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“I’m serious.”
“I can see that you are. What puzzles me is why I’m such a threat to your peace of mind. I assure you I don’t plan to run off with the family silver or murder people in their beds. I have questions that only Hugo Preston can answer, that’s all.”
“You didn’t have to come halfway across the country for that. The telephone was invented a long time ago.”
“I’m curious to meet my father face-to-face.”
“I just bet you are!” he sneered.
She shrugged. “So sue me.”
“Give me reason to, and I will.”
She stared at him, unable to fathom his hostility, but his expression gave nothing away and she wasn’t about to beg for an explanation. “I’m afraid you’re in for a terrible disappointment,” she said instead. “I have no hidden agenda in coming here.”
His mouth tightened.
“There’s nothing unnatural in a person wanting to meet her biological parent.”
He glanced in the rearview mirror, stepped on the accelerator and raced past a stretch limo. Prickles of sweat broke out along her spine as he took an off-ramp at alarming speed.
Thrusting both palms flat against the dashboard, she asked, “How many auto accidents have you had?”
The question was ill-advised, to say the least. He speared her with a chilly sideways glare, which glimmered with evil amusement. “None. But there’s a first time for everything.”
“Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer you postpone the premiere performance until I’m not your passenger.”
“Your preferences don’t rank high on my list of priorities, Ms. Talbot. In fact, it’s safe to say they don’t register at all. As for your perceived sense of danger, let me assure you I don’t intend risking either life or limb on your account.”
They’d turned onto a street lined with elegant town houses by then. Braking to a stop next to a van, he shifted into reverse and began backing into a parking space so tight, it invited disaster. She opened her mouth to tell him so, then snapped it closed again as, without a moment’s hesitation or a single false move, he angled the car into place and brought it to rest parallel to the curb.
He reached behind her seat, leaning close enough that she got a pleasant whiff of his aftershave, and hauled out a briefcase. “Wait here,” he ordered, climbing out of the car. “I won’t be long.”
Lily watched as he loped across the street and up the steps to a door three houses down. Before he had the chance to ring the bell, a woman appeared. She was very pleased to see him, if the smile and hug she bestowed were anything to go by, and she was also very pregnant. He slung an arm around her shoulders and the two of them disappeared inside the house.
Ten minutes passed, then twenty. The clouds, which had been dense enough to start with, grew even darker. Not long after, a light came on at an upstairs window of the house into which Sebastian Caine had disappeared.
“Oh, fine thing!” Lily muttered resentfully. “I’m left cooling my heels in here while he has an assignation with his mistress. No wonder he told Hugo not to hold dinner!”
She twisted around and craned her neck, searching the narrow area behind the two front seats in the hope of finding something to wile away the time—a newspaper or magazine, even a map of the area. But the only item of interest was Sebastian’s passport lying open and facedown on the floor.
She prided herself on being an essentially decent person, the kind who returned her library books on time, held open doors for the elderly, and told little white lies only when absolutely necessary. She definitely did not consider herself to be the sort who snooped through other people’s medicine cabinets or read their mail. But that darned passport drew her like a magnet and before the full import of what she was doing could properly register, she found herself picking it up and sneaking a look inside.
In line with those of most other people she knew, her own passport picture made her look as if she belonged on North America’s Ten Most Wanted list, but Sebastian Andrew Caine might have commissioned a portrait photographer to produce his. His face stared back at her in all its direct-gazed, firm-jawed glory.
He’d been blessed with impeccable cheekbones, thick black hair, eyelashes to draw the envy of every woman alive and a disarming cleft in his chin. On top of that, as she knew from firsthand observation, he stood well over six feet and probably sent his tailor into raptures over his trim, perfectly proportioned physique.
Too bad he’d been at the end of the receiving line when God dispensed charm!
Though now a Canadian citizen, he’d been born in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, on April 23, thirty-four years ago. He traveled often and mostly to exotic places like Turkey, Russia, The Far East, Morocco and Greece.
She thumbed through the pages. His most recent port of call had been Cairo; his most far-flung Rarotonga. He’d visited Rio de Janeiro twice in the last three years and the southern Baja four times. What with jaunts all over the world and house calls to his current ladylove, it was a wonder he found time to work!
Annoyed at being kept waiting, Lily slapped the passport closed and turned to glare across the street at the house he’d entered, only to find her view blocked by Sebastian Caine’s tall figure. Completely unmindful of the rain pelting down, he stood beside her window, glaring right back at her.
At the realization that she’d been caught blatantly prying into something that was absolutely none of her business, her whole body blushed, starting at her toes and spreading in waves until the blood suffused her face and left it burning. Even her throat and eyeballs felt parched. She could neither swallow nor blink. She simply sat in paralyzed horror and prayed he was a mirage created by the rain weaving patterns down the glass.
