"Could we compromise? We'll get married next week, in Florida. We can have a small informal reception at Halford House, with your whole family and mine there. I do want my parents and my sister to be at my wedding, Garrett, and I don't know if they can make it up here on such short notice."
Garrett's mouth tightened. It was more than a compromise, it was a perfectly reasonable solution. From her point of view. But not from his. He was in full possession of all the facts; Shelby was not. She had finally been informed that he hadn't purchased the Blue Springs Resort, but she still didn't know who the buyer of Halford House was.
When she found out that it was him…
His breath hissed softly between his teeth. He'd broken some major rules by keeping her in the dark about the sale all these weeks and she was going to be furious when she learned the truth. And deservedly so, he admitted to himself.
But he intended to make sure he was married to her when she found out. As her husband, he would be in a better position to endure her wrath and weather the storm of her fury. Marriage conferred certain rights, both legal and emotional. Marriage provided ties that were necessary to sustain the bond between them during difficult times.
And telling Shelby that he'd bought Halford House and duped her into thinking otherwise, definitely qualified as a difficult time, Garrett thought grimly. He would need every right, tie and bond available to keep her with him, until she settled down and accepted the situation.
And she would accept it, he assured himself. Their marriage would thrive, despite this temporary problem. Why, they would probably even have a good laugh about the whole thing someday.
Garrett refused to let himself consider any other outcome.
"I don't want to wait until next week," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I'll arrange for Laney and your parents to fly up for the wedding. I promise you that they'll be here. If you want to honeymoon at Halford House, that's fine with me, but I want the wedding here. On Saturday."
Her old self would've immediately taken umbrage and fought tooth and nail for her case, Shelby thought. There was a part of her that still wanted to, an almost reflexive urge to go down fighting for her cause. She suspected that Garrett was much the same way—perhaps even more so because he was long used to calling all the shots while she only aspired to it.
But she was a woman in love whose lover was desperately eager to marry her. How angry could one really be in those circumstances? And though he had yet to say he loved her, Garrett's impassioned rush to the altar proved beyond a doubt how very much that he did.
A glow spread through her, warming her with joy. Garrett couldn't wait to make her his wife and he wanted to do it in the city that he considered his home. His business was here, his family was here, the two of them would be living and raising their children here.
Why shouldn't they be married here?
And if Saturday was a bit sooner than she might have chosen, well… Marriage did call for compromise, didn't it?
"Saturday," she repeated.
Adrenaline pulsed through him, as if he'd just emerged victorious from a round of intricate, uncertain and highly volatile negotiations. He supposed he had, in a way. "Saturday can't come soon enough for me, sweetheart," he said with heartfelt sincerity.
Shelby was touched. He really did love her, she was certain of that. "I love you, Garrett." She snuggled as close to him as the car's deep bucket seat and shoulder strap would allow.
She hoped he would take her cue and respond with his own pledge of love. But she wasn't too upset when he didn't. She was a firm believer in the old actions-speak-louder-than-words school of thought, and Garrett's actions—his intense determined courtship of her during the past weeks at Halford House, his urgency to marry her, and especially the way he'd shared his most poignant, personal memories with her during this afternoon's impromptu trip to the cemetery—were all the actions of a man deeply in love.
* * *
Chapter 11
« ^ »
Shelby decided that meeting the McGrath clan en masse was not unlike booking a convention into a hotel and then juggling the demands of the multitudinous delegates during their stay. She was grateful for the stamina her hotel training and experience had provided in dealing with large, raucous groups. She'd handled trial lawyers' conventions and state political party caucuses at the Casa del Marina so she felt equipped to keep up with the outspoken, opinionated McGraths.
Certainly every McGrath, including the two brothers-in-law, seemed to have an opinion on everything, which they expressed spiritedly, interrupting and correcting and arguing with each other as they wolfed down slice after slice of Luigi's deep-dish pizza. Empty pizza boxes and bottles of soda piled up in the kitchen as the youngest and smallest McGraths ran around underfoot, as animated and noisy as the adults.
