The Ties That Bind

me because you've decided you want to go on sleeping with me and you think you'll find our weekend affair more comfortable if you have more control over me. Does that about sum it up, Garth? Have I got all the facts straight?"
    "I'm not talking about controlling you, damn it, I'm talking about protecting you."
    "It's a matter of opinion."
    The whiskey glass came down on the end table with a violent crash as Garth surged to his feet. Shoving his hands into his pockets in a gesture that made his tension plain, he stalked to the far end of the small, cozy room and turned to glare at her. "Shannon, I am not blaming you for what happened the other night. I'm blaming myself. I shouldn't have allowed you to be put into a position where you could get used the way you were used. I want to protect you. I want to keep you out of that side of my life. I don't want you getting sucked into the back-stabbing and the politics of my world. You're not cut out for it."
    "You mean I'm too dumb and naive to survive in it, don't you? I'll tell you something, Garth. I don't know which I prefer least-having you think I'm a corporate spy or having you think I'm too naive to be one. Neither is a compliment to me. You've got a hell of a lot of nerve showing up on my doorstep tonight saying you want to marry me, when all you really want to do is keep this affair of ours running on your terms. It's yourself you're trying to protect, Garth, not me. You think that if I'm wearing your ring I'll be easier to manage, less of an unknown quantity. You'll feel more in command, won't you?"
    "Shannon, you're twisting my words. Now just calm down and think about this logically for a few minutes."
    "I can't think logically. I'm an artist, remember? I'm temperamental, volatile and unpredictable. And I'll tell you something else, Garth, that much isn't going to change if I marry you. I'll still be just as temperamental, volatile and unpredictable. It's in the blood!"
    "You're angry."
    "Brilliant observation. I'm downright furious."
    "Let me take you out to dinner. It will give you a chance to calm down," he suggested quietly.
    "I don't want a chance to calm down!"
    "Shannon, listen to me-"
    "No, you listen to me," she shot back. "It's been hard enough trying to adjust to the idea of being your weekend mistress. I'll be damned if I'll play the role of weekend wife. You're right about one thing-I am a lot freer with things the way they have been. But I'll be freer still when I stop being available to you entirely."
    He started toward her. "Shannon, you're all wound up. Calm down and give yourself some time to get accustomed to the idea. Don't say a lot of things you'll regret later."
    "I won't regret any of this. The only things I do regret are the weekends I've already thrown away on you!"
    "We've both had some adjusting to do-"
    She didn't allow him to finish. "You haven't done any adjusting at all that I can see. I'm the only one who's been expected to adjust and that is coming to a halt right now. Go back to San Jose and your back-stabbing friends, Garth. I'm not in the market for a weekend husband or even a weekend lover."
    His eyes glittered with a repressed fury that seemed to have sprung up out of nowhere. Shannon took an uncertain step backward, startled at the lightning change in his mood. Until now he had been frustratingly and infuriatingly calm. All of a sudden Shannon had the feeling she was facing a barely leashed storm.
    "You love me." It was a statement, not a plea or a guess.
    "Weekend lovers can fall out of love as quickly as they fall into it. It doesn't take much to ruin the mood. Just one lousy weekend!"
    "Stop it, Shannon."
    "I don't want you in my life," she flung back, goaded. "You're too hard and ruthless for my world. You're not cut out for it."
    "You should have figured that out before you cornered me on the beach that first morning," he rasped. Then he was in front of her, crowding her against the wall and cutting off her escape. "Shannon, you can't walk away from what we have. Not now. It's much too late."
    His mouth came down on hers, his arms going around her to lock her to him. Shannon gasped beneath the onslaught of his kiss, prepared to struggle with all her strength. But the moment his lips met hers, the fight went out of her. The hunger in him was as strong as ever, but now there was a kind of masculine desperation underlying the embrace. She sensed the need in him and knew with feminine intuition that it was far more than