The Ties That Bind (5 page)

Kate laughed at him, scolded him, pretended to be in awe of him and eventually had him in the palm of her hand. When, at the end of the play,
Petruchio
bragged about Kate's wifely accomplishments, it was clearly a case of a man whose ego was so bloated that it wouldn't allow him to see that it was his wife who now ran the house and him.

There was a thunderous round of applause and a good deal of laughter as the play came to a close, and Shannon turned to grin at Garth.

"You've got to admit, Verna gave the play a distinctive touch."

"She ruined it." Garth took Shannon's arm and guided her out into the damp night. His Porsche stood amid the motley assortment of vehicles in the dusty parking lot.

"Nonsense. It was a very witty interpretation," Shannon argued. "What do you say we go have some ice cream and discuss the matter like reasonable people?"

"Ice cream?"

"There's an ice-cream shop across the street from the grocery store. On play nights it stays open late to catch the after-theater crowd."

"One would never have guessed you were so cosmopolitan out here in the sticks," Garth remarked dryly as he slid the sleek car out onto the road behind a row of other vehicles. "Okay, ice cream it is. But I'm not sure we'll be able to discuss the play in a reasonable fashion. There was nothing reasonable about that production. Shakespeare is probably turning over in his grave."

"Verna did a fascinating job of updating the characters! There, you can park in front of the grocery store. I see a space."

Garth obediently pulled the Porsche into the slot and followed Shannon into the ice-cream parlor, where a number of other people were gathering to eat chocolate sundaes and analyze Verna Montana's unique version of The Taming of the Shrew. It was a good-natured crowd of laid-back people who took great pleasure in their small-town life-style and their artistic endeavors. Several people greeted Shannon as she walked into the room. She responded with a cheerful wave and zeroed in on a small vacant table near the center of the busy parlor.

"I'll hold the table and chairs. You go get the orders," she told Garth. "I'll have a double scoop of vanilla ice cream, double fudge sauce, nuts and double whipped cream."

"You have a hearty appetite, woman. I can see you're going to be expensive to feed." He left her to stand in the line of ice-cream purchasers.

Shannon grinned as she watched him standing there and wondered how long it had been since Garth had waited in line to order ice-cream sundaes. He glanced across the room, saw the laughter in her eyes and grinned back. The slashing expression of amusement had a pirate's ruthlessness behind it, but it was a genuine smile. It was one of the few times that she had seen real laughter in his face. Shannon faced the fact that she loved seeing him smile. Every time she coaxed one out of him she felt as if she had uncovered buried treasure.

He returned to the table a few minutes later carefully balancing two magnificent fudge sundaes. The room was alive with the spirited voices of people arguing about the play.

"Now about the abomination we just witnessed," Garth began as he dug into his ice cream. "Your friend Verna has a lot to answer for. I'll admit I haven't seen The Taming of the Shrew in several years, but I do remember
Petruchio
didn't come off looking like a clown."

"He does in Verna's production," Shannon declared triumphantly. "And about time, too. The way Kate handles
Petruchio
in this version, it's clear that she was the one in charge right from the beginning. I don't know why I haven't ever seen that potential in the play."

"You haven't seen it in the play because Shakespeare never put it in to begin with," Garth argued. "Kate is supposed to be spirited, but she's not supposed to be a conniving manipulator."

Shannon leaned forward aggressively and aimed her long ice-cream spoon accusingly at Garth. "Verna made several excellent points tonight, not the least of which is that men usually don't even know when they're being manipulated by a woman. Their egos are usually so inflated they assume they're always the one in charge."

"Shannon, you don't know what you're talking about."

"Ha!" Her chin lifted defiantly, her eyes sparkling with the light of battle. "It a smart woman like Kate plays her cards right, she can manipulate her
Petruchio
for the rest of his life and he'll never even know what happened."

"I promise you I wouldn't be that stupid."

"That's what they all say," Shannon informed him jubilantly. The ice-cream spoon moved in an arc to indicate the entire world of males.

