Bargain With The Devil Part 2

"Hunter, please..."

"Stop fighting me, Stacy," he advised softly. "You've made your deal, so quit trying to modify it. Show me that you're willing to go through with it. I want to see a bit of the new Manning family loy-alty, which is going to replace the- old Rylan loyalty. Kiss me, Stacy. Who knows? Perhaps after you get used to it, you'll find being my wife isn't so bad. h.e.l.l, you might even learn to like it!" With that, Hunter took her lips again, his hands still holding her in place for his kiss.

There was nothing gentle or inviting about the caress, but this time, partly because of his words and partly because of his threaten-ingly painful grasp on her hair, Stacy chose to endure it rather than continue struggling. It was better not to further antagonize him at this point, she consoled herself as she felt her lips forced apart and the soft warmth of her mouth opened for his possession. Later....

"I would not have suspected a Rylan of having any softness in her," Hunter grated hoa.r.s.ely, withdrawing slightly from the captured province of her mouth. Stacy opened her eyes to find the cold gray fog of his gaze reflecting a new and perhaps more dangerous ele-ment. A very male hunger stirred there, and she was horrified to discover something very female in her was both repelled and at-tracted by that look.

"What's the matter, Stacy Rylan? Are you finally lost for words? Are you reaching the conclusion that you may-have undertaken more than you could handle when you set out to protect the other members of the family?"

"Hunter, I " Stacy couldn't finish the sentence. Wordlessly she stared up at him. She must not let him have full control of the situa-tion, she realized dimly. She must maintain her dignity, at least!

With a strange little twist of his lips, a twist that meant victory, Stacy was certain, Hunter released his grip on'her hair, his hands circling her wrists and lifting her arms to go around his neck.

"My little Rylan wife," he murmured, stroking the length of her slender back with a motion that pressed her tightly against him. "I'm going to make a Manning out of you," he vowed. "With every fiber of your being, you will behave first as a Manning. When there are any choices to be made, you will make them with the good of the Manning family in mind. And above all you will be loyal to your Manning husband." The dark head nodded in satisfaction. "Paul Rylan will know he has lost you to me, and he will understand that there is at long last a penalty to be paid for what he did fourteen years ago!"

With a coolly possessive air that defied her to protest, Hunter let his hands settle at Stacy's small waist and then slide upward until they came to rest just under the weight of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She sucked in her breath, not daring to move and refusing to give him the satisfac-tion of closing her eyes against the goading expression in his face.

"Kiss me, Stacy," he invited deliberately. "And find out what it's going to be like being a Manning woman. My woman."

For an instant longer Stacy hesitated, knowing that in the end there wasn't going to be any choice but fighting the knowledge re-gardless. Better to give him his kiss rather than have him force it from her, she told herself bleakly, finally standing on tiptoe to brush his hard mouth with her own soft one. As she did so, she felt his hands just under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s shift to cup the gently rounded globes completely. The probing, circling motion of his thumbs on the tips sent shock waves through her. The thin material of her flowered shirt and the lacy bra she wore offered little protection.

At once she sought to back away, but his fingers splayed tightly against her rib cage and held her still.

"No," he told her, resuming control of the kiss she had started, "you're committed now. There's no turning back." This time his mouth lazed over hers as if testing the waters before diving into the depths, and under the compulsion of his will, his hands, and his searching mouth, Stacy stood quiescently and wondered at the turn of fate. Sensing the fight had gone out of her for the present, Hunter at last lifted his head once more and watched her with a shuttered look.

"I think," he stated finally^ "it's time we told your brother of our sudden, irresistible attraction, don't you?"

