She gave up waiting for his answer. "Your frown is getting worse. Shall I tell you a joke?"

"No."

"Shall I kiss you?"

"No!"

"Shall I tell you where you can find the nearest switch?"

The sound he made was half groan, half laugh. It was actually a horrible sound, though at that moment it was music to Amy's ears.

"Much better." She grinned up at him. "But we still haven't managed a smile. Will some compliments help? You do look splendid tonight. And I like what you've done with your hair." He'd clubbed it back for the occasion. "You aren't going to cut it?"

"And look more English?"

"Ah, so there's rhyme and reason to your unfashionable locks. Now why didn't I guess?" After a moment of silence, she prodded him. "Well?"

"What?"

"Aren't you going to return the 245 compliments?"

"No."

"Didn't think so, but it was worth a try."

"Amy, why don't you be quiet for five minutes?" he suggested.

"Silence doesn't make progress."

"You'd be surprised."

"Ah, so you just want to hold me? Why didn't you say so?"

He groaned. Why wouldn't she give up? Unless ...

"You're pregnant, aren't you?" He'd finally figured it out.

"What?"

"And he won't marry you, so you're desperate to find someone who will."

She sighed. "I honestly don't know why I don't get furious with you, Warren Anderson. I must love you already. Yes, that would explain it."

He stiffened. "You said you didn't."

"I said I wasn't sure, but why else would I let you treat me so shabbily without boxing your ears for it?"

"My point exactly," he replied. "And

don't bother to deny it."

"Oh, I won't," she said in a tone he hadn't heard from her before. "I'll let you discover that truth for yourself, when you get around to it. But in the meantime, I've changed my mind. I'm going to be furious with you after all."

She walked out of his arms and right off the floor. He stood there for a moment, incredulous that she'd actually lost her temper. Well, good. She couldn't seduce him with her provocative innuendos if she refused to speak to him, now could she?

To hell with that. He wanted to hear her deny that she was pregnant. Blast it, he had to hear her deny it--or own up to it. He was surprised at how much it meant to him.

He started to follow her. He got no further than the edge of the dance floor, where James and Anthony each took one of his arms to steer him in another direction. He started to protest. He had no patience for these two now, and especially not for their irritating drollery. But they were in a blasted hurry to get wherever they were going, and rather insistent on dragging him along with them.

Warren couldn't imagine what they wanted.

Probably no more than needing a fourth 247 in some card game. Although with James Malory, it could be something as simple as objecting to the cut of his coat.

All right, he could spare a moment. If the uncles were both here, then Amy wasn't going anywhere.

But it certainly wasn't the cut of his coat James was interested in as they entered an empty billiards room.

Warren was slammed up against the wall the very moment the door was closed. Anthony's hand leaned against it to keep it that way, while James's fists locked on Warren's lapels.

"You've got one second, Yank, to convince me you don't have designs on my niece."

Ordinarily, Warren would have said nothing, would have just started swinging. But this was his sister's husband. This was also the one man he didn't stand a chance of beating--yet. And the reason that had James looking like hell warmed over was so ludicrous, Warren almost laughed.

God, this was rich. The girl blatantly pursues him, and he was going to get taken to task for it. The hell he was.

"I don't," he said emphatically.

"Now why don't I believe you?" James replied.

"Is there a crime against dancing with her?"

"There's a crime in the way you were looking at her," James said.

Warren groaned inwardly. Well, she'd tried to tell him someone would notice. Did it have to be these two?

He gave a shot at a plausible excuse. "I've got a lot on my mind, Malory. The way I look at people often has nothing to do with them in particular."

Which was true, but not in this case. Damn, they were making him feel like a callow youth caught with his pants down. And all he'd done was try to put the girl off. And think about her more than he should.

And nearly make love to her in the middle of a damn road. The images came back to him, hot and strong.

"Hate to say it," Anthony said reasonably, "but it's possible, James."

"With him, indeed it is," James agreed, though he was still skeptical enough to ask Warren, "So you're not attracted to her a'tall?"

"I didn't say that," Warren heard 249 himself respond, almost in her defense.

"Wrong answer, Yank."

Warren was slammed into the wall again for that little truth. His head cracked against it this time, which started his temper rolling.

"You want me to deny that she's incredibly lovely?" he growled. "I'd have to be dead not to have noticed that. Now get your hands off me."

The hands didn't come off his coat yet, but James's tone was a lot milder as he pointed out, "She's too young for you to notice."

Warren agreed, but since it was James saying it, he replied, "You're a fine one to talk. Georgie was only a few years older than Amy when you met her, and you're older than I am."

Four years was a few more than a few between Amy's and Georgina's ages, and James was only one year older than Warren, so comparing the two just didn't wash with either Malory brother.

"Maybe a change in his vision is called for," Anthony suggested. "A little blurring so he don't see so good to notice things he oughtn't. I'd be happy to take care of it, old man, if you're worried about what George will say."

"Not a'tall. That just isn't enough."

That did it for Warren. "This is absurd!" he exploded at last. "I've told you I don't have designs on the girl. But if you want to protect her so-called virtue, you ought to put her under lock and key. Maybe then I'll get some peace."

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" James demanded.

"It means that your niece has been throwing herself at me every damn opportunity she gets."

"Wait!" Anthony choked out. "Let me laugh a bit over that one before you kill him."

James wasn't as amused as his brother."Are you demented, to think you can use that excuse with us, Yank? Or have you deluded yourself into thinking a sweet girl's smiles and looks are displays of other than friendliness?"

