Golden Lies - Barbara Freethy [112]
She picked up one of the books and saw a photo of a dragon. She sighed. "Dragons and more dragons. Is this the same one?"
"No."
"I thought you didn't remember the dragon statue."
"I asked Martin to send over a copy of the videotape from the antique show so that I could see the statue that sent me to Chinatown."
She wasn't quite sure she believed him—he'd lied about so many other things—but his words had a ring of truth to them. "Maybe you just went to Chinatown to see that woman. It wouldn't have been the first time. We both know that."
David took off the reading glasses that had slipped to the bridge of his nose and put them on the bed. "Must we deal with this now?"
"Paige knows about your illegitimate child. That damn security expert she made friends with has dug into our personal life."
"But you already knew about Alyssa, didn't you?" he said, through shrewd, tired eyes.
"I know everything, David." She could have sat down on the chaise lounge next to the bed, but she preferred to stand, to be taller, bigger, more in control than he was.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"It wasn't important as long as she stayed away."
"What do you want to do now?"
"Pay her off, of course."
"Of course," he echoed wearily. "It doesn't matter that she's my daughter."
"You haven't acted like her father, have you? I didn't think so," she added when she saw him flinch. She knew this man too well, maybe better than he knew himself. She knew what made him strong and what made him weak. She knew his fears and the limits to his courage, and once upon a time he'd known something about her. But he'd forgotten or she'd changed—maybe it was a little of both.
"Alyssa is a young woman. She can't hurt us," David said.
"I won't be made a target of gossip."
"Don't worry, Vicky, you can play the martyred wife and become even more popular."
She ignored his cutting comment. "The least you could have done was use birth control. Where was your mind anyway? Forget it, I don't want to know. What I do want to know is if there are any other children about to come out of the woodwork."
"No," he said shortly.
"Thank God for that." She walked over to the window, gazing down at their beautifully manicured backyard lawn, next to the swimming pool and the gazebo. The sight of her surroundings immediately calmed her.
"You're so cold, Victoria. So sure of yourself, so self-righteous. I almost died this week, but all you can think about is your image, your reputation."
"You almost died this week because you went to see her," she said fiercely, turning to face him. "How do you think I felt knowing you were almost killed two blocks from her apartment? What do you think the press has been asking me all week? 'Where was your husband going? What was he doing in Chinatown?' I'm lucky I managed to cover up your connection with that woman. Thankfully our good friend the police chief made sure that piece of information was put to rest by suggesting that the police visit to Jasmine's apartment had no connection to your attack."
"You mean your good friend, don't you? I'm not the only one with friendships in unlikely places, but while you can take the girl out of the slum, you can never quite take the slum out of the girl."
"How dare you!"
"How dare you?" he echoed. "You haven't said a kind, warm word to me since we buried Elizabeth, since you decided to blame me for her dying. It was my fault she got cancer. It was my fault the doctors couldn't save her. It was all my fault."
"Yes, it was," she hissed. "It was your fault. It was your fault I had to hear the diagnosis by myself because you were out of town. It was your fault that Elizabeth didn't go to see that specialist in Europe because you let her pleas that she just wanted to stay home sway your judgment. Maybe he could have saved her."
"And maybe he would have caused her more pain. She was dying, Victoria. You knew it, and I knew it, and neither one of us could stop it, not even you, the superwoman, and certainly not me, because I've never been good enough to do anything