FAMILY FEUD

by Barbara Boswell

  He found the folder where she'd dropped it, in front of the cottage. His eyes drifted to the congealing remains of the Halford House Goddesses surrounded by the shattered glasses. Laney obviously hadn't called for a cleaning crew. She took direction about as well as she took rejection, he thought dryly. Which was not well at all.

  Back inside, Shelby slipped her arms around his waist from behind and snuggled against him. "I hope your ego isn't too bruised from hearing that it was my father's orders and not your irresistible appeal that brought me over here today." Her hands slipped provocatively inside the waistband of his swim trunks.

  "Yeah, but it was your overwhelming attraction to me that made you take off your dress-for-success suit of armor and your orthopedic panty hose before you came over. When you showed up in that sexy little dress with your legs bare, I knew that—"

  "I can see that your ego is fully intact. No worries along that score." She traced the whorl of his navel with her thumb. "Aren't you going to read what's in the folder?"

  "Believe me, baby, I couldn't care less. Let's just forget about the stupid folder and go back to bed." He turned, reaching for her, but she artfully eluded his grasp.

  "Business before pleasure. Work before play," Shelby teased. Grinning, she snatched the folder from his hands and opened it. There were several color brochures describing Halford House and listing the reasons why the discerning vacationer would choose to stay there.

  "This is it?" She stared at them in confusion. "But they're just promotional material. Why would Dad insist that I bring these over to you immediately and stay until you'd read them?"

  "Honey, I have no idea why your father does the things he does. The man is an enigma to me."

  "Unless…" Shelby stared at Garrett, her hazel eyes wide with wonder. "Do you suppose Dad was matchmaking? That he wanted us to get together and deliberately sent me over here to you, knowing—or at least hoping—that when we saw each other we would—"

  "Art Halford as cupid," Garrett cut in. "What a concept."

  "What a concept," Shelby echoed softly. Had her father noticed the attraction between her and Garrett and decided to give her fledgling romance a helping hand? It was a most un-Arthur-Halford-like thing to do. She couldn't remember her father ever being interested in her personal life, certainly he'd never involved himself in it.

  She thought of his outburst when she had initially refused to bring the folder to Garrett. No wonder he had exploded. He had been trying to help her and had become understandably frustrated when she'd tried to thwart him.

  Shelby looked at Garrett, her eyes glowing with warmth and love. Thanks to Arthur Halford's well-intentioned scheme, she was with the man she loved instead of sitting home alone, trying to fight her own feelings. Vaguely, she recalled that those feelings were based on something very real—the fear that Garrett McGrath intended to have a short-term affair with her before heading on his merry way.

  But those fears didn't seem as threatening now. Not after what she and Garrett had shared. Shelby draped her arms around his neck and went up on tiptoe to nuzzle his neck. A burst of joyous feminine confidence flowed through her at his instant response.

  It wasn't going to be so easy for him to walk away from her. She would see to that.

  * * *

  Chapter 9

  « ^ »

  Shelby and Garrett were together constantly, spending nearly every waking moment with each other—and their nonwaking moments, too. It was remarkably easy to tell her parents that she'd decided to take a broom-closet-size room in the hotel, to be in the center of the action, rather than stay at home. They asked no questions, making it clear that where she spent her nights was of no concern to them.

  And Shelby chose to spend her nights in cottage 101 with Garrett, making love into the late hours then falling asleep, her body tucked into his, his strong arms wrapped possessively around her.

  Garrett made a few day trips to Buffalo for business reasons, always returning in the evening to a passionate reunion with Shelby. And then, one afternoon he called from New York to tell her that an emergency had arisen, requiring him to spend the night in the city.

  She well understood business emergencies, of course, but her body couldn't seem to adjust to the sudden lack of Garrett's attentions, of the sensual satisfaction she'd come to crave. She lay in the bed they'd shared, tossing and turning restlessly, tensions building within her. Even after she'd finally managed to fall asleep, she missed the presence of his warm, solid body beside her.

