"Run along, Gruff," Blanche instructed. "Tisha has come to stay with us."

As though he understood every word, the goat cast one brief glance in Tisha's direction before wandering off.

"That is your gardener?" Tisha queried, widening her eyes as she gave her aunt a look that plainly doubted her sanity.

"I don't have much of a yard," shrugged Blanche, an unmistakable twinkle in her eyes, "but I needed something to keep the weeds down, so I acquired Gruff. He thinks he's a watchdog as well."

"He did a very excellent job of convincing me that he was." Tisha stared after the goat, now contentedly munching some gra.s.s near the fence. "What did you call him? Gruff? It's a very good name for him."

"Billy was a bit too trite," Blanche smiled. "I remembered a fairy tale I heard as a child and named him Billy Goat Gruff. He makes a very useful pet. He's quite affectionate at times."

There was a doubting look in the glance Tisha cast at Blanche. "I hope his affection will stretch to include me."

"He's only gruff with strangers, if you'll pardon the pun," her aunt a.s.sured her. "Once he gets to know you, you'll be able to come and go as you please. The very fact that he's ignoring you now indicates that he has accepted you. Sometimes he simply hangs around when I have visitors, peering into the windows and lurking around corners. He rather unnerves them."

"He does fit the image of a pet to an eccentric artist, doesn't he?" Tisha teased.

"Do you think so?" Blanche asked in an amused voice. "Probably he does. Well, shall we get your car unloaded and your things moved into the house. I've rearranged my studio so you can have part of it to work in."

"You didn't need to do that," Tisha protested.

"I have plenty of room for myself," her aunt insisted as she picked up a pair of suitcases. "How did Richard take your leaving?"

"He wasn't happy about it, but he seemed reconciled that it was the best solution." A wistful expression tugged downward the corners of Tisha's mouth. "The house will probably seem very empty and lonely to him now."

"Don't go feeling sorry for him. You would be leaving home sooner or later and he knows it. It's just as well that he becomes used to it now. Besides, living alone isn't so bad. I ought to know."

"I'm not considering moving back," Tisha declared. "It would only be a matter of days before Dad and I would be fighting over something. I just hope I won't be in your way too much."

"You won't. If I thought you might, I would never have invited you." Blanche smiled rea.s.suringly as she opened the door of her house for Tisha to enter. "How was the drive here?"

Tisha's nose wrinkled in disgruntled remembrance. "Don't ask!"

"What happened?" Blanche laughed. "Did you take a wrong turn and get lost on the mountain roads?"

"I almost wish I had. A car sideswiped me at that intersection at the bottom of the hill. The stupid man was speeding around the curve on my side of the road. He narrowly missed hitting me head-on. I was lucky to get away with a little dent on the front b.u.mper."

"You weren't hurt, were you?" watching anxiously as Tisha shook her head that she hadn't. "That's a relief," Blanche sighed. "You haven't had a very good beginning on your first day here."

"In every sunny day a little rain must fall," Tisha quipped, determined not to think about her run in with Roarke Madison, but she couldn't shake that niggling feeling that she had come out second best in their exchange.

"I thought you might like the south bedroom. There's a great view from the window of the valley and our mountain."

It was the middle of the afternoon before Tisha was completely unpacked and had arranged her things in at least temporary order. She walked into the living-room and sank wearily into the smooth amber-covered cushions of the sofa. At almost the same instant her aunt appeared in the doorway of the kitchen carrying a tray of drinks and biscuits.

"All done?" she inquired. "I was just coming in to suggest you take a break. How does iced tea and peanut b.u.t.ter cookies sound?"

"Heavenly!" Tisha replied, reaching for the frosted gla.s.s on the tray. "Everything has been put somewhere, although I'm sure I'll change things around later."

"Moving is always so hectic," Blanche agreed as the front doorbell rang.

Tisha sipped at her drink as her aunt went to the door. The cool liquid was deliciously refreshing as it slipped down her throat. She rubbed the back of her neck, stretching her shoulders to ease the ache of her muscles from all the bending, stooping and lifting. The murmur of voices at the door registered only vaguely until she heard Blanche say in a cheery voice, "Come on in. I want you to meet my niece."

Then Tisha turned, curious to meet the visitor. The smile of greeting froze in her face as she stared at the man walking beside her aunt. His expression was coolly composed, while she felt as if the sofa had just been pulled from beneath her.

"You!" she gasped with disbelieving anger.

"Have you two met each other?" Blanche stared from one to the other in confused surprise.

A smile ticked the corners of Roarke Madison's mouth. "You might say we ran into each other before."

"You ran into me," Tisha corrected quickly.

"So I did," he agreed, then turned to Blanche to explain, "I was the one who put the dent in her b.u.mper."

"It was sheer luck that he didn't kill me," Tisha retorted, sending him a malevolent glance.

"I see," her aunt murmured, but her lips were compressed as though she were attempting to conceal a smile. "In the circ.u.mstances, I don't know that introductions are in order."

