Full Bloom

whole thing is going to explode on me. I know it is. I wanted a nice, quiet, private relationship with Jacob. But he won't allow it. He's too proud. Now I'm going to have to come up with a high-tech defense system in order to protect us."
    "Any ideas?"
    "Not yet," Emily admitted despairingly. "The only thing that ever really terrifies my family is a direct threat to Ravenscroft International. An attack from that direction is probably the only thing that would keep them in line, and how could I possibly threaten RI?"
    "Beats me. Mind if I share that packet of sugar?"
    Emily's fingers froze on the stem of the lily. The delicate stalk snapped in her hand. "Shares."
    "What are you talking about?" Diane glanced at the broken flower.
    "My shares in RI. They're mine, Diane."
    "I know. So is the seat on the board of directors. What's that got to do with anything?"
    Emily looked at her. "Theoretically I can do anything I want with those shares."
    It was Diane's turn to stare as realization dawned. "Emily, you wouldn't dare use those shares to threaten your family."
    "Why not?" Emily frowned, trying to think through the ramifications of such a daring plan.
    "Are you kidding? From what you've told me about your family, I know enough to guess they would chew you up into little pieces if you tried a stunt like that. You'd never get away with it. They would never allow you to use those shares against them."
    "They wouldn't have much choice in the matter." Emily spoke with sudden conviction. She yanked out the rest of the flowers in the arrangement and started from scratch, using a single crimson anthurium and three nearly bare branches.
    "Emily, listen to me, this is crazy. You can't do it. You're not the type. Let Jacob handle your family."
    "I can't take the risk," Emily said simply. "There's too much of a chance they'll find a way to drive him off. It's up to me to protect my relationship with Jacob."
    Diane groaned. "I knew it. You really are in love, aren't you? The only other time I've seen you this determined to take a stand against your family was when you decided to open this shop."
    "I survived that confrontation, didn't I?" Emily pointed out.
    "Something tells me this scene is going to be a whole lot worse," Diane predicted gloomily.

SIX
    « ^ »
    M idway through the gala social event that constituted Gifford Ravenscroft's birthday party, Jacob Stone looked around and discovered he was alone in the crowd. Emily had disappeared.
    He swirled the Scotch in the glass he held in one hand. Ice cubes clinked. The small sound was barely audible in the laughter and chatter of the well-dressed guests. Jacob ran a quick, searching glance over the people standing nearby, but he didn't really expect to find Emily in their midst. He was not surprised when he didn't spot her.
    He took a slow, meditative swallow of the Scotch and considered his next course of action. It was not hard to guess where he would eventually find Emily. By now she would have been taken aside by one or more Ravenscrofts and quietly asked to account for her choice of escorts to the annual family ball. Jacob decided he had better find her before she found herself cornered. She was a spirited little creature, but she was also very soft and vulnerable. He did not like the idea of her facing the wolf pack that was her family all by herself.
    "Looking for someone, Stone?" A man of about fifty-five, portly and resplendent in formal black and white, glanced around as Jacob tried to ease his way through a cluster of businessmen.
    "My date," Jacob explained ruefully. "I seem to have misplaced her. I turned my back for a moment and she vanished."
    He recognized the man who had spoken to him. The name was Jensen. Jacob envied the man his easy air of elegance. Even though the older man was overweight and out of shape, Jensen looked at home in the tux. Jacob's evening suit was rented, and he was afraid it showed its origins. It wasn't that he couldn't afford to buy a tux, it was simply that he rarely ever needed one and saw no need to invest in clothes he would only wear once a year at the most. Emily hadn't seemed to mind his lack of interest in formal attire.
    Ravenscroft International had once done Jensen a favor. Jacob had been the one sent out to dispense the favor in a suitably quiet manner. It had involved a small matter of industrial espionage. Jensen, a prominent Portland businessman, had not wanted to make any waves but he had needed discreet help. Gifford