Seducing the Wolf (37 page)

Turner grimaced, shaking his head in angry disgust. “It’s only by the grace of God that you didn’t develop an eating disorder. You were already naturally small like your mother. She had no reason to starve you the way she did.”

Taylor sighed. “She meant well.”

Her father snorted. “Sure.”

Taylor decided to change the subject before he turned the conversation into an embittered rant about her mother’s parenting skills. “How are things going at the academy?”

Thankfully, he took the bait. “Everything’s going well.”

He began telling her about the recent lecture he’d given on the Bureau’s efforts to combat the growing threat of cyber terrorism.

Though Taylor had always enjoyed hearing about her father’s work, she found her mind wandering as he talked, her thoughts drifting to Manning. As soon as she’d disembarked from the plane, she’d called to let him know she’d arrived safely. When she got his voice mail, she’d left a message telling him that she’d try him again later that evening.

Because she knew how busy he was, she didn’t expect him to call her back. So when her cell phone erupted with Brahms’ Violin Concerto, she was startled.

“Ah, Brahms,” her father murmured. “Your favorite composer of the Romantic era.” He sent her a knowing smile. “That must be Aidan calling.”

Taylor didn’t respond, staring down at her handbag as if there were a live grenade inside.

“Aren’t you going to answer it?”

She shook her head quickly. “I’ll just, um, call him back after we eat.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind if you take the call.”

“It’s okay, Dad. I can talk to him later. Really.”

She could feel her father studying her. Speculating. “Everything okay with you two?”

“We’re fine.” She hated herself for lying, hated that she was too much of a coward to tell him the truth. She was a grown woman, not some teenager sneaking around to date the neighborhood bad boy her daddy disapproved of.

When her phone vibrated, she peeked inside her handbag to read the text message Manning had sent:

Sorry I missed your call. I was down in the lab. Glad you’re safe and sound. Still missing you…

Taylor smiled, her insides melting.

“I like Aidan,” her father remarked, skillfully maneuvering through dense Arlington traffic. “Of all the boyfriends you’ve ever had, he’s the only one who comes close to being good enough for you.”

Taylor silently stared out the window.

“I know I’ve always been a little overprotective of you—”

“
A little
?” Taylor gave a snort of laughter. “You can’t be serious, Dad. You’ve done background checks on every guy I’ve dated since college. If I even
mentioned
liking someone, you ran their names through the NCIC,” she said, referring to a national computerized criminal database. “You’ve investigated every man I’ve ever gone out with. I’d say that’s more than a
little
overprotective.”

Turner looked at her. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get involved with someone like your first boyfriend.”

Taylor stiffened at the unmistakable reference to Manning. Lowering her gaze to her lap, she said in a low voice, “He never got in trouble with the law.”

“He got suspended from school for fighting.”

“Because he was defending
me
from a bully.”

Turner snorted harshly. “I’m sure that wasn’t his first time getting suspended. He probably got in trouble all the time back in Atlanta. He was a brawler. A hothead with a nasty temper.”

“He never laid a finger on me.”

“Because he knew I’d kill him if he did.”

“No.” Taylor shook her head. “That’s not the reason. He was always gentle with me…tender.” She swallowed tightly, staring out the window again. “You never liked him. Despite how smart he was, you always thought he was some sort of a thug. But that’s not who he was, and it’s certainly not who he became. He’s a brilliant scientist and researcher. He has a Ph.D. in applied biosciences from MIT. He runs his own company and develops important drugs that help save lives. He started a youth foundation to give college scholarships to economically disadvantaged kids. He…” She trailed off, knowing that she’d said too much.

When her father spoke, his voice was taut with accusation. “Sounds like you’ve been keeping track of him over the years.”

Taylor leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes. “I have,” she whispered.

She could feel her father watching her, could feel his frustration and disapproval.

A heavy silence lapsed between them.

“You’re my daughter, Taylor,” Turner said at length. “I just want what’s best for you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I know, Dad.” Taylor reached over and covered his hand on the steering wheel. When he looked at her, she smiled a touch wistfully. “I want the same thing.”

When they arrived at the burger joint—a quirky little dive in northwest D.C.—Truman Chastain was already waiting for them. He sat at one end of a circular leather booth, his head bent over a menu.

Taylor snuck up behind the booth and covered his eyes with her hands. “Guess who.”

Tru gave a start, then froze with shock. “
Taylor?
”

She laughed. “
Ding ding ding!
Give that soldier another medal!”

When her brother looked up and saw her standing there, his eyes widened and his face broke into a huge grin. “I’ll be damned.”

Lunging from the booth, he scooped her up and swung her around as she squealed in delight, drawing indulgent smiles from other patrons.

Setting her back down, Tru gave her one of his rib-crushing bear hugs, then kissed her forehead and beamed down at her.

“When’d you get in town, Kiwi?”

Taylor smiled at the endearing nickname, which he’d given her when she was a toddler who’d loved eating kiwifruit. “Dad just picked me up from the airport.”

“Really?” Tru glanced over her head and grinned at their father. “You got me good, old man.”

Turner laughed, pleased with himself. “I sure did.”

“Let me look at you,” Taylor said to her brother. “I want to make sure you didn’t lose too much weight this time.”

Tru chuckled as she made a show of appraising him. He was tall, lean and ruggedly good looking. His jaw was ruthlessly square, and his skin was the same walnut brown as their father’s. Broad shoulders stretched beneath the camouflage jacket of the army combat uniform he wore with tan combat boots.

He raised a thick brow at Taylor. “Well?”

“Hmm.” She pursed her lips, searching his dark eyes for the shadows she’d seen there after he’d returned from Afghanistan, shadows that masked a pain he never talked about. She looked for them, but for now, at least, the shadows were gone.

