Excerpts: "The Twain Shall Meet"
Read special holiday excerpts from The Twain Shall Meet.
Shannon Larkin loves the holidays. Recall the rocky beginnings of her romance with Scott Page during Thanksgiving at the family mansion . . . Experience their first kiss under the mistletoe at Christmas . . . And hear Scott's declarations of love on New Year's Eve . . .
The Twain Shall Meet is the third book in the Collective Obsessions Saga. The novel was released in January 2012.
New Year's Eve (Chapters 10 & 11)
NEW YEAR'S EVE IN Larkin City proved, year after year, to be a well celebrated affair. The Coven bulged beyond capacity, and every motel, hotel and bed-and-breakfast were booked well in advance. Over the years, Larkin City gained the reputation of a party town on the last day of the year, with added benefits. Brian Larkin paid all local cab fares for the night, so drunken driving accidents were kept to a minimum. Police were also out in full force to insure no one went beyond their limit behind the wheel. Because of the combined efforts, car accidents due to drinking were rare, and very few people provoked an arrest by erratic behavior or violence.
Since Christmas day, Shannon grew flustered when Scott was near her. He was polite, not pushing himself at her or making suggestive remarks. It was as if he were waiting for her to make a move, no less. They were getting along very well, which seemed to please Brian tremendously. His respect for Scott's professional skills, combined with a personal liking for the man, made him ideal in Brian's eyes. He kept his thoughts to himself, however, preferring that his stubborn daughter make her own decisions.
Shannon threw herself into preparations for the New Year’s party. Friends of the family were being invited, as well as working associates of the two Larkin brothers from the lumber yard and the mining company. Several guest rooms were made up on the second and third floors. Shannon helped her mother and Aunt Denise prepare snacks and hot dishes for the gathering. The cabinets were well stocked with liquor and other beverages, and the house was cleaned from top to bottom: polished, dusted, scrubbed, swept and vacuumed. Shannon persuaded Dana to spend the night, giving her a room on the fourth floor.
Early in the afternoon before the party, Scott approached Shannon in the kitchen as she arranged a tray of cheese and crackers. She looked up at him, an expectant smile on her face. "Hi," she said. "Want a cracker?"
Scott accepted the snack and sat down next to her at the kitchen table. "Do you have any free time this afternoon?" he wanted to know.
"I'm just about done. Why? What do you have in mind?"
"Sean told me he took a couple of the snowmobiles out of the garage this morning," he replied, meeting her gaze. "Would you like to go for a ride with me?"
She brightened. "I'd love to, what a marvelous idea." Wiping her hands on a tea towel, she said: "In fact, I'm ready now. I'll put on some warmer clothes and meet you outside."
"If I'd known you'd be so eager for my company, I’d have asked sooner," Scott teased her, his sleepy eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Don't be so sure of yourself, Mr. Page." Shannon said lightly, standing up. "I'm just going along for the ride, nothing more."
His face fell. "Really?"
She laughed at his expression. "I'm kidding, honest. I really do enjoy your company, being that you're so mature and all. I'll be ready in ten minutes."
Scott watched her leave the room hurriedly. He continued to sit at the table, a warm smile on his face.
Shannon donned a pair of ski pants and a sweater, on top of which she put a heavy coat. She swept her hair up under a wool ski cap, tucking the strands inside. Inspecting herself in the bathroom mirror, she decided to add a touch of make-up to her eyes, but not too much. Satisfied, she went downstairs to meet Scott.
"You look like a polar bear," Scott exclaimed as they climbed onto the snowmobile, which was parked in front of the garages. "How many layers of clothes do you have on?"
"Just three," she giggled, sitting behind him.
Looking over his shoulder at her, he asked: "Are you ready?"
"Yes."
"Then hang on to me," he warned. "I like to go fast."
She wrapped her arms around his middle section and pulled closer. "Please don't go too fast," she pleaded. "It scares me."
He chuckled. "If I go fast, you might hang onto me that much tighter." He started the motor of the snowmobile, revving the engine loudly to emphasize his words.
She blushed behind him, not missing the meaning of his statement. As he took off, she did indeed hang on tighter. She rested her cheek on the side of his arm and watched the direction he was taking.
He propelled the snowmobile behind the mansion and started climbing a hill behind the house. He revved the motor again and picked up speed. Shannon squealed and hung on closer to him. She felt the vibration of laughter in his body.
She was exhilarated, the clean, fresh air overwhelming her senses. The sky was blue and clear, the sun shining brightly over the entire estate. Despite the cold, Shannon felt warm inside. Warm and content. It seemed whenever she was around Scott she felt secure. He was self-assured and confident, so he made her feel that way, too. His consideration and kindness toward her made her heart flutter. Whenever he stared at her with his sleepy hazel eyes, her knees went weak, almost like jelly.
Her thoughts continued to wander as the snowmobile labored up the hill. She had to be cautious about her burgeoning feelings, she warned herself. She once felt the same way about Michael Sullivan and David Bonham. And look where they were now. The thought chilled Shannon to the bone. Was that to be the pattern of all her relationships with men? One goes insane and kills the other one? What could befall the next person she cared for? Would the next one be Scott Page? The prospect did not displease Shannon, much to her surprise but she was not being fair to herself or Scott. He was different. He was nothing like Mike or David. He was stronger than either of them, perhaps because he was older or maybe because he was such a perfectionist in so many ways. He had a certain magic about him. He was dedicated to his work, often so absorbed in his profession that nothing else existed in his mind. Shannon smiled wryly. She knew she was much the same way.
