Читать книгу Family Feud - Barbara Boswell, Barbara Boswell - Страница 5

Halford took a deep breath. “Mr. McGrath, I’d like to introduce you to my daughter, Shelby.” He seemed to gulp for air. “Shelby, this is Garrett McGrath, the owner and CEO of the, uh, Family Fun Inns.”

Shelby stared at him. “Garrett McGrath?” Now it was her turn to gasp. Everyone in the high-end of the hotel industry knew that name—some considered it interchangeable with Mephistopheles.

Garrett nodded his head. “Your father said he told you something about our arrangement, about why and how I’ve come here to Halford House to learn all about the upscale hotel business from my betters.”

He glanced at Art. Poor Halford had cringed when he’d confessed the ruse he had cooked up to keep his daughter clueless regarding the sale. Garrett’s first reaction had been incredulity, then his sense of humor had kicked in. He’d been more curious than ever to meet the demonic daughter who’d driven her father to such lengths. And now he’d met her.

Garrett’s gaze slid over Shelby’s lithe figure, then back to her sultry mouth and flashing hazel eyes. “This should be an interesting experience, to say the least.”

“Interesting is hardly the word I’d choose,” Shelby replied coldly. “The entire arrangement is ridiculous.”

She was frustrated, exasperated. Didn’t her father understand? Garrett McGrath was mocking them. That gleam in his impossibly blue eyes was derision, not friendly mirth. “And I told my father so. Having you stay here to observe the way we run Halford House is a complete waste of your time, Mr. McGrath.” And ours, she added silently but implicitly.

Garrett arched his black brows higher. “Sounds like you’re implying that nothing I learn here will be of any use to me in running Family Fun Inns.”

“You know it won’t,” Shelby said tightly.

“I assume rich people have families and want to have fun, just like the patrons of the Family Fun Inns. So isn’t it possible that—”

“You’re deliberately goading me, Mr. McGrath,” Shelby cut in. “And I—”

“I’m just trying to learn from you, Your Highness.” It was Garrett’s turn to interrupt and he did so, grinning broadly. “So far, I haven’t learned much about running a swank joint like Halford House but I’ve learned that when you’re on the losing side of an argument, you take the offensive. Accusing me of goading you is a good diversionary tactic, although it didn’t work. You still haven’t convinced me why I shouldn’t be here to learn about serving the high and mighty.”

Shelby’s mouth tightened. “Are you always so argumentative, Mr. McGrath?”

“Always,” he assured her. “Usually, I’m even worse, but I’m on my best behavior today. I’m hoping to impress my superiors here at Halford House. How am I doing?”

Her father didn’t give her a chance to reply. “Please don’t take offense at anything Shelby says, Mr. McGrath. She’s wary of new acquaintances and...um...tries to test them. As for me, I’m happy and proud to share my forty-some years’ knowledge of the business with a man as brilliant and innovative as you.”

Shelby stared at her father as if he’d taken leave of his senses. “Dad, may I remind you that this is the Garrett McGrath who put a Family Fun Inn on the same island as the Blue Springs Resort, sending their property value and stock into a free-fall. Who built a Family Fun Inn practically next door to the Snow Bird Hacienda in Aspen and caused its patrons to flee the state. Whose Family Fun Inns and their faithful retinue of T-shirt shops, themed burger joints, frozen yogurt stands and souvenir junk places have taken over formerly quaint little towns and turned them into tourist traps. I can recite the names of them, beginning with—”

“Stop, you’re embarrassing me!” Garrett’s blue eyes taunted her. “There’s no need to tout the spectacular success of Family Fun Inns. Just basking in the glow of your admiration is praise enough.”

“I do not admire you and I’m certainly not praising you!” cried Shelby.

“You take the bait every time, don’t you, honey?” Garrett surveyed her lazily. “Oh, yes, working here with you the next couple of months is definitely going to be interesting.”

“Couple of months?” both Shelby and her father chorused in pure dismay.

“Why not?” Garrett shrugged. “I haven’t taken a vacation in ages. Of course, I stay at Family Fun Inns all over the country throughout the year, but that’s work, not a vacation. So I think I’ll take one here. Sort of a busman’s holiday, if you will. A high-end one.”

