Beyond Eden (31 page)

“Perhaps. I thought about you, and only you, focused on you, I guess, because I didn't want all the horrible scenes at the mansion to eat away at me. I wanted you even before I saw you. All I could think about was you. And when I saw you
standing there, looking so sane, so reasonable, and warm, and you wanted me and didn't hate me, I guess—I don't know.”

“Lindsay?”

“Yes?”

“Don't leave me. Don't run away from me again. Whatever disturbs you, whatever frightens you, just don't leave me. Talk to me, or just sit and stare at me. Even turn your back on me. Just don't run. I love you and together we can work it out. Could you try to believe that?”

Silence.

“I'll even let you buy me a hot dog down at the museum to celebrate your new wealth.”

She pulled back in the circle of his arm. She looked at him, saying nothing, and then she smiled. “Okay, I won't run out on you. It's time to stop that, isn't it? I'm not a stupid kid anymore, something I've told myself a lot lately. No, not a kid who can be kicked around and carved to the bone with cruel words. No, I'm an adult now, and adults are supposed to think calmly and to exercise power over themselves.”

“Amen,” he said, not quite certain what she meant.

But that Saturday afternoon, after they'd come back from running in the park, Taylor was to learn that life had a way of always serving up new and varied and perverse dishes on one's plate.

Taylor was in the shower, having beaten Lindsay in the coin toss over who'd be first. The other bathroom in this magnificent, very old-fashioned apartment held an old claw-foot tub and as yet they hadn't hung a shower curtain around it. Neither of them wanted to sit in his own running sweat.

He was happy, and whistling and scrubbing, feeling better than he'd felt in his life. Unfortunately, he had his father's voice, but who cared? He soaped up and grinned, feeling real hope for the first time. Lindsay was engaged to him and she'd opened up and given herself to him. He'd had the greatest sex in his life, and that had been the biggest surprise of all.

In truth, Taylor had doubted his sex life would ever be the same again. He'd pictured, in grimmer moments, a willing but terrified Lindsay in bed, trembling when he touched her, lying stiff and cold, suffering him, enduring. It had chilled his blood. But last night—

He came out of their bedroom still whistling, dressed in tight jeans and a dark blue turtleneck sweater. He walked toward the living room because he heard a woman's voice. He thought it was probably Gayle Werth.

He was on the point of coming into the room
when he saw, not Gayle, but a stunning woman dressed in black leather that fitted her perfect body perfectly. She was standing in front of Lindsay, who was seated, looking for the world like a disobedient schoolchild being berated by the mistress. He couldn't help himself. He stopped and he listened.

“ . . . oh, yes, Lindsay,” the woman was saying in a sweet voice that made his blood curdle, “Father still wants your head. He thought—as he made perfectly clear—that you were a malicious, evil little slut. But you heard him. He rather lost it, unfortunately. However, I think he's willing to reconsider his opinion of you if you do what you should, if you do what is right, and that is, of course, to reverse the inheritance. The money should have gone to him and you know it. He's not sure you'll ever understand, which is why I'm here speaking for him. I told him you would come about when you'd had time to think about it. I told him you were very upset by Grandmother's death, and your mother's, of course, and it was clouding your judgment. I told him not to underestimate you, Lindsay. You aren't stupid, I told him. You aren't selfish and greedy. You would do what is right, what is just.”

There was complete silence for several moments. Taylor knew he should come into the living room, knew he should end this, but he didn't move, not yet. He heard Lindsay say, vague puzzlement in her voice, “But you didn't say much, Sydney, just something about deep waters. And now you're here as Father's emissary. You're here as his lawyer.”

“Yes, to put it baldly. More than that, I'm here as his daughter and your sister. I'm here to try to mend fences and make you see reason. You know how proud Father is. It's difficult for him to bend, to modify his beliefs.” She paused a moment and
laughed. “You should have stayed just awhile longer. Delmartin phoned after he left you at the airport and told Holly that she wasn't to touch the house or else there would be swift legal action. The silly bitch was howling with rage. It was very diverting. I enjoyed watching her drink herself into a whining stupor. Father is already talking about sending her on her way. She's a drag on him now. He can't count on her at social functions because of her drinking. And all the weight she's gained—she looks like a blimp. No, it won't be long now before Holly is gone. But our father, Lindsay, that's different now. He's what's important. It's his money and he must have it. As I said, he doesn't think you'll be reasonable, but I told him I know you better and you would be. You love him and you won't want to hurt him, not like Grandmother did.”

“You want me to sign all my inheritance over to him?”

