Whirlwind. Nancy Martin
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guess he changed his mind. I have been known to have that effect on people, you know. Have you got a match?”
Seething, Cliff said, “I’m not sharing this place with you, Miss Baron.”
“Heavens, Forrester, my great-grandfather used to hold hunting parties up here and invite a hundred guests. It’s a big lodge.” She blinked prettily, then gave him a taunting smile. “I’m sure we’ll manage to stay out of each other’s beds if we try, don’t you?”
“Dammit, you can’t barge in here like this!”
“I already have,” she replied, cool and amused as she flipped a cigarette out of the pack and expertly waved it between two fingers. “Are you scared of me, Forrester?”
There were limits to human suffering, Cliff thought savagely. Without warning, he snatched the cigarette from Liza’s grasp and managed to grab the pack out of her other hand before she could react.
“Hey!” she cried, affronted.
“I may be forced to tolerate you,” he snapped, “but I won’t have you stinking up the place with cigarette smoke!” He squashed the pack in one hand and threw the crumpled remains on the counter between them.
Liza glared at him as she stood squarely in the middle of the lodge kitchen, still wearing his sweater over that ridiculously short skirt. Her high-heeled shoes were gone, however, and in their place was a pair of brand-new sneakers. She looked young and fit and breathtakingly lovely.
And very angry, too. Her eyes were throwing blue sparks as she glared at Cliff.
“I don’t take orders from anyone,” she said. “I’ll smoke if I want to smoke.”
“It’s a stupid habit. You probably do it only because you think it makes you look sophisticated.”
“That’s not it at all. I—”
“You’re a silly, shallow, spoiled girl, Miss Baron, and you’re probably used to inflicting yourself on people all the time. Well, I won’t put up with it. If you want to smoke, go back to Chicago.”
Her expression turned shrewd. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want to get rid of me.”
“Damn right!”
“Well, you can’t chase me out of here that easily, Forrester. You want me to give up smoking? Fine, I will. But I’m not leaving Timberlake, so forget it!”
Cliff couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “A couple of hours ago you said you were passing through, and now suddenly you’re the prodigal daughter! Why in heaven’s name have you taken it into your head to barge in here—”
“I need a place to crash for a while,” she cut in. “To revitalize my creativity. To open my consciousness to new experiences. To—”
“Oh, for crying out loud!”
“I’m not here because of you, Forrester, so stop thinking I’m hot for your body or something, because I’m not—even if you’re hot for mine!”
“I am not hot for your body!”
“I’ve seen how you look at me, Forrester.”
“Miss Baron—”
“My name is Liza.”
“I know your damned name! My God, you’re the most exasperating woman—”
“Oh, cool down,” she said with am impish laugh, folding her arms over her chest and clearly enjoying his pique. “I think you could use some exasperation. You’ve gotten too comfortable up here all by yourself.” She tossed her head pertly. “I’ve heard about you, Forrester.”
He quelled the urge to strangle her and ground out, “Exactly what have you heard?”
“You have quite a reputation around town. You’re a hermit or a lone wolf—one or the other. Some people even think you’re dangerous.”
A few things began to clear up in Cliff’s mind. “That’s why you’ve come dancing in here this way, isn’t it?”
“Huh?”
“You get your kicks out of dangerous men.”
“Where I get my kicks is none of your business,” she replied, standing straight again and repacking the items in her plastic bag. “I’m curious about you, that’s all. You’re a mystery man, Forrester, and I just love a mystery.”
“I’ll tell you all my secrets,” Cliff said at once, “if you’ll pack up and leave in the next ten minutes.”
She laughed and gathered up her bag. “I’m here to stay, Forrester—at least until I feel like leaving. Which bedroom is mine?”
Cliff felt perilously close to boiling over and found himself clenching his fists. “Damn you—”
“I’ll take the little pink room at the back of the second floor, okay? You haven’t set up housekeeping in that one, I’ll bet. Pink isn’t your color. I’ll use the bathroom near the back stairs, okay? It’s working?”
“If you don’t take showers by the hour.”
She grinned. “Don’t get your hopes up. Were you planning to watch me through the peephole while I’m in the shower?”
“What peephole?”
“The one my cousin drilled so he could watch me in the bathroom. He was very immature, but I didn’t mind. I kind of liked the idea, you know?”
She was outrageous. At least, she tried to be outrageous. Cliff doubted such a peephole had ever existed. He knew exactly what she was doing. Liza Baron liked to make up lies just to watch people’s reactions.
“Oh, one more thing,” she said, turning on the bottom stair. “Will you check with Carl about my car? Tell him I’d like to have it fixed by tomorrow morning, okay? And maybe you’d get some of my stuff out of the trunk? It’s all the junk from my office. Thanks.”
She trotted up the stairs then, humming a cheery tune and laughing aloud when she reached the second floor.
Cliff balled up his fists and struggled with the urge to shout after her. He wasn’t going to play the butler to her lady of the manor!
“Get your own junk,” he muttered, and went out the back door of the lodge to the terrace.
He plunged into the woods, growling to himself. To have his privacy plundered this way was unacceptable. Enraging, even! Who did she think she was? And what was her plan, for God’s sake? The tigress came barging in and started ordering him around like he was her hired hand!
“What does she think she’s going to do?”
A girl like Liza got her kicks out of disrupting people, making them miserable. It was her entertainment, a sport.
“Damn her!”
Suddenly Cliff stopped short under the oaks, struck by a thought. For the first time in recent memory, he was fuming over the actions of another person.
It was weird.
Of course, he’d been alone for years. He’d wanted it that way. Staying out of the mainstream had been a distinct choice for him—a way of avoiding the kind of emotional turmoil he hated. Life at Timberlake had been peaceful, and he’d needed peace. The silence of the forest and the tranquil lake had worked together to mend his spirit. He hadn’t needed other people. He’d avoided them for lots of reasons.
Now that bewitching Baron girl came bursting into the lodge as if she owned the place! It was a cataclysmic event, Cliff realized. She was the first to break in on his private world. The only person who’d dared.
Grimly, he set off into the forest again. “I can’t live under the same roof with her. It’s impossible.”
She