"If that's what you want," Stacy heard herself say evenly, won-dering what would happen when he eventually realized that the re-venge he sought was going to be vastly less painful for her father now that Eric and Leana were no longer the instruments of that re-venge. Would she be able to keep him from discovering how drasti-cally she had muted his actions? Stacy asked herself. Would Hunter question the stoic, perhaps total lack of concern with which Paul Rylan was sure to greet the news of his daughter's wedding? Or would he simply a.s.sume her father was hiding his feelings, confident in the knowledge that his reasoning was correct and that Paul would be infuriated by the announcement? Since until tonight Hunter hadn't even been aware of her existence, there was no way he could know that Paul Rylan had given up on his stubborn, willful, inde-pendent daughter long ago: that both father and mother had focused the majority of their affection and approval on the son who was to inherit the family business the son who had made the proper social marriage and who had striven hard to be worthy of his parents' re-spect. Stacy was certain that Leana had become the close, confiding daughter Miriam Rylan wanted. The daughter who excelled at all the social niceties and who made such an attractive member of the fam-ily. If Hunter ever realized how little real revenge he was exact-ing...! Stacy shivered.

"Yes," Hunter said, half to himself. "It's what I want. Come along, Stacy Rylan, and let's announce the news of our unexpected engagement!" He flung an arm that felt far too possessive around her shoulders, striding toward the noise and laughter and lights of the party. Stacy had no option but to allow herself to be dragged along, wishing with all her heart that she wasn't going to be obliged to face the elegant crowd dressed as she was, but knowing there was no point in asking Hunter to spare her. She could tell by the fierce de-termination that radiated from him that he had set himself on this new path and was going to follow it to the end. Her wishes would matter little to him, if at all.

And it was every bit as bad as she had feared. It seemed that every eye in the room turned in astonishment at the sight of the tall dark man sweeping into their midst with the ragtag urchin clamped to his side. Stacy had all she could do to keep from breaking away and fleeing into the night, a.s.suming she coukl have escaped the iron grip that had shifted from her shoulders to her waist. Without paus-ing, Hunter swept the crowd, spotted Eric at the far end of the room, where he stood talking to a group of business a.s.sociates, and paced purposefully in that direction. The smiling, drinking crowd seemed to part before the pair, and Stacy refused to allow her growing dis-comfort to show. Few of these people knew her and were probably awfully curious about all this.

"There you are, Eric," Hunter called out when he and Stacy were still several feet away. There was a ringing exuberance to his voice, which attracted the full attention of Eric's entire group. "Been look-ing for you. Why didn't you tell me Stacy was your sister? I fotmd her scurrying about on the back patio awhile ago and couldn't be-lieve my eyes!"

Stacy managed a faint, apologetic smile for her sophisticated, good-looking brother as his Rylan blue eyes focused in astonishment on his sister.

"Stacy! I didn't know you were coming to the party tonight," Eric said with a curious smile as he took in her disheveled appear-ance. "Why didn't you say something earlier when you were helping Leana with the flowers?"

"I, uh, didn't intend to come, Eric," Stacy began uncertainly, aware of Hunter's growing impatience to make his big announce-ment. "I left some of my tools behind and came back for them awhile ago "

"When I found her skulking around the back entrance," Hunter chimed in, taking over the explanation effortlessly. "Imagine my surprise when I found out the woman I've asked to marry me was related to you! I'd been a.s.suming the coincidence of last names was just that; a coincidence." Hunter cast a deceptively fond glance down at Stacy, who firmly ignored it. She might have to play out this little scene, but she didn't intend to completely submerge her pride in the process! Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a surprised-looking Leana making her way through the crowd.

"I'm afraid I'm about two steps behind you," Eric exclaimed oheerfully, shaking his sandy-brown-haired head. "Care to backtrack and explain?" The question was directed at Hunter, but the suddenly searching blue gaze was on Stacy. "What's this about marriage?"

"Stacy's going to marry me," Hunter said with cool relish. "I fi-nally got a yes out of her out there on the patio tonight. It's taken some doing, I can a.s.sure you!"

"I can imagine," Eric said quietly before turning to his circle of friends and politely excusing himself. "Come over here and tell me all about it. I must say, I'm a bit surprised. I had no idea you and Stacy even knew each other. Oh, hi, honey," Eric interrupted himself to greet his wife as she glided gracefully up to his side, her gaze on Hunter. "You'll never guess what's happened. Stacy's finally going to get married!"