However, when work was over, Scott completely changed. It was then Shannon noticed he focused most of his attention on her. She wondered if it was indeed because he never went out and saw other women. Was she just a convenience for the time being? The thought nagged her. What right did she have to expect anything else? She had no claim on him, although he fascinated her. Putting such complex issues from her mind for the moment, she decided to enjoy each day as it came, no more and no less.
Scott parked the snowmobile on the hill overlooking the estate. He shut the motor off and stepped to the ground. He turned to her. "It's beautiful up here," he told her.
Shannon, her cheeks a rosy red from the cold, agreed. "It seems farther away than it actually is." She stood up and stepped onto the crunchy snow. Rubbing her nose, she laughed. "But my face is numb."
He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket and offered one to her. They stood together, looking at the view from the hill. She saw smoke billowing out of the many chimneys at the mansion. Beyond that, to the right and much farther away and harder to view was the city of Larkin.
She tossed her half-smoked cigarette to the ground. Glancing at Scott, she asked: "Are you ready for some exercise?"
He looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"
Grinning, she reached over and snatched the wool hat from his head. With a gleeful shriek, she took off running toward the opposite end of the hill.
With a good natured oath, Scott started after her. "Come back kitten," he shouted without thinking. "I'll make you regret this."
"Kitten?" he thought to himself. "Where did that come from? I must have been thinking it all along, because it fits her: my little, sweet, sometimes viscous kitten."
Shannon laughed over her shoulder and continued running. All of a sudden, she was grabbed from behind and whirled around. The movement caught her off guard and she fell back, landing in the snow. Scott fell on top of her with a thud, taking her breath away.
Both of them were laughing uncontrollably. Scott jerked Shannon's ski hat from her head. Her ebony tresses fell about her in the snow. He grabbed a handful of the mass and brought it to his face, inhaling deeply, his eyes on her.
"Your hair smells wonderful," he said in a low tone. The laughter left both of them. Now they were serious, staring at one another intently, as if frozen in time. She was acutely aware of him on top of her, although with all the clothes between them it was impossible to feel the hard leanness of his body. Her breathing became shallow as she stared at him. She simply could not will herself to move away.
"I've wanted to hold your hair to my face for a long time," he said hoarsely, his eyes unflinchingly on her.
"Have you really?" she whispered, watching him inhale the fragrance of her hair.
Scott nodded gravely. Then he dropped her hair back into the snow. Reaching up, he ran his hand gently over her mouth and chin, tracing his finger to her cheeks, nose and eyes. She remained still, unable to move. She felt an incredible burning in the pit of her stomach, like a dozen butterflies were fluttering around inside her. It was pleasurable and painful at the same time. Her heart started to beat faster, making her light-headed and weak.
"You know I'm going to kiss you, don't you?" he asked softly.
She nodded slowly, unable to reply. Her mouth felt leaden, almost frozen in anticipation.
He bent his head down and began kissing her, very gently at first, almost as if he were testing her reaction to him. Feeling her acceptance, he pulled her closer, his hands in her hair. His mouth seared her, burning hotly as his tongue met hers. She closed her eyes and abandoned her will. She wrapped her arms around his neck, responding with all the passion she felt for him. She had a sense of being lost, of floating in a misty place, but Scott was holding her tight. The security he provoked in her was warm and overpowering. He was there, and so strong. She could smell his male scent, clean and appealing, and entirely his own. She ran her hands through his hair, wanting to touch him, wanting to know how he felt . . . . . .
Scott was gradually losing his self-control. Shannon's eager response took him aback at first. He didn’t expect her to welcome him so passionately. Her mouth was warm, her tongue soft and caressing. He sensed all his energy draining away. This was too incredible, even for him . . . he heard a roaring in his ears. Annoyed, he reluctantly pulled his face away from Shannon's, her kiss branded on his mouth. He stared down at her, his sleepy eyes glazed alight with bright flames. Her mouth was red and swollen from their kissing. She returned his gaze steadily, without reservation.
"I think someone is about to join us," she said at length, her voice trembling.
Scott groaned. "Damn them to hell, whoever it is!"
She giggled. "We’d better get up. It could be my father or brother, or worse, my cousins Kevin and Liam."
Slowly, Scott pulled himself up, not able to tear his eyes away from her. Offering her his hand, Shannon took hold and stood up, brushing the snow from her backside.
"Don't hide your hair under the hat," he said urgently.
"Okay," she replied uncertainly, pulling the cap over her head but leaving the black tresses falling to her waist. Taking her hand, Scott led her back to the snowmobile.
Peering down the hill, she said: "I think it's Sean."
Scott growled. "He has a habit of interrupting us, doesn't he?"
She looked at him, but he was smiling. He still had a hold of her hand. Now he pulled her toward him until her face was only an inch away from his. "You’re beautiful, Shannon," he said huskily. "You’re a witch who has cast a spell on me." He kissed her quickly but gently on the lips.
She laughed nervously, moving away from him. He was too intent on her, and it was beginning to scare her. Trying to adopt a light tone, she quipped: "Witch, am I? I thought I heard you call me kitten. So, which is it, Page? Witch or kitten?"
He lightened. "You're both, I think," he teased her. "You've been sent to test my masculine control."
"Is that so?" she retorted, eyes twinkling. "Masculine control, is it?"
He nodded. "Yes, kitten, very masculine."
Shannon blushed at his suggested meaning. "Well," she said, looking at him innocently. "I'm just a poor little kitten teenager being pursued by a dirty old man. I haven't done a darn thing."
