The Ties That Bind (8 page)

Ice clinked in his whiskey glass as Garth came to stand in her doorway and watch her button her blouse.

Shannon flushed a little under his intent regard. She wasn't accustomed to changing her clothes in front of a man, and the procedure was obviously going to take some getting used to before she could do it nonchalantly. Unobtrusively she turned her back to him and fumbled quickly with the buttons. "How's the bid package going?"

"It'll be ready on time." He sounded totally disinterested in the topic.

Shannon went still as she sensed him moving up behind her. When his hand came down on her shoulder, her fingers came to a halt on one of the buttons. "I see. That... that must be a relief to you. I realize it's very important."

"Is it?" He bent his head and kissed the nape of her neck.

"Well, yes. Garth, I'm interested in your work. I... I really know very little about you. I have a phone number for you in San Jose and that's about it. I don't even know your home address." She shivered slightly as his fingers stroked the curve of her shoulder just inside the blouse.

"I'll make sure you have my address before I leave on Sunday. You can send me one of your handmade cards. Don't worry, Shannon. There's plenty of time to learn all you need to know about me. And as far as my life in San Jose goes, you don't have to worry about learning very much at all. That side of things doesn't have anything to do with us."

It keeps you away from me five days a week, Shannon thought resentfully. But she forced a smile as she turned toward him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Hungry?"

"Uh-huh. Very." Deliberately he kissed her, parting her lips with his own and amusing himself for a moment by chasing her tongue.

"Then I'd better get dinner in the oven."

"It can wait."

Shannon heard the clink of the glass as he set it down on the dresser and then Garth's fingers were on the buttons she had just fastened. He undid each one and pushed the shirt off her shoulders.

"I like the fact that you don't wear a bra," he said in satisfaction as he cupped her breasts. Then he kissed her slowly again, his thumbs gliding over her nipples. "I've been thinking about you all week, honey. I can't remember a time when a woman filled my thoughts during working hours the way you do. Very distracting."

"I can't imagine anything distracting you."

"Believe me, you've got the power." He pushed her gently toward the bed.

"Garth, what about dinner?"

"What about it? We'll eat it later. Right now I've got another hunger to satisfy. It's been a long week, sweetheart."

She smiled lovingly, framing his face with her hands, "For me, too. Garth."

"I'm glad," he growled as he eased her onto the bed and came down beside her. "I want you as hungry for me as I am for you." His fingers moved over her, seeking the secrets he had uncovered last weekend and glorying in their rediscovery.

Shannon sighed softly, surrendering without further protest to the passion that was already flaring between them. Their time together was so limited, she thought fleetingly. They had to take advantage of every moment. Dinner could wait.

THE WEEKEND SLIPPED PAST all too quickly, just as Shannon had feared. On Sunday morning she stood in the kitchen making coffee while she waited for Garth to get out of the shower and wondered where the time had gone. The week ahead seemed endless. She was going to have to get used to Sundays, she told herself bracingly.

"Smells good," Garth remarked, sauntering into the kitchen and taking a whiff of the coffee. His presence seemed to dominate the cozy room, and Shannon was intensely aware of him. He was still buttoning his shirt, and his hair was damp from the shower. The scene was achingly familiar and yet still strangely alien to her.

"When do you have to leave?" she tried to ask calmly as she poured the coffee. Normally she would have made tea for herself. But Garth preferred coffee.

"I should try to get away around noon. I want to have time this evening to go over some things for my Monday morning meeting with my managers." Garth took a seat at the table and reached for a toast triangle.

"We'll have time for a walk on the beach after breakfast." Determinedly Shannon sought a cheerful comment.

"Sounds good." Garth picked up the coffee mug she set in front of him. "You know, Shannon, I've been thinking about the locks on your doors."

She looked at him in astonishment. "My locks?"

"Yeah. They're lousy. I think I'll get hold of a locksmith in Mendocino or Fort Bragg and have him come out here and secure this place a bit. I worry about you living here by yourself all week long. I'd feel more comfortable if I knew you had some decent locks in the doors and windows."