“Oh, keep some of it, certainly, but the bulk should go to Father. Don't you agree? He was next in line, after all. Moreover, you will still have your mother's money. What is that? About five million or so?”

“Am I to keep a million dollars of Grandmother's money?”

“Why not? It's not really an insult to you, just to Father.”

“Won't Father believe I'm a selfish slut if I do?”

“I'll speak to him. I'll make him understand.”

“Do you really think I could buy his love by giving him all Grandmother's money?”

“Don't be a fool, Lindsay. He loves you. It's just that he came to despise your mother, and unfortunately, that spilled over onto you. But now, why,
yes, I think he would certainly come to look at you differently were you to do what is right now.”

“It seems strange to think of him behaving any differently toward me now.”

“He would. I promise you that. Will you sign the papers? I brought them with me.”

“Shouldn't Grandmother's wishes count in this? Don't you believe she should have the right to do whatever she pleased with her money? It wasn't Father's, it was hers.”

“He is—was—her only son. Her money is his, by right, by blood, by what is ethical and just. Now, here are the papers. They're very straightforward. I worked with the lawyer myself so that you could understand them. Will you sign the papers now, Lindsay?”

Taylor wanted to rush in, but again he stopped himself. This was Lindsay's problem, her decision. She sounded perfectly calm, so calm in fact that it worried him a bit. He waited, nearly holding his breath.

And she said then, in that same very calm voice, “I don't think so, Sydney.”

“Now, you listen to me, Lindsay, I won't put up with any of your—” But Sydney didn't finish. She turned as she spoke, to see a gorgeous man standing in the living-room doorway. A man she'd never seen before. She saw that he was fresh from the shower. He looked tough and lean and hard, just the sort of man she enjoyed. Dark and rugged. She realized with a shock that he lived here, lived with her sister, and it astounded her, made her feel like she was in the wrong apartment. Sydney couldn't accept it. There had to be a mistake, the man had to be the electrician or something. Lindsay wouldn't let a man within six feet of her,
particularly not a man like this one. This man was dangerous. He'd take what he wanted. Jesus, this man would make mincemeat out of Lindsay. It was then that Sydney noticed for the first time the brilliant diamond on Lindsay's finger. An engagement ring. An incredibly beautiful engagement ring. She couldn't take it in. There had to be some mistake. There had to be another explanation.

“My God! Who is this, Lindsay?”

Lindsay whipped about to see Taylor, smiling at her, looking questioningly toward Sydney. She tried to smile. She tried to make the muscles move, and they did a bit, making the smile a travesty. She'd wanted to keep Taylor away from Sydney, and when her half-sister had come in, she'd known, deep down, that it wouldn't be possible. Very well, then. She said mildly, “This is my fiancé, S. C. Taylor. Taylor, this is my half-sister, Princess Sydney di Contini.”

“Taylor,” Sydney repeated, staring at the man. She was shaking her head as she said, “Are you really engaged to Lindsay? No, come on now, it's a joke, right? What are you doing here? Are you here to fix the heating? Are you gay? Is that why Lindsay let you stay here?”

Lindsay heard the absolute incredulity in Sydney's voice. She'd even called Taylor gay to try to justify his presence to herself. It was too much. What would he do? What would he say? She looked from Taylor to her sister, who was regarding him in helpless wonder, looking so beautiful that no man could resist her. She felt jealousy, ugly and deep, knife through her. Was it really so absurd a notion that a man could be engaged to her? Yes, it was.

Now Sydney was staring at Taylor, her hand held
out to him, her body leaning forward, that soft invitation in her expression. Taylor, to Lindsay's relieved astonishment, looked at the vision who was Sydney and merely nodded. “Lindsay's half-sister? A pleasure, ma'am.”

“Ma'am? What a horrid thing to call me. Like I'm an old bag or something equally distasteful.”

Taylor merely continued his slow perusal, and Sydney, unnerved, looked toward Lindsay, who was looking for the world as if someone had slapped her silly. She looked confused and vague and stupid. “Wherever did you two meet each other? And why didn't you say anything about him, Lindsay? I was with you yesterday, for goodness' sake.”

Taylor said easily, “Why don't you sit down? Since you're her half-sister, I guess it's okay to tell you that I met Lindsay on a job a couple of months ago. I was hired to protect her. Now I protect her for free.”

“You're a kind of bodyguard? Well, I should have guessed that. Just look at you, after all. Did you become engaged after you found out she was so very rich, Taylor? This all came about last night?”

“No, Sydney, it didn't just come about,” Taylor said and smiled at her.

