for a moment on the wisdom of terminating the relationship and knew in her heart of hearts that she would not be able to do it. Not yet. Conn had claimed there was a bond between them now and a part of Honor recognized it. There was a hunger in her to follow the dangerous path that might lead past Conn Landry's emotional barriers. For a few minutes last night she had been allowed through the gates. She wanted more opportunities to discover the man behind the seemingly impervious walls of cool control.
Honor made a decision in the warm light of a new day. She would take the risks inherent in becoming involved with Constantine Landry. She had no real choice.
FIVE
« ^ »
It couldn't be love, Honor told herself at least fifteen times several days later on a Friday as she worked on some space-planning arrangements in her office. She'd only known the man for approximately two weeks, and if she were truthful with herself she actually knew very little about him.
But Conn was making a habit of staying for breakfast, and she realized she wanted him at her table tomorrow morning, too.
Idly she pushed around the little cutouts that represented various sizes and shapes of office furniture, but it was hard to keep her mind on the floor plan in front of her. All she could think about was the fragile new relationship she had begun with Constantine Landry.
It shouldn't be love, not so soon and not when there were so many unanswered questions, but she was very much afraid that it was. She'd never felt so vulnerable before in her life. Only love left a woman of twenty-eight feeling so precariously poised on the brink. Why was she fighting it, she wondered.
But she knew the answer. Conn Landry didn't fit any mental image or preconceptions she'd had about the man to whom she would one day give herself so completely. His background was still exceedingly vague, for example. He'd alluded briefly to various investments and mentioned that he'd spent a great deal of time overseas until two years ago. Something to do with being a go-between for corporations.
Whatever that meant. And he'd told her he lived in the San Francisco area.
Honor sighed and reached for another cutout of a table that could be used for large meetings. It was oval and would be far more interesting in the office space she was designing than the square one she'd been trying. She could see it now in rich gray slate on a black steel pedestal. It would give an impression of solid reliability to the clients of the securities brokerage house for which she was doing the design.
When you got right down to it, Honor told herself, what she knew about Conn revolved around impressions of him as a man rather than knowledge of the realities of his life. As a man he appealed to her senses on every level. She knew it was far more than a physical attraction. It had been from the first, even when she'd been so wary of him.
Some of her initial caution still existed, she had to admit, but she had shoved it far to the back of her thoughts. Instead, she now focused on ways of gently penetrating the emotionally controlled exterior that surrounded Conn. So far her only real success in that area seemed to take place in bed. Honor grimaced ruefully. She didn't like the idea that the only way she could really reach him was with sex.
Honor glanced up from her desk as the front door opened. Ethan Bailey smiled genially as he stepped inside the sleekly furnished room. He glanced around with interest.
"This is right nice," he observed, touching the finely-grained beige leather of a chrome-and-leather chair.
"Is that real marble?" He indicated her desk top.
"Absolutely." She smiled, motioning him to one of the chrome-and-leather chairs. "Nothing like a sheet of black marble to impress potential clients. What can I do for you, Ethan? Don't tell me you need some design work!"
He chuckled, lounging back comfortably in the chair. His hand-tooled boots were revealed as he extended his legs and steepled
Honor made a decision in the warm light of a new day. She would take the risks inherent in becoming involved with Constantine Landry. She had no real choice.
FIVE
« ^ »
It couldn't be love, Honor told herself at least fifteen times several days later on a Friday as she worked on some space-planning arrangements in her office. She'd only known the man for approximately two weeks, and if she were truthful with herself she actually knew very little about him.
But Conn was making a habit of staying for breakfast, and she realized she wanted him at her table tomorrow morning, too.
Idly she pushed around the little cutouts that represented various sizes and shapes of office furniture, but it was hard to keep her mind on the floor plan in front of her. All she could think about was the fragile new relationship she had begun with Constantine Landry.
It shouldn't be love, not so soon and not when there were so many unanswered questions, but she was very much afraid that it was. She'd never felt so vulnerable before in her life. Only love left a woman of twenty-eight feeling so precariously poised on the brink. Why was she fighting it, she wondered.
But she knew the answer. Conn Landry didn't fit any mental image or preconceptions she'd had about the man to whom she would one day give herself so completely. His background was still exceedingly vague, for example. He'd alluded briefly to various investments and mentioned that he'd spent a great deal of time overseas until two years ago. Something to do with being a go-between for corporations.
Whatever that meant. And he'd told her he lived in the San Francisco area.
Honor sighed and reached for another cutout of a table that could be used for large meetings. It was oval and would be far more interesting in the office space she was designing than the square one she'd been trying. She could see it now in rich gray slate on a black steel pedestal. It would give an impression of solid reliability to the clients of the securities brokerage house for which she was doing the design.
When you got right down to it, Honor told herself, what she knew about Conn revolved around impressions of him as a man rather than knowledge of the realities of his life. As a man he appealed to her senses on every level. She knew it was far more than a physical attraction. It had been from the first, even when she'd been so wary of him.
Some of her initial caution still existed, she had to admit, but she had shoved it far to the back of her thoughts. Instead, she now focused on ways of gently penetrating the emotionally controlled exterior that surrounded Conn. So far her only real success in that area seemed to take place in bed. Honor grimaced ruefully. She didn't like the idea that the only way she could really reach him was with sex.
Honor glanced up from her desk as the front door opened. Ethan Bailey smiled genially as he stepped inside the sleekly furnished room. He glanced around with interest.
"This is right nice," he observed, touching the finely-grained beige leather of a chrome-and-leather chair.
"Is that real marble?" He indicated her desk top.
"Absolutely." She smiled, motioning him to one of the chrome-and-leather chairs. "Nothing like a sheet of black marble to impress potential clients. What can I do for you, Ethan? Don't tell me you need some design work!"
He chuckled, lounging back comfortably in the chair. His hand-tooled boots were revealed as he extended his legs and steepled
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