The Glory Game Part 24

"If things didn't work out for him with Claudia, would you and Dad go back together?"

Luz breathed in deeply, then exhaled in a heavy sigh. "That's a loaded question," she hedged. She doubted if any direct reply was possible. Maybe two months ago it might have been, but now, it didn't seem likely. "There's a lot of pride and hurt feelings involved-and he's married."

"I know Dad loves you and always will. He's told me that. Don't you still love him?" Trisha frowned.

Although she understood exactly the dream her daughter was cheris.h.i.+ng, she didn't believe it would ever come true. So much was destroyed that she wasn't sure how much love she had left for Drew. "You've always been the practical one, Trisha. You surely don't believe that Drew and I could pick up where we left off if something happened between him and Claudia."

"No, I guess not." She absently pulled off a piece from the croissant.

Luz watched her, afraid that she had somehow failed Trisha, that she hadn't been all a mother should be to a daughter-perhaps she was too much like her own mother. Or like last night, when she'd actually treated Trisha as a rival.

"I know we've had our differences in the past, Trisha," she began hesitantly. "And I haven't always understood. But I do love you. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes." An impatience seemed to push Trisha off the bed, her pajama-clad legs uncurling and carrying her to the serving table, where she brushed the pastry crumbs from her hand onto a plate. "Sometimes I just wish you'd let me grow up. You let me make my own decisions about some things, but I have to make my own mistakes, too, Luz."

"Like Raul, I suppose." A certain hardness entered her voice.

"If Raul is a mistake, then yes," she a.s.serted, then made a determined attempt to throw off the grimness. "It's after nine already. Rob should be arriving from the airport anytime now.

I'd better get dressed." She moved away toward the connecting door.

"Thanks for the morning coffee."

"Sure."

It wasn't a very satisfactory conclusion to their conversation. Luz rested the cup in its saucer, wondering why she could never say the right thing to her daughter. She could talk to Rob, but with Trisha she always came away with the feeling she had failed to make herself clear.

Outside her mother's door, Trisha paused. No matter what Luz said, she was convinced her mother objected to Raul solely because he was older. It wasn't fair. Luz was letting her bitterness and resentment over Drew's marriage to a younger woman color her opinion. All that business about a mother's prerogative was simple jealousy of any relations.h.i.+p between a younger woman and an older man. In a way, Trisha felt sorry for her, but that didn't alter her determination to pursue Raul.

The lock clicked and the main door to the suite opened. Rob walked into the sitting room, followed by the porter with his luggage. Trisha noticed his drawn, irritable look as he swung impatiently toward her.

"Which room is mine?" he demanded.

"That one." She pointed to a door. "And h.e.l.lo to you, too, brother dear."

"Sorry. h.e.l.lo." Immediately after the perfunctory greeting, he glanced at the porter and motioned to the door she had indicated. "Put the bags in there." Rob turned away from him and ran a hand over his hair, then wearily rubbed the back of his neck.

"Heavy night?" Trisha guessed.

His head came up slightly, his hand stopping its motion. There was an instant of sharpness in his expression, then he crooked his mouth in a rueful grin. "You could say that."

"Don't tell me. Let me guess. You had a farewell fling with Lady Cyn last night and sampled more of her sinful delights."

Rob looked at her askance. "What do you mean by that?"

"Come on, Rob," Trisha mocked. "You were with her, weren't you?"

"Yeah. So what?" he challenged.

"So I doubt that you sat around and held hands if half of what I heard about her is true. I'll bet she even taught you a few new things," she teased.

"A few," he admitted with a faintly secretive air.

"Is she as kinky as they claim?" Trisha asked.

Hesitating, Rob glanced at her. "She's not into whips and chains if that's what you mean. And I didn't find anything particularly kinky in her methods of getting turned on." He sounded defensive.

"Rob, you aren't serious about her, are you?" She frowned warily.

"Hardly," he scoffed. "She showed me how to have a good time and turned me on to some new ways. We got a little high together and had a little fun. That's it." He closed the discussion. "Where's Luz? Is she up yet?"

"Yeah. She's in her room having breakfast." She indicated the door behind her.

"I'd better let her know I'm here."

Trisha watched him walk by, then finally headed for her own room to shower.

The waters of the Seine reflected the colors of the buildings and trees that stood on its banks, and the sightseeing boats, the bateaux mouches, that traveled its wandering course. Luz strolled along the cobbled quay, Trisha keeping pace with her while Rob ranged ahead of them. After a delicious and filling lunch at a restaurant next to the quay, a leisurely walk back to the hotel suited her perfectly.

Her gaze wandered from the river to inspect the ma.s.sive stone blocks that rose from the water level to form a solid retaining wall for the river's banks. A line of trees and shrubbery softened the imposing dimensions of the wall and provided a parklike atmosphere along the water's edge. Here and there ivy crawled across the stone to cloak the huge blocks in green. Great iron rings adorned the wall, remnants of another age when the Seine had been a river of commerce.

