Taming The Tycoon. Kathryn Taylor

to her leg, hindering her as she tried to show Ian into the living room.

      “Have a seat. I have to get changed.” Scooping the child up in her arms, she darted to her bedroom.

      She plopped Chelsea on the bed and quickly shed her soiled slacks in favor of a brightly colored peasant skirt. Paired with her ruffled blouse, she looked like a Gypsy. She searched her closet for a better choice, then gave up. Why did she care? It wasn’t as if she wanted to impress the man.

      “Who he is?” Chelsea asked.

      Shannon ran a brush though Chelsea’s baby-fine hair and for the first time the child didn’t flinch away. “He’s your brother, Ian.”

      “Chelsea wants a cookie.” Obviously, the discovery of a big brother was less appealing than Mrs. Fields’s chocolate chip cookies.

      “Not now.” Braced for the worst, Shannon was pleasantly surprised when the child shrugged and turned her attention to the crystal perfume bottles on her vanity.

      “I sorry,” Chelsea said to the reflection in the mirror.

      A little late, but Shannon got her apology. The simple words felt like a major triumph. “I know. Leave that for now. We have a guest.”

      They returned to the living room where Ian had made himself right at home in the overstuffed chair. Shannon noted the way he carefully avoided looking at his sister. Any hope that some sense of family obligation or even natural curiosity had compelled his visit faded in a flash. Her niece would continue to live without a male influence in her life.

      “I expected to hear from you,” Ian said.

      “Did I say I would call?” She pushed a teddy bear out of the way and sat on the sofa. Chelsea scrambled into Shannon’s lap and cuddled close.

      “You returned my check.”

      “I didn’t know what it was for.”

      “Child support for...ah...”

      “Your sister?”

      He exhaled slowly. “She’s not my sister.”

      Shannon tenderly stroked the child’s back, lulling her into a quiet, dreamlike state. “If you don’t consider her family, then there’s no reason for you to support her.”

      “I didn’t mean it like that.”

      “Yes, you did.”

      Ian noted the quiet sorrow in her words. She seemed tired. Obviously the girl was a handful. Although right now, falling asleep m her aunt’s lap, she looked like a little angel. He dragged his gaze away. He had no business feeling anything for this blue-eyed imp.

      “Just tell me what you want,” he said.

      “Did I ask you for anything, Mr Bradford?”

      “No. As a matter of fact, you’ve been conspicuous by your silence. You must have a price. A bottom line?”

      “You seem to be under the mistaken impression that I have something to sell. The inheritance belongs to Chelsea, not me.”

      “And as her legal guardian you make all decisions regarding her money and property until her eighteenth birthday.”

      She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “If those decisions are in her best interest, not yours.”

      “The money would allow you to afford some help with the child.”

      Her golden eyes flashed with anger. “Would you stop calling her ‘the child’? Her name is Chelsea.”

      “Fine, Chelsea could have a nanny, you could hire a housekeeper...”

      “So, now my house is dirty?” Her whispered words reflected her irritation as clearly as if she had shouted.

      He glanced around the room at the assortment of toys that littered the obviously expensive furniture. However, despite the presence of a two-year-old, the pale blue print sofa and chair were surprisingly spotless. “Not dirty, exactly.”

      “Perhaps you’d like to take a moment to get your foot out of your mouth.”

      Ian rose and paced around the room. Shannon had been right. His communication skills were lacking, but only around her. Normally, he made his point without leaving room for argument.

      She carefully slipped out from underneath the child and lovingly tucked a small crocheted blanket around her tiny body. “She doesn’t need nannies, cooks and housekeepers coming in and out of her life.” Shannon stormed into the kitchen.

      Ian followed. “Then why don’t you tell me what the chi.. Chelsea needs.”

      As she spun to face him, her full skirt swirled around her legs. “Time, Ian. She needs time and compassion and love from what little family she has left. Are you offering her your time in return for her shares in the company?”

      “I beg your pardon?”

      “It’s not difficult to understand. You can deal with her now or when she’s an eighteen-year-old stranger you didn’t have the time or interest to know.”

      “I don’t follow.”

      “You want your precious company. Fine.” She leaned against the tile counter and folded her arms over her waist. Her full red lips curved upward in a challenging smile. “For the next twelve months you maintain a regular relationship with your sister. At the end of the year you can buy her shares in the company.”

      His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What’s the catch?”

      “No catch.”

      “And if I refuse?”

      She shook her head. “I’m not about to make a bunch of empty threats. That’s something you’ll have to fight out with Chelsea fifteen years from now. The only decision you have to make is how long you want to wait for Westervelt Properties.”

      “And you believe that blackmailing me into visiting my sister is in her best interest.”

      Shannon met his gaze without blinking. Despite the fact that he towered a full head above her, she didn’t show any sign of being intimidated. “First of all, I’m not blackmailing you, I’m bribing you. And secondly, the idea must have some merit, since that’s the first time you’ve referred to her as your sister.”

      Ian bit back an angry retort. He still had the option of suing for control of Chelsea’s inheritance, but he had no guarantee he’d win. He didn’t like having his back against a wall. Shannon obviously knew how to manipulate a man She might present a better package, but was she really any different than her gold-digging sister?

      “What’s in it for you?”

      “Nothing.”

      “Given your family history, I find that hard to believe.”

      She arched her eyebrows. “And which history is that?”

      “Your sister managed to get herself a substantial child support settlement. You mother married her wealthy patient less than a month after she began working as his private nurse.”

      “You had my mother investigated, too?” She blinked and he noted an unmistakable sadness in her shimmering eyes. “Don’t you have anything better to do with your time and money?”

      “I never had any of you investigated. That was Wesley’s doing,” he said, too defensively for his own liking. Where had this feeling of guilt come from? He’d never felt compelled to explain his actions to anyone.

      “Oh, your father. That paragon of family values who was seduced and outwitted by his twenty-five-year-old manicurist.”

      “I never said he was blameless.”

      “They’re both to blame but Chelsea is the only one who’s left to pay.” She pushed off the counter and walked to the Dutch door.