At best, it was an unlikely alternative and one he soon disabused her of by striding around the back of the car and wrenching open the driver’s door.
Of course, there was no justifying what she’d been caught doing. Still, she felt compelled to try. “It was lying on the floor,” she blustered, the minute he climbed into the car.
He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. His raised eyebrows told her plainly enough what he thought of that as an excuse.
“So I picked it up. A passport’s not something to be left lying around, you know.”
He leaned back in his seat and continued his frigid, unblinking regard.
Self-preservation told her she was merely digging herself in deeper with every word and that her best bet was to keep quiet. But his silence, charged with unspoken accusation as it was, unnerved her. “I mean, it could just as easily have fallen out on the road without your noticing, and I’m sure you know what a hassle it is trying to get a replacement…. Particularly if you needed to travel overseas in a hurry… Not to mention the ramifications of some underworld figure getting hold of it and putting it to criminal use…and…well…”
“Are you quite done?” he asked, when she finally ran out of steam.
She looked down, realized she was still clutching the passport and hurriedly dropped it into his lap. “Yes.”
“Thank God!”
He tossed the passport over his shoulder, and eased the car out of its parking spot. The rush hour was in full swing by then, which made it a bit easier for her to tolerate his aloof silence since she had no wish to distract him from the job of negotiating the heavy traffic. But when the city limits lay far behind them and the only sound to break the twilight hush was the frenzied swipe of the windshield wipers, she decided they’d both sulked long enough.
“I’m afraid,” she said, slewing a glance at him, “that we got off to a rocky start and I’d like to apologize for my part in that.”
His shrug of acknowledgment could hardly be construed as encouraging.
Still, she persevered. “I really don’t make a habit of going through other people’s private possessions, you know. But you were gone longer than you led me to expect and I was just looking for something to read.”
He favored her with a scathing glance. “In that case, I suppose I should count myself lucky that you stopped with my passport. There must be at least a dozen legal files back there, which would have provided you with much juicier entertainment and after you’d read your fill, you could have blackmailed me for breaching lawyer-client confidentiality.”
“I didn’t know you’re a lawyer.”
“And I didn’t know you’re a meddlesome busybody, so that makes us even.”
She shifted in her seat, the better to observe him. He really was quite outstandingly good-looking. “Why are you so determined to dislike me, Sebastian?”
“I have no feelings toward you, one way or the other, Ms. Talbot. I already told you, you’re an inconvenience, but I’ll get over that as soon as I’ve deposited you on Hugo’s doorstep.” He punctuated his statement with a telling pause before continuing, “Provided you don’t hurt him or anyone else I care about.”
“It’s obvious you think I’ll do exactly that.”
He swung his head and pinioned her in his cold blue stare, and she almost cringed at the expression she saw in their depths. “Let’s just say that, in my experience, the apple seldom falls far from the tree.”
She stared at him, more perplexed by the second. “Meaning?”
“Meaning if you’re anything like your mother—!”
But then, as if he’d given away more than he intended, he clamped his mouth shut and returned his attention to the road.
Lily, though, wasn’t so inclined to let the subject drop. “What do you know about my mother?”
“More than I care to.”
“Because of things Hugo’s told you?”
“Hugo had no contact with her for more than twenty-six years.”
“Exactly! Which make his opinions less than reliable.”
“Then for once we’re in agreement.” He flicked on the right turn indicator and slowed the car as they approached the neon-lit entrance to a restaurant set back about fifty yards from the road. “On which fortuitous note, I propose we stop for something to eat. Stentonbridge is still a good two hours’ drive away.”
Part of her wanted to tell him she was more interested in having him explain his cryptic remarks than she was in food. But another, more cautious part urged her not to pursue the topic. That he knew more than he was telling was plain enough, but although she’d come here looking for answers, she didn’t want them from him. Whether or not he’d admit it, there was too much anger seething beneath his surface, and she didn’t relish the idea of it bursting loose on some dark country road miles from anywhere.
She’d waited this long to find out the truth. She could wait a few hours longer.
She wasn’t what he’d anticipated. Watching her covertly as she studied the menu, he had trouble reconciling the woman sitting opposite him in the booth with his expectations of a vulgar, money-grubbing fortune hunter. He’d been prepared for flashy good looks, provocative necklines, big hair, fake fingernails and too much cheap jewelry. They fit the image. Lily Talbot did not.
Oh, he supposed she was pretty enough, in an ordinary sort of way. More than pretty, some might say. But the cheapness wasn’t there, no matter how hard he searched for it. She had narrow, elegant feet. Her hands were delicate, the nails well-cared for and buffed to a soft shine. Her features were small and regular. Patrician, almost. Her dark brown hair lay smooth and shining against her cheek. She looked out at the world from wide, candid eyes and she smiled a lot. Her mouth was permanently upturned at the corners, her lips soft and full.
