Blue Clouds (18 page)

He looked truly put-upon as he strode off toward the other end of the pool. Maybe there were disadvantages to wealth and fame. Even a simple thing like a swim in a pool or a mild flirtation had time limits. That's all it was, Pippa reasoned. A mild flirtation. They were stranded out here all alone with no one else to distract them. It was normal male/female behavior. She'd have to see about finding a boyfriend in town.

She didn't want a boyfriend.

Sighing at her perverse nature, she wandered back toward Chad and his teacher. Chad had his father's charming personality. The boy cursed and thrashed and fought every minute of the way, but he persevered. She suspected she might see tears of frustration streaming down his cheeks if water hadn't already streamed from his hair. But he refused to give up. He wouldn't even get out of the pool when his instructor called for a rest.

Seth's loud curse as he flung the cordless phone back to the lounge drew Pippa's attention away from the pool. The pure frustration written across his screwed-up features warmed her heart. She wanted to pat that broad, bronzed back and say, “There, there, it can't be that bad.” Why had God cursed her with this nurturing nature? It was a wonder she didn't take up the care and feeding of vipers while she was at it.

“Someone bombed the Japanese printing plant?” she asked pleasantly. “Your latest book didn't make the Times list?” Teasing him added some distance, but not enough. His look of fury only tickled her toes.

“My mother's at the gate.” Glancing up, he focused his fury on her. “You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Smiling inside, Pippa lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. “I only told her you were too busy with the school board and Chad's therapist right now to come visit her.”

She could almost see the venom in his eyes. Odd, she'd thought vipers had venom in their teeth.

“I'll get even with you for this.”

He stalked off, pulling on a shirt as he did so. Well, that took care of the swimming lessons for the day.

Now, what else could she do to turn Tyrant Tarant into a human being again?

“Seth, dear, fetch my cosmetic case, will you? I know I brought it. It must still be downstairs somewhere.”

Lillian Wyatt's strident voice carried from the upper loft to the open foyer where Pippa waited. She glanced at Doug, who shrugged his massive shoulders, looked around at the baggageless entrance, and sidled toward the door.

“Check her car again,” Pippa whispered before he could escape. “And take real good care of her driver or you'll be the one driving her around.”

“I'll quit first,” he grumbled, reaching for the door. “Somebody shoulda put her out of her misery long ago.”

The phone rang in the office behind her and, distracted, Pippa let Doug escape. She could hear Seth's low, rumbling voice reply to his mother's querulous tones, and was amazed at his patience. She'd expected him to throw her over the balcony.

Even as she answered the phone and directed the call, she listened for voices in the hall. Chad would be coming in soon. How would Mrs. Wyatt treat her only grandchild? Chad needed a female influence in his life, if only to soften the hard edges so similar to his father's.

What was she thinking? Lillian Wyatt had raised Seth without any noticeable softening. She really ought to learn the trick of minding her own business and looking out for herself.

But she couldn't. Looking after others was so ingrained that she'd postponed her own life as a result. She couldn't—wouldn't—go looking for still another case to nurse at the expense of her own future. Let Lillian Wyatt look after Chad.

Even as she thought that, the plump, pleasant, pepper-and- salt-haired therapist appeared in the doorway.

“Excuse me, Miss Cochran, but our lesson is over for the day. Do you think someone could show me the gym that is being remodeled? Mr. Wyatt asked for my suggestions.”

Outside the office, Lillian Wyatt's whining tones had escalated to anger. Seth's patient reply sounded a little frayed around the edges.

As the idea struck her, Pippa flinched. She just couldn't keep from getting involved. With a bright smile, she punched the voice mail button and gestured for the therapist to precede her out of the room. Tomorrow, or the next day, she would practice noninvolvement.

“If you'll wait a few minutes, Mrs. Turner, I'll speak with Mr. Wyatt. I believe he wants to inspect the premises also.”