He rolled his eyes comically. "You haven't done anything intentionally, no." He paused, his eyes holding a far away, almost sad expression. "I have to admit it's my fault. You've crept up on me, woman."
He sounded so serious. "How have I crept up on you?" she wanted to know.
Scott tried to evade her question. "It's nothing, really. I think the cold air has gone to my head."
Shannon had no chance to pursue the subject as Sean roared over the top of the hill and came to a stop next to them. After he turned off the snowmobile, he removed his leather gloves and ski shades.
"Sorry if I'm butting in," he said cheerfully, looking at his sister.
"You're not," she said quickly.
"Yeah, I'll bet," Sean said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "I drove all the way up here to tell you I'm going into Larkin City to get Marianne for the party. Would you like me to pick up Dana while I'm in town?"
"Oh, would you, Sean? I'd really appreciate it," Shannon said, trying to make her voice sound casual.
Apparently, her attempt to sound normal failed. Sean looked at her with a gleam in his eyes. "Okay, I'll pick her up," he said. "I should be back home around five o'clock. Hold the drinks for me." He started the snowmobile. Winking at his twin, he shouted over the motor: "Carry on!"
Shannon watched him roar off down the hill. Turning to Scott, she noticed he was again staring at her in his intent fashion but was also looking sheepish.
"I'm sorry," he said with difficulty. "If I offended you earlier by kissing you . . .”
"Is that what you think? That I was offended?" she demanded.
He shrugged. "I'm not sure. Whether you realize it or not, you're a very hard person to read."
She walked over to him and took his hand. "I was not offended," she assured him softly. "I kissed you back, didn't I? I'm not sorry in the least."
Scott smiled, slightly embarrassed. "I'm glad. I'm not really sorry, either. See what you've done to me?" Inside, he was a quivering mass although he did well to hide it from her. Her affect on him was astounding. He made her feel like a clumsy school boy on his first date. Strangely, the thought did not irritate him in the least.
"Oh bother," she said. "I'm just a punk kid. A kitten, you said. I don't do anything to you." Tugging at his hands, she suggested: "Let's go back to the house and get something warm to drink."
"Okay, okay," he replied, light-hearted again. "But you do the fixing."
She smiled broadly. "I'll be glad to."
The ride down the hill was uneventful. Scott maneuvered the snowmobile into the garage. He parked alongside Sean's snow vehicle, which rested between the estate pick-up truck and the wall of the garage. After Scott shut off the motor, she stepped gingerly to the ground. She flattened herself against the truck to make room for him to pass by. Instead of going past her, he sandwiched himself between Shannon and the snowmobile. His body was against hers, his knees pinned to her thighs.
She drew in her breath, looking at him. He appeared to be serious, his face like granite stone, his eyes wide and staring into hers. Suddenly, a moan escaped his lips, and he buried his face into her hair, his hands grasping her hips.
She wrapped her arms around him. He raised his head, looking at her in wonder. He started kissing her again, this time roughly. She reveled in it, but in the back of her mind she was becoming frightened. "Oh, Shannon, Shannon," he mumbled into her lips, pulling her hard against him, his mouth penetrating hers savagely.
Suddenly, she pushed away from him. In a breathless voice, she pleaded: "Enough, Scott. I can't handle . . . I mean, it's too much for me to take in at the moment. I've never felt anyone desire me the way you do. It's so . . . overwhelming."
He apologized at once. "I know, Shannon. I lost my head for a minute." He straightened himself. "It's just . . . you have to realize I find you very desirable. I'm a man, and it's not easy." Faltering, he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry."
She touched his face with her hand. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Scott. I'm just not ready for all of this. You overwhelm me. I'm trying very hard to understand what's happening, but it hasn't come to me yet. I'm a bit confused. I honestly don't have the slightest notion how to go about this . . ."
He smiled softly. "Don't worry, Shannon. I'm a very patient man. I'm not some kid out for a bit of fun, I'm a man. Just do what you have to do until you're comfortable. That's all that matters."
She sighed with relief. He was so understanding, so mature, so unlike anyone she had ever met. Putting a cheerful smile back on her face, she said: "How about that hot drink?"
"That sound good," he said warmly. "Let's go."
She followed him out of the garage. As they started walking toward the house, Shannon noticed he was keeping a safe distance from her. With a playful smile, she reached over and grabbed his hand.
"Hand holding isn't so mind-boggling," she told him teasingly. "Do you mind?"
He gazed at her softly. "Not at all, kitten, not at all."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SHANNON DRESSED WITH SPECIAL care that night. She wore her best pair of black slacks, and donned a black silk shirt she had recently bought in Larkin City. She left her hair long and flowing, with a bright yellow carnation tucked behind her left ear. Abandoning the idea of wearing high-heeled shoes, she chose instead a pair of flat-soled Japanese dress slippers with red dragons embroidered on each big toe.
"I must have a fetish with red dragons," she thought to herself as she finished putting the finishing touches on her make-up. She rarely wore cosmetics, but tonight she used eyeliner and blush. With a smile at herself in the mirror, she added a touch of rust-colored lipstick to her mouth.
She went to Dana’s room, which was two doors down on the same side of the corridor. Dana had on a pair of cream-colored pants and a beige sweater, her black hair pinned behind her head and a small amount of silver shadow applied to her eyes. Shannon was surprised by how lovely Dana looked when she made the effort.
Grinning, Dana said: "Since your foxy brother found himself someone worth keeping, I decided to make a play for your cousin Liam instead. Or maybe Kevin will be open to suggestions."
Shannon laughed. "You're impossible. Why do you want a Larkin male? They're a lot of trouble, I warn you."