"I'd already guessed that she was your niece," Roarke stated complacently, "and I found out on my own that she's a provocative redhead."

"My hair is auburn, for your information," Tisha jeered. "And I found out that you're not only a reckless driver, but an arrogantly conceited one, too!"

"Yes," he smiled, not the least bit upset by her sarcasm. "I believe you told me that earlier."

"Roarke is also my neighbour," Blanche inserted, her eyes twinkling at Tisha, carrying a message that she didn't understand at first. "Remember? I said I wanted to introduce you to him."

With sickening swiftness, Tisha remembered. He was the man her aunt had laughingly suggested she have an affair with. Vivid colour flowed into her cheeks and she was temporarily bereft of any reply. Worse, she felt his gaze studying her face with amused speculation.

"While I was in town, I arranged for you to have your car taken in tomorrow for the necessary repairs," Roarke informed her, moving leisurely to take a chair opposite Tisha.

"Then you can cancel it," she answered coldly. "I told you I would make my own arrangements."

"Don't be silly, Tisha," Blanche intervened. "It's terribly difficult to get a responsible person to work on your car. If Roarke has managed to get you an appointment, you would be wise to keep it."

Tisha shot a fiery glance at the man, expecting to hear his hearty endors.e.m.e.nt of her aunt's words, but he remained silent. How much easier it would have been to let her temper fly if he had attempted to persuade her to agree.

"I seem to have no choice," she grumbled ungraciously.

To her surprise, he didn't seize on her submission with typical male superiority. Instead he gave her the name and the address of the repair shop with the air of a man who had carried out his responsibilities and had no more interest in the matter. Pursuing the subject would only make her look as if she was attempting some petty vengeance.

"If you're going into town tomorrow, I think I will too," Blanche declared, setting her gla.s.s on a coaster. "It's been weeks since I've had a thermal bath and ma.s.sage. I'd better call now to make an appointment. What about you, Tish? The spas here are quite good and the thermal baths are extraordinarily stimulating. Shall I make an appointment for you?"

Her head moved in polite refusal. "Another time."

"While I'm on the phone, why don't you get Roarke a gla.s.s of iced tea?" her aunt suggested, moving lithely towards the studio and the telephone.

Tisha was quite willing to escape the glittering brightness of his brown eyes and the masculine presence that permeated the room with nearly physical reality. But the sound of unhurried footsteps behind her indicated her lack of success. She felt rather than saw him pause in the doorway, his lanky build filling the frame. The kitchen was totally foreign to her. She had opened three cupboard doors without finding the one that contained the gla.s.ses.

"I'll get it," Roarke spoke from behind her, walking immediately to the correct cupboard.

"You know your way around very well, don't you?" Tisha jeered, watching as he unhesitatingly removed the pitcher of tea from the refrigerator and the ice cubes from the receptacle in the freezer.

His gaze slid over her, mocking yet seeming to physically touch her. "Fairly well."

"Do you come here often?" She deliberately put as much icy contempt in her voice as she could.

"What do you really want to know? Whether your aunt and I are or have been lovers?" His candour caught her by surprise. The thought had not consciously crossed her mind. "Blanche is an attractive and warm woman."

"She's at least ten years older than you!" The olive green colour of her eyes deepened as horrified outrage widened their gaze.

"Considering the type of man you believe me to be, that shouldn't surprise you."

"It doesn't surprise me. It disgusts me!" Tisha retorted sharply.

"Blanche tells me you've had a very strict upbringing. I imagine your outlook is very puritan on the male-female relationship." The blond head was tilted in a patronizing gesture towards her rigid stance.

"She had no right to be talking about me to you!" The amused way he was looking at her made Tisha feel like an inexperienced teenager. "I'm not exactly ignorant when it comes to s.e.x and s.e.xual relationships."

"You have first-hand knowledge on the subject, do you?" One side of his mouth lifted in a doubting smile.

"That is strictly my business! Unlike a man, a woman doesn't go around bragging about her experiences with the opposite s.e.x!" hiding from the cutting truth of his doubt with a burst of bravado.

There was a satanic gleam in his eyes as he made an insolent and leisurely inspection of her lithe form, pausing for an insulting moment on the quick rise and fall of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s beneath her white blouse now deprived of the protection of her jacket, before his gaze continued over her waist, the gentle swell of her hips and down her long slender legs.

"That's strange," he murmured, his eyes returning with a knowing glitter to the heightened colour of her face. "You don't have the look of a woman who's known a man. Maybe I'll have to rea.s.sess my opinion of you."

"Don't bother!" Tisha ground out harshly.

"It's no bother. I've always liked challenges." His tongue was very definitely in cheek as he met her murderous glance.

"Have you?" she asked sweetly. "How's this for a challenge? I despise you!"

"That'll do for a start." Roarke smiled, flashing a set of white teeth that contrasted sharply with the teak tan of his face. "It might have been more interesting if you'd hated me, though."

