Family Feud

“Why do you ask?” she cut in sharply.

“I’m curious as to why you decided to return to Port Key and Halford House after living so far away for ten years. Your father claimed he didn’t know the reason, either, that you suddenly announced you were on your way back here.”

“My reasons for returning are personal and none of your business, Mr. McGrath,” Shelby said stiffly. She turned away from him, taking a path into the lush tropical gardens.

“If you make it a mystery, you’ll only encourage me not to give up until I know everything,” warned Garrett, right at her heels. “There’s nothing I like better than a challenge.”

“And all along I thought your favorite thing was slapping up dirt-cheap motels where they aren’t wanted.”

“It’s not the dirt-cheap motels snobs like you object to, it’s the people who stay in them. You don’t want working-class people, the lower and middle classes, anywhere around you.” Garrett moved closer and caught her wrist, bringing her to an abrupt halt. His blue eyes were glittering. “We do get some upper middle-class folks who want a good bargain and don’t care about status, but status and flashing big bucks are all you spoiled little rich girls and your cohorts care about. That and the thrill of excluding everyone who doesn’t meet with your rigid class standards of approval.”

“I’m not a snob!” Shelby protested. “And I’m certainly not spoiled. My parents paid for my education but they never showered me with presents or made me feel like I was better than anyone else.”

On the contrary, she usually felt she wasn’t as good. She flinched at the painful insight and pushed it away to resume her defense. “I’m twenty-seven years old and I’ve had to work hard to achieve everything I’ve accomplished from...” Her voice trailed off. “I don’t have to defend myself to you.”

“True,” agreed Garrett. “Although you seem to feel the need, don’t you?”

He had a point and she could think of no suitable reply. After all, why should she care what Garrett McGrath thought of her? If he wanted to believe she was an elitist snob, it shouldn’t matter to her at all.

His hand was still clamped around her wrist and Shelby jerked it free. She didn’t say another word as she led him through the gardens to the secluded grove where cottage 101 was artfully landscaped with an assortment of riotously colored flowers, bushes and shrubs. “Here’s the cottage, here’s your key.” She shoved it into his hand. “Goodbye, Mr. McGrath.”

“Not goodbye,” he countered. “According to your dear old dad’s explicit orders, you’re supposed to be at my disposal until I meet him for lunch.”

Shelby took a deep breath. “Mr. McGrath, you don’t like me any more than I like you. We’re incompatible, and you can’t possibly want to prolong the misery. Besides, you have phone calls to make. You said so in my father’s office.”

“I lied,” Garrett said bluntly. “I was getting bored listening to your father sucking up to me. And call me Garrett, because I refuse to call you Miss Halford, even though Miss York read me the riot act on proper terms of address here at Halford House.”

He inserted the key into the lock and pushed open the door. “And who says I don’t like you? I’m quite selective in choosing my enemies and I don’t know you well enough to consider you one.” He stepped inside the cottage. “Come on in,” he ordered, motioning her to follow him.

Shelby stood in the doorway and watched him prowl around the room like a restless tiger moving in on new territory. The living room was spacious and luxurious, a sunny, airy room with white wicker furniture, the color scheme Halford green and complementing shades of yellow and peach.

Garrett disappeared down a small hallway that Shelby knew led to the kitchen, bathroom and bedroom. Another turn to the right led to the larger master bedroom suite. Her mouth felt oddly dry and she remained in the doorway, her fists clenched tightly at her sides.

“Help yourself to something in the refrigerator, I’m sure it’s fully stocked,” Garrett called from the back of the cottage. “And close the door. You’re air-conditioning the state of Florida and wasting electricity.”

Leave, Shelby advised herself. Turn around and march out right now. She almost did it. But instead she stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She really had no choice. Garrett McGrath was unpredictable; he might simply go about his business after she’d left or he might call her father and report her defection.

And her father was a man capable of great wrath when things were not to his liking. Shelby was quite aware of that because much of what she did was not to his liking. But could pleasing Garrett McGrath possibly be to his liking? Shelby sat gingerly on the edge of the flowered chintz sofa and pondered that astonishing concept. Why was her father trying to ingratiate himself with Garrett McGrath?

