The Ties That Bind (13 page)

"Damn you, Shannon. You weren't supposed to run."

THE TRIP BACK UP THE COAST seemed endless. At one point Shannon grimly pointed out to herself that the long drive would have eventually come between herself and Garth, even if she'd played the meek little mistress and stayed on the coast. How many weekends would a man want to drive this far just to go to bed with a woman? There were women living much more conveniently near San Jose.

By the time she turned off Highway 101 and found the narrow two-lane road that led toward home, Shannon thought she had come to terms with the situation.

She had made a terrible mistake the day she had first approached Garth Sheridan. In his own way he had tried to tell her that much. She had to give him credit. He hadn't exactly encouraged her in the beginning. It was as if, deep down, he knew his own emotional limitations.

But she had been so sure of herself. So sure of him. From the first she had wanted to know what made Garth tick. She had kept pushing until she had gotten past his very private, very personal barriers. Now she was paying the price for her compulsion.

The fog was rolling in lazily off the ocean as Shannon finally pulled into the safety of her own driveway. She turned off the engine and leaned wearily against the steering wheel, staring at her front door. After a moment she opened the car door and climbed stiffly out. It had been a very long drive.

The phone was ringing as she carried her suitcase and tote inside the cottage. For an instant she considered not answering it. She knew who would be on the other end of the line. On the fourth ring she reluctantly picked up the receiver.

"Hello."

Garth's voice came across the line, harsh and cold. "I just wanted to make sure you got home safely."

"You don't have to worry about me anymore, Garth. I'm a big-time industrial spy, remember? I can take care of myself."

"Damn it, Shannon, listen to me...."

She put down the receiver very softly and unplugged the phone. It was as she sat staring at her tote bag that the tears finally came. It was a relief to give in to them at last.

SHANNON GOT UP EARLY the next morning to take the first crib stencil designs to Annie O'Connor. The other woman greeted her cheerfully at the door of the comfortable, weathered old house she shared with Dan
Turcott
.

"Come on in. I just took a whole-grain coffee cake out of the oven. Want a slice?" Annie stood aside.

"Sounds great. Here are the stencil designs. See what you think."

Annie tore open the packet as she led the way into the rustic kitchen that was redolent with fresh, warm, yeasty smells. "Oh, Shannon, they're wonderful. The baby's going to love them!"

Shannon managed a small smile at the comment. "How are you feeling, Annie?"

The other woman stretched and idly massaged her lower back. "Great. I feel as if I'm finally doing what I was meant to do."

"Have babies?" Shannon grinned faintly.

"Go ahead and laugh. I'm going to make a terrific mother." Annie began cutting up the hot coffee cake.

"I believe you. I think Dan's going to make a good father, too." -

Annie carried the plates over to the table and sat down. "He's asked me to marry him, you know," she said quietly.

Shannon looked at her in astonishment. "No, I didn't know. I thought you two were determined to do this your own way."

Annie shrugged. "I was. I thought Dan was, too. But the other day he sat down at breakfast and told me he thought we should get married. You know what I think? I think it was something your friend Garth said at dinner that night. Dan is starting to talk about providing me and the baby with the protection of his name. How's that for old-fashioned gallantry?"

"I'm stunned."

"Yeah. So was I, considering the kind of books he writes," Annie admitted with a smile. "But I think I'll take him up on it."

"You're going to get married?"

Annie nodded thoughtfully. "With the baby on the way, I'm ready for the commitment. So is Dan. You'll have to be sure and bring Garth to the wedding."

Shannon took a bite of coffee cake, hardly tasting it. 'That's not very likely."

"The weekend was a disaster?"

"To put it mildly. He never wanted me to go to San Jose in the first place. I thought I'd surprise him. As it turns out, I did. Before I went he assumed I was a naive, impulsive, artsy-craftsy type who would make an ideal, uncomplicated, undemanding weekend mistress. Not real bright, but warm and willing, and he wouldn't have to worry about me causing him any real trouble."

