Though now a Canadian citizen, he’d been born in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, on April 23, thirty-four years ago. He traveled often and mostly to exotic places like Turkey, Russia, The Far East, Morocco and Greece.
She thumbed through the pages. His most recent port of call had been Cairo; his most far-flung Rarotonga. He’d visited Rio de Janeiro twice in the last three years and the southern Baja four times. What with jaunts all over the world and house calls to his current ladylove, it was a wonder he found time to work!
Annoyed at being kept waiting, Lily slapped the passport closed and turned to glare across the street at the house he’d entered, only to find her view blocked by Sebastian Caine’s tall figure. Completely unmindful of the rain pelting down, he stood beside her window, glaring right back at her.
At the realization that she’d been caught blatantly prying into something that was absolutely none of her business, her whole body blushed, starting at her toes and spreading in waves until the blood suffused her face and left it burning. Even her throat and eyeballs felt parched. She could neither swallow nor blink. She simply sat in paralyzed horror and prayed he was a mirage created by the rain weaving patterns down the glass.
At best, it was an unlikely alternative and one he soon disabused her of by striding around the back of the car and wrenching open the driver’s door.
Of course, there was no justifying what she’d been caught doing. Still, she felt compelled to try. “It was lying on the floor,” she blustered, the minute he climbed into the car.
He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. His raised eyebrows told her plainly enough what he thought of that as an excuse.
“So I picked it up. A passport’s not something to be left lying around, you know.”
He leaned back in his seat and continued his frigid, unblinking regard.
Self-preservation told her she was merely digging herself in deeper with every word and that her best bet was to keep quiet. But his silence, charged with unspoken accusation as it was, unnerved her. “I mean, it could just as easily have fallen out on the road without your noticing, and I’m sure you know what a hassle it is trying to get a replacement…. Particularly if you needed to travel overseas in a hurry… Not to mention the ramifications of some underworld figure getting hold of it and putting it to criminal use…and…well…”
“Are you quite done?” he asked, when she finally ran out of steam.
She looked down, realized she was still clutching the passport and hurriedly dropped it into his lap. “Yes.”
“Thank God!”
He tossed the passport over his shoulder, and eased the car out of its parking spot. The rush hour was in full swing by then, which made it a bit easier for her to tolerate his aloof silence since she had no wish to distract him from the job of negotiating the heavy traffic. But when the city limits lay far behind them and the only sound to break the twilight hush was the frenzied swipe of the windshield wipers, she decided they’d both sulked long enough.
“I’m afraid,” she said, slewing a glance at him, “that we got off to a rocky start and I’d like to apologize for my part in that.”
His shrug of acknowledgment could hardly be construed as encouraging.
Still, she persevered. “I really don’t make a habit of going through other people’s private possessions, you know. But you were gone longer than you led me to expect and I was just looking for something to read.”
He favored her with a scathing glance. “In that case, I suppose I should count myself lucky that you stopped with my passport. There must be at least a dozen legal files back there, which would have provided you with much juicier entertainment and after you’d read your fill, you could have blackmailed me for breaching lawyer-client confidentiality.”
“I didn’t know you’re a lawyer.”
“And I didn’t know you’re a meddlesome busybody, so that makes us even.”
She shifted in her seat, the better to observe him. He really was quite outstandingly good-looking. “Why are you so determined to dislike me, Sebastian?”
“I have no feelings toward you, one way or the other, Ms. Talbot. I already told you, you’re an inconvenience, but I’ll get over that as soon as I’ve deposited you on Hugo’s doorstep.” He punctuated his statement with a telling pause before continuing, “Provided you don’t hurt him or anyone else I care about.”
“It’s obvious you think I’ll do exactly that.”
He swung his head and pinioned her in his cold blue stare, and she almost cringed at the expression she saw in their depths. “Let’s just say that, in my experience, the apple seldom falls far from the tree.”
She stared at him, more perplexed by the second. “Meaning?”
“Meaning if you’re anything like your mother—!”
But then, as if he’d given away more than he intended, he clamped his mouth shut and returned his attention to the road.
Lily, though, wasn’t so inclined to let the subject drop. “What do you know about my mother?”
“More than I care to.”
“Because of things Hugo’s told you?”
“Hugo had no contact with her for more than twenty-six years.”
“Exactly! Which make his opinions less than reliable.”
“Then for once we’re in agreement.” He flicked on the right turn indicator and slowed the car as they approached the neon-lit entrance to a restaurant set back about fifty yards from the road. “On which fortuitous note, I propose we stop for something to eat. Stentonbridge is still a good two hours’ drive away.”
Part of her wanted to tell him she was more interested in having him explain his cryptic remarks than she was in food. But another, more cautious part urged her not to pursue the topic. That he knew more than he was telling was plain enough, but although she’d come here looking for answers, she didn’t want them from him. Whether or not he’d admit it, there was too much anger seething beneath his surface, and she didn’t relish the idea of it bursting loose on some dark country road miles from anywhere.
She’d waited this long to find out the truth. She could wait a few hours longer.
She wasn’t what he’d anticipated. Watching her covertly as she studied the menu, he had trouble reconciling the woman sitting opposite him in the booth with his expectations of a vulgar, money-grubbing fortune hunter. He’d been prepared for flashy good looks, provocative necklines, big hair, fake fingernails and too much cheap jewelry. They fit the image. Lily Talbot did not.
Oh, he supposed she was pretty enough, in an ordinary sort of way. More than pretty, some might say. But the cheapness wasn’t there, no matter how hard he searched for it. She had narrow, elegant feet. Her hands were delicate, the nails well-cared for and buffed to a soft shine. Her features were small and regular. Patrician, almost. Her dark brown hair lay smooth and shining against her cheek. She looked out at the world from wide, candid eyes and she smiled a lot. Her mouth was permanently upturned at the corners, her lips soft