Dana snorted. "I'm not out to tag one permanently, make no mistake about that. However, Liam - or Kevin – are more than likely good in bed. Rumors do float in Larkin City about their individual prowess, you know."
Shannon reddened at her friend's remark. "Dana," she reprimanded. "You're shameless. Is that all you think about?"
"It sure is," Dana replied bluntly. "When you don't get it very often, you do tend to think about it a lot."
"Well, I don't . . . . ."
"I know, you're weird," Dana teased. "I've said it before. You have to be the only virgin left in Larkin City, but from what you’ve told me about Scott Page, your purity will end soon."
"It's not like that," Shannon protested. "I really like him a lot, but I just can't . . . well, you know. Not yet."
Dana shook her head. "You baffle me. I got a good look at Scott when Sean brought me to the mansion this afternoon. Sean introduced us. Scott is absolutely gorgeous, Shan. He's great, in fact. Are you crazy? Don't you know older men know all sorts of erotic things? He looks like a man of experience to me. I don't imagine you'd be too disappointed with him, even for your first time."
"Don't you dare tell anyone what I've told you about him," Shannon pleaded. "You know, that I think he's cute and how well he kisses." She leaned her head back. "He thrills me to my toes." She righted herself again, the frantic tone in her voice returning. "Promise me you won't say anything."
Dana looked hurt. "You know me better than that."
Shannon put her arm around her friend and apologized. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm just so awfully confused by Scott. One minute I'm positive he's showing me attention because there are no other women around to catch his eye. Then the next minute I'm thinking he really does like me because of the way he stares at me all the time. I don't know . . ." She shook her head. "Oh, Dana, I do know that his embrace is so warm I could melt away in it . . ."
Dana grabbed her friend by the arm. "I'll tell you what. Since I'm the outsider, I'll play the role of observer. I'll watch how he acts and talks with you as compared to others in the room. I may look like a dumb country maid, but I’m pretty damned accurate when I observe someone close enough. I can tell if he's putting on an act, or if he's serious."
Shannon's eyes brightened. "You'd do that for me?" she asked hopefully.
"Of course I would," Dana said. "After all the crap you've been through the last little while, part of which is my fault, I owe you one."
"Don't start on that," Shannon said. "You are not to blame for Mike’s behavior. If you hadn't introduced us, he would have found some other way to meet me. Let's just forget about him tonight. I want to put that episode of my life to rest for good. Okay?"
"You've got it,'" Dana replied, her eyes watering. Composing herself, she said: "Come on, let's go downstairs. I don't want to miss anything, especially Liam and Kevin."
Laughing, the two girls left the room.
* * *
BRIAN LARKIN TURNED OVER the drawing room to the younger crowd for New Year's Eve. The elder party-goers chose the living room as their designation. Gleefully, Liam placed a rock and roll record on the stereo in the drawing room, turning the volume loud. The house was decorated gaily with party favors, and every fireplace downstairs in the mansion was lit, casting a warm glow over the festive crowd. Liquor flowed freely, and boisterous laughter and talk echoed throughout the corridors.
Shannon noticed with pleasure that Scott chose to wear the black sweater she gave him for Christmas. He also wore dark dress pants and comfortable shoes. He was clean-shaven, looking completely refreshed. She giggled as she walked up to him. "People probably think we're both in mourning," she whispered in his ear. "We're the only ones wearing black."
Scott flashed a wide smile at her. "As long as people think we're together, I don't care. At least our minds are on the same wavelength regarding clothes." Leaning toward her, he added in a quiet voice: "Actually, I hid in your closet earlier and watched you dress, so I'd know what to wear to match you."
Her eyes widened. "You did?"
"No, silly," he scoffed at her, laughing. "I’m just kidding. If I’d seen you dressing, you wouldn't have gotten very far, kitten."
Blushing to the roots of her hair, she scolded him. "You're just like Sean and Dana. They only have one thing on their minds."
"With you around, what else could I possibly be thinking of?" he countered.
Deciding to ignore his remark, Shannon led Scott to the sideboard and made him a whisky sour. He accepted it gratefully, winking at her.
Dana approached them. "You ought to see who just arrived," she said in wonder. "I've never seen her before. She looks like a model."
Shannon glanced toward the drawing room doorway and drew in her breath. There stood one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen. She was tall and slender, with feathery blonde hair that fell to her shoulders. She had high cheekbones and an aristocratic manner about her. She was wearing a blue mini-skirt with knee-high black boots, a white mink coat draped over her arm.
Scott went pale. Shannon noticed he was suddenly uneasy. She looked at him. He was staring at the strange woman, his eyes flashing with anger.
"Do you know her, Scott?" Shannon asked him.
He nodded stiffly. "Yes, I do. She's an old friend of mine from New York, but I certainly didn’t invite her to the party."
The woman walked across the room, her eyes on Scott. She glided with style and elegance, not hurrying her steps for anyone. Her gaze flickered to Shannon, but then returned her attention to Scott.
"Hello dear," the woman said enthusiastically as she came to stand in front of him. "Are you surprised to see me?" With one step she leaned forward, hugging him and planting kisses on his face.
He disengaged himself from the woman's arms with one quick movement. The woman stepped back, her mouth open in dramatic shock.
"Scott," she said hesitantly. "Aren't you glad to see me? I thought you would be, since you missed Christmas. I brought a present for you."
"Did I invite you?" Scott asked the woman through clenched teeth.
She looked confused. "Well, no, but I thought . . ."
"You thought wrong this time," he broke in abruptly. "If I’d wanted you here, I would have asked you."