"What time is it?" Rob stopped and waited for them to catch up with him, his body taut with impatience.

"Almost two." Luz glanced at her wrist.w.a.tch.

"Don't you think we should be heading back to the hotel?" he questioned as they approached a set of steps leading to the street level, some thirty feet above.

"We have plenty of time," Luz a.s.sured him, climbing the steps at a leisurely pace. "Raul won't be there until three, so there's no need to hurry. The hotel isn't more than fifteen or twenty minutes from here."

"Did you have a chance to study the information he left? I only had time to glance at it before you two dragged me off to have lunch," he complained.

"Yes, I read it over." On the street level, the stone-walled bank was lined with more trees, leaning toward the river below while spreading their leafy shade over the row of bookstalls.

"What did you think of it?" Rob wanted to know.

"I thought it was all very interesting." She preferred to put this discussion off until later, although she knew she couldn't postpone it for long. But at least when the time came, she had her priorities all set, and personal reservations were not going to dictate her decision.

Trisha lingered at one of the stalls to look over the books and magazines. "Look at this," she said, and Luz paused to glance at the comic book she was holding, a French version of Bugs Bunny. After returning it and a.s.suring the seller she didn't wish to purchase it, Trisha moved on to the next stall, browsing over the t.i.tles as she went.

"We aren't going to stop at every one of these, are we?" Rob protested.

"Why not?" she gently chided him for being so impatient. "They're all so quaint and picturesque."

"You've had a whole week in Paris. Why couldn't you have looked through this junk before? Why today? I don't see why we came out at all," he grumbled. "We could have had lunch at the hotel. I didn't think that restaurant was all that great. The menu was in French. I couldn't even read it."

"The restaurant was French. We are in Paris," Luz reminded him.

"My brother, the world traveler," Trisha mocked.

"I don't care." There was a mutinous set to his expression as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "And I still don't see why we had to come out.".

"Rob, you arrived at the hotel at nine in the morning. Our meeting with Raul isn't until three this afternoon. Surely you didn't expect us to spend five hours sitting around the hotel," Luz reasoned.

"Your mistake was in not suggesting that we go by the polo field in the Bois de Boulogne. Rob would have been in favor of that," Trisha said.

"If we'd stayed at the hotel, I could have studied the information he gave you. Maybe that doesn't mean anything to you, but it's important to me. I don't care what you do, but I'm going back to the hotel." He walked off without waiting to hear their response.

"He's such a jerk when he gets in these moods." Trisha stared at her brother's retreating figure, irritated by his juvenile behavior.

"It is important to him," Luz offered in his defense. "Rob has a lot he wants to prove."

"Don't we all," Trisha murmured.

Surprised by the comment, Luz eyed her curiously. She had never considered the possibility that there was something Trisha felt she had to prove.

Promptly at three o'clock, the doorbell to the suite rang. "I'll get it." Trisha sprang quickly to her feet and crossed to the door that opened to the hotel corridor.

Luz remained seated in the painted and gilded chair, her legs crossed, front-b.u.t.toning chemise opening to show a slice of knee and thigh. In an attempt at a pose of controlled calm, she rested one hand on the back of the other.

Opening the door wide to admit him, Trisha greeted Raul with a warm "h.e.l.lo."

Luz's eyes rushed to him when he walked into the suite. Tall and lean, he moved with a rider's easy grace. His fine, yet thick hair lay smoothly against his well-shaped head, its dark color accenting the blackness of brow and lashes and the piercing blue of his eyes. The broad and angular features of his deeply tanned face wore an impa.s.sive expression as he responded to Trisha's greeting.

An instant later, Luz observed the glance he directed toward her and wished she had taken the time to put her hair up in a French twist instead of simply tying it back with a black scarf. The more sophisticated style would have provided an added poise, which, judging from the erratic beat of her pulse, she needed. Then Rob came between them.

"It's good to see you again, Raul." He extended a hand toward him, then pulled it back. "I forgot about your wrist. Trisha told me you had injured it. How is it?"

In a testing motion, Raul flexed the fingers of his right hand. The white tape bound around his wrist for support was clearly visible below the cuff of his jacket. "It's improving."

After shutting the door, Trisha moved to stand at his side. "What happened to you last night? We waited and waited at the restaurant, but you never came back."

The female interest, so apparent in the way Trisha looked at him, reminded Luz of her earlier resolve. She was not going to compete with her daughter for any man. Their relations.h.i.+p was too precious to her to risk damaging it because of some purely physical attraction. No man was going to come between them. Luz intended to do all she could to discourage Trisha's attachment to Raul, but not because she was jealous and wanted him for herself. Regardless, she still believed the difference in age and experience was too great. If she could keep Trisha from being hurt, she was going to try.

