Absolutely, Positively

done that anywhere.” Molly shook her head. “No, he stayed in the area because by the time he had finished his grant, he had found a place for himself in both the Stratton and Trevelyan families.”

    Parker bridled. “He made it damned clear he wanted no part of his Stratton heritage.”

    “That's not true,” Molly said quietly. “The only thing he didn't want was the Stratton money.”

    “It's the same thing,” Parker grumbled.

    “No, Mr. Stratton, it's not. At least, not to Harry.” Molly made her way around the end of the table and started up the Stratton side of the room.

    Gilford frowned. “When Harry told us that he refused to join the company, he as much as told us that he considered himself more Trevelyan than Stratton.”

    “Heis more Trevelyan than Stratton,” Evangeline announced triumphantly.

    “Damn right,” Raleigh put in helpfully. “Got the reflexes. And Granny Gwen always said she thought he had the Sight.”

    Olivia grimaced. “For God's sake, could we please keep this conversation in the realm of reality? Harry has a disorder, not paranormal abilities.”

    Evangeline deigned to fix her with a freezing glare. “Just because you don't believe in such things doesn't mean they don't exist.”

    “I certainly don't believe in that psychic nonsense,” Olivia shot back. “No reasonably well-educated person does believe in it, and that includes Harry, himself.”

    “Now see here—” Leon began.

    “That's enough on that topic,” Molly interrupted forcefully. “Whether or not Harry has paranormal abilities has nothing to do with this discussion. Harry is in Seattle because he wants to be involved with both his Stratton and Trevelyan relatives. He wants what his parents longed for and never got—an end to the feud.”

    Leon shot Parker a scathing look. “The Strattons started it.”

    Parker gave a muffled squawk. “Why you washed up, no-good, sneaky bastard—”

    Molly paused to bang on Josh's water glass with a fork. “I'm not finished here.”

    The Strattons and Trevelyans turned disgruntled faces toward her once more.

    “Thank you,” Molly said. “Now then, as I was saying. In an effort to find a place for himself in the bosom of his family, Harry has allowed all of you to take serious advantage of him.”

    Danielle stiffened in her chair. “Are you implying that we use Harry?”

    Molly smiled approvingly at her. “Yes, Mrs. Hughes, that is exactly what I'm implying.”

    Danielle stared at her, open-mouthed, and then she turned red. “That's an outrageous insult, Ms. Abberwick. And I for one object.”

    Evangeline was equally annoyed. “What's all this about us using Harry?”

    “That is precisely what all of you do,” Molly said quietly.

    “He's a Trevelyan,” Evangeline sputtered. “He has a certain responsibility to his family.”

    Gilford glowered at Evangeline across the table. “His mother was my sister, and don't you forget it. That makes him a Stratton. His responsibility is to his Stratton relatives, not to you freeloading Trevelyans.”

    Leon climbed to his feet with a roar. “Why you lousy little two-bit wimp. Harry doesn't owe you a damn thing.”

    “Sit down, Leon. Now.” Molly paused to regain everyone's attention. “Listen to me, all of you. I've lived with Harry long enough to hear the kind of messages that come in on his private line. Two or three a day sometimes.”

    “So?” Gilford challenged.

    “So, he's told me about some of your demands, and I've overheard many of you whining to him about various and assorted problems.”

    “Whining?” Gilford looked scandalized by the accusation.

    “Yes, whining,” Molly repeated. “All of you who contact Harry seem to have one thing in common.”

    A hush fell on the room.

    Olivia toyed with a spoon. “I suppose you're going to tell us what that one thing is?”

    “Yes,” Molly said. “I am. The one thing both Strattons and Trevelyans have in common is that whenever you talk to Harry, you all want something from him.”

    Stunned silence greeted that simple observation. The unnatural hush was immediately followed by an uproar that made conversation impossible. For several minutes Molly could hear nothing above the thundering din of objections, exclamations, and defensive responses.

    Josh was the only one who did not leap to his feet or yell in protest. He lounged in his seat with that cool masculine grace that characterized the Trevelyan men and gave Molly