Leana blinked, masking her astonishment almost at once, but Stacy sensed dismay. The poor girl really had already been weaving a few daydreams around Hunter!

"Congratulations," Leana murmured politely. "This is all rather unexpected, isn't it?" The long-lashed gaze went directly to Hunter, who appeared totally oblivious. What kind of a man, Stacy wondered in grim silence, could flirt with a woman one moment and spring a fiancee on her the next? Even though Leana certainly had no busi-ness getting remotely involved with Hunter Manning, Stacy had to admit her sister-in-law had some justification for resentment at this high-handed treatment. ' "When did you two meet?" Eric asked curiously, looking first at one and then the other.

"Shortly after I moved into town a couple months ago," Hunter responded glibly. He knew practically nothing about her, Stacy thought, wondering how Hunter would bluff his way past all the probable questions. They hadn't even discussed a story that would cover all the little details. But Hunter was nothing if not fast on his feet, she acknowledged a moment later as he grinned cheerfully at her brother. "Look, I know you're all bursting with questions, and we'll give you all the answers in time. Just now, though, I feel like celebrating very privately. Would you two excuse us? I'd like to take Stacy out for a gla.s.s of champagne. I deserve it. You don't know how hard I had to work out there on the patio just now! We wanted you to know, though, before we left. So if you don't mind..." Hunter was already edging himself and Stacy away through the eager crowd.

"Hey, wait a minute," Eric called after them. "When's the wed-ding?"

"As soon as I can manage it. Probably the end of this week," Hunter told him bluntly with just the smallest hint of challenge. "It's going to be a very small business, I'm afraid. I'm not in the mood to wait for a major social event. We'll let you know the details----" By now Hunter had his victim halfway out the front door. Stacy's last impression of the party was a ring of expectant, amused faces and her brother's bemused expression. There was one other image that stayed in her mind, she admitted as Hunter bundled her down the steps toward a sleek, expensive-looking foreign car parked at the curb, and that was the resentful, angry look on Leana's pretty face. She must be wondering why Stacy hadn't admitted knowing Hunter when she'd mentioned him while Stacy was arranging the flowers.

"Wait a minute," Stacy finally got out breathlessly, trying to dig in her heels prior to being ushered unceremoniously onto the rich leather seat of Hunter's car. "I've got my own transportation, and I'm not leaving it behind. I'll need it for work in the morning!"

"It's done," Hunter was saying, clearly not listening to her. There was a blaze of triumph in his face, which alarmed Stacy. It was a kind of savage satisfaction that made her wonder about the virtue of being single-minded. "It's done and there's no going back. Not after announcing it in front of all those people! The Rylans have lost a daughter. A fair exchange, wouldn't you agree? Sufficient payment for destroying my father...."

Stacy was forced to fling out a hand and brace herself against the low-slung roof of the vehicle in order to prevent herself from being tossed absently into the front seat. Her resistance finally seemed to penetrate Hunter's consciousness.

"What's the matter with you?" he demanded, a quick frown dark-ening his face. He glared down at her as she gritted her teeth and refused to move. "Get into the car! Oh, for G.o.d's sake, I'm not going to hurt you, you little fool. But we do have some things to talk about, as I'm sure you can understand...."

"You amaze me!" Stacy snapped flippantly, still not budging. "What could there possibly be for us to discuss? I thought you had everything completely settled. Why bother to talk over the details with me? I'm just the p.a.w.n in this stupid little game of yours!"

Hunter raised an eyebrow at that, giving her his full attention at last. "I appear to be.gaining a somewhat sarcastic-tongued female," he remarked, ceasing his efforts to urge her into the car in favor of bending over her in a warning fashion, "It seems I'm going to have to instruct my 'p.a.w.n' in a few of the basic rules governing our rela-tionship. There's no better time to begin than the present. Get into the car, Stacy Rylan, or I will put you there. Understood?"