Shelby felt a peculiar panic ripple through her, growing stronger the more she contemplated the prospect of a steady daily diet of Garrett McGrath. “You can’t stay here, Mr. McGrath,” she blurted out.

“Shelby!” There was nothing well modulated or polished in the roar that Arthur Halford emitted as he glared at his daughter. “Mr. McGrath is our guest. Our honored guest. He is welcome here as long as he cares to stay.”

The smile Garrett flashed at Shelby set her teeth on edge.

“Thanks, Art. I’ll take that cottage you so graciously offered me earlier and settle in. Of course, I’ll be flying home to our corporate headquarters in Buffalo for a day or so every week to stay in touch, but with faxes and teleconferences, I’ll be able to manage things very well from down here.”

“Your corporate headquarters are in Buffalo?” Halford repeated with forced joviality. “I hadn’t realized that.”

“The first Family Fun Inn was in Niagara Falls,” Garrett explained. “My family had ended up in Buffalo, after living in a string of cities. We were sort of like Gypsies, traveling from place to place.”

“That certainly fits,” muttered Shelby. She could easily visualize caravans of McGraths descending on one world-class resort after another, fleecing them of their worth.

Her father shot her a quelling glance, then turned to Garrett. “Well, we’re delighted you are here at Halford House, Mr. McGrath.” Halford was once again the quintessential host welcoming his guest. “September is an ideal time to learn the ropes of running, um, a place like this. Our peak season is in winter and early spring when freezing weather up north brings our guests here to Port Key for some sun and warmth.”

“Summer is peak season for Family Fun Inns,” Garrett said, “although we do well during school holidays, especially Christmas break. Our inns are swarming with kids during school vacations.” He smiled. “Speaking as the oldest of nine, I think kids are great. There can never be too many of them around. What are your facilities for children here at Halford House?”

Shelby and her father exchanged uneasy glances. When he hesitated to reply, she stepped in to tackle the question. “We don’t get very many children here,” she admitted. She felt as if she’d been called to the principal’s office, condemned by a failing grade. “Many of our guests are older,” she hastened to explain. “Their children are grown, with families of their own. We do have a wonderful children’s boutique in our arcade of shops that is filled with unique gifts for doting grandparents to buy. It does very well,” she added lamely.

“I’ve seen some of the guests around here and they aren’t all grandparents,” Garrett challenged. “There are younger people staying here.”

“We have many childless, two-income couples who like to come here to relax.” Shelby wondered why she felt so defensive and was irked that she did. “Then, of course, there are the couples who do have young children but who come here to be alone.”

“Leaving the kids behind,” Garrett said flatly.

“Where is it written that parents can’t take a vacation without their children?” Shelby flared.

“Shelby, you’re talking to a man who has built a chain of motels dedicated to the proposition of parents vacationing with their children,” her father reminded her. “We sincerely respect your position, Mr. McGrath, and we admire your incredible success,” he added with a fulsome smile.

Her father sounded like a fawning sycophant! Shelby gaped at him. Could this be the same man who’d always expounded at length on the horrors of having to cater to guests under twelve? Who’d considered banning teenagers from the premises—unless they were working here at less than minimum wage. It was safe to say that Arthur Halford did not dote on children. Shelby could personally attest to that, having grown up as one of his own.

Garrett glanced at his watch. “I have some calls to make,” he announced abruptly. He grabbed his sport coat and headed toward the door.

“Shelby will escort you to your cottage,” Halford offered at once. “And she will be at your disposal until we meet for lunch at one. I have a table reserved on the terrace—if that meets with your approval?” He glanced deferentially at Garrett.

“Lunch on the terrace at one sounds good to me,” affirmed Garrett.

It didn’t sound good to Shelby. It was just ten o’clock, which meant that she was doomed to spend three whole hours with the insufferable Garrett McGrath before passing him along to her father. She couldn’t do it, Shelby decided.

She turned to her father. “Dad, as you know, you gave me this morning off and I’ve already made plans. I can’t possibly—”

“Change your plans,” her father ordered, glaring balefully at her. “In case you’ve forgotten, I am still the one to give orders around here and I am ordering you to devote yourself to Mr. McGrath’s service.”

