Her eyes were dark pools of fury. He stepped closer. "We could shower together before you leave-that way we save water."
"Conservation's a very fine cause, but it's not my top priority right now."
"What is your top priority, darling Lia?"
If his eyes had been jewel-hard a few moments ago, they now held all the shifting greens of a tropical sea. "Darling Seth," she retorted, "it's to get out of here so I don't spend the rest of the day ravaging your body."
He lowered his head and kissed her with lazy sensuality. Then, taking his time, he nibbled his way along her lower lip, seeing with considerable satisfaction how her eyes were now blurred with desire. For once, he wasn't going to yield to that desire. He'd show her-and himself-that he could resist her. "We both have to get out of here," he said agreeably. "I have a business to run and you have to practice. I'll see you in a week or so." Then he stepped back, hoping she couldn't hear the pounding of blood in his veins.
She was gaping at him, looking totally at a loss. He added kindly, "Shut your mouth, sweetheart, you look like a stranded fish. Enjoy the rest of your stay, won't you?"
She snapped, "I will. Without you. Dearest."
Then she whirled and stalked out the door, slamming it hard behind her. Seth winced at the noise and sank down on the bed. The empty bed. Which was rumpled, and smelled sweetly of Lia.
He should have canceled his jet. What was the use of being the boss if he couldn't do as he pleased?
He wasn't the boss where Lia was concerned. His glands were. Brute testosterone. Him and Australopithecus.
He loved the way she never gave an inch.
Loved it? What kind of language was that?
CHAPTER NINE
SETH marched up the steps, ignoring the stone lions at their base. The whole house-or, more accurately, the whole mansion-was made of stone. Like his mother's heart, he thought grimly, and let himself in with his key. He'd phoned Eleonore to let her know he was coming; he hadn't seen either of his parents for several months.
The entrance hall with its marble floor and enormous arched windows was intended to intimidate; the architecture as well as the rigidly formal gardens were, in his opinion, totally mismatched to their surroundings of ocean and woods. Surroundings that had allowed him the escape he'd needed as a little boy.
He took the wide oak stairs two at a time, loosening his tie as he went. He hadn't planned what he was going to say. He scarcely needed to.
Tapping on the door of his mother's private sitting room, he walked in without waiting for her to answer. Heavy velvet drapes and carved mahogany furniture fought against the light coming through the tall windows. Fought and won, Seth thought. "Hello, Mother," he said.
He dropped a dutiful kiss on her cheek. Every one of her iron-gray hairs was in place, her black Valentino suit was elegant without ostentation, and diamonds sparkled on her fingers. She said coolly, "Your tie's a disgrace."
He hauled it over his head and threw off his jacket; Eleonore always kept the room too warm for his taste. "I just flew in from the Caribbean."
"Would you like tea? A drink?"
"No. This isn't a social call." He paused for a moment, wishing, as he'd always wished, that he could see even a sliver of warmth in her cold blue eyes.
"Then why don't you come to the point?" she said.
"Eight years ago, in Paris, I had a brief affair with a woman whose name I never knew," Seth said bluntly. "She wrote to me two months later, to tell me she was pregnant. She sent one letter to my office, the other to this address. I never got either one. Did you by any chance intercept them?"
"Of course I did."
"Of course?" he repeated tersely.
"Some little nobody who plays the fiddle and gets herself pregnant with your child? You think I'd let her anywhere near the Talbot fortune?"
So his suspicions had been well-founded; Eleonore had cold-bloodedly destroyed two letters and thereby deprived him of any knowledge that he was about to become a father. He said at random, because he could scarcely take in her perfidy, "Lia's far from a nobody-she has an international reputation as a violinist."
"Then why didn't you know her name?" Eleonore flashed.
"She wanted to be anonymous-her fame was new to her then. I did my best to trace her, without success … if one thing's clear in all this mess, it's that Lia wasn't then, and isn't now, after my money."
"You're far too naïve! I opened the letter that came here, and went straight to your office to destroy the second one; fortunately, she'd mentioned she'd sent two."
"The child she was carrying-that was my child," Seth said harshly.
"I'm quite sure she had an abortion once she knew she wasn't getting a penny out of us."
"She didn't. My daughter-your granddaughter-is now seven years old. Her name is Marise."
"So when are you getting married, Seth, and making the child legitimate?"
Eleonore had always had the ability to get under his skin. "I'm not," Seth said, his voice rising. "You and father put me off marriage permanently. But I've been cheated out of seven years of my daughter's life because you destroyed those letters. How could you have done that?"
"Easily," Eleonore shrugged, "and I'd do it again."
"You would, wouldn't you? Luckily Lia didn't choose to emulate you and have an abortion."
Eleonore's voice was like a whiplash. "Just what do you mean by that?"
"That fight you and Father had when I was eight-I overheard it. I heard you tell him how you'd aborted his second child. A girl, you said. She would have been my sister."
"You were in bed asleep."
"I was hiding in the library, where I'd gone looking for a book. You destroyed a life because it would have inconvenienced you."
"I'd already produced an heir to the Talbot name-it was my duty to do so. But there was no need for a second child."
"Why do you think I've never married? Never wanted a child of my own? Could it possibly have anything to do with overhearing my own mother discuss how she'd cold-bloodedly rid herself of a child she considered nothing but a nuisance?"
"Don't blame me for your shortcomings!"
"Who else is there to blame?"
"Eavesdroppers get what they deserve."
"Isn't that the truth," Seth retorted, and took a deep breath. A shouting match hadn't been in his plans. He said evenly, "I want a signed confession from you, saying that you destroyed those two letters."
"Why should I do that?"
"Because if you don't, I'll make sure the information goes public."
Eleonore's breath hissed between her teeth. "You wouldn't."
"Try me."
"What will you do with it should I sign such a ridiculous document?"
"Show it to Lia. So she knows why I left her totally alone to deal with her pregnancy and our daughter."
"She's blackmailing you!"
"That's the last thing she'd ever do-Lia has ethics. Unlike you. Sign it, Mother, or I'll make sure every one of your high-class acquaintances finds out exactly what you did eight years ago. Tampering with the mail is a federal offence, by the way."
"Go to the desk and bring me my leather folder."
Seth did so, then sat like a stone as Eleonore wrote a single brief sentence on her elegant letterhead. She signed the crisp vellum, and passed it to him. "I hope that satisfies you," she said bitterly.
He read it, folded it and tucked it in his jacket pocket. "You're not even remotely sorry for what you did, are you?"
"I've already told you I'm not. Now that you've gotten what you came for, I'd suggest you leave."
"Did you ever love me?" Seth said very quietly.
Her eyes a glacial blue, she snapped, "I did my duty by you, Seth. What more do you want?"
What, indeed? Seth got to his feet, picking up his jacket and tie. "I'll let myself out," he said.
He strode out of the sitting room, closing the door with exaggerated gentleness behind him. But as he crossed the hallway, his father came out of the adjoining room. Allan Talbot was the last person Seth wanted to see right now. "Father," he said, dredging up his good manners with conventional politeness, "how are you?"
Allan had Seth's green eyes, coupled with auburn hair thickly threaded with gray; although he was nearly Seth's height, his shoulders had a perpetual stoop and his face was prematurely wrinkled. If Eleonore had seized control in their marriage, Allan had abdicated it in a way Seth had found difficult to respect; and all too often in Seth's youth, Allan had found solace in the most expensive of wines. Now Allan said with unusual forcefulness, "I need to talk to you."