  The emergency extended to another day, and Shelby decided to make use of the broom-closet-like room in the hotel that night. She might sleep better there, a place where there were no memories of him, of the two of them together.

  But it seemed she was doomed to another fitful night. A change of location did nothing to ease the ache of Garrett's absence.

  She awoke at dawn to hear an odd, rattling sound. By the time her foggy brain discerned that it was the sound of the old-fashioned lock on the door being turned, the door was opened. Garrett stood on the threshold.

  Shelby blinked, wondering if she was dreaming. "Garrett?" she mumbled drowsily.

  "None other, sweetheart." His voice was a husky rasp that sent sensuous shivers tingling along her spine. He crossed the room in brisk strides, pulling off his jacket, his shirt, his tie.

  Shelby was wide-awake now, alert and on fire with need. She knelt up on the bed and reached for him.

  His mouth was on hers, his hands grasping her body. Shelby responded with an ardent hunger of her own. She hadn't known it was possible to miss someone so desperately. But length of time had nothing to do with it. Her need for him existed in a place where there were no such concepts as space and time.

  Garrett kissed her mouth, her neck, then slid the elasticized peasant-style neckline of her floral-print nightgown over her shoulders to kiss their white softness. Shelby clung to him, moaning.

  One of his big hands was inside her nightgown, cupping her breast, the other delved beneath the hem, between her legs.

  They lay down on the bed together, tugging at their remaining clothes, tossing them aside. Their kisses were deep and fierce, their caresses intimate and urgent. They'd spent many hours learning to please each other, and their erotic expertise stoked the fires burning hotly within them.

  "You're ready for me, precious?" Garrett murmured deeply. It was both a question and a command.

  Shelby gave him a sultry, sexy smile. "I was ready for you the moment I saw you standing in the door."

  "I was ready for you before I even got to the door," Garrett countered, enjoying their small game of one-upmanship. "That's why I made the staff work till nearly midnight to tie up the loose ends and then hopped a plane down here. I couldn't be away from you for another night."

  Shelby thought it the most romantic declaration she'd ever heard. "Oh, Garrett, I hated being away from you, too," she confessed on a sigh.

  "I'm here now," he said, his eyes glittering with a passion that thrilled her.

  She opened herself to him, and he surged inside her. She was hot creamy softness, tightly sheathing him, and they both groaned with pleasure.

  They moved together in a primal, sensual rhythm, and the shimmering tension built and grew and exploded into a fire storm of rapture. The sweet flames engulfed than, sweeping them both to a simultaneous, tumultuous climax.

  There was time for a tender, lingering kiss before both fell into a deep and satisfied sleep.

  * * *

  Garrett had promised to shake up Shelby's usual routine, and he did. He was innately curious about his surroundings and the two of them took a number of excursions to various attractions in the south Florida area.

  They saw everything from the wealthy glamour of Palm Beach to the alligators in the swamps of the Everglades National Park. Garrett inevitably dragged her into his beloved tourist traps—not even Palm Beach was immune to cheap souvenirs!—to purchase junk that she simply had to ridicule. But it was done
with humor and affection. Even their sparring these days was all in good fun.

  They made unscheduled visits to those Family Fun Inns that were within a day's driving distance, where the full-occupancy rate at each motel continued to astound Shelby. She remembered to ask whether the rooms with green doors were always the last to be rented, wowing the local managers with her insider's knowledge, and bringing a private smile to Garrett's lips. She began to feel a proprietary pride in the company as they checked out the renowned playgrounds and made sure that the "three C's of Family Fun"—cleanliness, courtesy, and cheap room rates—were being upheld.

  When they weren't traveling for business or pleasure, they discharged their excess energy by running or swimming together in the pool or in the ocean. They played tennis and rented boats to sail. They danced and they made love, sometimes hot and hard and fast, sometimes with languid, lingering leisure.

  Shelby hardly noticed how little time she was spending on Halford House concerns. Garrett was busy for periods each day conducting Family Fun Inn business but, as her father had yet to give her any job-related responsibilities, Shelby's career was temporarily on hold.

