Page 49

“Well, then, dear,” he teased, his face moving to within inches of hers, “you have to be willing to pay the price, and it won’t be easy.”

“The price?” she asked. “What price are you talking about?” Even in the shadows of the night, under the black cloud-filled sky, Shane could see that she was honestly confused.

“Can’t you see what is bound to happen?” he asked. “Once you make your surprise announcement to your mother-in-law that Angie is my child, can’t you see what is bound to come crashing down on you, on us? The whole damned roof will cave in! All of that Wilcox family will go running to their lawyers in an attempt to save what they consider to be rightfully theirs. There is going to be one helluva mess, darling, and you’ll be right in the middle of it.”

He stopped for a moment to note her reaction to his thoughts. She had propped herself up on her elbows and was hanging on his every word.

“And what about the press?” he continued. “The newspapers will have a field day with this one, don’t you think?” he asked.

Dena’s taunts, issued earlier in the evening, came thundering back. “Oh, God,” Mara moaned with the impact of his statement.

“And that’s not the worst of it. There will probably be charges of collusion between you and me, as if we had planned the entire stock takeover. And,” his voice grew even more sober, “Angie will be the target of it all!”

“No!” Thunder, closer now, clapped threateningly.

“You won’t be able to avoid it.”

“But . . . if you knew all of this . . . why did you take such a chance and invest half a million dollars into Imagination?”

“It’s a sound investment, believe it or not,” he stated with a grim smile. “And Imagination Toys needs me much more than I need them.”

“Oh, Shane,” she murmured. “I don’t know if I’m up to battling with the family anymore.”

“Sure you are. And any story they might dream up about collusion won’t wash with the courts. Don’t worry about it, I’ve already done the groundwork.”

“You don’t know Dena . . .”

Shane’s eyes narrowed wickedly in a brilliant flash of lightning. “I saw her in action last Friday at the board meeting, and don’t worry about Dena, I’m sure I can handle her . . .”

The rain, thick droplets, began to fall in a late summer deluge. Quickly, Shane pulled Mara to her feet and together they dashed toward the house. Once in the safety of the screened portion of the porch, they stood close, not touching, but together watched the fury of the storm unleash.

Shane’s thoughts, deep and troubled, were as ominous as the black night itself. The rain beat a steady rhythm against the roof of the porch, and the downpour, still dusty with summer grit, gurgled with the sound of running water. Mara’s clothes clung to her, and tiny droplets of rain, reflecting in the light from the kitchen window, ran in jeweled rivulets down the tanned length of Shane’s neck.

“I expect that you’ll tell June tomorrow,” Shane announced, wiping the moisture from his face with the back of his hand.

“I don’t know if I can . . .”

“You don’t have a choice.” His tone was even more cutting than his words. He rested his hands on his hips and looked off into the mountains before turning to face Mara. When he did, he crossed his arms over his chest. His hooded gaze pinned Mara against the screen, and involuntarily, expecting the worst, she felt her spine become rigid with dread. What she didn’t realize was how alluring she appeared, her hair and face freshly doused with rainwater and her clothes clinging to her slim figure.

Shane’s words came out slowly, as if with measured intent. “You should know that while I was in Atlanta, I spent a lot of time with Henderson . . . my attorney.”

“Yes?” she returned stiffly. Apprehension tightened her features.

“We talked about a lot of things, such as the collusion and fraud that the Wilcox family will no doubt charge us with.”

“Go on,” she coaxed, steadying herself for the final blow that she was expecting.

“And besides all of that, I told him about Angie.”

Genuine fear took hold of Mara. Her fingers tightened on the screen. “And?” she prodded, her breathing irregular and constricted. “What did he say?”

“Well,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. “What it all boils down to is this—either you marry me right away and I adopt Angie, changing the records to indicate that she is my natural, biological child, or I’ll start custody proceedings against you.”

Mara’s knees began to buckle under the weight of his threat. “No! Oh, Shane, you . . . you wouldn’t!” Mara cried, unbelieving. “You can’t . . . take her away . . .”

“I don’t want to. You know that, but—”

“Don’t do this to me!” she wailed over the pitch of the storm.