Lowering her gaze, she listened to the faintly accented timbre of Raul's voice as he responded to Trisha's question. "After seeing your mother safely back here, I saw no point in returning to the restaurant, so I went to my hotel. I regret if I caused you undue concern."

"Well, you did," she informed him pertly.

"Then you have my apologies," he said and turned to face Luz once more.

"Come sit down," she invited politely, motioning to the Louis XV couch that matched her chair. "I don't believe I properly thanked you for seeing me to the hotel last evening."

"It is not necessary." He crossed to the gracefully curved sofa, supported by the period's distinctive cabriole legs, and sat down. Trisha joined him, sitting at the opposite end of the sofa.

Luz took him at his word, glad to drop the whole thing. "May I offer you some coffee?" She glanced at the gray-haired woman lingering in the background. "Emma, would you pour?"

"Of course," she replied and walked over to the inlaid bureau where a tray with cups and silver coffeepot waited in readiness. "Do you take cream or sugar, Mr. Buchanan?"

"Neither, thank you."

"I don't care for any coffee, Emma," Rob said as he pulled a chair closer to the sofa and sat down, leaning forward in an att.i.tude of intense interest.

Emma placed two cups of coffee in their saucers on the round marble-topped table in front of the sofa for Raul and Trisha, then went back for the third. "What more would you like me to tell you about my school?" Raul reached for his cup.

"I believe Rob had some questions after looking at your brochure." Luz took the cup and saucer from Emma. "Thank you."

"What was it you wished to know?" Raul directed the question to Rob.

While they talked, Luz sipped at her coffee, but it burned her tongue. She set it down to cool and stared absently at her shoe to avoid looking at Raul while he talked. She listened to the two of them, paying little attention to the actual content of their discussion. Polo was a subject Rob could go on about for hours. She could hear the eager quality of his voice, his earnest absorption with the topic, and that hunger to know more. When she lifted her gaze, it was to study him.

His sandy hair, a couple of shades darker than her own, grew long in the back, curling over the collar of his jacket. Although he shaved daily, his cheeks still had a boyish smoothness. His features were so serious-even in animation they had an intensity of purpose behind them, like his eyes, dark coals burning with an inner fire she didn't understand. She knew that look on his face, that wanting of something so desperately that he hurt inside. She recognized it, but couldn't comprehend it.

There was a lull in the conversation. Luz started to take a sip of her coffee and discovered that sometime in the interim she'd drunk it all. Emma had withdrawn to her own room to let them talk in private. She stood up, then paused to ask, "Would anyone care for more coffee?"

"No, thank you," Raul said, and Trisha shook her head negatively.

"What do you think, Luz?" Rob asked as she crossed to the long table.

"About what?" She hadn't been listening, so she couldn't be sure of his reference.

"The school, of course. It sounds ideal to me-just the kind of learning experience I need." He pushed out of his chair and walked over to where she was standing as if seeking some way to impress upon her the certainty of his feelings.

The demanding appeal of his gaze left her with little doubt, but Luz asked anyway, "Are you sure this school is the one you want to attend?"

"Yes. We're going to Argentina to buy horses anyway, so why not make one trip count for both? Why should I go somewhere else? This is one of the best," he argued.

"Don't you think it might be wiser to wait until we get to Argentina and you have a chance to see the school, before you make the decision?" she reasoned as she refilled her cup.

"Why? After I get there, if it turns out that I'm not learning all that I could, I can always leave. It isn't as though I have to stick it out if it turns out to be something other than what we believe. Which I don't think it will."

"I see." She walked back to her chair and sat down, poised slightly on the edge of it and holding the cup on her lap. "It appears my son has made up his mind. As he said, your program has been recommended to us as one of the best. That's what I want for him." She faced Raul squarely, meeting his eyes. This had nothing to do with anything other than polo. She hoped she was making that clear to him.

"I do not believe you will be disappointed in your choice," he stated.

"I will be accompanying him," she continued. There were too many unknowns for Luz to allow Rob to go there alone. "I'm not certain how long I'll be staying. That's a decision I'll make after we get there."

"I'm coming, too," Trisha a.s.serted.

"You are welcome, of course," Raul said. "But I must tell you that our accommodations may seem spartan to you. While we do have a swimming pool and tennis court on the grounds, our facilities are mainly designed around the school. And the household staff takes care of the basic necessities. The estancia is not a resort."

"I understand. I believe I'm capable of roughing it for a while," Luz a.s.sured him, a tiny sting in her voice. "And I don't expect to be entertained while I'm there."

"What's the weather like in August where you live, Raul?" Trisha wanted to know.

"The climate is similar to northern Florida's. The days are mild, but the nights can be cool." It was an offhand answer, most of his attention centering on Luz.

"According to your brochure, you are located southwest of Buenos Aires," she said.

"Yes. It's approximately a three-hour drive by car. I would recommend that when you make your travel plans, you arrange to spend your first night at a hotel in Buenos Aires. You will be tired after the long flight from the States."