Annie slowly poured coffee and added cream. "And now?"

"Now he thinks I'm a slick corporate spy who sells her body and her secrets to the highest bidder."

Annie stared at her friend, her eyes full of astonishment. "Quite a change in perception in one weekend," she remarked dryly. "Want to tell me about it?"

Over warm coffee cake and creamy coffee, Shannon did. When she was finished she didn't feel much better, but she knew she had reached a degree of acceptance. She went back home and back to work.

It wasn't until the next day that Shannon remembered the buyer's contract she had been holding to show to Garth. She dug it out of the tote bag where she had put it to take with her to San Jose and quickly scanned the fine print. The contract looked okay to her. Garth had been right. She didn't completely understand all the
whereases
and wherefores. No one but a lawyer would, and she didn't feel like locating a lawyer. No point waiting any longer to sign. In her present mood she didn't really care what she signed. She picked up her pen and was about to start her signature on the bottom line when she heard the Porsche in the drive.

For an instant panic assailed her. She glanced quickly around the cottage as if seeking a hiding place. The forceful knock on the door brought her to her feet.

"Damn you, Garth Sheridan," she muttered under her breath. "This is my home and I'm on my territory. I'm not going to let you terrorize me here." Angrily she walked across the room and flung open the door.

"Well?" she demanded as he stood looking down at her with brooding eyes. "Have you come to arrest me?"

"Not exactly. Invite me in, Shannon. I've come to ask you to marry me."

SHANNON WAS so NONPLUSSED that she could only stand and stare at the man on her threshold. It took a supreme effort of will to gather her senses. "If this is your idea of a joke, Garth, it borders on sick."

"You know me better than that, Shannon. I rarely make jokes, sick or otherwise. I do, however, occasionally make mistakes. Please let me inside."

"Mistakes?" she demanded sharply. In spite of her intentions, something about the expression in his eyes made her stand aside. "Garth, what are you talking about? Why have you driven all this way? Don't you have to be back in your precious
Sherilectronics
office bright and early tomorrow morning?"

He moved past her, planting himself solidly in the room. Slowly he turned to face Shannon, his eyes gentling. "Close the door, honey. We have to talk."

"I don't think I want to hear what you have to say, Garth." Reluctantly she closed the door and stood waiting, one hand still on the knob as if she were contemplating a mad dash to freedom. The notion irritated her. This was her house, Shannon reminded herself. She wasn't about to let Garth Sheridan drive her from it.

"I know you're upset, Shannon. You shouldn't have panicked and run Sunday morning. You never gave me a chance to explain."

"What was there to explain?" she challenged hotly. "You found all the evidence you needed to try and convict me. You can't blame me if I didn't hang around for the sentencing. Any self-respecting prisoner would run if she got the chance. Did you expect me to sit humbly on your living room sofa while you delivered judgment?"

"Calm down, Shannon." He walked into her kitchen and opened a cupboard door. The bottle of whiskey he had left with her was still inside. Garth poured himself a glass, his face set in hard, weary lines. "It's obvious you're still on edge. You shouldn't have gotten behind the wheel of a car Sunday morning feeling as upset as you did. It's not safe to drive when your mood is unstable."

"I can't believe this! You're standing there in my kitchen giving me safety lectures? At a time like this?"

His mouth twisted in a wry grimace as he leaned back against the counter and took a sip of the whiskey. "Force of habit. Or maybe I'm trying to figure out how to get back to the main subject."

"What is the main subject?"

"I told you. Marriage." His eyes met hers with steady intent.

She shook her head in incomprehension. "I don't understand what you're talking about, Garth."

"Sit down," he said gently. "I'll explain it to you." He came toward her, put a hand on her arm and led her back out into the living room. Very carefully he seated her on the sofa and then he took the comfortable over-stuffed chair near the fireplace. "Relax, Shannon. Please. God knows I'm tense enough for both of us."

"Then you shouldn't have gotten behind the wheel of a car and driven a couple of hundred miles."

He raised his eyebrows. "That was childish."