"Shannon..."

"I'll bet every man alive secretly thinks he's the dominant partner in a relationship. I don't care how liberated he is, his ego is still functioning in the Dark Ages. That's another point Verna made beautifully tonight."

"Shannon, you're getting carried away." Garth eyed the waving ice-cream spoon.

"Verna's production brings home the fact that men haven't really changed much since Shakespeare's time. Putting the characters in modern dress emphasizes that, don't you think? It was a brilliant idea."

"I think," Garth said carefully, "that you'd better quiet down and eat your ice cream before you get us thrown out of here."

"They don't have bouncers in ice-cream parlors," she told him loftily. "Now, another point Verna made tonight was one about
Petruchio's
real reason for marriage. He was a mercenary, greedy man who got what he deserved. As far as I'm concerned, he-"

"Shannon."

"He had it coming. What's more, thanks to Verna's version of the story, I now see that the character of Kate represents all the basic female strengths. She-"

Shannon got no further. Garth surged to his feet, planted two large hands on her shoulders, leaned down and kissed her heavily on the mouth. The flow of fiery argument was sealed forever in Shannon's throat. She was as startled by the leashed hunger in the kiss as she was by the outrageous action itself. In that moment everything changed between them. An invisible barrier had been crossed, and nothing would ever be quite the same. Her eyes opened wide in silent, stunned astonishment.

There was a wave of laughter and applause from the other patrons of the ice-cream parlor as Garth slowly lifted his head and stood looking into Shannon's wide hazel eyes.

"
Attaboy
,
Petruchio
," someone yelled good-naturedly from across the room. "Show her who's boss."

Shannon didn't move as Garth sat down again and picked up his spoon.

"Eat your ice cream, Shannon," Garth advised gently.

Without a word Shannon stabbed her spoon back into the fudge sundae

THE SHORT DRIVE BACK to the cottages from the ice-cream parlor was made in absolute silence. For the first time since she had met Garth, Shannon couldn't think of anything to say. It was an odd sensation, as if something very delicate and fragile was taking shape and she dared not shatter it before it had completely formed. She was grateful for the damp, foggy darkness that shielded her face as Garth parked the car in front of his cottage, got out and opened her door.

Shannon realized she was holding her breath as he led her around the hood of the Porsche. She started breathing again when Garth guided her past his own front door and across the short distance to hers. She didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. What she actually felt was a little light-headed. They came to a halt on her front step, and Garth fitted her key into the lock. When the door swung open he looked down at her, studying her face in the dim front-door light. His hand lifted to touch her hair, and then he raised his other hand and wrapped his fingers warmly around the nape of her neck, cradling her head as he lowered his mouth to hers.

Shannon murmured something soft and undefined, but the faint words were sealed behind her lips as she felt once again the heavy, leashed hunger in him. She had not imagined it earlier this evening when he had taken her by surprise in the ice-cream parlor. There was a driving desire burning deep inside this man, and tonight she was the focus of it.

"Shannon, please invite me in." He spoke against her mouth.

"For brandy?" Her voice was a tremulous whisper. She was vividly aware of the warmth of his fingers on her skin.

"No, not for brandy. For bed."

He found her mouth again with his own and under the persuasive, relentless pressure. Shannon's lips parted. Garth groaned thickly as he deepened the kiss. His hands slid slowly down Shannon's back, urging her more closely against him. Shannon wasn't even aware of the way she had already slipped her arms around his neck. She could feel the warmth and the strength in him and nothing had ever felt so right.

"Shannon?"

He wasn't coming inside the cottage without an invitation tonight, she realized. It would be simple enough to refuse him. He wouldn't fight her decision. Perhaps it was symbolic. She had been the one to issue all the invitations so far in this relationship. Perhaps Garth wanted her to issue this one, too. The knowledge should have given her a small sense of feminine power. It might have if Shannon hadn't been so deeply aware of her own desire and need. She tilted her head back against his arm and looked up at him.

"I wouldn't want you to feel under any sense of, uh, social obligation," she said.