Shelby observed the McGrath family dynamics with fascinated interest. Garrett was clearly in command; even old Grandmother McGrath deferred to him, if not somewhat grudgingly. After everybody had their say on the matter at hand, Garrett issued the final word, and though there might be further arguments, all seemed to concede that his word was law.
"After all, Garrett's always right," Devon relayed to Shelby while a debate raged on about whether or not to rethink the current restriction on stocking free shampoo in Family Fun Inns. Garrett had already vetoed the idea. "I'm the only one who's ever actually defied him and I did it twice. And both times my marriages blew up in my face, just like Garrett said they would. Don't think that lesson was lost on the rest of the family! Then, of course, he's never made a wrong move in the business, so that's heightened his aura of infallibility. Around here, whatever Garrett says goes."
Whatever Garrett says goes. The words resounded in Shelby's head. It called to mind the way he'd set their wedding date. It had been business as usual for him; he'd issued his decree and probably wasn't surprised in the least that she had capitulated. He hadn't expected any other outcome.
But if Garrett McGrath thought he was always going to have the final say in his marriage, he was in for a big surprise. Shelby's resolve was mixed with amusement, and she smiled contemplatively. She would enjoy teaching him that compromise was a game for two players.
"You look like the cat who just figured out how to unlatch the bird cage," Garrett murmured into her ear. He had crossed the room to stand beside her, and he draped a possessive arm around her waist. "I've been watching you," he said. "And I'd offer you a penny for your thoughts but I think you'd raise the bid to a dollar."
"You'd be right." Shelby leaned her head against his shoulder and savored the hard, warm strength of his nearness.
"You're exhausted," Garrett said solicitously. "And no wonder. I dragged you all over Niagara Falls today and then threw you into the middle of a McGrath family—"
"Gathering," Shelby finished for him.
"Very diplomatic of you, honey. I was going to say fracas."
"Not to worry, Garrett. Today didn't require half the endurance of a dark and stormy night at the Seagull Motel."
They smiled, sharing the memory.
Garrett kneaded her waist with his fingers, discreetly, yet sensuously. "If we were to spend the night there again, we'd pass the time a lot differently," he promised.
"What? No candy slam dunks and songfests? Whatever would we do for fun?"
"As if you didn't know." His blue eyes were burning into hers. He wanted to be alone with her. He'd spent the evening watching her move easily among his family. That she could hold her own with them he'd never doubted, and he had enjoyed seeing her prove him right. Not even Gran's sometimes curmudgeonly remarks threw her. Growing up with Arthur Halford's alternating disinterest or wrath, coupled with her experience at placating cranky hotel guests, was good preparation for anything a McGrath might dish out.
His body tightened with the desire she always roused in him, and always would. It had been hours since he'd held her and kissed her the way he wanted to, hours since they'd lain in bed, so passi
onately and intimately joined.
He leaned down and lightly kissed her lips. "Let's go home," he said softly.
Shelby's body tingled as her blood simmered with anticipation.
"Aha! You two are planning to sneak out!" Eilish exclaimed gleefully, almost pouncing on Shelby and Garrett as they edged their way toward the door. "Well, you can't leave just yet, Garrett. I want to discuss my proposal to install swimming pools in all the Florida Family Fun Inns. People expect pools when they vacation in Florida. It's hot and the kids want to swim and—"
"We've considered putting in pools from the inception and decided against it every time. So one more time—no pools, Eilish," Garrett said with a finality Shelby knew well. She suspected all the McGraths did, too, but Eilish wasn't about to concede defeat.
"But, Garrett, look, I've got it right here." Eilish waved a folder that she desperately tried to shove into Garrett's hands. He deftly avoided taking it.
"I've worked up a—" Eilish tried again, only to be firmly cut off by her older brother.
"With pools come liability insurance rates that skyrocket annually," Garrett said with a weary patience. "There are pool maintenance costs and lifeguards to be hired, not to mention the initial construction costs, all of which will drive up the prices of our rooms, thereby defeating the very purpose of our existence."