  As was Paul Whitley's. Though Paul had been assigned a few minor tasks, he had no actual title or job description, either. He was seen constantly in Laney's company, and Shelby sometimes wondered where their romance would lead. Had her sister finally fallen in love? There had always been men in love with Laney, although it had never been reciprocal on her part.

  But Shelby was too happy to worry about anything these days, not Halford House or her career, not Paul or Laney or the prospect of displeasing her father. Not even the threat of Garrett's eventual departure disturbed her because it had ceased to be a threat. She felt confident, she felt secure and sensual and free. Her life was engrossing and satisfying, with no time for edginess, anxiety or recriminations.

  * * *

  One sunny October afternoon, Shelby swung idly on the wooden glider in the gazebo, surrounded by lush tropical flowers and greenery, conjuring up memories of the previous night's passionate scene with Garrett. The visual images evoked tactile sensations and she felt her body grow warm and flushed and aroused. She wanted him. The desire was a pang so strong, she had to catch her breath.

  How long until she saw him again? Shelby glanced at her watch. He'd told her he had some business to conduct and they had parted after lunch: Garrett to his cottage and the vital phone and facsimile connections to his company and she to wander through the gardens. She hadn't even bothered to ask her father if there were any hotel-related projects for her to do, for she knew he would fob her off with an "ask Garrett what he wants you to do."

  The lack of structure and unprecedented amount of free time would have previously driven her into a maelstrom of impatience and anxiety. Not now. She could wile away hours reminiscing about her times with Garrett, contemplating what he said and did, what he looked like while he was saying and doing it. And there was always the delicious anticipation of their next encounter to further fuel her daydreams.

  When she saw Laney and Paul approach her, she tensed. Laney would undoubtedly want to indulge in some of her verbal target practice but Shelby was not in a contentious mood. Far from it. She was feeling content and benevolent toward the world, and that included her sister. And she was thoroughly enjoying her sweet reverie. If she couldn't be alone with Garrett, she wanted to be alone with her thoughts of him. Making conversation with anybody was an unwelcome distraction.

  "Shelby, have you heard the news?" Laney burst out. Her dark eyes were slitted and stormy, her mouth twisted into a scowl. Still, she looked beautiful enough to cause heads to turn and jaws to gape.

  Shelby remembered the times when the sight of her sister's incomparable beauty had filled her with a great sense of her own inadequacies. She smiled softly. Not anymore. Garrett's attention and admiration had given her a confidence in herself that she'd never possessed before.

  "What news is that, Laney?" she asked.

  "The news that is going to wipe that silly smile right off your face," Laney snapped. The vindictive edge in her voice indicated that she'd enjoy seeing it happen.

  Shelby sighed. "What's wrong, Laney?" Her dreamy smile was already gone.

  "Shelby, you must try to stay calm," Paul said, pausing to inhale deeply. He seemed to be bracing himself. "We saw Oliver Tate with your father. You've probably heard of Tate. He owns the Wild Waters Resort in Idaho and two other exclusive resorts in the Southwest."

  "I know who Oliver Tate is," Shelby said impatiently. Who in the industry didn't know of the wealthy hotelier? "What about him?"

  "Daddy has sold Halford Rouse to him!" Laney announced, her voice rising.

  For a moment, Shelby didn't react at all. Though she'd heard the words, she couldn't seem to assimilate them. She rose slowly to her feet, her stomach lurching queerly, as if she'd been kicked in the gut. "Laney, that can't be true. You must've misinterpreted what—"

  "I didn't misinterpret anything," Laney countered bitterly. "I asked Mr. Tate straight-out if he'd bought Halford House and that wicked old coot just laughed and said yes." She broke a flower from its stem, viciously ripping away the petals and scattering them to the ground.

  "I've been hearing rumors for the past week or so that Halford House has been sold, only the buyer remained a secret." Paul's voice matched his somber expression. "When Oliver Tate showed up and headed straight for your father's office, I put one and one together. Then Laney confronted him about it and—"

  "Rumors? What rumors?" Shelby cried bewilderedly. "I haven't heard a single rumor. I—"

  "That's because you've been spending all your time chasing after Garrett McGrath," Laney said acidly. "The rumors have been running rampant. I'm sure your dear Mr. McGrath heard them himself."

