Full Bloom

you. He's only interested in Ravenscroft International. You can't deny the evidence you've heard tonight."
    For the first time Emily allowed her gaze to move into the shadows. She met Jacob Stone's eyes. "Tapes can be faked. Everyone knows that. Why should I believe the one Mr. Stone has put together?"
    Drake stirred abruptly. Obviously no one had expected her to question the evidence. "You know better than that, Emily. Jacob wouldn't have faked that tape."
    Emily looked at her brother, the anger within her simmering to the surface for the first time. "Jacob Stone would do anything you or Father told him to do. He works for you. Yes, I realize he carries a fancy title. Vice president in charge of overseas operations or some such thing, but we all know the truth, don't we? He's nothing more than your paid enforcer. He's a professional intimidator. Why should I believe anything he put together for this little confrontation?"
    No one in the room seemed to know how to react to the savage insult. Emily tried to take some satisfaction from that small victory. It was not often she was able to score even a tiny win from her family. She did not dare look back at Jacob to see how he had responded.
    "Jacob is a man of honor," Gifford Ravenscroft finally said with a grimness that emphasized how hard he was working to keep control of his temper. "And for your information, he resigned his position with RI two months ago. He is here tonight as a favor."
    "Is that right?" Emily asked with false brightness. "He just does this sort of work now for the fun of it?" She sent a scathing glance into the shadows of the room. Stone did not move. He just stood there quietly watching her. His very stillness was unnerving.
    "Dammit, Emily, stop attacking Jacob," Drake ordered. "He helped us out on this, and we're grateful. We didn't want an outsider doing the investigation. We can count on Jacob to keep his mouth shut. None of this will go any farther than this room."
    "How reassuring," Emily said dryly. "I hate to break this to you, but I'm not particularly worried about how far this goes."
    "Emily, dear, there's no need to be sarcastic. I realize this is upsetting for you," Catherine interjected more gently. "But you must realize we're only doing this for your own good. You don't understand big business; nor do you understand what kind of man Morrell is. He's a conniving bastard. He'll use anyone or anything, and unfortunately he's decided to use you. Now that you know the truth, we expect you to be sensible about this. You must put an end to the relationship. It's very dangerous. You can't possibly marry the man."
    Emily decided she'd had enough. She collected her small leather purse and got to her feet. The members of her family stared at her in astonishment.
    "It's been a very interesting evening," she assured them all brightly. "I was looking forward to staying for dinner, but under the circumstances, I hope you'll excuse me."
    "Sit down, Emily!" Gifford roared. "We're not through here."
    Emily ignored him. It was the first time she had ever done such a thing. She walked to the door. "I've got a long drive ahead of me. I'd better be on my way."
    "Emily!" her mother exclaimed. "You can't be serious. It's much too late to drive back to Seattle tonight. That's a two-hundred-mile trip. You won't get home until nearly midnight."
    "All the more reason to be moving along," Emily said cheerfully from the door. She had her hand on the knob. It was turning beneath her fingers. In another moment she would be free. "Thanks for the invitation to spend the weekend, but I'll have to take a rain check. I'm sure you can understand that I've lost some of my enthusiasm for family life. Good night, everyone."
    She was through the door, closing it behind her. Emily realized she was almost shaking in reaction. But she was all right, she assured herself. She had survived. She was not going to dissolve into anguished tears the way she had two years ago when she had been summoned to her father's study to learn the truth about the man she had been planning to marry. Maybe it was easier this time around because she had never planned to marry Damon Morrell. Emily did not plan to marry anyone, ever. But her family did not know that.
    Clutching her purse with whitened knuckles, Emily walked determinedly across the oriental carpets and polished hardwood floors of her parents' elegant Portland hillside home. Then she let herself out into the chill of the spring night.