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Dena tossed her auburn curls, unconvinced by Mara’s argument, using the board room as center stage for her simmering dispute with her sister-in-law. Shane’s black eyes never left the redhead’s arrogantly beautiful face. Dena voiced her opinion. “I guess I just don’t understand: if the company is such a burden, why don’t we just sell it . . . all of it.” She shrugged her thin shoulders theatrically. “From what I understand, Mr. Kennedy offered to buy it out, completely.”

An audible gasp escaped from around the table. “Why weren’t we notified?” “I never heard that!” “What’s going on here, anyway?” Little catch phrases echoed and ricocheted around the small, enclosed room, and several pairs of eyes looked at Mara with unconcealed disbelief.

Mara felt Shane stiffen beside her, but she put a restraining hand on his coat sleeve. An act, she was sure, that everyone in the room noticed and questioned.

“Just a minute!” June’s cold voice cracked through the air. She gripped the table severely, her knuckles white, and rose with difficulty. “Don’t all of you go blaming Mara . . . and Dena, you should be ashamed of yourself!” She cut her daughter down with an icy gaze. “The reason that Mara didn’t consider Mr. Kennedy’s original proposal to buy out the company is thatIsug-gested otherwise.”

June’s proud chin rose a regal inch. “Imagination Toys has been a tradition with the Wilcox family for generations, as Rich so magnanimously pointed out earlier.” The color in Rich’s round face drained. “Just because things aren’t going exactly our way doesn’t mean that we should throw in the towel.” June’s piercing blue eyes moved from one of her husband’s relatives to the next in cool, commanding appraisal. There was no question as to who was the matriarch of the family.

“Actually, I do agree with Rich.” Her eyes, now more kind, rested upon her nephew. “I wish that there was some way that we could avoid asking for outside help to save the company . . . but . . . it appears that we don’t have much of a choice. Either we accept Mr. Kennedy’s proposal, and I believe it is fair to both parties, or we scale down Imagination from a national toy company to a purely Southeastern endeavor.”

Again, the hushed, excited whispers.

June lowered herself into her chair, clearly drained from the ordeal. Dena pursed her lips together petulantly and refused to look in Mara’s direction. The rest of the family mumbled and grumbled among themselves. Aunt Mimi appeared positively flabbergasted, Cousin Sarah, appalled and nervous, and Cousin Rich, deflated.

After a few more direct questions about the proposal, the family was satisfied and voted, albeit somewhat reluctantly, to sell treasury shares in the corporation to Shane and accept a loan from Delta Electronics. It was a long, stifling affair, and nearly two o’clock in the afternoon by the time all of the details were ironed out.

Much later, when all of the board members had gone, having taken a little time to talk with Shane and voice their opinions, doubts, and hopes for the future of the toy company, Mara felt completely drained and worn out. If the morning with Angie had gone poorly, the board meeting was a total, unnerving free-for-all. It was over, and the battle had turned in her favor, but she couldn’t help but wonder if it was all worth the effort.

“Let’s go to lunch,” Shane suggested, once they were alone in Mara’s office.

“I’m not hungry,” Mara declined, running her fingers through the thick tangle of her blond hair. “I’ve got a million things to do anyway.”

“You should eat something.”

She waved her hand in the air dismissively and placed a tight smile on her face. “No, thanks, I’ll just have a cup of coffee—really, my stomach’s too tied in knots to think about food.”

Shane ignored her protests and reached in the closet for her purse. “Well, I’m going out for lunch, and the least you could do is keep me company . . . come on, it’ll do you good.”

“But I’ve got a ton of work to do.”

“We all do, but nothing much gets accomplished on an empty stomach.”

“All right,” she agreed wearily, too tired of battling board members to argue any further.

* * *

Shane had been right, of course, and the fresh seafood salad that she had ordered had brightened her mood incredibly. He had been considerate, almost loving, and insisted that they talk about anything other than the company. Mara actually found herself relaxing for the first time that day, and though usually not her custom during a working day, she had indulged herself in a glass of cold Chablis.

The headiness of the wine on her tired body had just begun to tingle her spine when Shane’s light mood vanished. He finished his drink, ordered a cup of coffee, and stared into the dark depths of the liquid, as if seeking answers for his life. His frown was commanding, and for a moment he uncharacteristically avoided Mara’s gaze.

“I’m going to Atlanta tonight, for the weekend,” he began, swirling the coffee in the cup before taking a sip. “I’d like you and Angie to come with me.”

Mara ignored the direct invitation. “But I thought you would be here for another week.”

Shane smiled grimly at his own black thoughts. “I will, but unfortunately there’s some business in Atlanta that can’t wait. I’ll be there until Monday afternoon.”

The invitation lay open between them, if only Mara had the strength and trust to accept it. “I . . . I don’t know . . .”

“I take it that you haven’t told June about my relationship with Angie?” Black eyes delved into her.

“No . . . not yet . . .”

Shane’s fist thudded down on the table, scattering the silverware and spilling the water glasses.

“Why the hell not?” he demanded.

“You know why not.”