The Ties That Bind

herself to use the powder room. Some places were still sacrosanct, she reflected a few minutes later as she emerged back into the hall. She passed the room that was being used to store purses and shawls and noticed both her own tote and Bonnie's lying on the bed. Amid the clutter of more ordinary leather and fabric bags, the vividly hued designs on the totes were readily visible. Shannon was pleased that Bonnie had liked hers enough to bring it tonight.
    As she came around the hall into the white-on-white living room, Shannon was startled to be greeted by a masculine voice.
    "Garth finally let you escape, I see." Ed Kenyon was standing beside a huge potted palm, sipping a martini.
    Kenyon. The man whose firm was bidding against Garth's for the Carstairs contract. Shannon smiled politely. "He's afraid I'll feel lost among all these strangers."
    Kenyon chuckled. He was a good-looking man in his early forties, brown-haired and blue-eyed. He was dressed in an expensive Italian-made summer suit, and Shannon was fairly certain he, too, owned one of the Ferraris out front. "Garth never does anything out of sheer good manners. He's keeping tabs on you because he wants to make it clear you're not available. Can't blame the guy, I guess. Not after the way his first wife skipped with his partner."
    Everyone seemed to know about the mysterious Christine and her affair with Garth's friend James. With that kind of scandal hanging around in the background, she could understand why Garth wasn't anxious to introduce another woman to his business acquaintances.
    "I'm afraid I'm new in Garth's life. I don't know much about his past. Maybe it's better if I hear the details from him." She nodded serenely and started to step past Ed Kenyon.
    He put the hand that wasn't holding the martini glass on the wall beside her shoulder, halting her. "Hey, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to step on any toes. You've got a lot of class, you know that? Garth may have gotten lucky this time around. Look, let's start over. Any friend of Garth's is a friend of mine."
    "I understood the two of you were rivals."
    Kenyon grinned. "That doesn't mean much. Around here everyone involved in the computer business is a potential rival. I take it you're not from San Jose?"
    "No, I'm just visiting from the coast."
    "Ah, that explains it." Kenyon nodded wisely, his hand still on the wall next to Shannon.
    "Explains what?"
    "Why you're under the impression Garth and I are rivals. I suppose he's told you his firm is going to be the one to walk off with that Carstairs contract?"
    Shannon moved uneasily, turning slightly to slip away from the restraining hand. "I don't know anything about Garth's business."
    "Then you'd better learn, honey. A smart, pretty lady like you needs to know which way to jump when things move. And things do move fast here in the valley. You wouldn't want to be left hanging on to a loser instead of a winner, would you?" Kenyon set down his martini glass and flattened his other palm on the wall beside Shannon's head, blocking the escape route she had been about to take. He leaned close. "Between you and me, Shannon, I'm a winner."
    Outrage mingled with disgust in Shannon's mind. She reminded herself that she was a guest at a party and the last thing she wanted to do was create a scene. But this had gone far enough. She lifted her chin and stepped away from the wall, trying to force him to back away from her.
    "Excuse me, Mr. Kenyon, Garth's waiting for me."
    "Let him wait." His arm still blocked her path, and his blue eyes were taunting.
    Shannon took a deep breath and ducked under one restraining arm. She had just slipped out from captivity when she glanced across the room and saw Garth.
    "Garth!" She hurried toward him. "I was just coming to look for you."
    "Get your bag, Shannon," he ordered, his voice too lethally soft. His eyes were on Kenyon. "We're leaving."
    "But, Garth..." Helplessly she let her protest run into the ground. She didn't need any extra degree of feminine intuition to tell her this was not a time to try setting the record straight. Garth was furious. The knowledge subdued her. She'd never seen him in this mood and it alarmed her. For a moment she had a mental picture of Kenyon and Garth in a dark alley with knives. It wasn't a pleasant image. She knew the blood on the ground would be Kenyon's.
    Choosing discretion as the better part of valor for the moment, Shannon went back down the hall to the bedroom to fetch her tote bag. Sadly