Stacy held her ground, stubbornly refusing to budge. "You're the one who seems incapable of understanding things! All I want is to drive my own car home. I'll need it for work in the morning. Is that too much to ask? Good grief! If you're so anxious to talk to me, you can follow me home and we can talk there!"

There was a fractional hesitation on Hunter's part, and Stacy had the distinct impression he was seriously wondering whether he dared give in to her on even such a tiny matter.

"What's wrong?" she demanded bitterly. "Are you afraid I'll get the notion you're weak just because you display a bit of reasonable-ness?"

A very feral grin slashed across Hunter's hard face, and the gray eyes laughed wickedly down at her sober, rebellious expression. "The one thing I would never allow myself to be with a Rylan is weak," he a.s.sured her blandly. "And for your own sake, I trust you'll never make the mistake of confusing reasonableness with weakness! But, yes, I can be reasonable at times. Where is this precious vehicle of yours?" He glanced vaguely around at the cars parked along the curb.

"Over there." Stacy nodded her head toward the opposite curb.

"The panel van?" Hunter asked in surprise.

"Yes."

"Not quite what I would expect a spoiled daughter of the Rylan clan to be driving," he commented, shutting the door to his own car and taking Stacy's arm in a forcible grip.

"But, then, you really don't know very much about me at all, do you?" Stacy retorted acidly as he started them across the street.

He laughed wickedly at that, his head tilting in the light of a streetlamp, causing the silver streak of hair to gleam for an instant. "I know enough, little Rylan. You've got the Rylan pride, and you're vulnerable. What more do I need to know?" There was a taunting, baiting quality in his words that made Stacy glance warily at him out of the corner of her eye.

"You think that's sufficient to want to marry me?" she said, com-ing to a halt on the driver's side of the van. She glared up at him in the pale light, her brows drawing together in a heavy frown.

"Quite sufficient, thank you," he mocked, reaching out to open the door behind her. "I'm sure it will be much more interesting using you to further my goals than it would have been using your sister-in-law. I should thank you for taking the initiative back there on the patio and introducing yourself! With you, at least, there will be some challenge involved in this affair!"

"Speaking of which," Stacy pounced, making another effort to mitigate her bargain, "why don't you reconsider my first offer? Surely the pretense of an affair with me will achieve your goal. I can't see that marrying me will accomplish much more."

"That's because you don't appreciate the subtle difference be-tween an affair and marriage," he retorted silkily. "But I believe your father will! Only with marriage can I make you a Manning."

"You'd tie us both down like that just for the sake of revenge?" she whispered helplessly, searching the hardness of his face and knowing she was arguing uselessly. Still, she had to try. Marriage to this man was a totally unnerving prospect.

"I'd tie you down," he corrected grimly, motioning her into the front seat of the small truck. "Now stop trying to , make me change my mind. It won't do you any good, and the sooner you realize that, the better. Where do you live?" he added, closing the door behind her as she settled reluctantly into the seat. He spoke through the open window, his hand resting on the handle.

Stacy drew a resigned breath and told him. He nodded, stepping back.

"I'll follow you."

"We... we could finish discussing this in the morning...." she suggested hopefully as she started the engine.

"We could, but we're not going to." He smiled laconically. "I be-lieve in taking care of loose ends once a decision has been made. I'll see you in a few minutes. Oh, and, Stacy," he tacked on negligently, on thejjemt of turning away to cross the street.

"Yes?" she muttered unhappily.

"You won't try anything foolish like attempting to lose me on the way home, will you? Even if you've ^iven me the wrong address, I'll still find you. You would only succeed in postponing the inevitable for a very short time," he warned with a small smile full of lazy menace.

"You'd track me down like a gunfighter going after revenge, is that it?" Stacy mocked deliberately, putting the truck in gear.

