Seducing the Wolf (38 page)

Taylor was silent, contemplating the foamy dregs of her milkshake. She didn’t need to look at her father to know that he was seething with fury.

“Are you just about done dispensing unsolicited advice?” he snarled at Tru.

“I think so. Oh, wait, one more thing, Kiwi.” There was a warm glint in Tru’s eyes as he looked at Taylor. “If Dad decides to boycott your wedding just because he doesn’t approve of the fruit you chose, I’d be more than happy to walk you down the aisle. No charge.”

As Turner sputtered in angry protest, brother and sister shared a quiet smile of understanding.

26

T
urner was still stewing when he and Taylor parted ways with Tru after lunch.

A strained silence hung between them on the way to Elyse Vaughn’s house in Georgetown. Though Taylor loved Tru dearly and appreciated his loyal support, she couldn’t help feeling that he’d just set her up. He’d detonated a bomb and then left her to deal with the carnage.

When Turner pulled up to Elyse’s stately brick brownstone, she was standing in the open doorway. As a member of the U.S. Senate, she’d already begun her weeklong break in observance of Independence Day.

Turner stared out the window at his ex-wife, a muscle throbbing in his jaw. After another moment, he climbed out of the Tahoe and stalked around to the back to remove Taylor’s suitcase from the trunk. He set it on the curb and then pressed a dry kiss to her forehead.

“See you tomorrow night,” he said gruffly.

Taylor nodded. “Thanks for the ride, Dad.”

He gave a curt nod. Without sparing another glance at Elyse, he got back into the SUV and drove off. Elyse frowned after him, then looked at Taylor and arched a perfectly sculpted brow.

Smothering a heavy sigh, Taylor rolled her suitcase toward the brownstone. Just as she reached the bottom of the redbrick steps, her stepfather emerged from behind Elyse and smiled warmly at Taylor.

“Well, hello there, young lady.”

Taylor smiled. “Hi, Boyd.”

Boyd Vaughn was tall, athletic and robustly handsome with piercing blue eyes that were often compared to Paul Newman’s. His thick dark hair was debonairly woven with silver and showed no signs of receding. His skin was tanned from hours spent outdoors playing golf, yachting and horseback riding. As one of the most powerful and sought after political strategists in Washington, he believed in working hard and reaping the rewards of it.

He skipped jauntily down the steps to greet Taylor, giving her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Great to see you again, kiddo. How was your flight?”

“Good, good.”

He winked at her. “It would have been even better if you’d taken advantage of my private plane.”

Taylor laughed. “I’m sure that’s true.”

Boyd grinned, then reached down and grabbed the handle of her suitcase. “Let me take this up to your room.”

“Thanks, Boyd.” Taylor followed him up the brick steps to the front door, where her mother stood waiting with outstretched arms.

“Welcome home, darling.”

Taylor smiled, stepping into her mother’s warm embrace.

Elyse Vaughn was a beautiful woman with deep mahogany skin, enviably sculpted cheekbones, and full lips that Taylor had inherited. Her slim body was ruthlessly toned, thanks to a workout regimen that included high-impact aerobics, running and yoga. Flab, along with bloviating politicians, were Elyse’s mortal enemies.

As Boyd moved through the foyer and carried Taylor’s luggage up a spiral staircase, Elyse kissed both of Taylor’s cheeks, then drew back and ran an appraising eye over her.

Taylor patiently endured the examination, waiting for her mother to comment on the few extra pounds she’d undoubtedly gained since arriving in Atlanta. Between the lavish limousine breakfast with Manning and his mom’s scrumptious homecooking, Taylor had been eating good and plenty, and she made no apologies for that.

Elyse suddenly closed her eyes and moved her hands through the air, following the outline of Taylor’s body.

She gave her mother a puzzled look. “What’re you doing?”

“Pulling the negative energy from your core.”

“What negative energy?”

“The negative energy you absorbed from being around your father. That man is positively
toxic
.”

Taylor sighed. “Mom, please.”