Warren sighed. He really shouldn't have said it. Damn temper. And it felt nearly like a betrayal of Amy, though he'd never promised he would keep her shameful secret. However, if they'd bothered to believe him, he might have got the help he needed to keep Amy away from him. But they weren't going to believe him. Her 251 Miss Innocent act obviously had her whole family fooled.

"I don't suppose you'd accept my word on it?"

"Not bloody likely," James told him.

"Then take my earlier assurances and let it go at that, Malory."

"After you've besmirched Amy's character? I don't think so, dear boy. I'll hear a retraction, or you'll be carried back to your hotel tonight."

This, unfortunately, was a threat to take seriously. James, blustering, wasn't prone to violence. It was when he reverted to form after the blustering that he was most deadly. Warren was going to have to fight him after all. Ah, well ...

"I wouldn't have mentioned it if you weren't so aggravating, Malory. But since I have, it would have been nice to have a little help in this matter, instead of total skepticism. Why do you think I haven't come to see Georgie for the remainder of this week? Why do you think I turned down her offer to move in after my brothers leave tomorrow? I'd be afraid to sleep under your roof for fear Amy would crawl into my bed--was

He leaned to the side just in time. James's fist slammed into the wall behind him, barely missing his ear.

They all three heard the wood crack, and a spot of blood appeared on the silk wall coverings from James's knuckle.

"Told you he was improving," Anthony said in one of his drier tones.

But in his inattention, the door suddenly shoved open, just far enough for Amy to slip inside. And she didn't need a crystal ball to figure out what was going on.

With one look at Warren and James, she asked her uncle, "You haven't hurt him, have you?"

"Does he look hurt, puss?" Anthony said.

"We're just having a--discussion," James added, letting go of the one lapel of Warren's he'd still been holding, and dusting it off, as if that was all he'd been doing. "Nothing that might interest you, m'dear. So run along and--was

"Don't treat me like a child, Uncle James. What has he done this time that you want to trounce him for?"

"He's besmirched the good name of someone 253 we're acquainted with. He was just about to apologize, however, so if you'll go back to your dancing, he can get on with it."

Amy didn't budge. She looked at Warren and ventured a guess. "You told them?"

There was a hurt look in her eyes that went right to Warren's gut. No wonder it had felt like a betrayal.

She saw it that way. The hurt was concealed almost instantly, however, a determined resolve taking its place.

"Very well, there's no harm done," she said. "They would have found out soon enough when we announce our engagement."

"What?" both uncles exclaimed at once.

"You forgot to mention we're getting married, Warren?" she asked in wide-eyed innocence.

"We're not getting married, Amy," Warren gritted out, his color darkening.

She turned to James. "You see what I've had to put up with? Rejection at every turn. But he'll come around." And then, to Warren: "What did you tell them, then? Certainly not your latest absurd notion that I'm pregnant?"

"What?" both uncles said again, while Warren's face darkened another degree.

"It's what he thinks," she explained, again with that air of innocence. "I'm not, of course, but he's too cynical to accept my word on it. Besides, he'd prefer to have any reason other than the simple truth, that I want him." At the three incredulous looks she was getting because of her astounding revelations, she said, "That isn't what he told you either? Ah, then he must have merely confessed that I've been trying to seduce him."

"Amy!" Anthony exclaimed.

And from James: "This isn't the least bit amusing, minx. What the devil d'you think you're doing, coming up with these half-baked absurdities?"

At that Warren actually laughed. "Richer and richer. They aren't going to believe you any more than they did me. So you might as well run along, little girl, and leave me my small advantage."

"I've asked you not to call me that, you wretched man, and I'm not going anywhere."

But she was ignored for the moment because Anthony wanted to know, "What advantage?"

"Broken knuckles." 255

"He's got a good point," Anthony said to his brother.

"It makes no bloody difference," was James's reply.

At which point Amy got back into the fray, insisting, "There isn't going to be any fighting, or Aunt George is going to hear about this. And I don't think she'll take too kindly to your stomping on her brother for simply telling the truth. Aunt Roslynn is going to be apprised as well, that you didn't do anything to stop it, Uncle Tony. And I think Uncle Jason should be made aware--was

"The first two did it, imp," Anthony said, seeing the chagrin on his brother's face. "Actually, just George did it. And when did you start taking lessons from Reggie on manipulation?"

"That wasn't manipulation, that was blackmail. But then, that's the man I intend to marry that you're threatening the health of."

"Good God, you weren't serious?" Anthony said, suddenly afraid she was.

Amy didn't get a chance to answer. Warren

stated once again, "I won't," and to James, with even more emphasis, "I won't."

"He will," Amy corrected with her perpetual confidence, and then said with clear warning, "But he can't be forced. I won't have him if he's forced. He knows that, though it doesn't relieve him any, since he hasn't made the adjustment yet that we're meant for each other. Now I'll leave you gentlemen, but I'd best not see a single mark on him later, Uncle James."

"Good God, Anderson," Anthony said as soon as Amy flounced out the door, "I sympathize, indeed I do."

"I don't," James growled. "What the hell did you do to her to make her set her cap for you?"

"Not a blasted thing."

"You can't have her, Yank."

"I don't want her."

"You're a bloody liar."

Warren was about ready to explode again. "Then let me put it this way. I won't touch her. And I will continue to discourage her. I can't do more than that."