Page 7 of You'll Find Out
“I know that!”
Mara’s eyes met his in a clash of black and blue. Just how much did he know? She continued, a little breathlessly, “Then, of course, you understand that I’ve got a million and one things to do.”
“Name one,” he suggested laconically, and dropped himself into a chair opposite the desk. He propped his chin up with his folded hands and a slight glint of amusement touched his eyes.
Mara breathed deeply and wondered fleetingly why she was even participating in this absurd conversation. “Well, for one thing,” she began, slightly goaded but refusing to back down on her lie, “it’s almost the end of August, our busiest season. I’ve got Christmas orders that will have to be shipped, and very soon.”
“Isn’t that what the shipping department is for?” he suggested wryly.
“Everyone pitches in!”
“Including the president?” A black eyebrow cocked suspiciously.
“Including the president!” Mara’s eyes snapped for an instant before she erected the cool facade on her face that suggested total authority. She straightened her shoulders and unconsciously inched the defiant tilt of her chin upward.
“Is that the way Peter ran the company?” Before Mara could think of a suitable response, Shane continued. “And just how is it going?”
“How is what going?” she asked, trying to keep up with his twists in the conversation. The scent of familiar cologne wafted toward her, tantalizing her. Pleasant memories came thundering back, unwanted.
“The business! Now that dear old Peter is gone—by the way, my condolences—how is the business managing?” His tone was sarcastic, and once again angry fires blazed in his ebony gaze.
“Just fine!” she lied again. Why did she feel that she had to lie to him, to defend her position? The thought continued to nag at her and she vainly tried to push it aside.
“Is that so?” He looked at her skeptically as if to say “convince me.”
“Of course it is!” Mara emphasized, a trifle irritably. Just who did he think he was, waltzing into the office without an appointment, shocking the living daylights out of her, dredging up old memories, and making her feel a burning need to explain her life to him? Shane’s eyes dropped to her hands, and she realized that she was twisting the wedding ring that she still wore on her right hand. Scarlet crept up her neck as she let her fingers drop beneath the desk top and out of his line of vision. Once again, his gaze hardened.
“Well, then, if everything is going so smoothly, there’s no reason that you can’t have dinner with me, is there?”
Trapped! He had tricked her, and they both knew it. She had let him corner her all too easily. Mara breathed more deeply and tried once again to dissuade him. Her most winning smile neatly in place, she responded. “Look, Shane, just because the company is doing well doesn’t mean that there isn’t any work to be done. Quite the contrary. The busier the toy company is, the busier I am.” She stretched her palms upward in a gesture that said more clearly than words, “any fool can understand that simple logic.” “Besides which, I told you that I’m busy tonight.”
“And you can’t fit me into your busy schedule?”
“Exactly.”
Shane’s eyes seemed to darken to the color of midnight. “Then I take it you’re not interested in my proposition?”
Mara pushed her hair away from her face and looked away for a minute. What did he mean? “Proposition?” she repeated. “What proposition? I already told you that the company is not for sale!” She tried to keep the interest in her voice at a minimum. She could sense that he had another offer, and she hadn’t spent the last four years learning the business from the ground up to blow it at this point. Perhaps he was willing to invest some capital in the company, for a minority interest. In any event, she had to find out what his proposition was. Obviously, Shane Kennedy wanted something from her, and very badly. Her heart stopped at the thought that perhaps he wanted her, but she quickly banished the traitorous idea. She wasn’t a fool, and she realized that he hadn’t waited four years to pick up what he had once thrown away so ruthlessly. No, this was only business, she reminded herself, but a part of her longed for more. She would have to try and maintain her cool disinterest until she heard all of the facts.
In answer to her question he replied, “The proposition that I’m going to make to you over dinner.” His voice had deepened an octave, and Mara had to stifle an urge to let herself remember a younger time when they had shared a smile, a kiss, a caress . . .
“I thought the question of dinner was settled,” she heard herself retort.
“Not until you agree to have it with me.”
Mara was becoming exasperated. Even though the man seated across from her was devastating her senses, she knew that she had enough complications in her life at the moment and that she didn’t need to add Shane Kennedy to the list. It was he who had left her. Mara knew herself well, and she realized that she was still just as vulnerable as the day that they had said their farewells. Four years hadn’t muted her senses or her imagination; her racing pulse gave witness to that fact. Several years may have come and gone, but no man had ever touched her the way that Shane Kennedy had. No man, including Peter. Mara turned crimson at the thought, feeling guilty and apprehensive. Why was Shane back? Did he know about Angie? The thought frightened her. Why did she feel that there was more than just his interest in the toy business that had prompted Shane to return to Asheville—and to the mountains where they had first made love?
As she looked pensively over to the man that had once been her closest friend and most intimate lover, she wondered if he could read her thoughts. Could he ever realize just how desperately she had loved him and how many nights she had found herself dreaming of him? Ever since Peter’s death, Shane’s image had become more clearly defined on her tired mind. Unconsciously, she wetted her suddenly dry lips with the tip of her tongue.
Shane maintained his composure, though Mara’s unintentional provocation had bothered him. A thin smile played over his lips as he rose from the chair and took her hand in his. “Please have dinner with me, Mara,” he whispered, and at the moment he breathed her name, she knew it was useless to argue. More than anything in the world at this moment, Mrs. Mara Jane Stevens Wilcox, recently widowed wife of Peter Wilcox, wanted to spend time with the only man she had ever truly loved: the father of her child.
“All right, Shane,” she agreed, with the first sincere smile of the day. “I’d love to have dinner with you . . . and to listen to your proposal.”
“Proposition,” he corrected with a mirthless smile, and Mara found herself wondering if she had made a bitter mistake.He’s changed,she decided.He’s changed very much.
Chapter 3
The meeting with Shane had left Mara drained and bewildered. As she watched him leave her office she sat motionless; her eyes following the strong, swift strides of his straight-backed exit. He didn’t turn around.
