Their gazes met and held for a long, long moment. “What do you want, Harlan?”
“What I’ve always wanted. You.”
Savannah drove to herfather’s house with Harlan’s words ringing in her ears. He wanted her. Had always wanted her. She hadn’t let herself think about Harlan and what could have been in a long, long time. But now all the reasons she’d had for not trusting him, for hating the way he’d left her, didn’t exist anymore. If she believed Harlan—and it shouldn’t have shocked her how very much she wanted to believe him. At the same time how could she accept that her father was a man who would do such a thing?Talk about conflicted.
Her father lived in one of the big mansions on Main Street. They’d moved from the house where Savannah was born to the big house when she was about twelve. It was a beautiful Southern Colonial style, built with cream-colored brick, huge white columns prominent across the front, and with black shutters flanking the many windows. It suited Randall Taylor to a T since it was extremely imposing and exuded wealth.
“What is this about?” Savannah asked as her father led the way into his den. His den was the only place in the house besides her own bedroom and the kitchen where Savannah had ever felt truly comfortable. Cool in the summer with shade trees overhanging that part of the house, warm and cozy in the winter with the fireplace going, his office was lined with huge bookshelves full of books and trinkets gathered from Randall’s travels. She took off her coat and went to stand in front of the fire, grateful for the warmth.
“This is about you and your execrable choices,” Randall said. “What are you doing dating that man? I thought you worked for him.”
“I do. What does that have to do with anything?”
“Good God, it was bad enough when I thought you were only working for him,” Randall said with evident revulsion. “If I’d realized you’d go so far as to date him, I’d have—” He broke off, his brows drew together and his expression turned thunderous—an expression she was well acquainted with.
What the hell?
“Never mind. This ends right now.”
Mouth agape, Savannah stared at him. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Sullivan is trash from the Barrels. I won’t have you dating him. In fact, I want you to quit working for him. Now.”
Incredulous, Savannah started laughing. Her father’s expression grew even more thunderous. “Dad, I’m thirty-two years old. You know perfectly well we are long past the time where you can run my life or choose my friends.” Her father’s propensity for doing just that had been a big source of strife between them when she was growing up. Which was one more reason to believe what Harlan had told her.
Randall visibly brought himself under control. “You’re absolutely right, Savannah. I let my concern for you override any other consideration.”
“Yes, I can see that. The question is why are you so concerned? Harlan is a successful—very successful, I might add—businessman. You should admire what he’s been able to do. Especially given where he started.” She watched him carefully, dismayed to note that nothing she said made an impression.
“I didn’t want to bring this up. I had hoped to avoid it, but clearly you won’t take my word for it.” He took a turn around the room, coming back to stand in front of her. “My poor girl. I’ve investigated Harlan Sullivan and found that he’s guilty of a number of questionable business practices. Too many to go into now. In short, he’s a con man.”
“I don’t know where you got your information but you couldn’t be more wrong. His company is well known and respected in the industry.” Savannah had discovered that surfing the Web on Sunday evening following Felicity’s Ball.
“My contacts are much more far-reaching than yours. He covers his tracks well.”
“Your far-reaching contacts are full of shit. Who are these people?”
“Goddamn it, Savannah. Can’t you just for once listen to what I’m telling you without questioning every little thing?”
“No, and this isn’t a little thing.”
“How you can still be so naive at your age is beyond me. Trust me to know what’s best for you.”
“Oh, right, Dad. Two words. Phillip Keller.” Her ex-husband, once her father’s protégé and the man he’d handpicked to marry her. Her father knew what Phillip had done to her and why they’d divorced. She’d told him everything.
“That was a mistake.”
“Yes, I’m well aware of that. I married the SOB.”
“Which shows you your taste in men isn’t to be trusted.”
“Mytaste in men?” It took a lot of nerve for him to say that to her, considering he’d been instrumental in pushing that relationship. True, no one had forced her to marry Phillip, but Randall had encouraged the marriage in every possible way.
“Yes. I’m talking about your recent history as well. If you had any sense you’d never have broken off your engagement to Brandon.”
Her father had really liked Brandon and hadn’t given up on the two of them, regardless of the broken engagement. “Brandon’s engaged to someone else now, so there’s no point harassing me about him anymore.”
“We’ve gotten off the subject. Are you telling me you’re going to continue dating Harlan Sullivan? As well as continuing to work for him? You’re just going to ignore what I’ve told you?”