Shannon stepped forward. "Please, Scott, it’s okay," she said. "We have plenty of extra rooms. It won't be a problem if she stays."
Scott looked at Shannon in surprise. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Why don't you introduce us?"
Shaking his head, Scott said politely: "Shan, this is Anita Howard. Anita, this is Shannon Larkin."
Shannon froze. Was this the "A. Howard" who wrote Scott from New York several weeks ago? Meeting the woman's eyes, she was shocked to see resentment lurking there - directed at her. Shannon looked closer at Anita. She was obviously much older than Scott, although the age lines around her mouth did little to detract from her stunning beauty.
Forcing herself to smile, Shannon said civilly: "How do you do, Miss Howard?"
"I'm just fine, thank you," she replied coldly. "I imagine you've been keeping Scott occupied, but you don't have to worry about that now. I'll be taking good care of him tonight."
Shannon felt like she had been slapped in the face. Scott turned red with rage. "Anita," he barked. "I’m not your property. I’ve gotten along quite well without you."
"I'll bet you have," Anita said with a hint of sarcasm. Her spiteful gaze fell upon Shannon. "I’m sure you’ve been quite entertained by this child. She's much too young for you, Scott. I thought you'd like to have a real woman for a change."
Scott was so angry he looked ready to explode. Shannon was stunned by the woman's verbal assaults. She felt as if her insides were being torn out. Anita must be Scott's girlfriend. Shannon was furious. Scott had merely been playing with her. Since his flashy girlfriend lived so far away, he whiled his time with her to ease the boredom, hoping she would fall into bed with him, another easy conquest.
Shannon was humiliated. She had to get out of the room, away from Scott and the hateful woman. She wanted to hide. Swallowing hard, she mumbled: "Excuse me, I have to leave for a minute. Please enjoy yourselves." She brushed past Scott and hurried out of the room, ignoring his calls after her.
She made her way directly to her room, avoiding the other guests. Once inside, she shut the door behind her and leaned against the frame. Tears streamed down her face, unchecked. How could she have been so stupid? She fell for Scott's charm like the eager virgin she was. He was probably laughing at her right now. Her only consolation was that she had not gone to bed with him.
Sniffling, Shannon walked over to the couch, sinking down on the cushions. She wiped the tears out of her eyes, smearing mascara all over her cheeks. She could never face him again. Never. He had shamed her – betrayed her, hurt her. How could he do this to her?
Then she sat up straight. What was the matter with her? She was acting like a child. She had no claim on Scott Page. She had thought there was something special between them, but she was wrong. It was all in her imagination. She almost laughed out loud. She was feeling hurt and betrayed by something she wished happened. Scott had not committed himself to her, said nothing of love in her ears. She was hurt because of that, she reasoned. She had developed a teenage crush on him, nothing more.
Feeling a bit better, Shannon went into her bathroom and fixed her make-up. She would go back downstairs and join the party. It was a night to celebrate the New Year, not a night for depressing recriminations.
She heard her sitting room door open and close. She walked out into the bedroom. It was Dana.
"Are you okay, Shan?" Dana asked in a concerned voice, walking toward her friend.
Shannon nodded. "I'm fine. I was just on my way back downstairs. I had to fix my make-up."
Dana sat on Shannon's bed, rolling her eyes. “You missed quite a scene in the drawing room."
"What happened?" Shannon asked quickly.
"After you left the room, Scott tried to follow you," Dana began. "He was really agitated, but that woman - Anita - grabbed him and started shouting. She demanded to know if Scott was sleeping with you. She was absolutely livid. Scott tried to get free of her, but she kept yelling at him. She said if he valued their relationship he'd go back to New York with her. He told her to go to hell, and tried to leave the room again. That's when Anita stood right in front of him and shrieked: ‘You're in love with that little bitch, aren't you?' Scott was dead silent for a long time. Then he said, in a real quiet voice: ‘I believe I am. I think it took seeing you again to make me realize her feelings are more important to me than yours.' Well, Anita went wild. She was red in the face, in a real rage. She started slapping Scott, screaming that he was a heartless bastard. Scott grabbed her by the arms and flung her back into a chair."
Dana paused, out of breath.
"This is like a scene out of a soap opera," Shannon snapped. "Are you sure you're not making the whole scenario up in your head?"
"I swear it, Shannon," Dana insisted. "I'd never lie to you."
Shannon looked sheepish. "I know. I'm sorry. Well? Then what happened?"
"By this time your father came into the room to see what all the shouting was about," Dana started.
Shannon grabbed her head. "Oh my God, not Daddy. Oh, Jesus."
"Let me finish," Dana said. "Scott was very embarrassed. He apologized to your father and introduced Anita to him. Then he said he was taking Anita back to the airport, that he was sorry for the entire disturbance. Your father accepted that, and even offered to take Anita to the airport himself. Scott declined the offer and said he would do it himself, that he had some things to discuss with Anita. Your father said fine and left the room. Then Scott turned to me and said: ‘Please tell Shannon not to go anywhere. I have to talk to her when I get back.' I said okay.
"He then took Anita by the wrist, half-dragging her out of the house. She was crying and pleading with him to forgive her. He told her to shut up, that he was sending her back to New York. I heard him say, ‘If you've driven that girl from me, I'll find you and strangle you with my bare hands!' That's when they went out the front door and were gone."
Shannon sat on the bed with Dana, her face thoughtful. How easy it would be to believe Scott was in love with her. She shook her head. No. She refused to accept it. She would never let him betray her again.
She rose. "I've heard enough," she said quietly. "Let's go back downstairs and get drunk."
