Kathryn Taylor

Taming The Tycoon


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have deserted her. Her startled response to their accidental contact had been no more shocking to her than to him.

      He, too, felt the seductive connection between them. And he, too, felt the need to deny it. “Anyway. If there’s anything there you don’t understand, I’d be happy to explain it to you.”

      Shannon swiped her glasses off the coffee table and slipped them on. “I have no intention of interfering in the way you run the company.”

      “That’s the problem. I don’t plan to run Westervelt Properties. Investment strategy is not my specialty. I plan to turn over the running of the company to someone more qualified in the field.”

      “Did you have someone in mind?” A spark of interest ignited her amber eyes. Or was it distrust he saw reflected?

      “It’s already taken care of.”

      “Oh.” He wasn’t sure but he thought he heard a hint of disappointment in her voice. Had she expected him to consult with her first?

      As she glanced through the pamphlets, he used the moment to study her. Sunlight filtering in from the bay window cast a fiery glow over her hair. Faded denim jeans molded the long legs she had tucked beneath her nicely rounded bottom. He recalled her uninhibited dance number and the uncomfortable reaction he’d experienced from the sight. That same tension returned. Who was he kidding? His present condition had little to do with tension and a lot to do with desire. He shifted in the seat and let out a muffled groan.

      Shannon fixed her gaze on him. “Did you say something?”

      What she did to his insides with just a look defied logic. His plan to catch her off balance and keep her there was backfiring in a big way. “Do you need anything explained?”

      “No.” She rolled her shoulders and rubbed her fingers over the back of her neck. The gesture, while seemingly innocent, was purely provocative. Her full breasts strained against the T-shirt.

      He cleared his throat. “I need Chelsea’s social security number. I can’t seem to find it in my father’s papers.”

      “Why?”

      “For business reasons. She is a partner right now. And while I remember, you’ll be receiving the monthly support checks again, so—”

      “No,” she said firmly.

      “Why?”

      “I will not be paid like some baby-sitter to care for my niece.”

      “My sister.”

      She sprang to her feet and tossed the papers onto the coffee table. “Then act like her brother, not some trustee appointed to care for her needs. You haven’t spent ten minutes with her yet. You have no idea what she needs.”

      “If you don’t mind my asking, how do you plan to support her?”

      “I’ve done just fine without you up to this point, Ian. I own the house and I pick up work on a freelance basis.” Her eyes blazed with indignation.

      “Then I don’t understand what you want from me.”

      “I don’t want anything from you. I thought we were discussing Chelsea.” She slid her hands into her pockets and leaned against the mantel surrounding a stone fireplace.

      “Don’t you think the thirty-year age difference will make it difficult for us to become friends?”

      “Friends will come and go out of her life. Family is forever and age has nothing to do with the relationship.”

      His gaze traveled slowly over her rigid frame. This family issue seemed very important to her. Given what he knew of her background, he couldn’t understand why. “You realize, of course, that being a constant influence in her life would make me a constant presence in yours.”

      “Every silver lining has a cloud,” she said dryly.

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