Seducing the Wolf (44 page)

Manning smiled. “I’ve known Audra since college. She was at Spelman while I was at Morehouse. She started her own architecture firm around the time I was ready to have a house built. I wanted to support her business, and I knew she’d understand what I was looking for. I didn’t want some cookie cutter McMansion. I wanted something different. Something innovative but environmentally friendly. I shared a few of my ideas with Audra, and she ran with them. As a result of this design, she won several awards and was featured in
Architectural Digest
. After that she was swamped with clients and had to hire more help.”

Taylor grinned. “That’s awesome. It was a win-win for both of you.”

“Definitely.”

“Hmm,” Taylor mused, tapping a finger to her lips.

Manning pulled his gaze from the house. “What?”

“So your secretary and your architect are both Spelman graduates.”

He nodded. “So are my human resources director and senior vice president of pharmaceutical operations. Huh. Imagine that.”

Taylor slanted him a teasing look. “Sounds like you’ve got a thing for Spelmanites. Should I be worried?”

“Nah.” He chuckled. “But you know I got mad love for my Spelman sistas. What self-respecting Morehouse man doesn’t?”

Taylor grinned. “Good point.”

Manning winked at her. “Let’s go inside.”

He got out of the car and came around to open the door for her, then smiled quietly as she stood there soaking up the idyllic beauty of the house surrounded by trees. The sight of glittering fireflies flitting through the air only added to the enchanting ambience.

How many times over the years had she wondered what type of home Manning lived in?

This wasn’t what she’d envisioned.

It was even better.

It was perfect.

“Come on, woman. Enough gawking.”

She laughed as Manning swept her off her feet and into his arms. They stared at each other as he strode up the porch to the front door. When he carried her across the threshold, the profound significance of the symbolic gesture made her heart swell to bursting.

Gazing into her eyes, he murmured, “
Bienvenue à la maison
.”

Her breath caught in her throat.
Welcome home.

“Manning…”

He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her so sweetly and tenderly she melted with euphoria.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered.

She stared into his eyes. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

He smiled and kissed her again, then gently set her down.

She turned slowly around. And gasped.

They were standing in a huge open foyer with a glass ceiling that soared upward through a lush canopy of trees. Taylor tilted her head back, staring up at the vivid summer sky turning purple with dusk. She marveled at the breathtaking vista for several moments before she continued through the foyer.

The home boasted an abundance of floor-to-ceiling windows that welcomed in a flood of natural light and revealed stunning views at every turn. Like the exterior of the house, there was nothing sterile or monochromatic about the interior. The furnishings were sleek and contemporary, woven with rich colors throughout. There was a gleaming expanse of Brazilian hardwood floors, and a rare collection of beautiful abstracts graced the walls. Despite the luxurious décor, the home still managed to be very warm and inviting—which was a credit to the talented architect, as well as the interior designer.

“Wow,” was all Taylor could say as Manning showed her around.

The house was a modern marvel equipped with electronic touch pads that controlled everything inside the home—from television sets to room temperatures to lighting. The upper levels could be accessed by a glass elevator or a spiral glass staircase.

Taylor shook her head, staring around in amazement. “Go on with your bad self, Audra.”

Manning grinned. “I’ll be sure to tell her you said that.”

Taylor laughed. “I’d say even more if I weren’t so awestruck. I mean, this place is—
whoa
,” she breathed as they entered a restaurant-sized kitchen that featured black granite countertops, sleek glass cabinets, a long center island and stainless steel appliances—Wolf, of course, with the trademark red knobs. A wall of windows overlooked a terraced deck with dual staircases that led down to a lavish swimming pool and a gorgeously landscaped yard that backed to verdant woods.

“Amazing,” Taylor marveled. “Simply amazing.”

Manning smiled. “We can finish the tour after dinner.”

She laughed. “That’s probably a good idea. I need to catch my breath.” Turning from the windows, she sniffed the air. “Something smells delicious.”