Wondering if she'd truly lost her mind , Pippa hurried up the stairs and into the rampaging storm.

“Excuse me, Mr. Wyatt.” She halted in the open doorway of the spacious master suite Lillian Wyatt had sailed into as if it were her own. As it had been at one time , Pippa surmised.

The look of relief on Seth's face was so obvious, Pippa almost laughed aloud. The rueful apology in his eyes as he edged toward her made her day. Seth Wyatt might be big and strong, more worldly, talented, and wealthy than she'd ever be, but he had a definite zero IQ in personal relationships.

“Mrs. Turner is ready to inspect the facilities now. I'll have Doug bring around the car. Did you want Chad to go with you?”

With proper arrogance, Seth nodded curtly. “Of course, Miss Cochran. Have him meet me outside.” He turned to Lillian, who followed the tableau with suspicion. “Mother, I have an appointment. Nana will look for your missing luggage. If you'll excuse me?”

He hurried after Pippa, closing the door on his mother's rising protests. “You sounded just like Miss MacGregor,” he whispered approvingly. “What facilities are we inspecting and can it take a week?”

“We're inspecting the gym and unless you're moving it to Alaska, no, I don't think it can take a week.” Pippa turned down the wing leading to Chad's room but glanced back at her crestfallen employer. “You do have an appointment with your lawyer in L.A. this evening, so you can be absent for dinner with good excuse.”

“Thank God,” Seth whispered reverently, shoving open the door to his room. A sudden recollection turned his expression suspicious. “What appointment with my lawyer?”

“The one I just made.” Grinning cheekily, Pippa hurried off to find Chad.

A quarter of an hour and a few phone calls later, Pippa had the expedition arranged to her satisfaction. Nana had scolded Lillian Wyatt into submission and quiet reigned in that part of the house. Chad chattered happily as Pippa steered him out the front door and down the ramp installed just for him.

“I floated, didn't I? You saw me float,” Chad announced to the world as Doug hurried to help him into the new Mercedes.

“We saw you float, cowboy, now let's hear you quiet. My ears are still ringing.” Pippa ruffled his hair affectionately, then stepped away from the car as Seth approached.

“Get in the back with Chad, Miss Cochran. I'll ride up front with Doug.” Seth held the car door, impatiently waiting for her obedience.

“I'll ride with Mrs. Turner.”

He'd changed into a casual black golf shirt, open at the collar, and he'd shaved with something light and refreshing that smelled like lemon and lime. The impact hit Pippa in her lower abdomen, and she inched away carefully.

“Nonsense. Get in. I want to talk about those chapters you typed last night.”

Okay, so that's what an assistant did. She could deal with it. Gesturing to Mrs. Turner in the car behind them, Pippa climbed into the backseat with Chad. The scent of new leather engulfed her, alleviating the impact of Seth's subtle aftershave as he climbed in and closed the door.

Seth discussed alternative gruesome deaths for his deadly gopher as the Mercedes glided down the drive and through the gates, but Pippa sensed his thoughts were elsewhere. She suspected that, if they were alone, he would have a good deal more to say to her, and none of it pleasant. But he let Chad add his enthusiastic suggestions without complaint, and the ride continued in an amicable fashion.

Knowing what waited at the other end, Pippa was certain Seth's good humor wouldn't last.

The battered van waiting outside the gym lifted her spirits. Meg hadn't been a cheerleader for nothing. She rallied round the home team at any call.

Ignoring Seth's ominous silence, Pippa helped with Chad's chair, greeted Mrs. Turner as she parked her Escort, and chattered aimlessly as they approached the gym.

Seth scowled at the rusting metal doors, remained stonily silent as he held one open, and crossed his arms and leaned against the gym wall after they entered.

Pippa contemplated kicking him, but decided that wasn't conducive to a pleasant atmosphere. Instead, she greeted Meg and Mikey, leaving Seth sulking in the shadows of the entrance.