He turned to Garrett, all smiles once more. “You’ll be staying in cottage 101,” he added, naming one of the largest, most elegant and newly refurbished cottages on the grounds. Like the rooms and suites in Halford House’s main lodge, the outlying cottages comprising the complex had the full range of hotel services.

“I’m sure you’ll feel quite at home there, Mr. McGrath,” Halford continued expansively. “Presidents and royalty have stayed in 101 and been very pleased with the facilities.”

“Presidents, royalty, and now a McGrath,” Garrett remarked as they left the office, Shelby trailing slightly behind him. He seemed to be laughing at his own private joke.

And the joke was on her, Shelby was certain of that. They passed Miss York’s desk and Garrett bade her a cheerful goodbye. Unsmiling, the secretary acknowledged him with a grim nod.

“At least Miss York is still in character,” Shelby muttered as they approached the main desk in the main lobby.

“According to your father’s description, so are you.”

Shelby asked for and received the keys to cottage 101, then strode briskly from the building into the bright Florida sunshine. She knew Garrett was ambling behind her and she paused to wait for him by a tall palm tree. She had to ask, she couldn’t put it off another minute. “What did my father say about me?” she demanded.

“That you’ve just returned from a ten-year stay in California among other things.” Garrett faced her squarely.

“And those other things are?”

He shrugged. Though it might surprise those who had previously accused him of heartlessness and lack of tact, he wasn’t about to tell her that her own father considered her as feral as a jackal. “He mentioned that you’re different from your sister Lacey, or Lynnie, or something like that.”

“Laney,” Shelby corrected. She was appalled that her father had been discussing her with this man. And if he’d been comparing her to Laney, she could well imagine which sister had fared the worst. “Her name is Maclane but she’s always been Laney.”

“Shelby and Maclane. Sounds like a law firm.”

“Garrett McGrath. Sounds like an aspiring country music singer.”

“Merely an aspiring singer?” Garrett complained mildly. “How about a country-music legend instead?”

Shelby shook her head. “An aspiring singer. One who never even gets to make a demo tape and ends up as a dishwasher at a Nashville diner.”

“Ouch! Okay, then Shelby and Maclane are a pair of disreputable ambulance chasers rather than a staid, established firm.”

Shelby scowled at him. “This is the most ridiculous conversation I’ve ever had.”

“Really?” Garrett shrugged. “It’s fairly typical for me.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” She glanced at him curiously. “Are you really the oldest of nine?”

“Sure am. In descending order—Glenn, Gracie, Fiona, Eilish, Devon, Caitlin, Brendan and Aidan. Are there just you and your sister Laney?”

“Just the two of us. She’s fourteen months younger than me,” Shelby said flatly.

“And she loves cute little dogs. You, on the other hand, eat them for breakfast. Metaphorically speaking, of course.”

Shelby groaned. “What else did my father tell you about me?”

“It wasn’t so much what he said as the way he said it. I admit that I don’t know the man very well, but from what I’ve seen so far, Arthur Halford is a first-rate hotelier, but definitely loses in the father sweepstakes.”

Shelby’s temper, too close to the surface around Garrett McGrath, flared once again. “I can’t believe you have the gall to criticize my father after he’s offered you the hospitality of Halford House and agreed to allow you a kind of on-the-job training in its operations.”

“He’s something of a dud as a dad, but you defend him,” Garrett observed. “You’re a very loyal daughter. Is that why you came back from California, Shelby? For the opportunity to work side by side with your father and—”

“Why do you ask?” she cut in sharply.

“I’m curious as to why you decided to return to Port Key and Halford House after living so far away for ten years. Your father claimed he didn’t know the reason, either, that you suddenly announced you were on your way back here.”

“My reasons for returning are personal and none of your business, Mr. McGrath,” Shelby said stiffly. She turned away from him, taking a path into the lush tropical gardens.

“If you make it a mystery, you’ll only encourage me not to give up until I know everything,” warned Garrett, right at her heels. “There’s nothing I like better than a challenge.”

“And all along I thought your favorite thing was slapping up dirt-cheap motels where they aren’t wanted.”