“That would be dinner, courtesy of my chef. I usually have Sunday dinner with my family, but he was kind enough to come in today and whip up something so you and I could enjoy a quiet meal at home.” Manning removed a bottle of wine from the refrigerator and smoothly uncorked it. “After we eat, I thought we could go for a nice drive and then swing by the hotel to pick up the rest of your things.”

Taylor sighed contentedly. “Sounds good to me.”

Manning handed her a glass of white wine, then kissed the tip of her nose and smiled. “Let me get your suitcase from the car.”

“Okay,” she murmured, leisurely sipping her wine as she followed him to the front door.

When he stepped out onto the porch, his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of the back pocket of his jeans and glanced down at the display screen. His jaw tightened and the muscles in his back tensed beneath his shirt.

He flicked a glance over his shoulder at Taylor. “I’ll be right in.”

She nodded, watching as he stepped down from the porch and headed toward the driveway before he brought the phone to his ear. She thought she heard him growl, “What do you want?” But his voice was so low and terse she couldn’t be sure.

The only thing she knew for sure was that the caller was a woman. And she could take two guesses which woman it was.

Caitlyn, who’d made Manning so mad that he’d walked out on her at the restaurant.

Caitlyn, who had the proud distinction of being the first girl he’d ever fucked.

Caitlyn, who’d remained in his life long after Taylor was out of the picture.

As her stomach churned with jealousy, she thought of Aidan sneaking around with other women while she was on tour. She thought of how enthusiastically he’d always greeted her when she returned home, never giving her any reason to suspect that he’d been unfaithful.

Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass as she watched Manning stalk around to the back of the Phantom. As he opened the trunk, a warm breeze carried snatches of his conversation to Taylor.

“…don’t give a damn…thought I made myself clear…No, don’t put her on the phone…need to stop using her for your bullshit…I’m done…Don’t call me again.”

He slammed the trunk closed and shoved the phone into his pocket.

Only then did Taylor move away from the door.

Moments later he stepped back into the house, his heavy Timbs clomping against the hardwood floor. Taylor sipped her wine, striving for calm as she studied an abstract painting on the wall.

As Manning wheeled her suitcase across the foyer, she murmured, “Is Caitlyn going to be a problem?”

His answer was an unequivocal, “No.”

Taylor turned to look at him. “Are you sure? Because
that
”— she pointed to the phone in his back pocket —“sounded like a problem.”

He stopped abruptly and retrieved his phone. “She’s not gonna be a fucking problem,” he gritted out, his fingers moving rapidly across the touch screen. “She sent me a text yesterday and invited me over for dinner. I ignored her, so she decided to try again today. I’ve been meaning to block her damn number, but I keep getting sidetracked.” He held up the phone to Taylor. “Done.”

She glanced at the screen, then slowly lifted her eyes to his. “Who was she going to put on the phone?”

Manning clenched his jaw. “Her daughter.”

Taylor stared at him. “She has a daughter?”

He nodded shortly.

“And you’ve met her?”

“Not by choice, but yes.” He frowned. “She’s a sweet kid, but her mother’s trying her damnedest to fuck her up.”

Taylor’s hand trembled slightly as she set her glass down on a glossy black onyx table. “What’s her name?”

“Ally.”

“Why did Caitlyn want you to speak to Ally?” Taylor paused. “Is she your daughter?”

“
What?
” Manning’s heavy brows slammed together. “Hell, no, she’s not my daughter!”

Taylor swallowed tightly. “I had to ask.”

“Jesus, Taylor! What kind of man do you think I am? The kind who makes babies and just abandons them? Is that what you really think of me?”

“No,” she said shakily. “Of course not.”

“Are you sure? Because you don’t
sound
too fucking sure.”

Something snapped inside Taylor, making her explode. “Honestly, Manning, I don’t know
what
to think of you sometimes! I thought I knew you a long time ago, but then I went away and you forgot all about me!”

He went still, his eyes narrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You forgot about me,” she said accusingly. “My brother died, I was sent away, and you wasted no damn time moving on without me. You never even bothered to write me one measly letter!”

Manning stared at her with a look of utter incredulity. “What…what did you just say?”

