Seducing the Wolf (55 page)

“A
favor
?” Taylor cried incredulously. “You broke my heart!”

“Better me than him! Because make no mistake about it, Manning
would
have broken your heart eventually. It was only a matter of time. If you don’t believe me, just ask the string of women he’s callously used and discarded over the years. Oh, but I suppose he wouldn’t have done the same to you because
you
were his childhood sweetheart, therefore
you
would have been
special.”

“I
was
special,” Taylor whispered past the tightness in her throat. “We were special to each other. But you obviously can’t comprehend that.”

“Give me a damn break,” her father spat scornfully. “This isn’t some Greek tragedy or Shakespearean melodrama. You and Manning aren’t Orpheus and Eurydice. You’re not Romeo and Juliet. You were two teenagers who got separated before your puppy love had a chance to fizzle out on its own—which it most assuredly would have. But let’s play devil’s advocate for a moment and assume your love was the real thing. Let’s assume you and Manning
were
star-crossed lovers who got dealt a bad hand. So what? You survived, didn’t you? You rose like a phoenix from the ashes of your heartbreak and you took the classical music world by storm. You kicked ass like you were born and bred to do.
Why?
Because you’re Taylor Chastain, goddamn it, and you became that
without
Manning Wolf by your side!”

Taylor shook her head slowly. Almost sadly. “You don’t get it. You just don’t get it.”

“What I
get
is that you just made the biggest mistake of your life by walking away from Aidan in order to be with a man you can never trust.”

Taylor sneered. “And
Aidan
is trustworthy?”

“He’s more trustworthy than Manning, that’s for damn sure.”

“Really? Did he tell you that he cheated on me?”

Her father paused a moment. “He admitted that he had dinner and drinks with another woman while you were on tour, but that was it.”

“He’s lying,” Taylor hissed. “It was more than dinner and drinks. He slept with her.”

“And you slept with Manning. Seems to me you’re both even.”

Taylor frowned. “I don’t want to marry Aidan,” she said through clenched teeth. “I don’t love him. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m a grown woman. I don’t need your permission to be with Manning.”

“You’re right about that. But let’s see how much you’ll still want him after he’s lost everything.”

A twinge of alarm ran up Taylor’s spine. “What are you talking about?”

“I may be retired from the Bureau, but I’m still very much a part of the inner circle, and I’ve still got friends in high places. One phone call is all it would take to put Wolf Biotech on the FDA’s shit list. Do you know what that means? It means that Manning’s company would come under intense regulatory scrutiny, which means that every violation, however minor, could cost the company millions in fines—and those millions add up. Getting in the FDA’s crosshairs would also make it that much harder for Wolf Biotech to get drugs approved, which means the company’s bottom line would suffer. Do you know what happens to companies that can’t bring products to market? Investors flee them in droves. But that’s not the only way I could dismantle Wolf Biotech. I could infiltrate it with moles who would sell the company’s trade secrets to competitors. Or I could have them plant evidence to ‘prove’ that Manning was conspiring with the Chinese government to commit corporate espionage against other companies. Once the FBI filed charges, the bad publicity would destroy Manning’s reputation and credibility before his case even made it to trial. And the mass exodus of investors would be the death knell.”

Turner’s soft, menacing chuckle sent a surge of bile rushing up Taylor’s throat. She choked it down, gripping the phone so hard her fingers cramped.

“I can’t believe you’d go after Manning’s business just to punish him for being with me,” she accused, her voice vibrating with fury.

“Then you underestimate me.” Turner’s voice hardened. “I don’t have to resort to such drastic measures, Taylor. The ball’s in your court.”

She shook her head in outraged disbelief. “Manning was right about you. You’re weak and pathetic. And you’re a fucking coward.”

Her father exhaled harshly. “You disappoint me, Taylor. I thought you were made of better stock than this. I guess you
are
your mother’s daughter after all.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just think about what I said. It’s not too late for you to come to your senses. But you’re running out of time.”

Before Taylor could respond, he hung up on her.

The conversation haunted her for the rest of the day.

As she entered Manning’s house that evening, her mind was still in turmoil, struggling to make sense of the incomprehensible. How could her father be such a ruthless monster? How was it possible that she’d never seen this side of him before? The things he’d said to her...the threats he’d made. He was forcing her to choose between being with Manning or protecting him from destruction.

It was an impossible choice. A heart-wrenching
choice.

If she stayed with Manning, he could lose everything he’d worked so hard for. But if she gave him up for good…
God
, she didn’t even want to think about that. The idea of walking away from him now that they’d reunited was inconceivable.  

She knew she had to warn Manning about her father’s threats. But she was afraid of what would happen if she did. Manning had never been one to back down from a fight. What if he went after her father? Or what if he called Turner’s bluff and set off a nuclear war between them?

What if they ended up destroying each other?

Taylor’s steps were leaden as she made her way to the bedroom, where she undressed and put on one of Manning’s Morehouse T-shirts. It was huge on her, hanging to her knees. She loved the way it swallowed her up, loved knowing that the soft fabric had also rubbed against Manning’s skin. Wearing the shirt made her feel connected to him—a connection she cherished now more than ever.

After pulling on a pair of white leggings, she left the bedroom and padded to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine. She needed something to calm her nerves, to take the edge off her anxiety.

Manning had texted earlier to tell her he’d bring her dinner from the restaurant if she didn’t mind eating a little later. She didn’t mind. Right now she had no appetite, but maybe that would change by the time he got home.

