he lift his head until she'd tacitly abandoned the field.
"Forget Amanda. Forget everyone else. We're going to be married, Kelly. You and I are the only ones who count now. I love you and I've made you mine. Whether you like it or not, you're committed to me and I think you know it, deep down inside. Stop fighting, Kelly. The war is over."
Over! she thought near-hysterically, staring up at him as if he were some pagan male from another planet who had come to carry her off. Their war wasn't over. It had only begun! Didn't he realize that?
Did he expect her to have become blind and stupid in defeat? Did he really believe she was going to fall for his lies of love? She would make him admit the real reason he wanted to marry her if it was the last thing she accomplished on earth!
Men didn't fall in love with her, they used her strength and then wondered why she lost interest in them. Locke Channing might be cleverer than the others, but she would unmask him all the same.
"I can see you're not very gracious in defeat," he chuckled, leaning over to drop a kiss on her forehead. "But I'm not prepared to continue this conversation on an empty stomach. Back to the showers, my love, and then downstairs to the steaks!"
"Steaks," she muttered, appalled. "How can you think of food at a time like this?"
He swung his legs to the floor, rising tall and uncompromisingly male beside the bed. Hands on hips, he grinned devilishly down at her.
"A time like this is when I think about food the most! A little personality quirk for you to store in that able memory of yours, honey. Sex makes me hungry. Some men need a cigarette afterward; I need food!"
"That doesn't strike you as a little unromantic?" she quipped, sliding off the opposite edge of the bed and reaching quickly for the chocolate towel.
"Shame on you! Aren't you going to find it terribly romantic to cook your first meal for me?"
He was already at the bedroom door and through it, blue jeans in one hand, when the chocolate towel hurtled after him. The tightly wadded material harmlessly struck the spot where he would have been if Kelly had been a fraction faster. The accuracy didn't surprise her. She took the fencing-induced eye-hand coordination for granted. What bothered her was that he had been too fast for her.
CHAPTER SIX
In the end Locke had broiled the steaks, a vigilant eye on the expensive meat while he cheerfully gave orders concerning the salad and wine. He hadn't seemed to notice the silent, unenthusiastic manner in which
"Stop twisting my words!"
"You don't feel sorry for me, do you?" he retorted complacently.
"Of course I don't! How could any woman feel sorry for such a pompous, egotistical male!"
"Who just beat you hands down at everything that counts," he concluded helpfully.
"How," she demanded with regal grace, "could I possibly love a man who gloated so in his little victories?"
"You can love him because he's proved himself as strong as you are, because you need him as much as he needs you, and because you don't have to feel sorry for him. I shall ask a great deal of you in the future, Kelly Winfield, but not one fraction more than I'm willing to give in return. And that equality in the giving and receiving is what makes everything different for us."
"What makes you the authority?" she muttered, feeling the pull of the metal and silk words on her senses and not understanding how to fight it.
He smiled ruefully. "I haven't existed in a vacuum for the past thirty-five years, I've learned a few lessons along the way too."
"Lessons from people like Amanda Bailey?"
"It takes all kinds of teachers," he retorted philosophically.
"Did she fascinate you at first too? When did the boredom set in, Locke? After you'd slept with her or when she refused to sleep with you? Did you try your comprehensive siege tactics against her? Did they fail?"
He stopped her tirade with a hard, punishing kiss that sapped her breath. Nor did he lift his head until she'd tacitly abandoned the field.
"Forget Amanda. Forget everyone else. We're going to be married, Kelly. You and I are the only ones who count now. I love you and I've made you mine. Whether you like it or not, you're committed to me and I think you know it, deep down inside. Stop fighting, Kelly. The war is over."
Over! she thought near-hysterically, staring up at him as if he were some pagan male from another planet who had come to carry her off. Their war wasn't over. It had only begun! Didn't he realize that?
Did he expect her to have become blind and stupid in defeat? Did he really believe she was going to fall for his lies of love? She would make him admit the real reason he wanted to marry her if it was the last thing she accomplished on earth!
Men didn't fall in love with her, they used her strength and then wondered why she lost interest in them. Locke Channing might be cleverer than the others, but she would unmask him all the same.
"I can see you're not very gracious in defeat," he chuckled, leaning over to drop a kiss on her forehead. "But I'm not prepared to continue this conversation on an empty stomach. Back to the showers, my love, and then downstairs to the steaks!"
"Steaks," she muttered, appalled. "How can you think of food at a time like this?"
He swung his legs to the floor, rising tall and uncompromisingly male beside the bed. Hands on hips, he grinned devilishly down at her.
"A time like this is when I think about food the most! A little personality quirk for you to store in that able memory of yours, honey. Sex makes me hungry. Some men need a cigarette afterward; I need food!"
"That doesn't strike you as a little unromantic?" she quipped, sliding off the opposite edge of the bed and reaching quickly for the chocolate towel.
"Shame on you! Aren't you going to find it terribly romantic to cook your first meal for me?"
He was already at the bedroom door and through it, blue jeans in one hand, when the chocolate towel hurtled after him. The tightly wadded material harmlessly struck the spot where he would have been if Kelly had been a fraction faster. The accuracy didn't surprise her. She took the fencing-induced eye-hand coordination for granted. What bothered her was that he had been too fast for her.
CHAPTER SIX
In the end Locke had broiled the steaks, a vigilant eye on the expensive meat while he cheerfully gave orders concerning the salad and wine. He hadn't seemed to notice the silent, unenthusiastic manner in which
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