“I said you never wrote to me!”

“I never wrote to you?” he repeated slowly, as if the words were foreign.

Taylor stared him down. “You didn’t.”

Manning shook his head at her. “What the hell are you talking about? I
did
write to you.”

“Really?” she challenged.

“Yes,
really
.” He advanced on her until their faces were inches apart. “I wrote to you, Taylor.”

“I never received any letters from—”

“
I WROTE TO YOU, GODDAMN IT!
” Manning exploded. “
You
didn’t write to
me!
”

“
What?
” Taylor cried. “I
did
write to you! I wrote several times!”

He froze, his expression filled with disbelief and confusion. “You couldn’t have.”

“I did!”

He shook his head slowly. “I only got one letter from you.”

“
One? Just one?
”

“Yes.” His face hardened. “You basically told me to leave you alone and drop dead.”

“
WHAT?
” Taylor was aghast. “I never wrote any such thing!”

His eyes swept over her face. “What are you saying, Taylor?”

“I’m saying I didn’t send you that letter! I don’t know what—” As the unthinkable dawned on her, Taylor felt the blood drain from her head and congeal in her veins. “Oh, God,” she whispered, shaking her head in horrified denial. “Oh, no. No, no, no,
no
.”

Manning’s hands urgently grasped her face. “What the hell is going on, Taylor?”

She lifted trembling fingers to her mouth. “My father…oh, Jesus. He must have taken our letters.”

“
What?
”

“I always wrote mine the day before and added them to the stack of outgoing mail so Dad could drop them in the mailbox on his way to work. He must have removed my letters and sent that fake letter to you.”

Manning was incredulous. “Your
father
wrote that?”

“It
had
to be him! My mother wouldn’t have done that to us, and she couldn’t have forged my handwriting well enough to fool you! My father’s the only one who could have pulled it off. He was an FBI agent and a trained forensic and handwriting expert. And my mom just told me that it was
his
idea to send me away after Micah died because he blamed us for what happened, and he wanted me out of his sight.
Dear, God,
” Taylor breathed, shoving shaky hands into her hair. As the enormity of her father’s treachery sank in, she thought she would be sick. “All these years…”

“Wasted,” Manning whispered in stunned disbelief. “I spent all this time thinking you hated me.”

“And I thought you stopped caring about me. I thought you just moved on without me!”

“
God
, no.” Manning gave her a fierce look. “I
never
stopped caring about you, Taylor. And I never moved on. I couldn’t. I
still
haven’t.”

Taylor shook her head slowly. “I kept hoping to hear from you. I even called you one day, but you were away at basketball camp. You never called me back.”

“I did,” Manning growled, his palms tightening on her face. “I called you when I got home and read your letter. Your father told me you didn’t want to talk to me.”

“Oh, my God,” Taylor choked out. “I must not have been home. I must have been out with my mother or something. He never told me you called.”

“And now we know why,” Manning said bitterly.

Taylor gazed at him through a sheen of tears. “I can’t believe he did that to us. I’m so sorry...I should have known there was another explanation for your silence. I should have come to you years ago, but I was so afraid of getting hurt again. And my pride kept me away. I told myself if you didn’t want me anymore, I shouldn’t want you either.”

“
God
.” Manning closed his eyes, his features harsh with anguish. “When you joined the Met after college, I came to one of your concerts in New York. I was in a bad place at the time. Even though we’d been apart for almost six years, I wasn’t over you. Not by a long shot. I needed closure. So I went to your concert and hung around afterward. I was determined to speak to you, have it out with you. When you finally emerged from backstage, I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders and marched toward you. But someone else got to you first. It was some guy. He had flowers for you. He walked right up to you and hugged you. The way you smiled at him…it put a fucking dagger through my heart. But as I stood back and watched you, I realized that you looked happy. You looked at peace. As much as it tore me apart to see you with someone else, I knew it would have been purely selfish of me to intrude upon your life, to infect you with my pain and bitterness. So I turned around, Taylor. I turned around and I left.”