Free Wildest Hearts by Jayne Ann Krentz Page B

business interests as a full-time career?”
     
    “I'm sure Daniel has told you about my father.”
     
    “I know he walked out on you and your family.”
     
    Oliver was not certain he liked the soft sympathy in her voice. He was not accustomed to sympathy. He wasn't certain how to deal with it. “He left a mountain of debts and I had four brothers and sisters to look after.”
     
    “You felt you had to pay off the debts and restore your family's financial security?”
     
    He shrugged slightly and looked out through the glass wall of the greenhouse. “Yes.”
     
    “That was an enormous undertaking.” Annie searched his face. “The interesting thing is that you seem to be every bit as good at business as you are at growing ferns.”
     
    “They're not unrelated. Both require patience. And self-control.”
     
    “And you have plenty of both, don't you?” Annie jerked her fascinated gaze away from his face and looked at the nearest fern, another maidenhair.
     
    “Yes.” He took cold satisfaction in that simple affirmation of what was, after all, the truth. Idly Oliver traced the delicate outline of the tightly curled crosier of a lady fern. He wondered if Annie's nipples would feel like the new frond, firm and full of passionate promise.
     
    “Do you ever worry about being overcontrolled?” Annie asked. Her eyes were fixed on his finger as it traced the coiled crosier.
     
    Oliver smiled at the naive question. “There is no such thing as having too much self-control.”
     
    “I suppose it's that attitude that's gotten you where you are today.”
     
    “Yes.”
     
    “You've paid a price, though, haven't you?”
     
    Oliver met her eyes. “There's a price on everything.”
     
    “Uh-huh.” She sounded unconvinced.
     
    Oliver decided to change the subject. “About Barry Cork.”
     
    She jumped. “What about him?”
     
    “I think it would be best if you did not tell him that our marriage is one of convenience.”
     
    Annie went very still. “Why not?”
     
    “Let's just say I think he would have a difficult time keeping the information to himself.” Oliver paused, thinking. “He seemed shaken enough as it was this afternoon. There's no telling how he would react if he thought our marriage was a sham. He might let it slip to the very people we're trying to convince.”
     
    Annie turned to study a row of glass-topped trays. Oliver saw the tension in her shoulders as she stood with her back to him. “I think Barry deserves some explanations. He was extremely upset this afternoon.”
     
    Oliver leaned against one of the benches and shoved his hands into the pockets of his charcoal gray slacks. “Go ahead, Annie. Ask me what that was all about.”
     
    She shot him a quick, searching look over her shoulder. “All right, what was Barry talking about? What did he mean when he said some people thought you had, uh, done in an executive of one of your acquisitions? What was his name?”
     
    “Walker Gresham.” Oliver concentrated on the night outside the glass walls. He fell silent, wondering how much of the story to tell her.
     
    “Well?” Annie prompted after a few seconds of silence.
     
    Oliver glanced at her, mildly surprised by the hint of asperity in her voice. “About five years ago I took over a medium-sized manufacturing firm that had found an active niche in the Pacific Rim market. I kept one of the former partners, Walker Gresham, on as a high-level manager. He was the one who had carved out the foreign markets for the company and he seemed to know what he was doing.”
     
    “What happened?”
     
    “Your brother had just been put in charge of security. He walked into my office one morning and said he had reason to suspect Gresham was shipping something other than machine tools to some of his foreign customers. We set up a discreet investigation.”
     
    Annie watched him, intrigued. “And?”
     
    Oliver shrugged. “And we found out Gresham was using my new machine tool