  "Garrett never mentioned any rumors," Shelby whispered. Halford House sold? No, it couldn't be true, her mind cried out in denial. Halford House was home, her past, present and future all bound up into one. She'd had to leave it to study and to work, to become worthy of it. And when she'd returned she had envisioned staying forever.

  And now Laney and Paul were telling her that forever was right now. "If … if Garrett knew—" she began.

  "Of course, he knew. If he didn't tell you, it's probably because he knew it would distract you and he didn't want anything to interfere with his campaign to get you into bed." Laney tossed her head and her thick, dark hair cascaded dramatically around her shoulders. "His very successful campaign, I might add. Everybody knows about your affair with Garrett McGrath, Shelby. You've hardly been discreet, the way you're always hanging on him and mooning over him like a love-struck adolescent." Laney's tone was particularly venomous. She had obviously taken Garrett's preference for Shelby as a personal insult.

  "Shelby, the sale of Halford House makes my position here extremely uncertain, to say the least," Paul said worriedly. "Even though your father made no commitments to me, I assumed that when you took over—" He broke off and continued on a more accusatory note. "I gave up a promising career at Casa del Marina to come here based on your word that there would be a job for me, an executive position in management, but with Oliver Tate as owner of Halford House, the situation changes completely."

  "If it's true, everything changes for me, too, Paul," Shelby reminded him. She forced herself to keep her composure and her temper under control. Going emotionally ballistic would serve no useful purpose. "But I can't believe that Dad would sell the place without a single word to any of us. No matter what rumors you heard or what Oliver Tate said—"

  "Why, here's Garrett now," Laney cried shrilly. "We can ask him exactly what he does or doesn't know."

  All heads turned to see Garrett approaching the gazebo, his stride brisk and purposeful as always. Shelby's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him and she felt an odd relief trickle through her. Just seeing him made her spirits soar and infused her with optimism.

  Impulsively, she rushed to meet him. She definit
ely was not being discreet, Shelby thought wryly. Laney had called that one right.

  However, Garrett seemed delighted with her lack of proper restraint. "I've been tracking you down for the past half hour," he said warmly, snatching both her hands and drawing her to him. "Finally, someone remembered seeing you head out here."

  Shelby lifted her face and gazed into his deep blue eyes. It would've been natural for them to kiss hello, but the presence of Laney and Paul, plus the shocking news bulletin restrained her. "We, uh, have company," she murmured, inclining her head toward the gazebo where Laney and Paul stood, glaring.

  Garrett was not pleased to see them, either. "I'll tell them that we're due somewhere right now and we can make a fast getaway."

  "We need to talk to them, Garrett," Shelby said urgently. "They've heard this rumor…"

  Her voice trailed off and she swallowed hard around the lump that suddenly blocked her throat. Let Laney tell him, she couldn't. A rush of tears filled her eyes and she quickly blinked them away.

  Garrett gazed down at her in concern. "Sweetheart, what's the matter?"

  She didn't have a chance to reply. Laney and Paul bore down on them with the force of a runaway train.

  "Garrett, did you know that Daddy sold Halford House to Oliver Tate?" Laney demanded, her dark eyes glowing with malicious rage.

  Garrett stood still, looking from Shelby to Laney to Paul. He took it all in—Shelby's pain and confusion, Laney's vengeful fury, Paul's worried self-concern. He'd been in tight situations before, where negotiations hinged on maintaining the correct expression and producing the right words, and normally he thrived on the challenge and its accompanying adrenaline rush. But not this time. The stakes were way too high and far too personal. He could lose Shelby forever if he mishandled the crisis.

  Garrett immediately rejected that possibility. His eyes narrowed with a determination known to anyone who'd ever dealt with him on an adversarial basis. He'd garnered a reputation for ruthlessness when it came to getting what he wanted professionally and he saw no reason not to extend that talent to his personal life as well. He would do whatever it took to keep Shelby.