“Well, it’s true,” Elyse insisted, opening her eyes. “Not only did he rudely snub me, but he didn’t even have the decency to carry your luggage to the front door. Horrid man.”

Taylor frowned. “If you still feel that way about him, why did you invite him to the dinner party?”

“I only invited him as a courtesy to your brother. But I assumed—and hoped—he wouldn’t show up.” Elyse stared at Taylor, her eyes filled with dread. “Don’t tell me he actually plans to come?”

“I assume that’s what he meant when he told me he’d see me tomorrow night.”

“Oh, dear God,” Elyse muttered in exasperation, rolling her eyes heavenward. “Doesn’t that insufferable man know when he’s not wanted?”

Taylor gave her mother a dry look. “He probably figured he was welcome to come since, you know, you invited him.”

Elyse scowled. “Don’t be a smartass. Anyway, why was he in such a foul mood when he dropped you off? Is he mad because you’re staying here with me instead of him?”

Taylor frowned. “No.”

“Then what was his problem?”

Lowering her gaze to the Italian marble floor, Taylor murmured, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Elyse contemplated her another moment, then gave a dismissive shrug. “It’s just as well. We’ve spent too much time discussing your father anyway.” She dusted off her hands as if to release the negative
ch’i
she’d extracted from Taylor, then smiled brightly. “Let’s sit and have a glass of wine, then you can go up and rest before dinner.”

Taylor smiled faintly. “Wine sounds good.”

She followed her mother into an opulently appointed parlor that featured antique furniture, rare eighteenth-century paintings, rich Persian rugs spread over dark wood floors, French doors overlooking an enclosed garden and a white marble fireplace.

On the mantel was a collection of framed family photographs that showcased Elyse with Tru and Taylor, Boyd with his son and daughter from his previous marriage, and a photo with all of them together at Elyse’s first election night victory party. A large picture at the center was of Elyse and Boyd on their wedding day on Martha’s Vineyard. The couple looked stunning together, their faces glowing with happiness.

Taylor turned from the mantel as her mother walked over and handed her a glass of red wine. Together they moved to the elegant Venetian sofa and sat down, their bodies angled toward each other.

Elyse watched as Taylor nosed the wine and then took a small sip. The Merlot, like everything else in the house, was decadently rich.

“Your aunt and uncle are sorry they couldn’t be here,” Elyse said. “They had to leave for their cruise and won’t be back for ten days. But we were all thinking about coming to your concert in Atlanta on July fifteenth. Even the country folks want to come.”

Taylor smiled. “Really? I’d like that very much.”

“I figured you would,” Elyse said dryly. “But I warned them they’d have to be on their best behavior so they wouldn’t embarrass you. They can’t show up at the performance hooting and hollering like they’re at one of our family reunions or some gospel concert. Can you just imagine Aunt Ruby getting up and praising the Lord while you’re playing the Mendelssohn Concerto? And you know everyone else would follow her lead.”

Taylor burst out laughing, thinking fondly of her relatives who populated the small Eastern Shore, Maryland town where her mother had been born and raised. Elyse’s family was a loud, boisterous, colorful group who made their presence known wherever they went. Taylor loved each and every one of them.

“The more I think about it,” Elyse muttered grimly, “the more I’m considering
un
inviting them.”

“Don’t you dare,” Taylor warned. “I want to see them. I know they don’t enjoy classical music, so their willingness to attend the concert means a lot to me. Let them come.”

“Fine,” Elyse capitulated with a sigh. “They can come.”

Taylor smiled and sipped her wine, savoring the rich notes.

“You look wonderful, darling,” Elyse said warmly.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“I must admit I had my reservations when you told me you were going natural several years ago. A concert violinist has to possess a certain elegance and polish, and I wasn’t sure if natural hair would be the right look for you. But you’ve made me a believer.”

Taylor gasped, her eyes widening in exaggerated shock. “Oh, my God. Did Elyse Vaughn just endorse a black woman’s right to do whatever she wants with her hair? Stop the presses!”

