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had known so short a time, and she wanted desperately to believe he might be falling in love with her. But she must control the situation until they both were sure. With Court Gannon, she must play it safe, very, very safe ...
    Summoning a smile, she faced him with an astonishing amount of composure, under the circumstances. "Goodnight, Court. I had a very"—she paused and the smile broadened—"informative evening. Shall I see you in the morning?"
    For a moment, the line of his mouth hardened, and she wondered if she was going to be allowed to escape after all. Then, he inclined his head almost formally.
    "I'll pick you up for breakfast."
    "Thank you. Now, as I'm here, anyway, I may as well take my brother's contract,"
    she continued with a determined lightness. It was difficult trying to dispel the physical tension he was purposely building between them, but Leya was not without a strong will of her own.
    "It's over there on the table." He watched her walk across the room and pick up the papers, a thoughtful look creasing her brow as she scanned them once more.
    "Oh, hell," Leya muttered in surrender. "Have you got a pen? I might as well sign these and put my brother out of his misery!"
    Wordlessly, he handed her the pen and watched intently as she nipped the pages over to the one requiring signatures. Without giving herself time to think, Leya slashed her name onto the page with a casual dash that, in a feminine way, was not unlike the equally bold scrawl on the opposite side of the paper. She glanced at the man's name once more as she tossed down the pen.
    "C. Tremayne," she repeated, straightening the document and folding it into thirds.
    "I warn you, Court Gannon," she said with half a smile, "if that man ruins my brother's future, I'll come after you with a skinning knife!"
    "You won't have far to look," he promised, a curious brightness in his eyes. "I intend to be somewhere in your vicinity!"
    "You're very certain of him?" she asked quietly, the wry humor fading from her voice as she met his gaze.

    "He'll deal honorably with your brother," Court stated grimly.
    "Do you know anything else about him? I mean, besides his business ability?" Leya asked curiously.
    "What do you want to know?" Court returned noncommittally.
    Leya tapped the folded contract against her palm and considered that, eyes twinkling. "Well, is he married?"
    "No. Would it matter?"
    "I guess not. Merely curious."
    "You know what curiosity did to the cat."
    "Are you implying I shouldn't probe too deeply into C. Tremayne's personal life?"
    Leya grinned impishly.
    "He's a man," Court tossed back with deceptive casualness, retrieving the pen.
    "Ah-ha! Meaning he's a womanizer?" Leya charged brightly, enjoying the new game, especially since Court seemed rather reluctant to play. "A heavy drinker? Lots of silly macho?"
    "You have got it in for the poor guy, haven't you?" Court grumbled, slanting her a disgusted look.
    She sighed regretfully. "I can see I'm not going to get a lot of juicy gossip out of you! Why do men always stick together?"
    "Because we have so few defenses against the female of the species. Don't worry, Leya. Tremayne will take care of Brandon Security Systems and teach your brother what he needs to know." There was a mild pause as if something had only recently occurred to Court. "You don't seem overly concerned about what Tremayne's failure to honor the spirit of the contract would do to your share of the inheritance."
    "I'm not," she said carelessly, truthfully. "I have no interest in Brandon Security. I don't even know why Dad left me a portion of the shares. He knew I had all I wanted in my bookshop."
    "Totally self-sufficient?" There was an amused mockery in the question.
    "Completely," she confirmed, lifting one brow in a faintly queuing glance. It was the truth. She had built the shop into a successful enterprise, and she had done it on her own.
    "Your father probably left you an interest in the firm so that you could act as a