"Don't tease me, Shannon. Not tonight. Even if I deserve it." His voice was husky. "Just tell me I can come inside and make love to you."

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "Come inside and make love to me. Garth," she whispered.

His arms tightened around her, and she felt the relief and masculine anticipation leaping through him. Then Garth was leading her inside the cottage, closing the front door and locking it. She heard him play with the loose lock for a moment.

"This thing must have been installed forty years ago. You should get something more secure put in."

Shannon felt a kind of gentle amusement at the thought that he could notice something as mundane as her door lock after having kissed her with such passion. "I'll think about it," she promised softly, instantly forgetting the whole matter as he pulled her closer.

Garth didn't reach out to turn on the hall light. In the darkness he kissed her again, his mouth heavy and warm and lingering.

"I've wanted you since that first day but I made such a mess of things that night after your dinner party. I've regretted it ever since."

She silenced him by standing on her tiptoes and brushing a feather-light kiss against his lips. "It's all right, Garth."

"I want to explain."

"Later. You don't have to explain now."

He shuddered heavily, gathering her into his arms. "I'll make this good, sweetheart. I promise."

Her mouth curved faintly in a soft smile. "I told you, I don't want you to feel any sense of social obligation."

"You're a tease," he growled, pushing aside a sweep of dark hair to kiss the delicate place behind her ear. "I wonder why I didn't realize that before."

"You're still getting to know me."

"True. But by tomorrow morning, I'll know most of your secrets."

"Will you?"

"I'll make it a priority. You're trembling," he observed, running his palms down to her hips and back up to her shoulder. "Are you nervous, honey?"

"Yes," she said honestly.

"Don't be," he ordered softly. "This is right. I can feel it."

"I know." She was as certain of it as he seemed to be.

Garth brought his mouth back down on hers, lifted her into his arms and started down the short hall. When he came to a halt beside the first door, Shannon shook her head against his shoulder.

"No," she whispered. "Not that one. That's my studio. The next one."

He tightened his grip on her and walked through the next door into her bedroom. Shannon's bed stood waiting in the shadows, its silk-screened quilt and huge pillows beckoning invitingly. Garth stood Shannon on her feet and smiled down at her. In the darkness she could see the desire that was flaring in his eyes and the sensual tension that edged his smile.

"When you look at me like that," he said, "I feel as if I'll come apart if I don't get you into bed."

She leaned against him, aware of a melting feeling that made it difficult for her to stand. "I didn't know," she managed.

"Until I kissed you tonight in the ice-cream parlor?"

She nodded. "I didn't realize until then that you wanted me."

"I want you. Shannon," he told her softly. His fingers went to the buttons of the turquoise silk blouse she wore with her jeans that evening. Deliberately he slipped each one open until the garment came completely undone.

Slowly Garth pushed the silk from her shoulders, his fingers sliding up under the hem of the camisole she had put on underneath the blouse. Shannon felt his thumbs gliding over the tips of her breasts as the undergarment was lifted over her head. Then she was naked to the waist and achingly conscious of his pleasure in her nudity. Garth cupped one small, gently rounded breast in his hand.

"So soft and delicate," he said wonderingly. "And so sleek and sexy."

Shannon gave a husky, nervous little laugh and pressed herself against him, burying her face in his shirt. "I'm very glad you're not hung up on the Playboy centerfold type."

"I'm hung up on the real and genuine type. The honest type. There aren't many of them around. But you're one of them, aren't you. Shannon?"

She lifted her head, sensing the dark shades of meaning behind the words but uncertain of exactly what he was trying to say. It was important that she understand, she realized. Somewhere in his comment lay a key she needed to fully comprehend this man. There was so much she didn't know about him yet.

But tonight was not a night for asking questions. The passionate urgency flowing between herself and Garth was the dominant force at the moment. He wanted her and she knew, even though she hadn't realized it at first, that she wanted him. Instead of trying to answer his odd question, she lifted her palms to his shoulders and turned her lips to the strong column of his throat.