Wildest Hearts

The man appeared to be in his late sixties. He carried himself with a stiff military posture that made him appear taller than he was. He was almost bald. A fringe of gray hair was cut close to his skull. He had a beak of a nose and there were deep indentations beneath his cheekbones.

    The woman, who was probably in her late fifties, was fashionably slender and fit looking. The skin around her eyes and mouth was strikingly free of the wrinkles one would have expected in a woman of her age. She wore her silver hair in a smooth, short curving wave.

    Annie knew from the way the distinguished couple moved through the crowd, nodding at the guests and murmuring politely, that she was looking at none other than Mr. and Mrs. Paul Shore.

    “Before you try that trick with the heel of your shoe a second time,” Oliver said softly to Annie, “I'd better warn you that I'm not going to shake hands with the bastard.”

    “Now, Oliver, there's no need to be hasty here.”

    “Take some advice. Don't push your luck any farther than you already have tonight. You're on thin ice as it is.” Oliver urged her toward the solarium entrance.

    The crowd parted, leaving Annie and Oliver on a collision course with the Shores. Oliver did not slow or hesitate. He simply kept moving forward like a shark through water. Annie was appalled. It was obvious the four of them would all collide in a tangled heap if someone didn't change direction or get out of the way.

    Paul shore glanced up and saw Oliver and Annie bearing down on the doorway. A startled expression crossed his face.

    Mrs. Shore turned with a gracious smile. It was clear she did not immediately recognize Oliver. Then her eyes widened. Her smile turned uneasy. She shot Annie a quick, worried glance as if she wondered if there would be any help forthcoming from that direction.

    “Hello, Rain,” Paul Shore said stiffly as Oliver moved toward him. “Didn't know you'd be here tonight.”

    Oliver said nothing. He just kept moving toward the entrance as if the other man did not exist. Annie was keenly aware of the fascinated gazes of those watching the small scene.

    Mrs. Shore made a noble effort. “We enjoyed meeting your sister earlier this evening. Such a lovely young woman. I understand you're newly married?”

    Oliver still did not respond. He was headed toward the entrance with the single-minded concentration of a predator intent on prey.

    Annie had had enough. Aunt Madeline had always claimed that good manners were all that stood between civilization and savagery.

    Annie dug in her heels, more or less dragging Oliver to a halt. A shudder of fresh anticipation went through those who stood nearby.

    “Good evening, Mrs. Shore. I'm Annie Rain. Nice to meet you. Lovely party. I'm so sorry we can't stay. Something's come up.”

    “Yes, of course, I understand.” Mrs. Shore looked almost pathetically grateful for the short burst of social patter. She glanced quickly at Oliver. “So kind of you to drop by.”

    “Been a long time, Rain,” Paul Shore said gruffly.

    “Not long enough.” Oliver spoke so softly that only the four of them could hear.

    Shore's face flushed a dull red. “It would appear that your sister and my son have become rather close lately. Perhaps we should talk. For their sake.”

    Oliver studied him without any evidence of emotion. “Maybe you're right. Give my secretary a call. We'll set up an appointment.”

    Shore's eyes narrowed at the curt manner in which he had been told to deal with a secretary. But he made no comment on the not-so-subtle insult. “All right. I'll do that.”

    Oliver inclined his head with chilling grace. Then he tightened his grip on Annie's arm and swept her out of the room.

    Bolt was waiting near the limousine in the long, curving drive. Oliver stopped briefly to speak to him.

    “Take the car back to the garage,” Oliver said. “I'll drive Annie home. We won't be needing you for the rest of the evening.”

    “Yes, sir.” Bolt gave Annie a brief, unreadable glance. Then he turned away to get behind the wheel of the limo.

    Oliver drew Annie toward her little red compact, which was parked on the street. “Let me have the keys.”

    Annie fished inside her purse for her key ring. “Want me to drive?”

    “No.”

    “I didn't know you drove,” she said, skipping a step to keep up with him. When Oliver slanted her a strange glance she added quickly, “I mean, I thought Bolt did all your driving for