“It’s not the dirt-cheap motels snobs like you object to, it’s the people who stay in them. You don’t want working-class people, the lower and middle classes, anywhere around you.” Garrett moved closer and caught her wrist, bringing her to an abrupt halt. His blue eyes were glittering. “We do get some upper middle-class folks who want a good bargain and don’t care about status, but status and flashing big bucks are all you spoiled little rich girls and your cohorts care about. That and the thrill of excluding everyone who doesn’t meet with your rigid class standards of approval.”

“I’m not a snob!” Shelby protested. “And I’m certainly not spoiled. My parents paid for my education but they never showered me with presents or made me feel like I was better than anyone else.”

On the contrary, she usually felt she wasn’t as good. She flinched at the painful insight and pushed it away to resume her defense. “I’m twenty-seven years old and I’ve had to work hard to achieve everything I’ve accomplished from...” Her voice trailed off. “I don’t have to defend myself to you.”

“True,” agreed Garrett. “Although you seem to feel the need, don’t you?”

He had a point and she could think of no suitable reply. After all, why should she care what Garrett McGrath thought of her? If he wanted to believe she was an elitist snob, it shouldn’t matter to her at all.

His hand was still clamped around her wrist and Shelby jerked it free. She didn’t say another word as she led him through the gardens to the secluded grove where cottage 101 was artfully landscaped with an assortment of riotously colored flowers, bushes and shrubs. “Here’s the cottage, here’s your key.” She shoved it into his hand. “Goodbye, Mr. McGrath.”

“Not goodbye,” he countered. “According to your dear old dad’s explicit orders, you’re supposed to be at my disposal until I meet him for lunch.”

Shelby took a deep breath. “Mr. McGrath, you don’t like me any more than I like you. We’re incompatible, and you can’t possibly want to prolong the misery. Besides, you have phone calls to make. You said so in my father’s office.”

“I lied,” Garrett said bluntly. “I was getting bored listening to your father sucking up to me. And call me Garrett, because I refuse to call you Miss Halford, even though Miss York read me the riot act on proper terms of address here at Halford House.”

He inserted the key into the lock and pushed open the door. “And who says I don’t like you? I’m quite selective in choosing my enemies and I don’t know you well enough to consider you one.” He stepped inside the cottage. “Come on in,” he ordered, motioning her to follow him.

Shelby stood in the doorway and watched him prowl around the room like a restless tiger moving in on new territory. The living room was spacious and luxurious, a sunny, airy room with white wicker furniture, the color scheme Halford green and complementing shades of yellow and peach.

Garrett disappeared down a small hallway that Shelby knew led to the kitchen, bathroom and bedroom. Another turn to the right led to the larger master bedroom suite. Her mouth felt oddly dry and she remained in the doorway, her fists clenched tightly at her sides.

“Help yourself to something in the refrigerator, I’m sure it’s fully stocked,” Garrett called from the back of the cottage. “And close the door. You’re air-conditioning the state of Florida and wasting electricity.”

Leave, Shelby advised herself. Turn around and march out right now. She almost did it. But instead she stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She really had no choice. Garrett McGrath was unpredictable; he might simply go about his business after she’d left or he might call her father and report her defection.

And her father was a man capable of great wrath when things were not to his liking. Shelby was quite aware of that because much of what she did was not to his liking. But could pleasing Garrett McGrath possibly be to his liking? Shelby sat gingerly on the edge of the flowered chintz sofa and pondered that astonishing concept. Why was her father trying to ingratiate himself with Garrett McGrath?

She couldn’t buy her father’s fulsome declarations of respect and admiration for the man. Though she’d been living away from Arthur Halford since the age of seventeen, they’d maintained telephone contact and the occasional visit. She still knew her father well enough to know that he considered low-end, fast money-makers like Garrett McGrath the bane of the hotel industry.

“Ready?”

She was lost in thought and gave a startled gasp at the sound of Garrett’s voice. He was standing beside the arm of the sofa, towering above her. Shelby jumped to her feet and moved a safe distance away from him. He had changed into dark blue running shorts and a white cotton tank top similar to her own.