Dana touched her friend's arm. "Remember I said I'd watch you and Scott together? Well, I was watching you until that crazy bitch showed up. Do you want my opinion on the entire matter?" Before Shannon could protest, Dana held up her hand and continued. "I think Scott Page is crazy about you. When that woman arrived, he didn't exactly welcome her with open arms. He totally rejected her and is even sending her back home as we speak. Do you think he loves her?" Dana shook her head. "I don't think so. If he did, he wouldn't have treated her that way. Just look at the way he treats you, Shan. He is warm and gentle and considerate. His eyes never left your face for two seconds if he could help it. I'm telling you, Virgin Mary, the man is in love with you. And it ain't a wham-bam kind of love, either. . . ."
Shannon squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't want to hear anymore," she said firmly. "I refuse to believe it, Dana. So let's just drop it, okay?"
"But, Shan . . ."
"Drop it, Dana," Shannon snapped. "I don't want to listen to any more. I'm going back to the drawing room to get completely bombed. Are you coming with me?"
Dana nodded agreement, a sad look on her face. She felt it wiser not to talk about Scott Page with Shannon anymore, at least not tonight. She stood up. "Let's go, then," she tried to sound cheerful. "I still have to corner Liam - or Kevin - tonight."
Shannon smiled faintly at her friend. "Maybe someone will get lucky in this house tonight."
* * *
SCOTT WAS ANGRIER THAN he had ever been before. He simply could not believe Anita had done such a thing to him. It was out of character for her. After leaving the mansion, he practically shoved her into the rental car she had driven from the airport. She was sobbing, pleading with him to listen to her. Instead, he got into the driver's seat and started the engine. In a rage, he rammed his fist onto the dashboard, cursing her. "God damn you. What right did you have coming here uninvited? I told you not to come, for Christ's sake. Are you just plain stupid?"
"Scott, listen to me," Anita begged. "Remember all the times I visited you on job sites in the states? You never seemed to mind then. Why should I think any differently now? Why are you so upset?"
"All those other times I invited you to come and see me, didn't I?" he asked coldly.
"Yes," she stammered. "But I . . ."
"Did I invite you this time?"
"No."
"Why in the hell are you here then?"
When Anita did not answer him, he shoved the car in drive and pulled away from the house. He had not bothered to grab a coat in his haste, and he was cold. He flipped on the car heater.
Anita started sniffling. In a timid voice, she finally asked him: "Don't you want to see me anymore?"
Scott glared at her. "No, I don't, Anita. Not in the way you want."
She gasped, taken off guard by his response. She wasn't expecting him to reject her. True to her nature, she recovered quickly. "If I ask you something, will you answer me honestly?"
"I'll try," he replied curtly.
"Are you in love with Shannon Larkin?"
"Yes, I am. Like I told you, I finally realized it tonight."
"Does she know how you feel?"
"No," Scott snapped. "And thanks to your performance, she may never let me talk to her again." He hit his hand on the steering wheel. "Damnit, she has to listen to me."
Anita hung her head. "I'm sorry, Scott. I really am. I didn't realize what was going on at first, but when I walked into that room tonight and saw you with her I could tell right away she was different for you. I was jealous, Scott."
He sighed, glancing at her. "Why in the hell were you jealous? We've had an open relationship for years. Why the jealousy now?"
Anita shook her head. "It's not the kind of jealousy you think it is. What caused my envy was the way you were looking at her, Scott. You’ve never looked at me like that, or anyone else I've seen you with. It wrenched my heart. I knew anything you felt for me was nothing compared to her . . ." Pausing, she bit her lip, her voice cracking. "It's the kind of look I haven't seen too many times in my life. It was a look of . . . absolute devotion. It was like nothing else existed for you except her. And she was looking at you the same way. I just cracked up. I saw everything I ever had with you dissolving before my eyes."
He grimaced. "Look, Anita, I'm sorry," he said uneasily, not really caring about her feelings at the moment. "I didn't plan any of this. I didn't leave you in New York last November with it in my head to come here and fall hard on my ass for a nineteen-year-old. It happened, that's all I can say. And I'm sorry if it hurts you."
She was smiling now, despite her tears. "Somehow, I'm elated you've found her. At least I know you'll be happy. I was just hoping for a little more time with you."
Scott groaned. "You say I'll be happy? I just pray Shannon will listen to what I have to say without throwing something at me."
Anita looked lovingly at him. "If she doesn't listen to you, she's crazy. I'd give anything to hear you tell me you were in love with me. I think she'll listen, Scott. She’s probably going to be angry for awhile, but she'll listen. What is so ironic about this situation is that you are the only man I’ve ever really loved. You're a stud in bed and you have a wonderful personality to go along with that. Plus you’re a good friend. I've always valued you above anyone else. I'm going to miss you."
Scott was silent as he parked the car at the Larkin City Airport. He helped Anita with her baggage, and walked her through the airport. "There’s a flight to New York City in one hour," he told her. "That's not too long for you to wait by yourself, so I'm going back to the mansion."
Anita touched his arm as they walked into the waiting area at Gate 3. "Thank you, Scott," she said, her eyes misting. "I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused. Please tell Shannon that, too. If you ever feel like talking, you know my number."
Scott hugged her lightly. "I'll see you. Take care." He turned on his heel and walked away from her.
Anita watched him go, her face sad. He was walking out of her life and she knew it. She sat down wearily in the waiting lounge. Setting her own feelings aside for a moment, she had a hunch that the depth of emotion running between Scott and Shannon was bigger than both of them put together, and neither of them realized it yet.
