The Ties That Bind (10 page)

"Hello, Shannon. I wasn't expecting you."

She sucked in her breath, realizing that in the back of her mind she'd been hoping that he'd at least greet her with a kiss. Managing a small, uncertain smile, she faced him. "I decided to surprise you and drive down for the party tonight." Summoning up all her courage, she walked across the room and lifted her face for his kiss. She waited with a pounding heart to see if he would embarrass her in front of Bonnie and the man behind him in the office.

There was a tense moment while Garth simply looked down at her. She couldn't begin to guess what he was thinking, but Shannon knew he wasn't pleased. Then, to her intense relief, he lowered his head and kissed her briefly. It wasn't exactly a lover's greeting, she decided bleakly, but at least he hadn't sent her packing on the spot.

"A surprise, hmm?" He shook his head once. "I should have guessed you'd pull something like this. Wes, this is Shannon
Raine
." Garth made the introduction without taking his eyes off Shannon.

Wes McIntyre came forward, extending his hand and a warm, friendly smile. "I'm pleased to meet you, Shannon. Have a long drive?"

Grateful for the easy, cheerful greeting, Shannon grinned ruefully. "No air-conditioning in my car. It shows. I'd forgotten how warm it can get over here."

"Where are you from?"

"The coast. Near Mendocino."

"Great country," Wes said, looking wistful. "Sounds especially good on a day like this."

Bonnie stepped forward and began chatting in a bright, friendly manner. It occurred to Shannon that the secretary and Wes were both doing their best to cover up Garth's cool, remote manner. She was increasingly grateful to both of them.

"Shannon made that tote bag, Wes. Isn't it fantastic? Most unusual accessory I've seen in a long time. She says she has one down in the car that has a B on it. I was just about to beg for it when you and Mr. Sheridan opened the door."

"Very interesting," Wes said, admiring the bag. "It's different. What's the process?"

"Silk-screening," Shannon told him and plunged into a detailed discussion of how she created the designs. Anything was better than having Garth stand there looking at her as if he didn't know what to do with her. But even as she began a description of the design process, Garth apparently came to a decision about what to do next.

"It's almost lunchtime," he announced, glancing at the stainless-steel watch on his wrist. He began rolling down the sleeves of his shirt and fastening the cuffs. "Bonnie, you and Wes grab a bite to eat. I'll take Shannon out for a meal and meet both of you back here in an hour."

"Sure," Wes said, just as if the words hadn't constituted an order. "Come on, Bonnie, I'll treat you to a Monster Burger."

Bonnie laughed, her beautiful eyes lighting with real pleasure. "The last of the big spenders."

"Hey, I work for Garth Sheridan. That's big-time, baby. Only the best for you."

Wes took
Bonnie's
arm in a familiar fashion and led her toward the elevator. When it closed behind them, Shannon risked an amused glance in Garth's direction, "I sense an office romance in bloom."

Garth shrugged. "As long as they keep it out of the office, I don't give a damn. Let's go." Shannon got a glimpse of papers scattered across a glass-topped desk before Garth closed the door to his inner office, locked it and then took Shannon's arm.

The ride down in the elevator was completed in silence. Garth didn't say anything at all until he caught sight of the little red Fiat sitting near his Porsche. "You really like to live dangerously, don't you? Two hundred miles in that thing?"

Shannon didn't respond as she allowed herself to be seated in the Porsche. She stared gloomily at the telephone installed on the driver's side. Garth had said he didn't consider his car a luxury. Maybe having a phone in it made it a business expense as far as he was concerned. A moment later Garth slid in beside her, filling the car with his dominating presence. She still wasn't sure of his mood.

"I had to come, Garth."

He backed the Porsche out of its slot. "Why?"

"Because it was beginning to look as if you would never invite me, and I wasn't content to know only the side of you that you planned to let me see on the weekends." She turned in the seat, her fingers digging into the fabric of the tote bag on her lap. "Admit it, you probably never would have invited me to San Jose, would you?"

"Probably not. There's no need. You don't belong here."

"Why not?"