Shelby stole a sidelong, furtive glance at him. His legs were long and muscular and covered with dark, wiry hair. The tight shirt showcased his broad chest and shoulders and his hard, muscled arms. Her gaze slid up to his face, taking in his strong jaw and disturbingly sensuous mouth. Their eyes met, and for one long moment Shelby gazed into their dark, deep blue depths. She felt the frisson of sensual electricity surge between them and immediately turned away.

“You’re going to work out? We have an excellent exercise spa, all sorts of state-of-the-art workout equipment, a sauna, and a masseur.” She paused to breathe. She couldn’t seem to stop talking. “We also boast a fully—”

“I’m going to run on the beach. And since you’re under paternal command to stick to me like superglue, so are you.”

Shelby heaved a martyred sigh.

Garrett laughed. “Don’t even try to pretend this is some big sacrifice for you. You were on your way to run when your daddy summoned you to his royal headquarters.”

“How do you know what I was going to do?” Shelby challenged. “Are you now claiming to be psychic?”

“Just observant. I can tell by the way you’re dressed. You seem like the type who would make a point of dressing correctly for whatever you’re doing and wherever you’re going. So if you were going to play tennis, you’d be wearing tennis whites. If you were going to the exercise spa, you’d be in a bright spandex leotard and tights. If you were golfing, you’d—”

“All right, I get your point! I was planning to run on the beach,” she admitted crossly. “I try to run every morning, although this is later than usual for me.”

“Because your father gave you the morning off,” concluded Garrett. “Until he rescinded it and stuck you with me.”

Shelby shot him an exasperated glance. “Precisely.”

* * *

They jogged in silence along the wide white span of sandy beach, side by side, keeping a steady pace. There were a few bathers sunning themselves on Halford House canvas beach chairs. A lifeguard was on duty in a wooden kiosk but there were no swimmers in the ocean.

“I can tell you run every day,” Garrett said at last.

“How?” Shelby asked dryly. “By my impeccably correct attire?” She was sorry to break the silence that had grown almost companionable as they headed around a curve, out of sight of the Halford House facilities. A long expanse of deserted beach stretched before them.

“You’re not winded and you’re doing a nice job of keeping up with me,” stated Garrett.

“That’s funny, I was about to say the same thing about you.”

“I wasn’t patronizing you, I meant it as a compliment.”

Shelby gave him a saccharine smile. “Now why would I ever think otherwise?”

They lapsed into silence once more, jogging farther along the uninhabited beach. The only sounds to be heard were those of the surf breaking and the gulls crying. It was peaceful and quiet, and Shelby felt the tension begin to slowly drain from her, the exercise working its loosening magic.

“So, are you going to tell me what prompted your sudden return to Halford House?” Garrett’s voice shattered the peace.

Shelby tensed again. “I will if you’ll tell me why my father seems to have suddenly become your number one fan.”

Garrett grinned. “Suspicious about that, are you?”

“I’m not as stupid or gullible as you may think, Mr. McGrath.”

“Garrett,” he corrected. “And I don’t think you’re stupid or gullible at all. Quite the contrary.” He stopped running, and because she was at his disposal, Shelby stopped, too.

“I want to cool off. Let’s go swimming.” Garrett stooped to untie his running shoes.

“In the ocean?”

He looked up at her. “Where else?”

Shelby bit back a smile. It had been a stupid question, what with the ocean just a foot away. “I’m not going into the water.”

“Because you aren’t properly dressed for the proposed activity,” Garrett surmised. “I’m going to tell you something shocking, Shelby. You don’t have to wear a swimsuit to go into the water.”

“If you’re talking about taking an uninhibited skinny-dip in the ocean, forget it. I won’t do it. And don’t bother pointing out that my father has placed me at your services. My services do not include—”

“You’re awfully bossy,” Garrett complained. He’d already removed his own shoes and socks and had started to untie the laces of her shoes. He was close enough for his shoulder to brush her leg as he worked. Shelby gulped. The feel of his skin against hers and the scent of his clean male sweat evoked a sharp, hot pang deep within her.

Shelby closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She would not, could not, be attracted to this man. What she was experiencing was not sexual excitement but ragged nerves, caused by apprehension and anxiety and lack of breakfast, she assured herself.