"I know," she agreed sadly.

"I drove two hundred miles because I had to talk you. You didn't hang around Sunday morning long enough to discuss the matter, and Sunday night you hung up on me. I got the impression you'd do it again if I called."

"Probably. I have no desire to talk to a man who thinks I'm a corporate spy."

"I don't think you're a corporate spy, Shannon."

She stared at him. "That's not the impression I got Sunday morning."

"Sunday morning I had a lot of thinking to do." Garth looked down into his whiskey. "It was a shock."

"Finding that damn proposal in my tote? Yes," she said bitterly, "I imagine it was. It was a shock to me, too. But I don't expect you to believe that."

"I believe it."

Shannon's head came around with a snap, her eyes troubled and wary. "You do?"

"I don't believe you stole that proposal, Shannon."

"But on Sunday you acted as if you'd just discovered I was Mata
Hari
."

"I couldn't figure out what was going on," he said quietly. "I wanted some answers. Instead of giving them to me, you ran."

"What did you expect me to do?"

"Given your impulsive, temperamental approach to things, I guess I should have expected you to do exactly what you did."

She gritted her teeth over the "impulsive" and "temperamental." "What conclusion did you come to on your own?"

"The obvious one. You were used."

"Used? How was I used? What are you talking about?"

"Shannon, it's pretty clear you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time." Garth sat forward, his elbows on his knees, glass held lightly in both hands as he talked intently. "I don't know what was supposed to be going on in that bedroom at the
Hutchinsons
' party, but it looks like someone was using it to pass that copy of the bid proposal to a, shall we say, interested party."

"Kenyon?"

"Who knows? The information in that bid package would have been interesting to several other people who were there that night, not just Kenyon. We may never know. Whoever was trying to make the transfer is hardly likely to come forward now and claim the document got lost."

Shannon chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip. "Let me get this straight. You're saying someone used my tote to hide the copy of the bid proposal while waiting to make his deal?"

Garth nodded. "It's a possibility. A reasonable explanation."

"And it was just my bad luck whoever it was used my tote?"

"Your bag was very distinctive. Easy to spot among a pile of purses. Easy to describe to the person who was supposed to collect the document. Shannon, this is purely speculation on my part. But it's the best I can come up with at the moment. As I said, it doesn't really matter now. The proposal got intercepted."

"Thanks to me," she couldn't resist pointing out. "Maybe you owe me something for that, Garth. Have you looked at the matter from that angle?"

Garth raised his eyebrows but didn't comment on that. "Shannon, I didn't want you getting involved with the business side of my life. I wanted to keep you clear of it." He swore in soft disgust. "But even I couldn't have guessed it would get as messy as it did the first time you showed up in San Jose."

Shannon couldn't ignore the pain in his voice. She felt her resolve weakening. "It was pure bad luck. You said it yourself. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." She hesitated and then asked cautiously, "So you drove all this way to apologize?"

"I told you why I drove all this way. I'm here to ask you to marry me."

She clasped her hands together tightly in her lap, aware that her pulse was suddenly racing. "But, Garth, why?"

"You love me," he said quietly. "You said so. We're good together, you and I. We have something unique. If we're married I'll be in a better position to take care of you. I won't have to worry so much about your impulsiveness. And I think that once we're married you'll be a lot less likely to run whenever we find ourselves confronting a problem. You'll stay and face the issue."

"What makes you so certain?" Shannon asked tightly.

He frowned, obviously sorting through his words. "Marriage will put restraints on your behavior, Shannon. You'll be more inclined to listen to me. I think you'll be a lot more likely to accept my protection."

"Protection? You're making it sound as if you're going to be my jailer, not my husband!"

He groaned. "I don't mean it that way and I think you know it. Shannon, I want to take care of you. I want to know you're following my advice. I want to keep you out of the kind of situation you got into the other night at that party."

Shannon's emotions were so jumbled that she could hardly breathe. "You think that if we're married I'm going to be more inclined to be meek and obedient?"