Best of Desire. Оливия Гейтс

made him realize how unaffected she was by the trappings. In a compass, she would be the magnet, a grounding center.

      And he owed her so much better than he’d delivered thus far. He’d wrecked Shannon’s life. It was up to him to fix it. Here, alone with her in the bright light of day, he couldn’t avoid the truth.

      They would get married.

      The decision settled inside him with a clean fit, so much so he wondered why he hadn’t decided so resolutely before now. His feelings for her ran deep. He knew she cared for him, too. And marrying each other would solve her problems.

      They were making progress. He could tell she’d been swayed by the flowers, the ambience.

      A plan formed in his mind. Later tonight he would take her to the chapel, lit with candles, and he would propose, while the lovemaking they’d shared here was still fresh in her memory.

      Now he just had to figure out the best way to persuade her to say yes.

      Thumbing the off button, she disconnected her call. “The nanny says Kolby has only just woken up and she’s feeding him a snack.” She passed his phone to him and curled against his side on the chaise. “Thanks for not teasing me about being overprotective. I can’t help but worry when I’m not with him.”

      “I would too, if he was mine,” he said. Then her surprised expression prompted him to continue, “Why do you look shocked?”

      “No offense meant.” She smoothed a hand along his chest. “It’s just obvious you and he haven’t connected.”

      Something he would need to rectify in order to be a part of Shannon’s life. “I will never let you or him down the way his father did.”

      She winced and he could feel her drawing back into herself. He wanted all barriers gone between them as fully as they’d tossed aside their clothes.

      “Hey, Shannon, stay with me here.” He cupped her bare hip. “I asked you before if your husband hit you and you said no. Did you lie about that?”

      Sitting up abruptly, she gathered her swimsuit off the floor.

      “Let’s get dressed and then we can talk.” She yanked on the suit bottom briskly.

      Waiting, he slid on his board shorts. She tied the bikini strings behind her neck with exaggerated effort, all the while staring at the floor. A curtain of tousled blond locks covered her face. Just when he’d begun to give up on getting an answer, she straightened, shaking her hair back over her shoulders.

      “I was telling the truth when I said Nolan never laid a hand on me. But there are things I need to explain in order for you to understand why it’s so difficult for me to accept help.” Determination creased her face. “Nolan was always a driven man. His perfectionism made him successful in business. And I’d been brought up to believe marriage is forever. How could I leave a man because he didn’t like the way I hung clothes in the closet?”

      He forced his hands to stay loose on his knees, keeping his body language as unthreatening as possible when he already sensed he would want to beat the hell out of Nolan Crawford by the end of this conversation—if he wasn’t already dead.

      Plucking a flower petal from her hair, she rubbed the coral-colored patch between two fingers. “Do you know how many people laughed at me because I was upset that he didn’t want me to work? He said he wanted us to have more time together. Somehow any plans I made with others were disrupted. After a while I lost contact with my friends.”

      The picture of isolation came together in his head with startling clarity. He understood the claustrophobic feeling of being cut off from the rest of the world. Although he couldn’t help but think his father’s need to protect his children differed from an obsessive—abusive—husband dominating his wife. Rage simmered, ready to boil.

      She scooped her cover-up from the floor and clutched it to her stomach. “Then I got pregnant. Splitting up became more complicated.”

      Hating like hell the helpless feeling, he passed her glasses back to her. It was damn little, but all he could see her accepting from him right now.

      With a wobbly smile, she slid them on her face and seemed to take strength from them. “When Kolby was about thirteen months old, he spiked a scary high fever while I was alone with him. Nolan had always gone with us to pediatric check-ups. At the ER, I was a mess trying to give the insurance information. I had no idea what to tell them, because Nolan had insisted I not ‘worry’ about such things as medical finances. That day triggered something in me. I needed to take care of my son.”

      He took her too-cold hand and rubbed it between his.

      “Looking back now I see the signs were there. Nolan’s computer and cell phone were password protected. He considered it an invasion of privacy if I asked who he was speaking to. I thought he was cheating. I never considered…”

      He squeezed her hand in silent encouragement.

      “So I decided to learn more about the finances, because if I needed to leave him, I had to make sure my son’s future was protected and not spirited away to some Cayman account.” She fidgeted, her fingers landing on the blue salvia—I think of you often took on a darker meaning. “I was lucky enough to figure out his computer password.”

      “You discovered the Ponzi scheme?” Good God, what kind of strength would it take to turn in her own husband?

      “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I handed over the evidence to the police. He’d stolen so much from so many people, I couldn’t stay silent. His parents posted bail, and I wasn’t given warning.” She spun the stem between her thumb and forefinger. “When he walked back into the house, he had a gun.”

      Shock nailed him harder than a sail boom to the gut.

      “My God, Shannon. I knew he’d committed suicide but I had no idea you were there. I’m so damn sorry.”

      “That’s not all, though. For once the media didn’t uncover everything.” She drew herself up straight. “Nolan said he was going to kill me, then Kolby and then himself.”

      Her words iced the perspiration on his brow. This was so much worse than he’d foreseen. He cupped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She trembled and kept twirling the flower, but she didn’t stop speaking.

      “His parents pulled up in the driveway.” A shuddering sigh racked her body, her profile pained. “He realized he wouldn’t have time to carry out his original plan. Thank God he locked himself in his office before he pulled the trigger and killed himself.”

      “Shannon.” Horror threatened to steal his breath, but for her, he would hold steady. “I don’t even know what to say to fix the hell you were put through.”

      “I didn’t tell his parents what he’d planned. They’d lost their son and he’d been labeled a criminal.” She held up the blue salvia. “I couldn’t see causing them more grief when they thought of him.”

      Her eyes were filled with tears and regret. Tony kissed her forehead, then pulled her against his chest. “You were generous to the memory of a man who didn’t deserve it.”

      “I didn’t do it for him. No matter what, he’s the father of my child.” She pressed her cheek harder against him and hugged him tightly. “Kolby will have to live with the knowledge that his dad was a crook, but I’ll be damned before I’ll let my son know his own father tried to kill him.”

      “You’ve fought hard for your son.” He stroked her back. “You’re a good mother and a strong woman.”

      She reminded him of a distant memory, of his own mother wrapping him in a silver blanket as they left San Rinaldo and telling him the shield would keep him safe. She’d been right. If only he could have protected her, as well.

      Easing away, Shannon scrubbed her damp cheeks. “Thank God for Vernon. I’d sold off everything to pay Nolan’s debts,