I knocked. There was no sound from within the trailer. I raised my hand to knock again at the moment the door was pulled open.
Laurie stiffened. "You! I told you not to come."
"And I said I had to talk to you."
She started to close the door but I shoved through. The door slammed behind me.
She held herself stiff with anger, her small fists clenched, but even the rigidity of her body could not change the curving softness of breast and hip and thigh to which the pale green tissue of her dress clung. Confronting her in the small room, I felt the same quick surge of desire, the same overpowering response to her beauty that had swept over me the night before when her physical presence had seemed to dominate the confined space of my own trailer. I had never reacted to a woman so immediately and so forcefully.
How much of my reaction showed in the way I stared at her I don't know, but it seemed to me that the bright spark of anger in her green eyes subtly altered.
"I'm not sure what you're trying to prove," she said, less sharply than I had expected, "but this isn't the way. You can leave right now."
"No. I'm here and you're going to listen to me."
Abruptly she turned away, scooping up a light coat from the back of a chair. She started toward the door.
"If you want to talk, there's a restaurant not far up the road. Maybe the waitress will listen."