His One-Night Mistress(21)

"Chocolate cake layered with apricot jam?" Seth said, amused. "You're in a bad way."

She was rhythmically tapping the tabletop with her fingernails; he'd  never found her to be a jittery woman. "It's always this way before a  concert," she said. "I'll be fine once I start to play."                       
       
           



       

"So there's a cost to being the best."

"Right now I'm not convinced it's worth it."

Seth dropped his hand over hers, stilling her restless movements. "I wish I could help."

Very briefly her fingers curled into his palm. A wicked glint in her eye, she said, "You're distracting me. That helps."

He raised her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers one by one. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."

Her cheeks, which had been too pale, were now patched with hectic color.  Flustered, she said, "You gotta order my cake, that's what you gotta  do."

"Lia, you disappoint me-you'd choose Sachertorte over seduction?" Seth  said, grinning as he signaled the waiter. After he'd given their order,  he drew a plain white envelope from his jacket pocket, his smile fading.  "This is for you."

She took the envelope from him as warily as if it were a poisonous  snake. Then, with sudden decisiveness, she tore it open and read the  words on the single sheet of embossed notepaper. "Your mother destroyed  both of my letters," she said blankly.

"Yes. I wish to God she hadn't."

Lia's own mother, for all her enormous professionalism and high  standards, had always loved her only child and wished the best for her.  "How could your mother have done that? Intervened so cruelly-altered the  course of three lives, one of them her own son's?"

"I don't know, Lia-I don't have the answer."

"It was a vicious thing to do," Lia said faintly. "All those weeks I  waited for you to get in touch with me, and tried so hard not to hate  you … then feeling utterly alone when Marise was born … "

Her eyes were shining with tears. "I'd have been there for you, had I known," Seth said hoarsely. "I swear it, Lia."

"But you didn't know, because your mother destroyed my letters. Why, Seth? Why?"

He'd realized this question would arise; realized, too, that to attempt  an answer would be to reveal things about himself he'd always kept  private. Stumbling a little at first, Seth began to describe the stone  mansion, Eleonore's coldness, Allan's subservience and his own escape as  a boy to the woods and the shore. The waiter brought their order, and  still he talked, encouraged by Lia's complete and unforced attention.  Then he looked up, knowing he was making a momentous decision. "Do you  remember I asked you, when I found out about Marise, if you'd considered  having an abortion?"

"Yes. You looked … overwhelmed when I told you I hadn't."

He forced himself to keep going. "When I was eight my mother had one … I  think it broke my father's heart when he found out. I overheard them the  night she told him."

This time Lia covered his hand with hers. "Seth, I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"I can't ever thank you enough for having Marise," he said in a raw voice, "just as I'll always regret I wasn't there for you."

A tear dropped from her dark lashes to the back of his hand. He gazed at  it, seeing how the light from the chandelier had refracted into a tiny  rainbow in its midst. Why had he told her something he'd kept secret for  years? And why did a single tear feel like the most precious of gifts?  "This is the last thing we should be talking about when you've got a  concert tonight," he muttered.

"Is it? Why, Seth?"

"Because I've upset you."

"You trusted me enough to share what must have been a huge trauma for a little boy," she said in a low voice.

"Telling you hasn't changed anything."

"Change happens, whether you want it to or not," she said implacably. "Do you have a ticket for the concert?"

"No. I prefer CDs. Music at a distance."

"I'll see there's a ticket at the door for you."

His eyes narrowed; if she could throw down a gauntlet, so could he. "When do I get to meet Marise?"

"I haven't told her about you yet."

A knife seemed to have lodged in his gut. "You haven't? Why not?"

She said defensively, "I wanted to hear about the letters first."

"Is that the only reason?"

Her lashes dropped to hide her eyes. "When I got back from the  Caribbean, it was all too new-I had to deal with my own feelings first."

He purposely didn't ask what those feelings were. "But you won't keep me from her?"

"I don't know." Fury smoldered in her eyes. "Am I supposed to ignore what your mother did?"                       
       
           



       

"I'm not responsible for my mother's actions," Seth said tightly.

"She's part of your family. Her, and your father."

"He wants to meet Marise, too."

Lia was rapping her nails on the table again. Was she in danger of  blaming Seth for his mother's crimes? "I can't deal with this right  now."

"I shouldn't have shown you my mother's confession. The timing's lousy."

"I'm the one who demanded proof. I can scarcely complain when I get it."

"You can complain all you like," Seth said. "For seven years you were a  single mother as a direct result of my mother's actions. How the hell do  you think that makes me feel?"

"I have no idea," Lia said tautly. "You're far too adept at keeping your feelings hidden."

With no idea where the words came from, Seth said, "I'll go to the concert."

Letting out her breath in a tiny sigh, Lia angled the last mouthful of  luscious chocolate icing onto her fork. She'd learned a great deal about  Seth in the last few minutes: information that only served to bind him  closer to her, in ways that both intrigued and terrified her. Frowning,  she said, "Why do men have to be so complicated?"

"To keep women guessing. Want another piece of cake?"

"I wouldn't get into my dress if I did. It's a very slinky dress, and  you can come to the reception after the concert if you want to."

"Providing we leave it together."

She raised her brows. "Autocratic, aren't you?"

"When it suits me."

"So you want a commitment from me."

"Only about the reception."

"You've made it all too clear you won't commit yourself to me in any  other way. But if I let you anywhere near Marise, you can't operate like  that with her."

"I won't," he said harshly. "That's a promise."

Could she believe him? Was she in Karlsplatz, Vienna, sitting across the  table from the man who'd been haunting her dreams? "Suppose I allow you  to see Marise," she said. "Suppose you and she develop a relationship,  and in the course of that, you and I end up having an affair. What  happens when you get tired of me, Seth?"

"We'll deal with it when it happens."

"I won't be dumped like so much garbage."

"I won't dump you like you're garbage!"

"Well, that got a reaction," Lia said.

He ran his fingers around his collar. "I'd like to be in bed with you right now."

"One of my professors at Juilliard said in class one day, peering at us  over the rims of his glasses, No sex before a concert. It drains the  music of its passion. Too bad, Seth."

"So by abstaining, I'm doing my bit for Brahms?"

"We all have to sacrifice for art."

"You can always make me laugh," Seth said in a voice of discovery. "Sex and laughter-that's quite a combo."

"Almost as good as Turkish coffee and chocolate cake." Lia pushed back  her chair. "I've got to go. The rehearsal's in a couple of hours and I  do breathing exercises beforehand."

"A concert brings you face to face with yourself," he ventured.

Surprised and pleased that he'd understood, she said, "That's right-what  do I have to give to the music? Will it find me wanting?" Her mouth  quirked. "Minor little questions like that."

Seth got to his feet, and, ignoring the other customers, kissed her full  on the mouth. "You couldn't possibly disappoint yourself, the audience  or the music," he said. Reaching in his pocket, he took out a small box.  "This is for you," he added, not meeting her eyes. "To bring you luck  tonight."

She was staring at the box, making no move to take it. "Seth, I can't take a gift from you."

"Why not? Do you think I'm trying to bribe you?"

"Of course not." She looked right at him. "You're as different from your mother as you can be."