Sydney knew with sudden insight that she'd made a very big mistake. “I've heard a lot about you, Sydney,” he said in that mild voice, as if she wasn't worth yelling at. “I can see that you're excellent at what you are. You man all your gun ports, firing at random. An interesting approach. I wouldn't employ it myself, but perhaps you've found over the years that it tends to work. Those occasional hits must be pretty destructive to the enemy.”

“You're being quite silly,” Sydney said, but Lindsay saw that she was looking a bit wary now. How could Taylor know about Sydney? She'd never said a word about her. Yet he knew, he recognized what she was.

Sydney continued quickly, “Lindsay wasn't wearing an engagement ring in San Francisco. If you were indeed already engaged to her, then why wasn't she wearing the ring?”

Lindsay said, “I took it off because I didn't want any questions. We were all there for the funerals, not celebrations and congratulations.”

Taylor wished she'd worn the damned ring. She'd been too afraid to own up. She'd been too afraid of the attacks, the questions, the mocking. He wondered how long it would take to change that.

“But there was so much more, wasn't there, Lindsay? Have you told Taylor exactly how wealthy you really are?”

“Look, Sydney, I'm sweaty and tired and I imagine that you have lots to do. When are you going back to Milan? When is Father expecting to hear from you?”

Sydney didn't immediately answer. She was staring at Taylor, frowning. “Did you say you were protecting Lindsay?”

“That's right.”

“Are you a private investigator?”

“That's right, among other things.”

“My God, you're Valerie's Taylor!”

Taylor felt the big punch right in his gut. He wished this damned woman would just shut her mouth, get up and leave, but he knew it wasn't to be. No, he was about to be pinned.

Again his voice was mild, bland with disinterest. “You know Valerie Balack? I'm not really
surprised. The two of you are really quite similar. I dated Valerie for a while there, nothing more, nothing less.”

But Sydney was staring at him and he knew at that moment that she and Valerie shared confidences and he'd been one of the confidences. His performance? Both in and out of bed?

Sydney sent a sideways glance at Lindsay, who was standing now to Taylor's left, stiff as a cane. She smiled, a pitying smile that made Taylor want to smack her. “Perhaps I should introduce Lindsay to Valerie. The two of them could compare notes. Women enjoy doing that, you know. Valerie was always impressed with your endurance, that, and your ability to bring—Well, never mind that. What do you think, Lindsay?”

Lindsay stepped forward now and Taylor had no idea what would come out of her mouth. She said again, “I'm very tired, Sydney. I would like to take a shower. Are you here simply to make me change my mind? If you wish, you can leave your legal papers here. I will read them and think about it. Could you leave now?”

“You are smelling sweaty, Lindsay, and you do look on edge with your hair plastered against your head. But, my dear sister, your fiancé here and this whole business with Valerie—”

“What Taylor did with whom before we met is his business. It doesn't matter to me. Get on with it, Sydney. Do you have anything else to say? Do you want to leave the papers?”

Sydney looked to Taylor, then shook her head. “No, I won't leave the papers today. I'll call and we'll arrange a meeting between the two of us.”

“Fine. Good-bye.”

“My, but you seem to have gained a modicum
of confidence with your guy sitting here. Actually, you showed some guts in San Francisco. I admit to being surprised. Father was quite hurt. Because of the hunk here? Is that why you're going to marry him, Lindsay? Because he'll protect you when you can't do it yourself?”

Taylor rose quietly. He even smiled toward Sydney. “There you go again, firing at random. No hits for you this time. Perhaps you'll excuse us now, Princess. We're both very tired. I'll see you to the door.”

Sydney looked triumphant and Lindsay wished Taylor had stayed seated, his mouth shut, and let her deal with Sydney. She could have dealt with her this time. At least she could have tried. At least Sydney hadn't ground her under this time, despite her salvos, her random hits, as Taylor called them. Lindsay fought the familiar tug of the loser, the way she usually felt around Sydney. When would the feelings go away? When could she face Sydney and simply not care what she said? She watched Taylor escort Sydney out of the living room. She heard her sister's heels click on the marble entrance tiles. She could picture Sydney smiling up at Taylor, giving him a look that would turn most men into slave material. But not Taylor.

She heard Sydney laugh, heard her say, “This is a beautiful place, Taylor. Will you let Lindsay pay for all of it now? And that diamond! Goodness, that must have set you back. Valerie told me, though, now that I think about it, that you weren't poor—not up to our standards, certainly, but not poor by any means. And now you're hooked up with my little half-sister. My very rich little half-sister. Has she let you take her to bed yet?”