In desperate need of a mental distraction, she retrieved her violin, sheet music and music stand, then headed to the living room to work on the new piece she’d begun composing for Hilary Hahn. For several minutes she sat studying the notations on the page, trying to corral her racing thoughts. Humming the melody to herself, she picked up her pencil and scribbled more notes onto the bars, drawing thick lines between the note stems.

When the graphite point snapped, she tossed down the pencil in frustration, sagged back against the chair and scrubbed her hand over her face. There was no use trying to compose music when her mind was in such turmoil.

She reached for her glass of wine and took a long sip, too agitated to appreciate the dark, savory blend of black cherry, black currant and blackberry. Closing her eyes, she sighed and kneaded her throbbing temple.

God, what am I going to do?

Suddenly her cell phone rang on the table beside her. Startled, she opened her eyes and stared at it. She was almost afraid to answer the call.

When she hesitantly picked up the phone and saw her mother’s number, she was only marginally relieved. She and Elyse weren’t exactly on the best of terms right now.

“Hey, Mom.” Taylor’s tone was wary.

“Hello, darling,” Elyse greeted her. “How are you?”

I’ve been better.
“I’m fine.”

“That’s good. Listen, I’m in town and I’d like to see you.”

Taylor shot up in the chair. “You’re
where
?”

“I came to Atlanta to visit you. In fact, I just pulled up to Manning’s property. Can you open the gate?”

Taylor was reeling with shock. “Um, hang on a sec.”

She set down the phone and her drink, then hurried from the living room. When she reached the electronic touch pad in the foyer, she entered the access code to open the automated gate. Then she stepped outside and stood on the porch, watching with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation as a black town car came down the long, winding drive and pulled up to the house.

The driver got out and opened the back door for Elyse. When she emerged, her gaze locked with Taylor’s. Something in her eyes told Taylor that this would be no ordinary visit. She could already feel the ground shifting beneath her feet, and it was more than unsettling.

When her mother reached the top of the porch, they hugged and kissed each other’s cheeks.

“When did you get in?” Taylor asked.

“I just arrived. Came straight from the airport. Boyd insisted that I take the Gulfstream, and our driver traveled with me.” Elyse waved as the town car pulled off. “He’ll come back later to pick me up.”

“How long will you be in town?”

“Just tonight.” Elyse touched Taylor’s hair. “I apologize for dropping in unannounced, but I really wanted to see you. Tru told me you were staying with Manning. I hope you don’t mind?”

“I don’t. But how did you find out where Manning lives? His address is unlisted, and he pays an attorney to keep it that way.”

Elyse’s eyes glinted. “I’m a woman of many resources.”

“Of course,” Taylor said wryly. “How could I forget, Senator Vaughn?”

Elyse chuckled as she took in her scenic surroundings. “This is quite a place. How many acres?”

“Ten, if I recall. Come on in.” Taylor opened the front door and gestured her mother inside.

“Wow,” Elyse exclaimed, glancing around appreciatively. “What a gorgeous home.”

Taylor smiled, closing the door. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do. You know my taste runs more toward antique, so this is a tad too modern for me. But it’s absolutely stunning.”

Taylor grinned. “You may be pleased to hear that it’s equipped with solar panels that power the house when the sun goes down.”

“So it’s energy efficient and environmentally friendly.” Elyse smiled. “I’m impressed.”

“I figured you would be.” Elyse had always been a strong proponent of green energy, though traveling around the country in a luxury jet didn’t exactly scream “rabid environmentalist.”

She observed Taylor with a quiet, indulgent smile. “You seem at home here.”

“I feel at home,” Taylor admitted.

“I can tell. You look like the lady of the manor.” Elyse gestured to the oversize Morehouse T-shirt. “You’re even wearing his clothes.”

Taylor’s cheeks warmed. “Would you like some wine?”

“That would be lovely.” Elyse dropped her designer clutch on the foyer table and followed Taylor, her kitten heels clicking softly against the polished wood floors. “So where
is
the lord of the manor?”

“He had a business dinner. But he should be back before you leave.”

“Good. I’d like to see him. It’s been a long time, and I—
whoa
.”

Taylor laughed, watching as her mother swept a stunned glance around the enormous kitchen. “I had the exact same reaction.”

“Now
this
is a kitchen,” Elyse marveled.

“I know. It’s pretty amazing.” Taylor fetched a glass and the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon she’d opened when she got home.

“Does Manning cook?” her mother asked curiously.

“Not much. He has a personal chef who comes in four days a week.” Taylor chuckled. “He says he got spoiled while he was at Morehouse because he came home for dinner practically every night, and then in grad school he had a Jamaican roommate who loved to cook, so he never went hungry. But he’s been taking lessons from his mom and his cousin, Michael.”

“The celebrity chef?”

“Yes.” Taylor handed her mother the glass of wine. “He also does a lot of entertaining and has his family over all the time. His mom cooks whenever she’s here, and since she’s used to cooking for a family of seven, she appreciates having all this space to work with.”

Elyse smiled. “So this kitchen isn’t
entirely
wasted on Manning.”

Taylor grinned. “Not entirely.”

Elyse nosed the rich, aromatic wine and then took an experimental sip. “Mmm. That is an
excellent
Cab.”

Taylor smiled. “Glad it meets your approval. I know what a wine snob you are.”

Elyse chuckled, sipping more as she took note of the distinctive label on the expensive bottle.

“Before you leave, I’ll give you a tour of the wine cellar downstairs,” Taylor offered.

“I’d like that.” Elyse raised her glass to her lips again, then paused and gave Taylor a speculative look. “You’re not having any?”

“I am. My glass is in the living room. Shall we?” Taylor picked up the bottle of wine and led her mother from the kitchen.