"Hell, it's hard to explain. Let's just say I don't want you mixed up with the kind of people who will be at the party tonight. It's not going to be your kind of crowd, Shannon. My working world isn't a very nice one, and I didn't want you getting involved with it."

"Garth, I'm not completely naive. I'm also not a silly, empty-headed female or an artist who's incapable of dealing with the real world. You don't have to protect me. Ever since we started this relationship you've been laying down rules and marking off boundaries that I'm not to cross. You were making it very clear that I'm to stay confined to my cottage on the coast and wait dutifully for you to arrive on the weekends. Then I find out I'm not even going to get every weekend with you. Your social life here in San Jose takes precedence. Did you really expect me to get involved in a serious relationship that operates on that kind of basis? I tried to adjust for a while, Garth, but I've decided it's not going to work. If that's what you want, you're going to have to find another woman."

Garth shifted gears with a smooth, savage movement. "So you decided to drive over to San Jose this weekend and throw down the gauntlet, is that it?"

Shannon sighed, collapsing back against the seat. "I was hoping you'd realize how ridiculous it is to try to keep me confined to just a tiny corner of your life."

There was a taut silence, and then Garth said quietly, "I don't know why I keep forgetting how persistent you can be when you make up your mind. All right, Shannon. You're here. There's not much I can do about it now. We'll go to the party tonight, and tomorrow we'll talk about how this relationship is going to operate in the future."

Shannon studied his profile, unable to determine whether she had won or lost the battle. One step at a time, she told herself bracingly. Risking a small smile, she tried to put the conversation onto a more neutral subject.

"Are you and Wes McIntyre still working on that bid proposal for
Carstairs
?"

"That's right.
Bonnie's
typing the final version today. It goes to
Carstairs
in another week or so. We're finishing it in plenty of time." Garth kept his answers clipped as he nosed the
Forsche
into the parking lot of a small restaurant.

"I like Bonnie," Shannon ventured.

"She's a first-class secretary." Garth seemed to think that said it all. He led the way toward the restaurant.

"If she's the one typing your precious bid proposal, you must trust her as much as you trust McIntyre."

"I suppose so," Garth said offhandedly as he and Shannon stepped inside the air-conditioned restaurant. "Unfortunately, you can't do business efficiently unless you let a few key people in on all the facts. But I take as many precautions as possible. That bid package doesn't leave my office except in my briefcase. There are no copies."

Shannon shot him a curious glance. "If you had your choice, you'd keep everything to yourself and not trust anyone, right?"

"Life works better that way."

"Where did you learn to be so paranoid, Garth?"

"I'm not paranoid, I'm realistic. After you've met a few of my social acquaintances tonight, maybe you'll see why."

IT WASN'T HARD to spot the
Hutchinsons
' home. The Ferraris and Porsches were parked in two gleaming rows along the curbs for over a block. Shannon looked at them in amused awe as Garth slid his car into a spot at the end of one line.

"Does everyone in Silicon Valley drive a Ferrari or a Porsche?"

"The Ferrari is actually the preferred car," Garth told her dryly. "Driving one implies the owner has just gone public with the stock in his firm and is now a very important computer wizard. Porsches are for us more staid types." He opened the door on her side and helped her out. "All right, let's get this over with."

"We're supposed to be going to a party, Garth, not our doom."

"Planning to enjoy yourself?" His gaze moved over her slim dress of yellow silk. It had a scooped neck, puffed sleeves and it was patterned with colorful flowers around the hem. Shannon had paired it with yellow high-heeled sandals and a simple gold necklace. She carried one of her exquisite tote bags, which somehow went as beautifully with the silk dress as it did with jeans. Garth had never seen Shannon dressed like this. He had been eyeing her covertly ever since she had emerged from the bedroom of the house. He was aware of the fact that even though he was apprehensive about the evening ahead, he was, nevertheless, almost fiercely proud of her. She was so gloriously different from the vast majority of women he knew.

The sophistication of the dress was a piquant contrast to the honesty of her smile and the genuine friendliness in her eyes. The combination was inherently dangerous, he realized. There were going to be men here tonight who would find Shannon an amusing challenge. His fingers closed tightly on her elbow as he guided her toward the Hutchinson's Chinese-red doors, and he wished he and Shannon were back at the coast so that he could indulge her sweet recklessness without fear of the results.

