Seducing the Wolf (25 page)

He nodded and trailed after the hostess as Taylor veered off in the direction of Manning’s table. He watched her approach with a dark intensity that heated her flesh beneath the boho baby doll dress she wore.

Caitlyn followed the direction of his gaze, her eyes coolly appraising Taylor from the top of her curly head down to her French-pedicured toes. When her face hardened with malicious envy, Taylor knew she’d been analyzed and identified as a Level One Threat.

And it felt good.
Damn
good.

As she reached the table, Manning rose to greet her, murmuring her name like a soft caress. She leaned up to kiss his cheek, letting her lips linger long enough to make him shiver. Just that small reaction, that show of weakness, gave her a trill of feminine satisfaction.

It got even better when she turned around and saw the wide-eyed, slack-jawed expression on Caitlyn’s face. “
Taylor Chastain
?”

“Hello, Caitlyn,” she said smoothly.

Caitlyn raked her with another once-over—the “bitch staredown” Gabby had described. Her hazel eyes darkened with hatred, and she shot a silent look of accusation at Manning. But he was staring at Taylor.

She couldn’t help noting that he didn’t look guilty or nervous about getting caught at a restaurant with another woman.

Unlike Aidan.

“Well, isn’t
this
a lovely reunion?” Caitlyn’s brittle tone suggested it was anything but lovely. “So, Taylor, what brings you to Atlanta?”

“I’m doing a summer program at Emory.”

“Oh? You teach?” Caitlyn smiled condescendingly. “How noble.”

“Well, considering that my mother began her career as a teacher,” Manning calmly interjected, “I agree wholeheartedly that it
is
a noble profession—”

Caitlyn visibly shrank inside her designer pantsuit.

“—but what Taylor is too modest to tell you is that she’s a world-renowned, Grammy-winning violinist. You might be forgiven for not knowing that if you’re unfamiliar with classical music—unlike the couple at that table who looks like they’re seconds away from rushing over here to get Taylor’s autograph.”

Caitlyn glanced across the restaurant, then forced her facial muscles to relax into some semblance of a smile as she turned back to Taylor and marveled, “Wow. A famous violinist? And a Grammy winner too? Good for you, Taylor.”

“Thank you, Caitlyn.”

She glanced at Taylor’s left hand. “No husband?”

“Not yet. You?”

She shrugged. “I’ve been down the aisle.”

Taylor looked pointedly at her bare ring finger. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

Caitlyn’s mouth tightened.

“Who’s your lunch date, Taylor?” Manning was staring across the room, a muscle flexing in his jaw.

She followed the direction of his gaze to the table where Ken sat watching them with undisguised curiosity.

She smiled. “Oh, he’s an old friend of mine. The one I told you about.”

Manning frowned. “I don’t remember you mentioning any old friends.”

“I did.” Taylor met his gaze. “That night in your limo.”

At this revelation, Caitlyn’s eyes narrowed with angry displeasure. “So how long will you be in town, Taylor?” she interjected.

“Just until July sixteenth,” she answered. “What about you? Are you just visiting? Or do you live here?”

“Actually,” Caitlyn said smugly, “I’m interviewing for the general counsel position at Wolf Biotech. So it’s highly possible that I’ll be relocating to Atlanta very soon.”

“Oh, really?” Taylor’s stomach twisted with jealousy at the thought of Caitlyn working for Manning. She imagined them sharing updates over coffee every morning and getting together for drinks after work. She imagined them alone in his office after everyone else had gone home. She imagined them screwing on his desk…the floor…the table…the sofa.
Her
table.
Her
sofa.

“No decision’s been made yet,” Manning clarified, frowning as if he’d read Taylor’s mind. “We’re still interviewing finalists.”

“Hmm. You might want to tell Saul Rutledge that,” Caitlyn drawled. “He all but offered me the job last night over dinner.”

Manning’s eyes narrowed.

Before he could respond, Caitlyn returned her attention to Taylor and sighed. “I was just telling Manning that we should stop playing games and just tie the knot. See, we’ve been friends with benefits over the years—”

“That’s enough, Caitlyn,” Manning growled.

She shut up. But the damage had already been done, and she knew it. Her eyes gleamed with vicious satisfaction as she watched Taylor’s reaction, watched her absorb the knowledge that while Manning had ignored her letters and callously severed her from his life, he’d kept Caitlyn around as a friend and a lover.

It was too much to take.

Plastering on a smile that felt as brittle as cracked glass, Taylor said coolly, “Well, let me not keep you two from your lunch any longer. It was nice seeing you both.”

Manning reached for her arm. “Taylor—”

She’d already turned and walked away. She could feel him watching her, could feel the searing heat of his gaze boring into her. She didn’t look back.

Halfway to her table, she was stopped by a middle-aged white couple—the fans Manning had mentioned. After they raved about how much they’d loved her music ever since they saw her at Carnegie Hall, they thanked her for finally coming to Atlanta and told her they couldn’t wait to attend the upcoming concert. Always grateful to meet her fans, Taylor autographed the couple’s shirts, posed for a picture with them and warmly thanked them for their support.

When she reached her table, Ken stood and gallantly pulled out her chair for her. “Little Miss Celebrity,” he teased. “I should totally hate you, you know. We both graduated from Juilliard, but you’re the only one who has legions of adoring fans. You’re the only one who’s performed with Yo-Yo Ma and Itzhak Perlman. Yes, ma’am, I have every reason to hate your guts.”

Taylor smiled sweetly. “But you don’t. You tried to hate me back in college, but I was just too lovable for you to resist.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Ken grumbled good-naturedly.

