'Modelling?' He studied her. 'Were you a model?'
She nodded, and sipped a little coffee.
'That's probably it,' he decided. 'I must have seen you in a magazine or something—did you do that sort of work ?'
Liza nodded again. 'And you?' she said. 'What exactly do you do? You said you studied psychology—are you a practising psychologist?"
In a way,' he said blandly. 'Modern psychology isn't a matter of listening to patients lying on a couch and fantasising about their sex lives, you know. It's more a question of group psychology; why women buy one brand of perfume and not another, for instance—that's my job.'
'You mean market research?"
'Something like that, yes."
Liza looked at him with interest. 'We employed a firm of market researchers last year, trying to find out which was the perfect model to sell a new kind of soap."
'What was the result? A blonde?"
'A child," Liza said drily and he laughed. She stared at him. '1 got the impression you were a farmer!' she said half accusingly, because he still looked more like a farmer than anything else.
'Interesting you should say that,' he murmured. 'My family do have a farm, and I spend a lot of time there.'
'Is it near here?'
He got up and came over with the coffee-pot. 'Have some more coffee."
Liza held up her cup and he filled it, bending over her. She glanced up and saw his eyes fixed on her face; then she felt that stare focusing on her mouth, and her body tensed. It wasn't a casual look, Keir Zachary was staring intently; Liza's face began to burn and then his gaze lifted until their eyes met. He straightened and turned away, went back to the sofa and sat down, but the room was no longer warm and cosy, it was full of tension and Liza's nervous anxiety was back.
She wasn't the type to be highly strung or imagine things, but he was a total stranger to her and they were in this cottage alone, too far from the nearest building to be heard if she started yelling for help. Her fears had been allayed while he was cooking that meal, because a man as calmly capable as that was hardly the type to turn nasty suddenly or make a violent pass at her, but just now there had been something in those hard blue eyes which made her uneasy and disturbed. He was much bigger than her, and those were real muscles under his thin shirt; he looked like a tough customer even when he was relaxed und smiling.
Well," she said, drinking a little of the coffee and then putting the cup down. 'I think I'll get you the bed linen, ihen I'll head for bed myself.'
This time he didn't try to stop her; he leaned back, sipping coffee, watching her with his lids half drawn over his blue eyes. The gaze was drowsy, lazy, without any visible threat, yet Liza felt the back of her neck prickle as she slid out of the room and went up to find blankets and a pillow. She went to her bedroom and switched on the electric fire in there; that would warm the room a little before she came up to get undressed.
She went back downstairs with an armful of blankets and found Keir Zachary on his feet by the electric fire, his hands in his pockets and his lean body lounging casually. Liza began to make his bed up and he turned to watch her. A curious shiver ran down her spine under that gaze; she wished she knew what he was thinking.
i hope you'll be able to sleep on it,' she said with a brief glance at him as she turned back towards the door.
'I'm sure I shall,' he murmured, moving faster than she had expected.
Her nerves leapt again and she looked up at him, her green eyes wide and dark-pupilled. 'Well, goodnight,' she said huskily, but he didn't answer. His hand reached out before she could move away and she felt his fingers moving in her hair. He was watching her through those half-closed eyes and Liza swallowed uneasily.
'What do you think you're doing?' She put up a hand to push him away, but too late. Her long pale hair fell and tumbled around her face, down her back, over her shoulders.
'I wondered what it looked like when it wasn't dragged off your face so ruthlessly,' he said softly.
'I think you'd better go!' Liza flared, her face running with angry colour as she grabbed the heavy weight of hair and tried to gather it back into a chignon, i should have rung the police, shouldn't I ? I think I'll do that now. I'm not going to let you think you can maul me about. . .'
'Don't over-react!' he drawled, his face derisive. 'And don't put your hair up again—it suits you better like that. It makes you look less severe.'
'Severe!' The word startled her; she didn't like having it applied to herself. 'Don't be ridiculous!" She turned bright, furious green eyes up to him, catlike and spitting with rage. 'You're just trying to distract me, but it won't work! Don't ever dare to touch me again!'
Didn't your mother tell you it isn't wise to dare a man to do anything?" he murmured, standing much too close and she took a step backward in sudden alarm because the way he was watching her had made alarm bells ring in her head.
'Goodnight,* she said, trying to edge round him to the door.
You're very beautiful,' he whispered in a soft, intimate voice and she shivered in panic.
'You can stop right there!' she muttered, sliding a hurried glance around for a weapon in case he turned violent. 'Lay a finger on me and . . .'