“Do I pass inspection?” Tru prompted in an amused tone.

Taylor smiled. “I guess so.”

“You
guess
so?” Laughing, he hauled her close again and pressed a hard kiss to her temple.

As they all settled into the booth, the waitress came over to take their orders. A voluptuous young woman with beautiful cornrows, she flirted shamelessly with Tru, winking and batting her lashes at him. When he asked for clarification on a side order, she leaned over him to point to his menu, all but shoving her busty cleavage in his face.

As she sashayed away, Tru stared at her jiggling ass until Taylor punched him playfully on the arm.

“Sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly, rubbing his jaw.

Turner gave him a knowing grin. “It’s good to be back home, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir. There’s
no
place like home.”

When father and son shared a wicked laugh, Taylor rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“You two are something else,” she accused. “If either of you caught some guy checking me out the way Tru just ogled our waitress, you’d both be ready to shoot him.”

Her father and brother looked at each other and chorused, “Damn straight.”

Taylor sighed and shook her head, but her lips were twitching with amusement.

The mood at the table remained lighthearted as they laughed and bantered over humongous cheeseburgers, thick chocolate shakes and fries. Nestled between her father and brother, Taylor found herself reminiscing about other times they’d gone out to eat together, just the three of them enjoying one another’s company in the days before their lives became too complicated.

Just as Taylor swiped the last fry from Tru’s plate and stuffed it into her mouth, her cell phone went off.

When she heard Bach’s Double Violin Concerto, her laughter died on her lips.

Aidan’s ringtone.

Shit
, she thought, darting a glance across the table.

Her father was staring at her, his eyes narrowed with speculation.

As a guilty blush heated her face, she reached into her handbag and silenced the phone. A few moments later, Aidan sent her a text message.

Scored an interview with Henry Kissinger. Super stoked! But he doesn’t like phone interviews, so I have to fly out to New York to meet him. I’m on my way to the airport. I’ll try my best to make it back for your mom’s dinner party.

As Taylor slowly set aside her handbag, Tru drawled, “That must have been Aidan.”

Instead of answering, she took a sip of her shake to wash down the fry that was wedged in her throat. Her father’s suspicious gaze made her want to squirm in the seat like a child who’d been caught sneaking cookies before dinner.

“Did Aidan come here with you?” Tru asked. “Or did you leave him back in Paris?”

Taylor swallowed with difficulty. “He’s here. He had to attend a leadership summit.”

Tru nodded, studying her with a small smile. “Think it’s just a coincidence that the three most important men in your life work for the government?”

Taylor eyed him quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Dad spent his career with the FBI and still consults for them. I’m in the military, and your boyfriend is some schmuck from the State Department.”

Turner frowned at his son. “What’re you getting at?”

Tru shrugged a broad shoulder. “Just making an observation.”

“Sounds like more than an observation,” Turner said tightly.

Tru hesitated for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Taylor grew up around government types, Dad. Whether you were bringing your colleagues home for dinner or she was hanging out with me and my army buddies, she’s spent most of her life surrounded by servants of Uncle Sam. That includes her mother, who’s now a third-term senator.”

“So?” Turner snapped.

“So I can’t help wondering if that’s part of Aidan’s appeal. He fits the prototype Taylor is used to, so being with him feels comfortable. Familiar. Safe. And if that’s the case”— Tru looked directly at Taylor —“I’m just wondering how long it’ll take her to realize she’s in a rut.”

Taylor stared at Tru, her breath stalled in her lungs.

Turner blustered with outrage. “That’s a bunch of nonsense.”

“Is it?” Tru challenged softly, holding Taylor’s gaze. “Then why isn’t my sister disagreeing with me?”

Taylor swallowed hard. She couldn’t speak.

“Cut the bullshit, Tru,” Turner growled. “I know you’re just spouting off at the mouth because you don’t like Aidan.”

Taylor’s eyes widened in surprise. “You don’t like Aidan?” she whispered, staring at her brother.

He frowned. “Not particularly.”

“Really?” This was news to Taylor. “Since when?”

“I don’t know.” Tru leaned back in the booth, casually draping an arm over the back of the leather cushion. “Unlike Mom and Dad, I don’t think he’s right for you.”

“Why not?”

“For the reasons I just explained. He’s a safe choice for you, and safe equals boring.” Tru made a face. “Plus he’s a Republican.”

“So is your commander in chief, colonel,” Turner tersely interjected.

Tru snorted. “And I wouldn’t want
him
in the family either.”

Turner scowled. “It doesn’t matter what you want. And it doesn’t matter that Taylor and Aidan belong to different political parties. They live in Paris.”

“So what?” Tru retorted. “They’re still American citizens. Aidan works for the U.S. government, and whenever I talk to Taylor, she’s as vested in American politics as we are. And speaking of Paris, I thought we were trying to convince Taylor to come back home.”

“We are,” Turner groused.

“Well, maybe she needs a compelling reason to do it. As much as she loves and misses her family, that’s obviously not enough to bring her home. Maybe there’s someone out there who’d give her the right incentive to make the move.” Tru smiled meaningfully at Taylor. “Maybe it’s someone she already knows.”

Taylor’s heart thudded as she stared at her brother. Did he know about her and Manning? Had she given herself away somehow? She’d been so busy searching
his
eyes for secrets, she hadn’t realized he might have been doing the same to her.

“Goddamn it, Truman,” Turner growled. “Why the hell are you trying to stir up trouble?”

Tru laughed, undaunted by his father’s ire. “I’m not trying to stir up anything. I just want Kiwi to know that she has options. She doesn’t have to limit herself to the same basket of fruit just because it’s familiar. As the saying goes, ‘Familiarity breeds contempt.’ ”