“Hey, that goes both ways,” Elyse protested with a laugh. “Some of my closest friends are militant naturalistas who lecture me about my ‘addiction to creamy crack’ every time I come back from the hair salon.”

Taylor grinned ruefully. “I know people like that,” she acknowledged. “I think both sides need to call a truce.”

“Exactly. But I must say that your lovely twist outs are giving me serious hair envy,” Elyse admitted, patting her smooth shoulder-length tresses as her husband entered the room. “What do you think, honey? Should I take the plunge and go natural?”

Boyd smiled indulgently at her. “You know I think you’re gorgeous any way you wear your hair.”

“Aww,” Elyse cooed, fluttering her long lashes at him. “Aren’t you sweet?”

“Not trying to be sweet, darling. Just speaking the truth.”

Elyse beamed, lifting her face to receive the tender kiss Boyd gave her.

As Taylor watched them, she tried to remember if she’d ever seen her mother this girlishly happy with Turner. Sadly, she couldn’t recall a single time.

“I love the way you and Taylor wear your hair,” Boyd said, stroking Elyse’s face. “But you know I’m biased as hell, because I happen to think you and your daughter are two of the most beautiful women in the world.”

As Elyse tittered like a blushing debutante, Boyd gave her a look of adoration any woman would kill to be the recipient of.

Taylor shook her head, silently marveling at them. They were one of the most powerful political couples, both heavyweights in their own right. Boyd was known as a shrewd rainmaker with the clout to make or break careers. Elyse’s reputation as an outspoken Georgetown law professor and a fierce women’s rights advocate had earned her the loyalty of the constituents who’d voted her into office three times. Taylor had seen her mother deliver fiery speeches and eviscerate opponents during debates, and she governed with the same iron will.

But while Boyd and Elyse presented a formidable front to the outside world, the dynamics changed once they were behind closed doors. They became putty in each other’s hands, as sweet and docile as lambs. Seeing them together, Taylor was reminded of Stan and Prissy Wolf’s relationship.

“Well, I’m off to my meeting,” Boyd announced, giving Elyse another kiss before he winked at Taylor. “You girls have fun catching up. And don’t start dinner without me.”

“We won’t,” Elyse promised, watching him stride from the room with an expression of supreme bliss. “God, I love that man.”

Taylor grinned. “The feeling’s obviously mutual.”

Elyse sighed languorously. “There’s nothing like being with a man who worships the ground you walk on. Honestly, every woman should experience the power and pleasure of being loved like a goddess. It’s utterly exhilarating.”

Taylor smiled softly into her glass, thinking of the way Manning looked at her…touched her…possessed her body. He definitely made her feel like she was on an otherworldly plane.

“Hmm. Interesting.”

Taylor glanced up from her drink. “What?”

Her mother was studying her through narrowed eyes. “You look happy,” she observed almost grudgingly.

Taylor smiled a little. “Do I?”

“Yes. You do.” Elyse searched her face for a long moment. “You slept with him.”

Taylor took a sip of her wine. “Is that a question?”

“Of course not,” Elyse said sardonically. “I don’t need to ask because I already know the answer. Just like I didn’t need to ask all those years ago if you’d lost your virginity. I remember picking you up from the airport the day you came to live with me. I took one look at you, and I knew you’d had sex with him.”

“Manning,” Taylor murmured.

Elyse lifted a brow. “Beg your pardon?”

“On the way to lunch, Dad and I had an entire conversation about Manning without ever using his name. It was as if we were discussing an evil spirit who could be summoned by the mere utterance of his name. If we’re going to talk about
Manning
, let’s address him as
Manning
.”

“Fair enough.” Elyse paused. “I think you’re making a terrible mistake.”

Taylor met her gaze directly. “You’re entitled to your opinion.”

Elyse frowned. “Taylor—”

Abruptly she rose and walked to the fireplace. Calmly sipping her wine, she stared at her mother’s wedding portrait on the mantel.