Apart from a watch, her only other jewelry was a pair of small gold earrings. She wore a blue denim skirt, which came to just below her knees, a short-sleeved white blouse buttoned to a vee at the front and sandals. Her legs were bare and, he hadn’t been able to help noticing, extremely long and shapely. Her skin was lightly tanned and she’d painted her toenails pink. They reminded him of dainty little shells.
Ticked off, he glowered at her, knowing Hugo would love her, that he’d accept her immediately and not once question her motives for suddenly wanting to make contact with him. But the fact remained that her mother’s betrayal, over a quarter of a century before, had nearly killed him, and it was Sebastian’s self-appointed job to make sure the daughter didn’t finish the job now.
Unaware of his scrutiny, she tapped her fingernail against her front teeth and continued to peruse the menu. She had lovely teeth, a lovely smile. “For Pete’s sake, I invited you here to eat, not spend the night,” he practically barked. “Make up your mind what you want to order.”
“I like looking at menus,” she said, rewarding him with a look of pained reproach from her big brown eyes.
“Then you must be a very slow reader. I could have memorized the entire thing in half the time you’re taking to get through it.”
“Well, I’m not like you.”
Hell, no! She was pure woman, and the fact that he couldn’t stop taking inventory of her assets was beginning to irk him more than a little! “In case it’s slipped your mind, Hugo’s been waiting a long time to meet you. If it’s all the same to you, I’d as soon not prolong his agony.”
She slapped the menu closed and leaned back in the booth. “I’ll have a large order of fries and a vanilla milk shake.”
“You took all this time to decide on a milkshake and fries?” he asked incredulously.
“With ketchup.”
“If that’s all you want, we could have stopped at a fast-food drive-in and saved ourselves some time.”
She collected her bag and the sweater she’d heaped on the bench. “Okay. Let’s go find one.”
“Stay where you are!”
He must have raised his voice more than he realized because the next thing he knew, the waitress had come barging over to their booth to inquire, “Your boyfriend giving you trouble, honey?”
Lily Talbot exploded into warm, infectious laughter, as if the woman had said something hilariously amusing. “Heavens, he’s not my boyfriend!”
“And I’m not giving her trouble.”
The waitress eyed him darkly. “You’d better not be.” She fished out her notepad and waited with pen poised. “So what’ll you have?”
He relayed Lily’s request and ordered a steak sandwich and coffee for himself. “I thought women like you existed on salad and tofu,” he said, while they waited for their food.
“Women like me?” She regarded him pertly. “And what kind of woman is that, Sebastian?”
“Under thirty and in thrall to the latest trend, no matter how outlandish it might be.”
“You don’t know much about women, do you?”
Enough to know you’re bad for my concentration, he could have told her.
She leaned forward and he couldn’t help noticing the graceful curve of her breasts beneath her blouse. He even found himself wondering if she was wearing a bra. Damn her!
“Real women aren’t slaves to fashion, Sebastian,” she informed him, her tone suggesting she found him singularly lacking in intelligence. “We make up our own rules.”
“What happens if your rules don’t coincide with men’s?”
“Then we compromise, the way we have since the beginning of time.”
“Sounds to me like a convenient excuse to do whatever you want, whenever you want, and not be held accountable for your actions.”
She looked at him pityingly. “Don’t you know that if you always go looking for the worst in people, you’ll eventually find it?”
She was either a complete innocent or a contemptible schemer, and until he determined which, he wasn’t about to let down his guard. “I don’t have to go looking, Ms. Talbot. I live by the credo Give a person enough rope and she’ll eventually hang herself.” He paused meaningfully. “You’d do well to remember that.”
CHAPTER TWO
LILY shook her head in bewilderment, floored by his unremitting hostility. “Well, so much for striking up pleasant dinner conversation!”
“I’m sorry if the truth offends you. We can change the subject if you like, and talk about the weather instead.”
“I’d prefer not to talk to you at all. You’ve been nothing but disagreeable from the minute you set eyes on me and I’m tired of trying to figure out why. I’m beginning to suspect you don’t have to have a reason because you’re the kind who makes a career out of being miserable.”
“At least we’re not harboring any illusions about what each of us thinks of the other.”
There was no getting past that steely reserve of his, no hint of humanity or warmth in his makeup. He might be handsome as sin on the outside, but inside he was as dry as the law books he probably considered riveting bedtime reading. “Oh, go soak your head!” she snapped.
He looked mildly astonished, as if he thought he had a corner on the insult market. “Now who’s being offensive?”
“I am,” she allowed, “because trying to be pleasant about anything is a lost cause with you, Sebastian Caine. You’re fixated on being as insufferable as possible, whether or not you have just cause.”
Their meal arrived then, so she poured a dollop of ketchup on her plate and stabbed a fork into her French fries.
