Shannon...”
She opened the screen door. “Just go. We’ve both said enough for today. It will only get nastier.”
She was throwing him out! He couldn’t believe it.
Perhaps he should leave. He needed distance. Something inside him responded to her Not in the obvious way, although in different circumstances, he probably would have been drawn to her cool, reserved beauty. She reached him on a different, more primitive level, bringing out the worst side of his nature. The part of him that reacted without thinking. She had the ability to disarm him and that made her a dangerous woman.
If her sister had possessed one-tenth of Shannon’s allure, he could understand how his father had lost his head. And, God help him, if he wasn’t careful, he could end up a casualty of the same fate.
Shannon watched from the front yard as Ian got in his sports car and drove away. When she turned to go back in the house, she saw Wendy sitting on her front stoop with a mischievous grin on her face.
“Now, that was a man!”
“You could have fooled me,” Shannon grumbled.
“Put on your glasses, girl. He’s gorgeous.”
“He’s also Chelsea’s brother.”
Wendy crossed the lawn and met her at the picket fence. “So that’s the mysterious Ian. No wonder you haven’t wanted to talk about him. You’re keeping him all to yourself.”
“You’re a happily married mother of three.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m dead.”
Shannon let out a puff of air. “That man isn’t interested in any kind of long-term relationships.”
“Who cares? That’s the kind of man you have fun with. You don’t have to marry him.”
“I don’t have fun with men.”
“That’s because you don’t have one like him.” Wendy sent her a sly wink. “If you’re not interested, send him over here. I’ll play house with him.”
Shannon pressed her hand to her chest and feigned shock. “You’re destroying my illusions of the demure suburban housewife.”
“I know. You thought we sat around all day watching soap operas and swapping cake recipes while you career women got to eat power lunches and live out all your carnal fantasies.”
“I never thought that you sat around all day and I certainly never lived out any of my carnal fantasies.”
Her last relationship had ended due to lack of interest. The Saturday night dinners and the obligatory Tuesday night sex had been so routine as to be boring. With hindsight, she realized that all her liaisons had been with safe, dull, predictable men. Rather than chance a passionate romance that ended in a bitter feud like her parents’, she chose to take no risks at all.
Somehow, she didn’t imagine Ian would be predictable. Intense, exciting, maybe even dangerous, but never predictable.
She couldn’t believe she was wondering about his male prowess. He didn’t have one desirable quality to attract her in the first place. Except maybe, a body to die for. An involuntary smile tugged at the corner of her mouth and a shiver danced along her spine. This train of thought would land her in the kind of trouble she had successfully avoided up until now. She shook her head and focused on her friend’s knowing smirk.
“Are you telling me that you’re not the least bit interested?” Wendy asked.
“In a relationship with Ian?”
“No. In some pure, unadulterated knock-your-socks-off sex with him.”
The hot flush crept up Shannon’s cheeks. “Is nothing sacred to you?”
“I guess that means you are. Good. You need some fun in your life.”
Shannon changed the subject. “Can you watch Chelsea tomorrow? I have to meet with a client in the city.”
“No problem.” Wendy bent down to pluck a weed from her flower bed. When she rose again, she handed Shannon a yellow daisy and asked innocently, “Doesn’t Ian live in the city? If you decide you want to spend the night, I’ll keep Chelsea...”
“Wendy. Stay out of my love life.”
“You have to have one before I can stay out of it.”
Muffling a yelp of frustration, Shannon stomped back to her house. Wendy meant well with her friendly probing, but Shannon wasn’t used to discussing her private life. Although she had loved Tiffany dearly, they hadn’t been the kind of sisters who traded confidences. They had both lived through the same trying and painful experiences but their lives had taken very different roads.
Shannon had put all her energies into a career so that she would never be dependent on the financial whims of a man. Before she’d received custody of Chelsea, the only commitment in her life had been a car loan.
Her sister, conversely, had begun a quest for a man who would keep her in style. If that man already had a wife, so much the better. When Tiffany began her affair with Wesley, she figured she had hit the mother lode. And for a while she lived very well, but as Wesley’s interest started to wane, she had made sure she had a stranglehold on his wallet in the form of Chelsea.
Perhaps Ian had a right to feel bitter and angry. It must have been a shock to learn he had a sister young enough to be his daughter. Would he eventually get beyond his misgivings and open his heart to Chelsea as family? Did he even understand the concept?
Ian drove his car up the winding driveway that led to his grandfather’s home. The large Colonial house was the only place Ian felt remotely comfortable. He had spent most of his childhood summers with his grandparents, back in the days when Wakefield, Connecticut, was still considered the country rather than an extended suburb of New York City. Despite the changes, he still enjoyed his visits.
Adam Westervelt was on the front lawn tending his prized roses. At seventy-five, his grandfather was more active and fit than many men half his age. Fate hadn’t been kind to the older man. In his lifetime Adam had buried his wife and both his children.
“Come see this, Ian.” As he stepped from the car, Adam waved him over. “The American Beauty rose. Soft, delicate and beautiful. A lot like a woman, eh?”
“Including the thorns,” Ian observed pointedly.
“You’re a cynic.”
“I’m a realist.”
“Living your life alone is not reality, boy. Sharing your life, now that’s real.”
Ian stifled a groan. He wasn’t up for another lecture on the virtues of marriage. There wasn’t much he would refuse his grandfather, but he had no inclinations toward finding himself a wife. “I’m not here to discuss me. When will you be ready to take over Westervelt Properties again?”
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do...”
“All I’m doing is returning what is rightfully yours.”
Adam tossed his gardening gloves to the ground. “The only reason I felt bitter about Wesley’s betrayal was because I wanted the company for you. It’s yours now. The circle has come full turn.”
“I have my own work and, quite honestly, investments, insurance and the like don’t interest me. The company bears your name, and you’re going to run it again.”
Adam placed his hand on Ian’s shoulder. Despite the old man’s protests, his eyes contained the first spark of excitement Ian had seen in years.
“Is your sister in agreement with this arrangement?”
“What?” Ian choked. He had not mentioned the specifics of Wesley’s will and