What had begun as a rivalry between two fiercely ambitious music majors had quickly evolved into a friendship that would go beyond the walls of Juilliard. Though their careers had taken them down different paths, they’d remained in each other’s lives. Ken had visited Taylor in Paris several times over the years; between those visits, they’d kept in touch through phone calls and emails. Even if weeks passed with no communication between them, they’d always been able to pick up right where they’d left off.

“By the way,” Taylor said archly, “I must debunk what you said about not having as many fans as I do. The students whose lives you’ve impacted year after year would definitely call themselves members of the Ken Huang Fan Club. So would your colleagues in the music department, who couldn’t stop raving about you while you were gone.”

Ken’s expression softened. “They did?”

“They sure did. I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about you from your peers and your students, which is quite a number of people. So what were you saying about not having ‘legions of adoring fans’?”

Ken smiled at Taylor, placing his hand over his heart in a gesture of utmost gratitude. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

She blew him a kiss. “Back atcha, baby.”

They both laughed.

After a few minutes of perusing the menu, Taylor sighed. Her appetite had gone south the moment she saw Manning and Caitlyn together. “I can’t decide what to order. What do you recommend?”

“Try the smoked trout—it’s really good. I’m thinking about getting it myself.” As Ken glanced down at the menu, a shock of straight black hair fell over his forehead. He absently pushed it back with an elegant flick of his wrist. He was an attractive man, medium height and naturally lithe with keen dark eyes that suddenly lifted to stare accusingly at Taylor. “By the way, I thought we were supposed to be friends.”

She gave him a bemused look. “We are.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you tell me you know Manning Wolf, who only happens to be one of Hotlanta’s most eligible bachelors? More to the point, why didn’t you tell me that you two have the hots for each other?”

Taylor’s face heated. Surprised, she stared at Ken. “Who says we do?”

He snorted. “You can’t be serious. I could feel the sexual tension all the way across the room. And the way he was glaring at me made me wish for the first time in my life that I’d spent more time learning kung fu than playing the violin. Seriously, Chastain. I thought my life was in danger for a minute there.”

Taylor said nothing, picking up her glass and taking a long sip of water.

“You’ve barely been here a week,” Ken said. “So when exactly did you meet Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome?”

“A long time ago,” Taylor said quietly.

“Really? How long ago?”

She hesitated. “He was my childhood sweetheart.”

“Ah,” Ken murmured, nodding sympathetically. “And he hurt you.”

“Something like that.”

Ken studied her for a long moment. “When I first met you at Juilliard, you reminded me of a wounded little bird. Not that you seemed weak or fragile. Just…hurt. Even after we became friends and you told me what had happened to your younger brother, I knew there was much more to the story…more to your pain. You had secrets. I was drawn to that.”

Their eyes met in a moment of shared understanding. Ken knew all about harboring secrets. For as long as Taylor had known him, he’d been hiding his sexual orientation from his strict Chinese parents, who would sooner disown him than accept having a gay son.

Ken absently twisted the base of his water glass around on the table. “Is Manning Wolf the reason you’ve never come to Atlanta?”

Taylor held his gaze for a long moment. “Yes,” she admitted.

An intuitive gleam filled Ken’s eyes. “Then he must be the reason you’re here now.”

“I’m here because you invited me,” she countered.

“I did. And now I’m wishing I’d invited you a hell of a lot sooner.”

Taylor was silent, carefully draping her linen napkin across her lap.

Ken watched her. “I take it there’s no love lost between you and his lovely lunch companion.”

Taylor gave him a wry look. “Was it that obvious?”

He chuckled. “I’m afraid so. At one point I thought…” He trailed off, lifting a perfectly shaped brow as he stared past her shoulder. “Well…
this
is interesting.”

“What?” Taylor mumbled.

“Manning’s already paying the bill.”

“What’s so interesting about that?”

“Well, their meals just arrived and he hasn’t even touched his food. Is he…oh, dear, I think he is...”

“He is what?” Taylor prompted, fighting the urge to glance over her shoulder.

“He’s leaving.”

“
Leaving
?”

Ken nodded. “He just got up and walked out on her.”

Taylor was surprised. “She’s not leaving with him?”

“Nope. He left her.” Ken
tsk-tsked
, his eyes dancing with amused glee. “Poor thing. She looks rather lonely and pathetic sitting there all by herself.”

Taylor couldn’t resist turning her head to see what Ken was talking about. Sure enough, Caitlyn sat alone at the table. She was staring down at her untouched plate of food, blinking rapidly as she fought back tears. She looked so humiliated that Taylor almost felt sorry for her.

At that moment, Caitlyn lifted her head and looked right at Taylor. Her mouth was tight, her eyes full of bitter resentment.

As Taylor calmly returned her stare, Caitlyn abruptly pushed back from the table, stood and stomped off with a toss of her hair. The waitress who began clearing the vacated table appeared to be struggling not to laugh.

Taylor turned away, meeting Ken’s knowing gaze.

“Hmm,” he pretended to speculate. “I wonder what
that
was about?”

“I have no idea,” she murmured.

When their waitress arrived to take their orders, Taylor smiled at her. “I’ll have the smoked trout with grilled fennel and risotto.”

She’d suddenly gotten her appetite back.

19

H
e was waiting for her when she left the performing arts center that afternoon.

Leaning against the back door of the black Bentley, he wore dark reflective sunglasses with a striped polo shirt, pleated chino trousers, and white and brown golf shoes. He shouldn’t have looked dark and dangerous while dressed like a preppy Ralph Lauren model. But he did, damn him.

Though Taylor wasn’t surprised to see him there, her pulse went haywire just the same. As memories of their lovemaking flooded her mind, she ached to feel him thrusting into her, coming deep and hard inside her.

“What’re you doing here?” Her voice was calm, though she was anything but.

“I came to give you a ride.”

“I don’t need one.” She looked around hoping to see her cab approaching, but there was no sign of it.