"Of course I'm planning to enjoy myself," she announced breezily as they walked up the tiled steps. "I haven't been to a real party in a long time."

Garth smiled reluctantly, unable to completely resist the cheerful enthusiasm in her. "Stay close to me. I don't want you wandering off by yourself tonight, understand?"

"This isn't a jungle, Garth."

"That's a matter of opinion." He raised his hand to punch the doorbell.

The door was opened a few minutes later by an attractive woman in her late fifties. Her silver hair was cut in the latest style, and her figure in the expensive red jersey dress could have been that of a much younger woman. She greeted Garth with delight.

"You made it. Steve and I always wonder when we issue you an invitation. It's good to see you again, Garth. And who is this?" She turned brightly to greet Shannon.

"Shannon
Raine
. Shannon, this is Ellen Hutchinson. She and her husband, Steve, are our hosts this evening." Garth didn't release Shannon's arm as he made the introductions.

"How nice to meet you, my dear. Come on inside. I'll show you where you can leave your bag, if you like. It certainly is unusual. Very attractive. We'll just be a minute, Garth. Steve and the others are out on the back terrace."

Garth nodded reluctantly as Shannon was swept down a hall to a bedroom that was obviously serving as a temporary cloakroom. There were several other purses on the bed and a few shawls tossed across one brocade chair.

"I know Garth didn't have a chance to tell you I'd be earning with him this evening, Mrs. Hutchinson. I hope I haven't inconvenienced you." Shannon put her tote down on the bed and turned to her hostess with a smile.

"I can't tell you how happy we are to have you here tonight," Ellen Hutchinson declared firmly. "It's good to see Garth with a nice young woman again. It's like pulling teeth getting him to mix socially, you know. Steve and I were fully prepared for him to simply not show up at all this evening. Garth hates social functions that are in any way related to business. Actually, I'm not sure he really enjoys any kind of social function."

"So I gather."

"It probably has something to do with Christine, of course. Once burned, twice shy and all that." Ellen started toward the door.

"Christine?" Shannon tried to sound casual, as if she couldn't quite place the name.

"His ex-wife. Perhaps he hasn't mentioned her to you?"

"We don't discuss her."

"Not surprising, under the circumstances." Ellen chuckled conspiratorially. "Just between the two of us, you're not at all like her. I never could warm to Christine. Then, when she ran off with James..."

This was going too quickly. Shannon coughed a little and cleared her throat. "Garth hasn't told me the story," she said diffidently, feeling she ought to cut off the flow of information.

"Not many men want to explain to a new love that their ex-wife ran off with their best friend. James was not only Garth's friend, they were partners. I really am chatting too much, aren't I? Steve tells me I tend to talk too much, and I'm afraid he's right. It's just that I was really so pleased to see you and Garth here tonight. Come along, Shannon. I want to introduce you to everyone."

The doorbell chimed just as Ellen Hutchinson was guiding Shannon toward the terrace. Ellen paused to open it, took one look at Wes McIntyre accompanied by Bonnie Garnett and laughed. "I think I'm getting behind on the latest style," she announced. "Where is everyone getting those wonderful tote bags?"

Bonnie smiled, glancing down at the tote Shannon had given her after lunch that afternoon. "As far as I know, there's only one other running around San Jose. Hi, Shannon."

"Hello, Bonnie. I'm glad you like the bag."

"I couldn't resist bringing it tonight. It does wonders for this dress."

Shannon was about to reply when Garth's voice sounded from directly behind her.

"Here's your drink, Shannon."

She spun around, realizing she hadn't heard his approach. "Thank you, Garth." Demurely she accepted the glass of white wine.

"Come on out on the terrace. You might as well meet a few of these people."

Shannon nodded, ignoring the cool tone of his voice. She sensed the silent tension in him as he casually made introductions to a bewildering variety of people. His possessiveness must have been obvious to the others, she decided. Garth rarely left her side as the party wore on. He hovered over her like a protective hawk, his expression watchful.