Meg had brought several of the other children she'd mentioned. Pippa kept a reassuring hand on Chad's shoulder as he eyed the strangers warily. Tension vibrated from the boy. There was nothing laid-back and easygoing about these Wyatt men. Their intensity could fuel rockets.

“When Mikey introduces you, find something nice to say to each of them, or smile real big when you say hello, and you'll be halfway there,” she whispered into his ear as Mikey wheeled his chair forward.

Chad nodded stiffly, and pulling away from her steadying hand, entered the arena alone. The kid had courage, Pippa thought proudly.

Meg emitted a soft whistle beside her. “All you can do is pray, Pippa. I have my rosary in my pocket.” She glanced furtively over her shoulder at the doorway. “That wouldn't be Seth himself back there, would it? How'd you pull that off?”

“I'll tell you another time,” Pippa murmured. “Mrs. Turner, shall we show you around?” she asked aloud.

As Meg and the therapist consulted over Mikey's condition, Pippa stepped back. The children were circling each other, one doing somersaults to show off, while another stood shyly, holding a malformed arm. Chad didn't look any more or less uncertain than the others. Nodding in satisfaction, she turned to see if Seth had disappeared yet

He'd wandered from the doorway to examine an old rope hanging from the deteriorating ceiling. Giving it a hard tug, he brought it down in a shower of rotten plaster.

The kids cheered, and at Chad's instigation, ran, wheeled, and skipped over to examine the gaping hole.

“Good work, cowboy,” Pippa said wryly, strolling over to join them. “Gonna lasso a dogie now?”

“A doe-gie?” he asked, imitating her accent. “Let me guess, you grew up on old Westerns.”

“Hey, Dad, can we have that rope?”

“Depends on what you're going to do with it.” Seth gazed absently at the hole in the ceiling, dangling the rope in his hand.

“Play tug-of-war,” Mikey replied excitedly. “I seen 'em do it on TV.”

“Saw them,” Seth and Chad chimed together.

Pippa laughed and pinged her finger on Chad's head. “It's impolite to correct others. And if you play tug-of-war, you're likely to jerk each other out of your chairs.”

“That's okay, Pippa, I can get back in mine by myself,” Mikey declared proudly.

“All right, but you all have to share. Divide up by ages, the youngest with the oldest to balance out.”

“I can only hold with one hand,” the girl with the unformed arm said hesitantly.

“That's okay, you've got two legs,” Chad chided. “Come on. Let's do it over there, away from this mess.”

As the children raced excitedly across the warped floor, Pippa dared a swift glance at Seth.

He stood as if stunned, staring after the children. Apparently sensing her gaze, he blinked, and shut down his expression.

He lifted an imperious eyebrow. “You have a question?”

“No, just an observation. Your son has the makings of a true leader.”

Seth's frozen features almost softened. “Or a bully, depending on circumstances,” he agreed.

“I hadn't thought about that. There's a fine line, isn't there?” Pippa watched all traces of shyness between the children disappear as an animated discussion over ages and teams ensued.

“And now you'll tell me it's adult guidance that will determine which path he follows.” Seth shoved his hands into his pockets and glared at the noisy group as if he could force the right decision with the power of his vision. “And if you tell me I haven't got what it takes, I'll fire you.”

Pippa chuckled. “I'm stupid, but not that stupid. Anyway, I was going to say that a lot of it
isn't
in your hands. Peer pressure, the child's own nature, anything can mold a character. Maybe Meg has the right idea—pray a lot.”

“Right, and throw coins in a fountain. I—”

“Mr. Wyatt, could we speak with you a minute? We've had an idea for the shower room.”

Seth threw a disgruntled look toward the two women across the room. “You had to drag me into this, didn't you?” he said in an aside to Pippa.

“You could have stayed home with your mother,” Pippa replied cheerfully, leading the way since it was obvious Seth would drag his feet otherwise.