“Not a great deal, Mrs. Blackwell.”
“Are you a corporation?” Kate asked.
“No.”
She snorted. “Bloody hell. You don’t know anything. You need a good tax man. I’ll set up an appointment for you with mine. The first thing he’ll do is incorporate you and—”
“Thank you, Mrs. Blackwell. I’m getting along just fine.”
“My husband was a stubborn man, too,” Kate said. She turned to Alexandra. “Invite him to dinner. Maybe I can talk some sense into him.”
Outside, Peter said, “Your grandmother hates me.”
Alexandra laughed. “She likes you. You should hear how Gran behaves with people she hates.”
“I wonder how she would feel if I told her that I want to marry you, Alex…?”
And she looked up at him and beamed. “We’d both feel wonderful, Peter!”
Kate had watched the progress of Alexandra’s romance with Peter Templeton with a great deal of interest. She liked the young doctor, and she decided he would be a good husband for Alexandra. But she was a trader at heart. Now she sat in front of the fireplace facing the two of them.
“I must tell you,” Kate lied, “that this comes as a complete surprise. I always expected Alexandra to marry an executive who would take over Kruger-Brent.”
“This isn’t a business proposition, Mrs. Blackwell. Alexandra and I want to get married.”
“On the other hand,” Kate continued, as if there had been no interruption, “you’re a psychiatrist. You understand the way people’s minds and emotions work. You would probably be a great negotiator. I would like you to become involved with the company. You can—”
“No,” Peter said firmly. “I’m a doctor. I’m not interested in going into a business.”
“This isn’t ‘going into a business,’ “ Kate snapped. “We’re not talking about some corner grocery store. You’ll be part of the family, and I need someone to run—”
“I’m sorry.” There was a finality in Peter’s tone. “I’ll have nothing to do with Kruger-Brent. You’ll have to find someone else for that…”
Kate turned to Alexandra. “What do you have to say to that?”
“I want whatever makes Peter happy, Gran.”
“Damned ingratitude,” Kate glowered. “Selfish, the both of you.” She sighed. “Ah, well. Who knows? You might change your mind one day.” And she added innocently, “Are you planning to have children?”
Peter laughed. “That’s a private matter. I have a feeling you’re a great manipulator, Mrs. Blackwell, but Alex and I are going to live our own lives, and our children—if we have children—will live their lives.”
Kate smiled sweetly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Peter. I’ve made it a lifelong rule never to interfere in other people’s lives.”
Two months later when Alexandra and Peter returned from their honeymoon, Alexandra was pregnant. When Kate heard the news, she thought, Good. It will be a boy.
Eve lay in bed watching Rory walk out of the bathroom naked. He had a beautiful body, lean and trim. Eve adored the way he made love to her. She could not get enough of him. She suspected he might have other bedmates, but she was afraid to ask, afraid to say anything that might upset him. Now, as he reached the bed, he ran his finger along her skin, just below the eyes, and said, “Hey, baby, you’re gettin’ a few wrinkles. They’re cute.”
Each word was a stab, a reminder of the age difference between them and the fact that she was twenty-five years old. They made love again, but for the first time Eve’s mind was elsewhere.
It was almost nine o’clock when Eve arrived home. Keith was basting a roast in the oven.
He kissed her on the cheek. “Hello, dear. I’ve made some of your favorite dishes. We’re having—”
“Keith, I want you to remove these wrinkles.”
He blinked. “What wrinkles?”
She pointed to the area around her eyes. “These.”
“Those are laugh lines, darling. I love them.”
“I don’t! I hate them!” she yelled.
“Believe me, Eve, they’re not—”
“For Christ’s sake, just get rid of them. That is what you do for a living, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but—All right,” he said placatingly, “if it will make you happy, dear.”