"Not quite," he murmured, moving away. "More like a man go-ing after his runaway woman! A much more violent matter, I can a.s.sure you."

Stacy didn't linger around to hear any more. She stepped on the gas, heading for the corner ahead.

Well, she'd really gotten herself into a mess this time, Stacy lec-tured herself as she drove across town to the small Mexican adobe-style house she was renting. Paul Rylan would undoubtedly find the whole situation mar-velously entertaining. Would he understand at all why she-had done it? Would he care? Neither her father nor her mother would probably have any idea of just how shaky her brother's marriage had become lately. And even if he were aware of it, the elder Rylan would be furious at the suggestion that his son couldn't handle business and personal matters simultaneously. After all, he'd never experienced any difficulty!

Stacy sighed again, glancing in the rearview mirror at the head-lights following so closely behind. Her wayward imagination sug-gested it was like being followed home by the devil, and she felt a shiver course through her at the notion.

A pact with the devil. Wasn't that what she was making tonight? Stacy chewed reflectively on her lower lip, absently watching stop-lights and traffic. She wished badly she'd had more opportunity to think back there on the patio. There must have been other ways of handling this strange, dark man with the silver in his black mane of hair. But he had controlled the situation from the moment Stacy had given him the option of using herself instead of Leana in his plot.

Eventually Stacy slowed down and stopped the truck in front of the neat little house set in a block of other neat little homes in the same style. Arched doorways, red tile roofs, and ornate iron grill-work were common themes throughout the neighborhood. The only things that distinguished Stacy's residence were the unusually attrac-tive landscaping and the greenhouse in the backyard.

Hunter's sleek car purred gently to a halt behind the truck, and the piercing headlights were switched off as Stacy climbed out of her vehicle and jumped lightly to the pavement.

She turned to watch him opening his door and involuntarily re-membered the legends that said the devil dealt very harshly with those who dared bargain with him.

CHAPTER THREE.

"To what," Hunter inquired, sauntering forward to confront Stacy, "does the sign on the van refer?" He nodded toward the elaborate lettering on the side of the truck, which read, STACY'S NURSERY AND LANDSCAPING, INC.

"I should think it obvious," Stacy remarked sarcastically, moving toward her front door while she quickly went through the numerous keys on her ring. "I work for a living, Mr. Manning."

"You own a nursery?" he prodded, pacing along beside her like a dark shadow. She was aware of his enigmatic gaze on her profile as she opened the front door, but refused to glance up and meet it.

"Yes." She saw no reason to go into any detail about it. He'd find out all he needed to know about her soon enough, she decided grimly, leading the way into the small tiled foyer.

"Good Lord!" he muttered, nearly colliding with the huge fern hanging near the door. As he sidestepped it Hunter found himself perilously close to a low planter featuring an artistically arranged collection of cacti and succulents. "Do you run the business out of your home?" he growled, weaving his way with great care through the plant-choked foyer and into the small, cozy living room, where every window had been modified into a minigreen-house.

"No, my business is located a few miles from here in a commer-cial district where I have room for the plants and materials I stock, of course," she returned negligently, tossing her keys onto a small table and flinging herself down into a rattan chair, with its brilliant floral pattern cushion. She sat, feet stretched out in front of her and crossed at the ankles, her arms lying along the curve of the chair's sides, and watched him as he moved cautiously about the room. The flowers on her shirt clashed cheerfully with the chair.

"Somehow I never envisioned a Rylan working with his or her hands," Hunter remarked sardonically, going from one plant-filled window to the next. "Oh, a bit of skillful flower arranging now and then, perhaps, might be a suitable hobby, but I didn't expect anything on this scale!" He turned his head to glance at her sprawled figure. "Did Daddy set you up in business?" he asked, one brow arching with mockery.

"No!" Stacy blurted, and then quickly got herself back under con-trol. She didn't want this man to know how disgusted her father had been when she'd announced her intention of choosing nursery work as a career. Knowing that might give Hunter a clue to the real rela-tionship between father and daughter, and it was much too early for that. "I... established the business on my own," she finished quietly. "Rylans are quite capable of hard work. You of all people should know that!"