"I hate you, too!" Tisha declared, infuriated by the elephant toughness that warded off her poison darts. "And you can save your interest for someone who appreciates it, like Blanche."

"Blanche and I are friends. Nothing more," he shrugged complacently.

"Really?" Tisha murmured sarcastically. "That isn't the impression you gave me a moment ago."

"I told you what you wanted to hear."

He was looking at her in a way that made her blood pressure rise. She deliberately ignored the ring of truth in his voice, too filled with a frustrated anger at the way he had purposely tricked her.

"I see," drawing the words through tightly clenched teeth. "And it's through your friendship-" she paused, so her sneering emphasis on the last word could sink in, "that you've acquired such an intimate knowledge of her house."

"The truth is much more plausible than that." He was actually grinning at her now. "I designed it."

Tisha felt as though she had just been impaled on a shaft of cold steel. "What do you mean?"

"I'm an architect. I not only drew up the blueprint, but I also supervised its construction."

"I didn't know," she faltered.

"You didn't ask. You a.s.sumed." A brown eyebrow lifted mockingly. "I think you preferred to believe the worst possible reason for my knowledge of the house. It was more in keeping with your opinion of me."

"You only wanted to make a fool of me," Tisha accused, her anger surging to the foreground again.

"There's an over-used cliche that fits the situation. In your case, though, it's particularly apt. You're very beautiful when you're angry." He straightened negligently away from the support of the counter. "I guess I couldn't resist striking the match that would set you on fire."

Blanche appeared in the kitchen doorway before the seething Tisha could think of a suitably cutting retort. "What are you two talking about? Her gaze shifted from the indifferent satisfaction on Roarke Madison's face to Tisha's smouldering rage. "Is it a private war, or can anyone take part?"

"We were just discussing all the broken hearts Miss Caldwell had left behind," Roarke answered.

His calm statement drew a puzzled frown. There had been absolutely no discussion regarding the romantic aspects of her life. "I left no broken hearts," she found herself saying, confused that he should even infer such a thing.

"I doubt that Kevin was overjoyed at your leaving," Blanche reminded her.

"How did you manage to get rid of your fiance?" Roarke inquired. The taunting glint in his dark eyes laughed at her astounded look as he let her know how thoroughly her aunt had discussed her niece with him.

"I simply explained that I wasn't the marrying kind and if I was, I wouldn't choose him," Tisha answered bluntly. The truth was that she had been very apologetic when she had seen Kevin last. In spite of the callous declarations she had made to her father, she had tried to be as gently firm with Kevin as she could.

"Not very tactful, but I imagine he got the point," Blanche laughed easily.

"So you have decided that marriage isn't for you." Roarke ignored her reference to Kevin to pursue the first statement.

"I imagine that's about the only view you and I have in common," she murmured with arch sweetness. "Or am I wrong in presuming that you're a confirmed bachelor?"

"Oh, I'm a bachelor," he a.s.sured her with laughter lurking in his voice. "I can't exactly admit to being a confirmed one, though."

"This looks as if it's going to be an interesting conversation." Blanche's eyes twinkled brightly as she looked from one to the other. "Let's go back into the living-room where I can relax and enjoy the fireworks."

Tisha spun angrily on her heel to stalk out of the kitchen, but her destination was her own bedroom. She wanted no more conversation with the arrogantly c.o.c.ky Roarke Madison. But she hadn't counted on his long, easy strides overtaking her before she reached the kitchen door, nor the hand that positively claimed her arm. Her skin tingled beneath his touch, sending liquid tongues of fire racing through her blood. She marked it off to the antagonism he aroused in her.

His low, silky voice murmured a message for her ears alone. "Are you retreating before the battle has begun?"

Scorn was in the look Tisha gave him as she shook off his hand and marched into the living room. So he thought she was giving up without a fight, did he?

There was a look of false apology on her face when she turned it back to his carved features. "It was foolish of me to refer to you as a confirmed bachelor. There's no such thing."

"How did you come to that conclusion?" An indulgent light flashed into his eyes as he settled in the same chair as before.

"Well, no man is immune to the power of a woman if she chooses to wield it," Tisha declared with an expressive movement of her shoulders. "The Bible is full of such stories-Samson and Delilah, David and Bathsheba, Esther and King Ahasuerus. A woman always brings a man to his knees." A smug smile pulled at the corners of her mouth as she stared into the brown eyes that held such mockery of her words in their depths. "Don't you agree, Mr. Madison?"

There was a slight narrowing of his gaze as he refused to be trapped into any admission. "Please go on. Your viewpoint is very enlightening."

"Surely what I'm saying is obvious. When a man proposes, he's the one who gets down on his knees, not the other way around." Her voice was the complacent purr of a cat toying with a mouse. Tisha noticed the surrept.i.tious glance Blanche gave Roarke before she hid her smile behind the iced tea gla.s.s.