* * *
SHANNON WAS GETTING PLEASANTLY drunk with Dana, Kevin, Liam, Sean and Marianne Chamberlain. They were sitting around the fireplace in the drawing room. Kevin persuaded a friend to manage the Coven for the night so he could celebrate the New Year with his family.
When Shannon and Dana returned downstairs, everyone was studiously tactful in not mentioning the scene between Scott and Anita Howard. Shannon said nothing of the matter, and threw herself into the party with vigor. However, every time she heard the front doors open and close she jumped. So far Scott had not returned. What did she care anyway? She asked herself angrily. But she did care, and that angered her further.
At ten-forty-five, the front doors opened and shut again. Shannon stiffened. She glanced at the doorway of the drawing room and felt a rush flow through her stomach. There he was! And he was staring directly at her. Scott looked cold, rubbing his hands together for warmth and then blowing into them. Without a word, he strode to the sideboard and poured himself a generous helping of brandy. He walked over to the group and stood with his back to the fire. He took a large gulp of brandy and looked at the silent faces in front of him, who were watching him warily.
"Don't stop talking on my account," Scott said mockingly. "I'm freezing to death. As soon as I warm up, I'll be more sociable." He turned to Sean. "Can you follow me to the airport tomorrow in your truck? I need to return the rental car I drove back up here."
Sean nodded. "I'll be glad to. Just say the word."
Awkwardly, the group started talking again, except for Shannon. She kept her eyes riveted on Scott. He was looking right back at her over the rim of his brandy glass, his eyes expressionless. He drained the rest of the brandy and set his glass down on the mantle.
"Shannon," he said gruffly.
She raised her eyebrows. "Yes?" she replied, her voice leaden with sarcasm. "I'm right here as you can plainly see."
Scott's eyes darkened. "I have to talk to you privately. Right now."
"I'm sorry," she said, with exaggerated politeness. "As you can see, I'm rather busy at the moment . . ."
"Now!" he growled, his eyes flashing dangerously.
Shannon glared at him. The group fell silent again, their attention focused on the couple. For once, neither Sean nor her cousins were coming to her defense. They refused to meet her eyes.
"Do you need your brother or your cousins to talk for you?" Scott snapped, sensing her thoughts. "I'm not a monster, Shannon. I have something I would like to explain to you."
Her eyes squinted in anger. "I told you, I'm busy. Now leave me alone."
Without a word, Scott strode over to her swiftly. He grabbed her by the wrists and dragged her to her feet. He then proceeded to pick her up in his arms.
“Let me down at once," she hissed into his face.
"My kitten has her claws out," Scott stated flatly. "You're going to hear what I have to say, whether you like it or not. If I have to force you to listen, I will."
Shannon ground her teeth together in annoyance. Because of the way he was holding her, his face was barely an inch away from hers. His sleepy hazel eyes never left her for a second. It was a struggle of two very strong wills, she realized. Finally, she spat at him: "Put me down and I'll listen to you. We don’t need another scene tonight. Let me down, I tell you. I'll listen to what you have to say."
Scott set her down promptly. She grabbed her drink off of the coffee table, her eyes defiant. "Well? Talk," she demanded.
"I want to talk to you in private," he grated. "Let's go upstairs."
She started to protest, but thought better of it. Turning to her twin and her cousins, she said scathingly: "Thanks a lot, guys. You'll have to excuse me for a minute."
Liam looked sheepish, while Kevin refused to meet her angry gaze. Sean dared to look at his twin sister. He shrugged his shoulders. "Scott is a bit too intimidating for us," he told her frankly. "Besides, he's not going to harm you."
With a look of disgust on her face, Shannon tuned back to Scott. "Where would you like to go?" she asked.
"Upstairs," he said curtly, taking her by the hand and dragging her behind him. She was growing more furious by the moment. Scott did not stop until he was on the fourth floor. He went into her sitting room, slamming the door shut behind them. He let go of her hand.
"Sit down," he commanded.
"I don't . . ."
"I said sit down," he fairly shouted at her.
Shannon decided to obey him. She sat down on the couch, watching him with a frown on her face. He stood in front of her, hands on hips. He looked so angry . . . what right did he have to be angry? She had done nothing to him. He was the one at fault for the evening's mess.
"Are you ready to listen to me?" he asked her.
"All ears," she quipped.
"Don't be a god damned smart ass," he warned her. "You're still young enough and little enough for me to take you over my knee and give you a good belting."
Her eyes grew large. She did not doubt he would do just that if she antagonized him further. She leaned back into the couch and propped her feet on the coffee table. "Sorry. Go ahead," she said quietly.
Scott started to pace in front of her, occasionally glancing at her. "I want to tell you about Anita."
"Oh Christ," Shannon swore. "Is that what you want to talk to me about?"
"No, it isn't. She is only a small part of it. For chrissakes, just listen to me."
She crossed her arms in front of her, a bored expression on her face. "Whatever you say," she said wearily.
"I’ve known Anita for about four years," he told Shannon, beginning to pace again. "I'll be honest and tell you we have slept together. I’m a man of thirty-three, and you won't find many chaste men around my age, unless they're priests. But it's not what you think with Anita. The only time I saw her was when I passed through New York. A few times she visited me on job sites in the states. Shannon, I have never been in love with her. We have more of a friendship than anything else."
Taking another deep breath, he continued: "Lately, however, she’s been hinting toward a more permanent relationship with me. I told her I wasn't interested in making any changes to our arrangement. This sort of drove her to desperate measures. When I didn't go to New York to be with her for Christmas she really panicked, and that's why she came here tonight. When I drove her back to the airport a little while ago, she told me to tell you she apologized for her behavior in your home. She said she realized when she walked in here tonight that it was over for her."