"And you're a Rylan right down to your toes, aren't you?" He nodded, prowling on to the next window. Before she could respond, he abruptly swung around and walked back across the room to take the chair opposite hers. Stacy was grateful for the low gla.s.s-topped table between them as Hunter leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, to fix her with an intent, determined look.

"A Rylan to your toes," he repeated softly, watching her frown-ing face. "Yes, it's going to be interesting transforming you into a Manning under your father's eyes."

"Do you keep your bargains, Hunter?" Stacy asked very quietly. "Will you really keep your claws off my brother and his wife if I marry you?"

"Yes, Stacy Rylan," he whispered in a dark, rough-textured voice full of meaning. "I keep my bargains. As long as you stay married to me, your brother and his wife are safe."

"Regardless of how satisfied or unsatisfied you may be with the pact afterward?" she pressed with a tiny hint of fierceness. "Regard-less of the success of your revenge?"

"You have my word," he retorted with unconscious arrogance, and suddenly Stacy relaxed. Whatever else one might say about Hunter Manning, she was very certain he was a man whose word was his bond. If she went through with this deal, he would keep his side of it. But what would he do to her when he found out how poorly she would suit his goal of revenge?

Stacy sucked in her breath, her eyes never leaving his. "Won't you give me some idea of how long you intend to waste both our lives in this stupid venture?" she grated. "Six months? A year? What will it take to satisfy you?"

He smiled at that a slashing, buccaneering grin that # made her painfully aware of how much he intended to have her in his power. "You want to know the limit on your prison sentence?"

"It's customary!"

"What if I said I had no intention of ever dissolving the mar-riage?" he murmured evenly, the fog-colored eyes raking her bluntly.

"I wouldn't believe you," Stacy returned softly, certainly. "Sooner or later you'll realize how pointless all this really is. Or you'll meet someone and fall in love. Oneway or another, you'll want to be free of me."

"Or you'll want to be free of me?" he hazarded silkily. "What's the matter, Stacy, are you trying to figure out what to tell the current man in your life? Trying to decide how long to tell him to wait for you? If so, then I advise you to forget it. I'm not going to hold out the hope of a short-term arrangement that you can then use to talk another man into waiting. I've told you, you're going to become my woman; a Manning woman. There will be no other men!"

Stacy winced at the determination in his words but refused to let her fear and anger show outwardly. Instead, with a tremendous effort of will, she made herself shrug with deceptive casualness.

"Suit yourself," she stated coolly. "My own personal estimate is less than six months. Probably three or four at the most."

"Three or four months from now you will probably know better than to bring the subject up again!" he returned coldly. "Now, why don't you offer to make me some coffee like a good hostess and we'll get down to details?"

"Why should I bother being the gracious hostess?" she quipped. "If you want to talk, go ahead and talk." Stacy made no move to get out of her chair.

"Having made your deal, you're going to fight me every inch of the way, is that it?" Hunter asked almost humorously, sweeping her stubbornly relaxed figure for an instant before quite suddenly rising to his feet and circling the gla.s.s table to tower over her.

"We're not married yet," she breathed tightly, not liking the cool menace in those stormy eyes. She felt very uncomfortable with him so close.

"I'm not asking you to play wife, merely hostess." He smiled, reaching down to clamp hard fingers around her nearest wrist. "I really recommend that you don't try to defy me over every little thing, Stacy," he warned, yanking her lightly, effortlessly to her feet and holding her in front of him. "Save your strength for the impor-tant battles, or you'll be exhausted before the week is out!"

"Are you threatening me?" she hissed, trying unsuccessfully to remove her wrist from his grasp.

"Yes, I am." He nodded rather amiably. "Would you like to hear the gory details? I wouldn't want there to be any misunderstanding between us, not over such an important issue!"