Page 17 of Some Like It Secret
He led her inside and his accent washed over her as he shared the story. The interior of the house was nearly as spectacular as the exterior and yet, as fine as it all was, it also possessed the curious effect of looking like a real home. Every room seemed designed for comfort and family photos scattered across the various tables.
She recognized what had to be his forefathers—or maybe even his father—in one of the paintings, since he looked exactly like Sebastian. Of course she knew what his brothers looked like and, while Sebastian and Armand favored each other, George looked more like their mother.
The closer she came to the painting, the more of Sebastian’s likeness she saw in the older, distinguished gentleman. Grave eyes gazed out from the handsome face and a touch of silver highlighted the man’s temples. While it was only an oil painting, somehow the artist seemed to have captured something of the man’s personality—or maybe I’m just reading something into it,but this could be Bastian in a few years.Something deep inside her loosened, and her throat went scratchy.
Bastian would look the same, with serious eyes and the hint of weathering to his otherwise beautiful face. The silver crown would be a testament to his age, but would he be lonely? Who would walk through those years with him? Or would he…
“You’re not listening to me anymore,” Sebastian murmured from a step behind her and Meredith blinked back the tears desperately pooling in her eyes.
“You look like him,” she said, and bit her lip at the choked sound she made with the words.
He turned her around and caught her face in his hands, swiping away her tears with his thumbs. “Darling, what? What’s eating you up inside? Something’s upset you deeply, and I can’t fix it if I don’t know what it is.”
The desperate desire to avoid this very conversation drove her from the beginning. Five years of wonderful adventures and magnificent moments, but all of them fleeting. She lived in Boston, while he roamed the world. “Us. We’re never going to work,” she whispered, and hated herself for saying it. “I don’t belong here and you? You have so many important things to do.”
“Whatare you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you and me. You have events, and duties and responsibilities and—” She sniffed. God she hated losing it in front of him. She was a terrible crier. “I have students and projects. I shouldn’t even be here now. The university is going to be disappointed and, well, it was a project which could have garnered them future grant money…” And she rambled, wincing at her scattering focus. She fought for a weak smile. “I’m tired. I’m sorry, I know I’m not making any sense. It’s just, after this last year, what you and I have? It’s not working anymore. You were stabbed, which changed everything…”
Why couldn’t she explain it right?
“I’m sorry my injury inconvenienced you.” His stiff tone carried a note of warning.
Stumbling over her own guilt, she stared at him. “Oh, don’t say it like that. I was terrified for you, and it was weeks before I heard anything. Nothing in the press, no phone calls. Not even a cryptic note with a puzzle.”
“Security was impossible for a time. My brother monitored every incoming and outgoing communication.” The corners of his eyes tightened and his mouth compressed into a thin line. “I will make arrangements to ensure you are never left to wonder again. I told you when I called you—as soon as I was able—why I hadn’t been in touch. Security was very much an issue.”
“That part, I got. Terry practically moved in with me for those few weeks—” Apparently it was the wrong thing to say, because Bastian’s gaze slicked over like ice.
“He didwhat?”
A pulse-pounding headache began behind her eyes. “He told me there were issues, so for the time-being, he wanted to keep a closer tab on me. There was no sense in him staying in his car when I have three bedrooms.” She so did not want to talk about Terry at the moment. “And, yes, you did tell me there were security issues, but thoseissuescertainly didn’t stop you from partying on the yacht during the same timeframe. I saw the special. During at least one of the weeks you were ‘locked’ down, you were entertaining any number of beautiful women.”
“Appearances needed to be kept, and I was barely there. I spent most of the visit below decks recuperating while they occupied themselves. I should not need to defend the choices security makes. It was a very crucial time.”
“Of course you don’t, and why should you explain it to me? You’ve told me you were too locked down to make a call, but obviously having a number of nubile bodies dancing around was a precaution… Yet another reason why we don’t work.” As muchas the loss wounded her, it did manage to dry her tears. She tried to back away, but Sebastian’s arms came around her and dragged her against him.
Putting up her hands, she braced herself and only the sure knowledge of how recently a knife had been driven through his chest kept her from shoving him away. Was he truly healed? The very last time she’d seen him, the scar remained violent, and angry.
He’d waved off her concern then, assuring her his physicians told him everything was fine. Caged against him, she hated her reaction—which included the desperate desire to purr, rub her face to his shirt, and soak up his scent. “Sebastian, please…”
“No, this time you will listen. All of that…nonsenseabout the parties and the women? Those were appearances and have nothing to do with us. You and I are why we work. Yes, it has been a trial of a year, but we’re together and we’re here…”
Gaping, she stared up at him. “It isn’t nonsense, Sebastian. Wedon’twork.”
“You keep saying we don’t, but I don’t believe it and neither do you.” Then his mouth slammed down against hers, claiming and stealing every ounce of her breath. She fisted her hands and then she was lost to the lush, wet heat of his mouth as he slid his tongue along the seam of her lips. The request layered into the demand undid her. She threaded her arms around his neck and tumbled over the precipice.
Fire blasted through her, shattering every reservation, and she wanted more. God, she needed more. She’d missed him so damn much. As if he sensed her need, he gentled the kiss and his searing claim branded her. When he lifted his head and stared down at her, she swallowed, touching tentative fingers to the shadow of stubble on his jaw.
The mask he’d worn since she arrived slipped. Exhaustion and worry shone in his grave eyes. “Let me love you?” he asked and she melted.
Insanity, but then it had always been insanity with them from their first meeting—and the passion. Lord, the passion turned incendiary. She’d never experienced anything like it with anyone but Bastian. Madness to even consider his request, but she wasn’t considering it at all. The moment his mouth closed over hers, she’d already surrendered.
She needed the connection, needed him. Rising on her tiptoes, she kissed him. He dragged her closer and then lifted her. “Yes, Bastian,” she said against his mouth and felt, more than heard, his ragged sigh as he began striding down the hall. She forgot about the other people in the house, the island, the fight—everything.
There was only Bastian.
Chapter 5