When he tried to take off her shoe, she resisted the impulse to kick him and moved swiftly out of his reach. “So, I’m sure a staunch advocate of family fun like you must have a wife and children—stashed away in Buffalo, perhaps? And what will they think of your months’ long vacation away from them? Unless, of course, you intend to bring them to Halford House to join you in the cottage?”

Garrett rose to his feet. “Ah, the inevitable question. Am I married or not? That was a less than subtle approach, Shelby.”

“I wasn’t trying to be subtle.” Her cheeks were fiery red. “And I don’t care whether you are or you aren’t.”

“I see. You simply wanted to know how many towels to supply to the cottage. Well, I’ve never been married and I don’t have kids. Hmm, how can I make this more interesting...?” He paused. “I’ve got it. Thirty-six-year-old, single, white male likes frozen yogurt, burger joints and T-shirt shops—”

“Cheap souvenirs, taffy and fudge shops and family fun,” Shelby added. “Don’t forget to mention how you love to sit in front of a roaring fire, listen to rain on the roof and go for long walks on the beach.”

“I run on the beach, I get too hot sitting in front of a roaring fire, and the sound of rain annoys me. It means a ruined vacation. I prefer sun or snow, seasonable weather in seasonable places.”

They looked at each other and laughed. Their gazes locked and lasted after their laughter faded, crossing the intangible line into sensual awareness. Garrett’s breath caught in his throat. Shelby’s eyes were shining, her mouth wide and soft and tempting. His blood seemed to thicken and surge hotly through him, pooling in one hard throbbing strategic area. Now he needed the shock of a cold water plunge.

Shelby felt the sexual tension stretch between them. Her pulse accelerated and her breathing quickened. She quickly looked away from him.

“So, now that you know I’m a wholesome, honorable, single guy instead of a married cad bent on cheating on his wife, will you go swimming with me?” Garrett said huskily. “With our clothes on.”

“Just run right into the ocean wearing our clothes?”

“Well, you made it pretty clear that you weren’t interested in skinny-dipping.”

Shelby hesitated. It occurred to her that she had never swum wearing anything but the appropriate attire, a swimsuit. During staff parties at Casa del Marina, managers and senior staff were sometimes rowdily tossed into the pool, fully dressed, by some exuberant revelers. Not Shelby, though. She’d never even been approached. She was not the type to inspire anyone, not even a wildly exuberant reveler, to pick her up and throw her into the water.

“You have no choice, you know.” Garrett’s voice sounded above her head. “I’ll give you thirty seconds to take off your shoes and socks and then I’m dragging you into the water, with or without them.”

Without saying a word, Shelby pulled off her socks and shoes and tossed them aside. “I’ll race you into the water,” she called over her shoulder as she sped into the waves.

It was an unfair contest as she was already on her way before she issued the challenge, but Garrett responded at once. He ran into the surf, water splashing high around him.

“I win,” sang Shelby, standing knee-deep in the water. It was lukewarm and felt refreshing against her overheated skin.

“You cheated,” Garrett countered.

“Don’t be a sore loser. After all, it’s not whether you win or lose, it’s if you play the game.”

“How you play the game,” amended Garrett.

“Whatever.” Shelby shrugged. “There aren’t any waves today. The ocean is as still and clear as a swimming pool. Which is where you should be, if you wanted to swim today,” she added, casting him a reprimanding glance.

“But you can’t do this in a pool.” Suddenly, without a hint of a warning, Garrett placed his hands around Shelby’s waist.

Shelby felt heat flare within her. Their eyes met and held and a heavy silence engulfed them. Was he going to kiss her? she wondered. Did she want him to? Her heart was thundering madly against her ribs so hard and so loud, the beats echoed in her ears.

As she was pondering those questions, she felt his strong fingers tighten around her waist, felt him lifting her up, up off her feet. A dizzying, disorienting moment later, she was flying through the air and then plunging back into the water several feet away from him. She went under and came up spluttering.

Shelby grabbed a handful of her wet hair and pushed it out of her eyes. “You threw me!” she gasped.

“You’ve got a keen grasp of the obvious.”

Shelly waded through the water, which lapped around her waist, back to where Garrett stood. He was grinning down at her, unrepentantly.

She found herself grinning back. “It was fun. Do it again.”