She couldn’t buy her father’s fulsome declarations of respect and admiration for the man. Though she’d been living away from Arthur Halford since the age of seventeen, they’d maintained telephone contact and the occasional visit. She still knew her father well enough to know that he considered low-end, fast money-makers like Garrett McGrath the bane of the hotel industry.

“Ready?”

She was lost in thought and gave a startled gasp at the sound of Garrett’s voice. He was standing beside the arm of the sofa, towering above her. Shelby jumped to her feet and moved a safe distance away from him. He had changed into dark blue running shorts and a white cotton tank top similar to her own.

Shelby stole a sidelong, furtive glance at him. His legs were long and muscular and covered with dark, wiry hair. The tight shirt showcased his broad chest and shoulders and his hard, muscled arms. Her gaze slid up to his face, taking in his strong jaw and disturbingly sensuous mouth. Their eyes met, and for one long moment Shelby gazed into their dark, deep blue depths. She felt the frisson of sensual electricity surge between them and immediately turned away.

“You’re going to work out? We have an excellent exercise spa, all sorts of state-of-the-art workout equipment, a sauna, and a masseur.” She paused to breathe. She couldn’t seem to stop talking. “We also boast a fully—”

“I’m going to run on the beach. And since you’re under paternal command to stick to me like superglue, so are you.”

Shelby heaved a martyred sigh.

Garrett laughed. “Don’t even try to pretend this is some big sacrifice for you. You were on your way to run when your daddy summoned you to his royal headquarters.”

“How do you know what I was going to do?” Shelby challenged. “Are you now claiming to be psychic?”

“Just observant. I can tell by the way you’re dressed. You seem like the type who would make a point of dressing correctly for whatever you’re doing and wherever you’re going. So if you were going to play tennis, you’d be wearing tennis whites. If you were going to the exercise spa, you’d be in a bright spandex leotard and tights. If you were golfing, you’d—”

“All right, I get your point! I was planning to run on the beach,” she admitted crossly. “I try to run every morning, although this is later than usual for me.”

“Because your father gave you the morning off,” concluded Garrett. “Until he rescinded it and stuck you with me.”

Shelby shot him an exasperated glance. “Precisely.”

* * *

They jogged in silence along the wide white span of sandy beach, side by side, keeping a steady pace. There were a few bathers sunning themselves on Halford House canvas beach chairs. A lifeguard was on duty in a wooden kiosk but there were no swimmers in the ocean.

“I can tell you run every day,” Garrett said at last.

“How?” Shelby asked dryly. “By my impeccably correct attire?” She was sorry to break the silence that had grown almost companionable as they headed around a curve, out of sight of the Halford House facilities. A long expanse of deserted beach stretched before them.

“You’re not winded and you’re doing a nice job of keeping up with me,” stated Garrett.

“That’s funny, I was about to say the same thing about you.”

“I wasn’t patronizing you, I meant it as a compliment.”

Shelby gave him a saccharine smile. “Now why would I ever think otherwise?”

They lapsed into silence once more, jogging farther along the uninhabited beach. The only sounds to be heard were those of the surf breaking and the gulls crying. It was peaceful and quiet, and Shelby felt the tension begin to slowly drain from her, the exercise working its loosening magic.

“So, are you going to tell me what prompted your sudden return to Halford House?” Garrett’s voice shattered the peace.

Shelby tensed again. “I will if you’ll tell me why my father seems to have suddenly become your number one fan.”

Garrett grinned. “Suspicious about that, are you?”

“I’m not as stupid or gullible as you may think, Mr. McGrath.”

“Garrett,” he corrected. “And I don’t think you’re stupid or gullible at all. Quite the contrary.” He stopped running, and because she was at his disposal, Shelby stopped, too.

“I want to cool off. Let’s go swimming.” Garrett stooped to untie his running shoes.

“In the ocean?”

He looked up at her. “Where else?”