"But, Garrett, don't say no until you've seen how affordable my proposal—"
"No, Eilish." Garrett sounded bored.
"Garrett, at least listen to her," Grace spoke up, her McGrath blue eyes flashing. "Give her a chance to—"
"Hmm, which part of no are you two having trouble understanding?" Garrett asked dryly.
Shelby observed the exchange, picturing a much younger Garrett and his brother Glenn chortling in their room as their enraged sisters demanded admittance and were told no. Things hadn't changed much, it seemed. The girls were still being told no, and it struck Shelby as patently unfair. Eilish was both Garrett's sister and his employee. Setting aside the family relationship, it didn't hurt to at least listen to underlings before telling them no. She'd learned that old chestnut in an entry-level course in hotel management.
It suddenly seemed important that she take a stand to prove her own independence, to both herself and Garrett. He was such a strong man, it would be easy for a woman to get into the habit of deferring to him. Until it no longer occurred to her to think for herself at all.
"We'll take your proposal and look it over tonight," Shelby said firmly, taking the folder from a visibly stunned Eilish. "Won't we, Garrett?"
"No, we won't," Garrett replied pleasantly.
"Oh, yes, we will." Shelby nodded her head. She was not one of his kid sisters pounding on that locked door.
The McGrath sisters exchanged glances, then broke into laughter. "Aren't you afraid that Garrett is going to grind you into dust for daring to defy him?" Devon asked with relish.
"He just might, you know," Grace warned, her tone wryly acerbic. "And then vacuum you up with merely a shrug."
"They're only teasing, Shelby. Garrett would never do such a thing," Fiona put in loyally. "He's the most wonderful brother in the world."
They left with Eilish's folder clutched firmly in Shelby's hand. "I hope you don't mind that I insisted we take this with us," she said tentatively, her hazel eyes wary. She didn't want to argue with him, but…
"Mind? I thought it was a move worthy of the most savvy public relations agent!" Garrett enthused. "You managed to win my sisters' respect, admiration and loyalty with one small gesture. Family Fun Inns could use a PR person with your skills."
"I didn't do it to ingratiate myself with your sisters," Shelby protested. "We really are going to look over this proposal tonight. I happen to agree with Eilish—your motels in Florida ought to have swimming pools."
"Sure, we'll look at it, baby." Garrett's eyes swept over her in an unmistakably suggestive and thorough once-over. He grinned rakishly. "We'll look at it in bed, after we're too worn-out to do anything else."
"I don't think you're taking this matter with the seriousness it deserves, Garrett McGrath," Shelby said primly. She affected an expression of disapproval worthy of Miss York herself. But when Garrett made a decidedly lewd but hilarious proposition, she couldn't keep from laughing, totally eradicating her Miss York guise.
* * *
The moment they entered Garrett's condo, he picked Shelby up and headed toward the small staircase. The folder fluttered to the ground as she linked her arms around his neck. Shelby didn't worry about it. They could look at it later. Meanwhile, she was aching for Garrett's touch.
"Remember the first time I carried you?" Garrett said, his lips curving into a teasing, reminiscent smile. "You gave me a lecture designed to daunt a less persistent lover."
"But you weren't daunted," Shelby reminded him, clinging closer. "You were a very persistent lover."
"I always intend to be." He lowered his lips to hers. Shelby let out a tiny, blissful sigh and melted against him.
And then the doorbell rang. Twice, three times. "Ignore it," muttered Garrett. But when it continued to sound, and the ringing was followed by a heavy pounding, he sighed and reluctantly set Shelby on her feet.
"I guess I'd better at least see who's there," he said. "That doesn't mean I'll open the door."
But when the ringing and the pounding was accompanied by a loud, "Shelby, Shelby, open up. It's Paul. I know you're in there. I've been waiting, watching for you to come back. I have something very important to tell you."
"Paul?" Shelby was bewildered. "What on earth is Paul Whitley doing here?"
Garrett strode ahead of her and opened the door a crack. "This is a bad time, Whitley," he said, his voice cold and hard. "Call my secretary in the morning and set up a meeting with me tomorrow."