Shannon raised a questioning eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
Scott groaned, halting his pacing. He stood in front of her again. "Why do you think I didn't go to New York for Christmas?" he asked her impatiently.
"I'll be damned if I know. Why?"
"Because of you, kitten."
She was still puzzled. "Because of me?" she asked, amazed. "I still don't understand."
With a weary sigh, Scott came over to the couch and sat next to her. He positioned himself so that his hand held fast against the back of the couch, his knees touching her thigh. She did not move her feet from the coffee table, steeling herself against the tingling sensations in the pit of her stomach. What was he going to say?
Scott leaned toward her. The look in his eyes frightened her. The hazel color had darkened. His expression was serious. She began to tremble slightly.
"Shannon," he said softly. "I'm new at this. I've never done it before, so if I screw it up, be patient with me." He paused. "Can't you tell that I'm crazy about you? Can't you sense how much in love with you I am?"
Her mouth dropped open. In love with her? Her mind simply could not soak it in. She wasn't certain if he was being honest, or if he was playing some sort of cruel game with her. She wanted so much to believe him, but his words terrified her into speechlessness. His declaration also made her question her own feelings. How did she feel about him? Was it a passing fancy, or was it real? Would she forget about him in a month? She had her doubts. He was much too impressive to forget. She closed her eyes to escape his intent gaze. Was he really in love with her? She could not understand what he saw in her. He was older and much more experienced. Surely he preferred more mature women - like Anita – and not some nineteen-year-old girl. The notion was crazy.
"Shannon," Scott said. "I can see you analyzing this, like you do everything else. Why can't you just accept it?"
She looked at him blankly.
"Are you okay?" he asked in concern.
She looked at him, her eyes now filled with fear. "I don't know," she stammered. "I can't really believe . . ."
"Don't you believe what I just told you?" he asked sternly.
"I'm not sure."
He grabbed her gently by the shoulders. She dropped her feet to the floor from the coffee table. "Please believe me," he pleaded. "I meant every word I said. I’m in love with you. I didn't realize it until tonight. I’ve been nervous around you for weeks. I find myself thinking about you constantly, even when I try to work. That’s never happened to me before, never in my life. Tonight I discovered what my feelings are all about. When Anita walked into the house, my mind was completely on you, not her. I could have cared less she was even here. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?"
Shannon looked at him again, confusion in her eyes.
Scott drew back from her. "I think I've frightened you. You look like you've seen a ghost. Have I done all this too fast for you?" Peering at her, he added softly: "How do you feel about me, kitten?"
She moistened her lips nervously, her eyes darting around the room. "I'm not sure I can explain it to you so you'll understand . . ."
"Try me," he prodded her.
She glanced at him. "Okay. Do you promise you won't laugh at me?"
"I promise."
She began softly, as if she were afraid to speak. "Every time you kiss me, I feel so funny inside. Like . . . . Like . . ." she groped for the words she wanted to use. "Like a warm rush. It leaves me feeling so weak. But that's not it. I really enjoy talking with you, and I think you're funny and smart. I really admire the way you work. You take it so seriously, but then afterward you're so much fun. I love your smile, I love the way you look. I can't wait to see you every day, and I think about you constantly, too. How do I say this? You really matter to me. I can't imagine not having you in my life." She giggled. "Plus, you've got a great butt. I love your chest, too. One time you had your shirt on, but you'd forgotten to button the first button. Your chest is spectacular. I love hairy chests . . . . . ." She stopped, blushing. "Sorry, it must be the wine talking. I'm getting silly."
Scott was silent for a moment, his eyes seeming to size her up. Finally, he asked: "Do those feelings tell you anything?"
"I don't know," she said desperately. "It's all so crazy. I have no idea what it means. Honestly, if I did, I'd tell you."
He reached out a hand and caressed her jaw bone. "I think what you need is time," he told her. "You need to think about things and decide for yourself what they mean. Only you can decide what you want, but at least you know how I feel about it. Do you believe me?"
"I do believe you," she said slowly. "I really do, but I can't understand why."
Scott put his finger to her lips. Smiling, he said: "I'll tell you why someday, but not right now. I'm not crazy enough to expose my feelings to you entirely – not just yet, anyway."
"Thank you, Scott. I'm sorry I acted so stupidly."
"I probably would have reacted the same way if an old boyfriend of yours did what Anita did tonight," he admitted. He took hold of her hand and looked at her wristwatch. "It's two minutes after twelve," he said. "Can I kiss the new year in with you? I promise to behave."
Shannon smiled shyly. "Yes, you can kiss me."
With tenderness, he drew her into his arms and pulled her close. He lowered his lips onto hers, kissing her gently and slowly. She responded in kind, closing her eyes. True to his promise to behave, Scott moved away from after a moment.
"Thank you, Shannon," he said, his voice husky. "Why don't we go downstairs and join the others?"
She smiled. "Sean probably thinks you’ve dishonored me. He may be lurking out in the corridor waiting for us right now."
Scott laughed. "I'll have to have a serious talk with your twin brother one of these days," he declared, helping her stand up. "He's like a mother hen around you."
She grabbed his hand. "Let's go down before they drink all the liquor."
Scott allowed Shannon to precede him out of the room. He sighed as he walked along the corridor. He felt so much better, having told Shannon how he felt about her. With a frown, he realized it was up to her to make the next move.
Next: "The Twain Shall Meet" @ Thanksgiving >