"Garth, this is a very quiet, very peaceful community. We don't have much crime here. This isn't San Jose."

"I know it isn't San Jose," he said patiently, "but I still don't like the idea of you being here alone."

"I've lived here alone for nearly two years." She was beginning to sound hostile, Shannon realized in horror. She mustn't ruin things. She only had a few more hours with Garth. "I'm sure I'll be fine without new locks."

"I'll phone someone tomorrow. I'll have him contact you and arrange a time to put in the locks."

"Garth, please, I don't need new locks."

He looked at her. "Honey, you're too naive about some of the grim facts of life. But don't worry, I'll take care of everything."

Helplessly Shannon stabbed her fork into a bowl of strawberries. She knew she was feeling resentful, but she didn't dare say anything more. Maybe it would be wise to put in new locks. The ones in place now had been here when she'd leased the cottage. Heaven only knew how long they'd been here before that.

But it wasn't the issue of whether she needed new locks that bothered her; it was the way Garth was assuming responsibility for the decision that was annoying her. He was moving more and more into her life, making decisions and offering advice even when it hadn't been requested. The problem was, Shannon realized, the arrangement was not reciprocal. Garth was involving himself in her world, but she still knew next to nothing about his.

"I'll think about the locks," Shannon offered by way of compromise.

Garth lifted his brows, his expression warmly amused. "No, you won't. I'll think about them. Just leave that sort of thing to me, honey. I'm good at handling details."

Shannon's mouth tightened, but she managed to keep quiet.

It wasn't until they were down on the beach half an hour later that she found out about the party. Shannon got the impression Garth wouldn't have mentioned it at all if she hadn't happened to bring up the subject of another Verna Montana play scheduled for the following weekend.

"She's going to do one she's written herself," Shannon explained with a laugh. "Should be fun. It's a satire on yuppies. She's using various and assorted vegetables as her characters."

"Vegetables."

Shannon grinned. "Verna sees vegetables as having very distinctive personalities."

"I suppose we should be grateful it's not going to be a musical. Singing vegetables might be more than I could handle." Garth suddenly frowned, and his hand tightened abruptly around Shannon's. "Oh, hell, I just remembered. I won't be able to come over to the coast next weekend."

Shannon's heart sank. She turned her attention to the far end of the beach. "Work?" she asked neutrally.

"In a way," Garth groaned. "Actually, it's a damn party."

"A party?"

"A business party. Usually I avoid them like the plague, but this one is being put on by a guy who's done me some favors. He and his wife throw one event a year, and this year it's scheduled for next Saturday. God knows I'd get out of it if I could. Most of my competitors and several clients will be there. I see enough of that crowd at work. I don't like having to socialize with them."

Shannon took a deep breath and said cautiously, "I could drive down to San Jose next weekend. I'm sure I could find a dress somewhere in my closet. I'll go to the party with you."

"No."

She bit her lip, slightly taken aback by the abrupt refusal. She had been expecting some resistance, but this was more like a stone wall. "I don't mind the drive, Garth."

"I don't want you getting mixed up with that side of my life, Shannon." Garth tugged her to a halt and slipped his hands under the curve of her hair. He brushed his mouth across hers and smiled faintly. "Don't look at me like that. It's for your own good, honey. You wouldn't like the kind of people who will be at that party. Believe me. I don't particularly like them myself. It's going to be strictly business."

"And you don't want me mixed up with your business."

"No. Speaking of your driving, though... " he went on thoughtfully.

Shannon stared at him, confused. "What about my driving?"

"I really think you ought to have a bigger car than that little Fiat. You'd be safer in something that puts more steel around you."

"Garth, we were discussing your plans for the weekend, not my car!"

"There's nothing left to discuss concerning the weekend. But I am going to give your Fiat some more thought."

"How can you object to my driving a sports car when you drive one yourself?" she asked, exasperated and hurt. She wanted to argue about the party, and Garth seemed determined to switch the conversation to the subject of her car.