"I didn't come here to see you, I came to see Shelby and I'm going to see her now," Paul argued, shoving against the door. He was no match for Garrett's strength. If Shelby hadn't been there to intercede, Garrett would have successfully closed the door, shutting Paul Whitley out.
"Garrett, you have to let him in," she exclaimed, tugging at Garrett's arm, trying to pry loose his grip on the door. "Paul, what are you doing here? How did you find us?" Her heart contracted. Perhaps he had been sent to find them. "Is there something wrong at Halford House? My parents, Laney, are they—?"
"I had no trouble finding you," Whitley snapped. "It was certainly no secret that you'd gone to Buffalo with McGrath and when I got here, I looked up his address in the phone book."
Garrett grimaced. "Remind me to have myself unlisted in the future."
"Paul, please tell me what's going on," Shelby cried. "Do you have bad news about my family?"
"I suppose that depends on whose point of view and what's considered bad news," Paul said sardonically. "Your parents are fine and your sister is fine. Oh, Laney is particularly fine. I realize now that she's one of those women who will always come out ahead, no matter what happens to everybody else around them."
"What are you talking about, Paul? Garrett, please, move aside and let him in! If you don't, I'll go outside to talk to him."
At that threat, Garrett reluctantly allowed Paul to enter. His usually impeccable clothes were rumpled, the smooth bland features of his face twisted with emotion. And Shelby perceived that emotion to be primarily fury. "Paul, what's wrong?" Long experience with men in similar straits led her to bluntly add, "Did Laney break up with you?"
"Break up with me? Hah!" Paul's face contorted with rage. "That's a tactful way of putting it. Far more tactful than simply saying that she dumped me cold for Oliver Tate!"
"Oliver Tate?" Shelby echoed, truly shocked. "But he's years older than Laney—decades older! Why, he's old enough to be her father!"
"And much, much richer than her father," growled Paul. "She told me last night that she was flying out to Idaho with Tate. They flew out first class, the two of them and her dogs! He'd given her this mega-size emerald friendshi
p ring. Some friendship! When I think of her with him, I…I—"
"It does kind of make you sick," Shelby agreed sympathetically. "But I think we can both guess why she did it, Paul. Oliver Tate bought Halford House and Laney has always considered it home. She obviously thinks that—"
"Laney knows damn well that Tate did not buy Halford House," Paul interrupted harshly. "We found out the day you left to come here who the real buyer is." He looked accusingly at Garrett.
Garrett held his stare but said nothing.
"It's not Oliver Tate?" Shelby repeated, confused. "Then who?"
"You still haven't told her?" Whitley glowered at Garrett. "When did you plan to break the news, McGrath? After you told her you hadn't bought the Blue Springs Resort?"
"Shelby knows I didn't buy the Blue Springs," Garrett said coolly.
Shelby looked from one man to the other, a sickening dread causing a knot to swell in her chest, growing bigger and bigger until she could hardly breathe. There was only one conclusion she could draw from all of this. "You're the buyer," she gasped, staring at Garrett as if she'd never seen him before. "You bought Halford House!"
Of course! It was so obvious! Even as she comprehended the news, Shelby scorned herself for not realizing it sooner. Of course, Garrett McGrath had bought Halford House. She should have known from the ingratiating way her father had been toadying to Garrett that something unusual was in the works. And when she thought of the way Garrett had moved into cottage 101, while being allowed access to every department and all information pertaining to the resort, pieces of a puzzle she'd hardly bothered to ponder fell into illuminating place.
As if Arthur Halford would grant anyone the "privileges" he'd allegedly granted Garrett McGrath. Letting him hang around to learn, up close and personally, the high-end of the hotel/resort market! She couldn't believe her own naiveté in swallowing such a whopper of a lie. Garrett had been there because he was the owner of the place. It was his right to have his questions answered upon his command, to go wherever he pleased within the grounds, to do whatever he chose with the property. He could paint all the doors alternating colors of the crayon box if that's what he wanted. Halford House belonged to Family Fun Inns!
FAMILY FEUD Page 16