The Ties That Bind

strongly as possible. "How's that for being up-front and honest? I want you out of my house immediately. You have completely misinterpreted my actions, and I don't feel like explaining them to you. Now get out."
    He shrugged and turned to go. Shannon followed him to the front door, her eyes still reflecting anger and chagrin. Stiffly she held the door as he walked out onto the front steps. Garth turned once more to scan her face by the glow of the outside light. Then he nodded to himself and strode off toward his own cottage. In a moment he had disappeared into the evening fog.
    Shannon slammed the door shut behind him, not caring if he heard the obvious manifestation of her temper, and slumped against the wood. Of all the stupid, embarrassing situations! What a fool she had made of herself. She should have abandoned the idea of getting to know him as soon as she'd discovered he wasn't really a writer or a poet or an artistic type of any kind. She couldn't imagine what had possessed her to ask Garth to stay late for a brandy.
    Slowly she straightened away from the door, turned the old, worn-out lock and, with a groan of disgust, headed for the kitchen. It wasn't all her fault, she told herself bracingly. After all, Garth hadn't exactly been forthcoming about either his occupation or his assumptions. And he'd had the nerve to accept her invitation to dinner, during which he'd managed to drop more than one clangor into the conversation. His behavior was inexcusable. She would not berate herself further. Somewhat defiantly she helped herself to a shot of the brandy she had attempted to serve earlier to her guest.
    Outside in the fog, Garth paused on the top step of his cottage and glanced back at Shannon's house while he dug his key out of his pocket. The heavy mist turned her front door light into a ghostly glow, and the bulk of her cottage was an unreal shadow. For a jarring moment his mind played with an unsettling fantasy of a fairy lady living in a gossamer castle.
    He had been invited to dinner in the castle and had blundered badly. Garth shoved the key in the lock and sighed deeply. Odds were he wouldn't get a second invitation.
    With a nagging sense of regret he closed the door and walked into the tiny kitchen alcove to find the bottle of whiskey he had brought with him from San Jose. He poured himself a generous shot and carried the glass out into the living room. There he sprawled in an old, slipcovered chair that probably dated from the forties. It brought to mind the fact that in a couple more years he, too, was going to hit forty. He wondered if by then he would need reupholstering as badly as the chair did. There was no doubt he was beginning to feel the wear and tear of his life.
    Leaning his head back against the cushion, Garth closed his eyes and savored the bite of the whiskey. It would have been much more pleasant, he admitted to himself, to be sipping brandy with the lady in the castle next door. A picture of a handful of freckles scattered beneath intelligent, inquiring eyes popped into his head. There was more than intelligence and inquiry in that wide, feminine gaze. There was a hint of promise, too.
    He didn't have to analyze his own actions to know why he'd behaved the way he had this evening. The reason was simple enough. He'd wanted to shatter the illusion before someone else did it for him.
    From the moment Shannon had tumbled out of the fog this morning, nearly colliding with him, he had been wary. There was nothing unusual about that. It was Garth Sheridan's nature to be cautious with others. He had known too many people who couldn't be trusted. Normally he had no trouble keeping others at a distance.
    But something was different in this case. Something was substantially different when it came to dealing with Shannon Raine . He hadn't planned to accept her dinner invitation because he hadn't been able to figure her out. He would have preferred to have her fully analyzed, assessed and understood before getting involved with her. Yet when six o'clock had arrived this evening he had found himself locking his door and walking the short distance between his cottage and the fairy castle.
    Garth had had women pursue him before, but usually because they had learned he was a financially successful male who happened to be unattached and not terribly ugly. He was fairly certain it wasn't his innate charm that had drawn them. Charm was not his long suit. Men who were by nature loners and by experience