"It's not the same thing, Shannon." Garth resumed walking. Shannon's hand enfolded in his. "The roads around here are narrow and winding. You don't use your car much but when you do I want you to be safe. How would you like a full-size Buick or Ford?"

"Are you kidding? After driving a Fiat? I'd hate it! Garth, listen to me; my car is just fine. I own it free and clear and I love it. I don't want a new car."

"If you want something foreign we can think about getting you a Mercedes. They're good, solid cars with a lot of steel in them."

Shannon wanted to scream in frustration. It took all her willpower to maintain some semblance of civility. She would not ruin these last couple of hours with her lover. "I couldn't possibly afford a Mercedes," she pointed out stiffly.

He squeezed her hand. "You don't have to worry about that end of things. I'll take care of it."

"No." It was her turn to sound rigid. "You aren't going to buy a car for me, Garth."

"Why not?"

She finally lost her temper. "Because I say so, that's why! I will not have you spending that kind of money on me, Garth Sheridan. We're not married, we're just weekend lovers. Don't you understand?"

He halted again, his hands going to her shoulders. "You're the one who doesn't understand yet, Shannon. But you will. Soon." He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but he glanced impatiently at his watch instead. "I've got to leave now. It's almost noon. I'll try to get away early on the Friday after next."

"Garth, wait, we need to talk...."

"I'll call you this evening." He turned and led her back down the beach, and Shannon could see he was already starting to plan ahead again. "Don't forget what I said about any contracts that buyer asks you to sign. Hold on to them until I've had a chance to go over them."

"Garth, I really think I can deal with the matter. I've been supporting myself with my silk-screen products for two years." Frantically Shannon tried to make herself sound reasonable and prudent, but she was aware of an abnormal edge in her voice.

"Just don't sign anything. Oh, and I'll let you know about the locksmith sometime this week."

Shannon gave up for the moment. There was no sense arguing now. Time had run out and the weekend was over. A few minutes later she stood in the driveway watching the Porsche leave once more for San Jose. She felt as if Garth were leaving for another world, not just another town. The gulf between herself and her weekend lover suddenly seemed very wide.

Frustrated and uncertain, Shannon went back inside the cottage. It was difficult to remember that she was the one who had first approached Garth. She was no longer certain of what she had started by her impulsiveness that day on the beach when she had followed him into the fog and invited him to dinner. The busy, settled routine of her life had been turned upside down, and she wasn't at all sure how to right it.

The dark, brooding quality that had compelled her to push until she learned more about him was still a part of Garth. She still didn't know what secrets it shrouded, although she was beginning to get an intuitive feel for some of them. She could hazard a guess, for instance, that once he had decided to plunge into an affair, Garth's first instincts were to keep his private life and his business life carefully separated. She wondered where he'd learned to be so wary of mixing the two.

His tendency to start making some of the major decisions in her life seemed to stem from a sense of over-protectiveness. It might just as easily be a function of his normal take-charge attitude, however. Shannon thought about that as she wandered back into her studio. The man was accustomed to running his own company. Taking charge came naturally to him. But it was more than that. The things he was concerning himself with in her life were directly related to what he saw as being important to her safety and welfare. He wanted better locks on her cottage, a safer car for her to drive and he was convinced she couldn't handle the business side of her own life.

Shannon sat down at the worktable and examined the sketches she had been making for a stencil pattern for Annie O'Connor's baby crib. She had promised Annie she'd have some of the alphabet stencils cut by Monday. She had better get busy. Shannon picked up her sketching pen and went to work. She tried not to think about the future. She would take the weekends one at a time. There wasn't much else she could do, because she knew for certain she was in love with her weekend lover.

THE BUYER from Lost and Found arrived as promised on Wednesday morning. Shannon nervously watched her get out of the car. The woman looked very San Francisco. Short, stylish hair, narrow skirt, padded-shouldered silk blouse and high heels. Very trendy and very sophisticated. All of a sudden Shannon wondered what this stylish creature saw in a bunch of handcrafted tote bags. It was very daunting. But her fears vanished almost at once as the woman exclaimed over the designs.