Page 23 of Some Like It Secret
He continued to massage her scalp and, even as she leaned into the touch, he traced the shell of her ear with hislips. The lightest of kisses, it sent heat radiating along every nerve. “Oh, yes. I’d seen this vibrant, passionate woman argue quite brilliantly earlier in the day and I wanted to meet her. They’d seated you too far away for my liking. Then you were more interested in the septuagenarian than me. I had to do something.”
Uncertain whether she was more shocked he’d been trying to impress her or the fact he’d bribed his way onto her table, Meredith fumbled for words. She settled for a helpless, “But why?”Why go to all that trouble?For her? Because she’d gotten angry with someone?
Sebastian caught her earlobe and tugged on it. A pulse in her belly echoed his touch. She drowned in sensation whenever they were together. He really was the only man she’d ever met who could get her mind to shut down. In fact, after all their years together, she’d learned his nearness greatly impeded her ability to puzzle through a problem.
It took her a moment to realize he’d stopped and considered her with a frown. Her system was so haywire, she floundered for what put the dark look on his face.
“You really don’t know, do you?”
The disbelief in his voice brought her back to earth. “No,” she admitted, even though her face flamed. “I’m nobody.”
His mouth compressed into a thin line and his expression hardened. Even his black eyes seemed to glaze over with a fierce kind of ice. “Don’t ever talk about yourself in those terms again. You aremorethan somebody. You’re the most beautiful, vibrant, alive woman I’ve ever met. You are not coy about pleasure or dislike and you take such joy out of the simplest things. You are also brilliant and your mind fascinates me like no other.” He tapped the journal still in her hands. “I read these because I want to comprehend all the facets. I want to be a part of it even in some small way. Do not ever call yourselfnothing. You are somebody, Meredith Blake. You’re a professor, a teacher, a researcher, a gifted doctor of mathematics, a daughter, a friend—and you’remine.”
If his statement hadn’t already robbed her of speech, he claimed her mouth in a kiss that branded her all the way to her soul. The journal slipped out of her hands and she gripped his shoulders. He sought entry to her mouth with his tongue and she welcomed him. Emotions detonated inside of her and his fierce declaration left her defenseless.
He cupped her breast and her nipples tightened even as her belly went low and taut. Digging her fingers into his shirt, she’d barely pulled two buttons open when a knock sounded at the door.
Sebastian growled—actually growled—and lifted his head. “Go away.” Order delivered, he captured her open mouth in another wet kiss and the interruption slid away as she ran her palms across the hot skin of his chest.
The knock repeated, but Sebastian ignored it. When it came a third time, he dragged his head back and turned a look so primal and fierce on the door, she prayed she’d never be on the receiving end of it. “What?” he demanded. When she would have scrambled off his lap, he tightened his grip on her, refusing to allow her escape.
“Please forgive the intrusion, sir, but your brother needs to speak with you immediately.” Vidal’s announcement lanced the bubble of passion and Sebastian swore, colorfully she imagined, in Norwegian. At least she thought it was Norwegian.
Vidal, wisely, didn’t respond to Sebastian’s epithets. Meredith bit her lip, and tried to get her ragged breathing under control. Pressing a kiss as gentle as his expression was not to her lips, Sebastian murmured, “Forgive me, I have to take his call, but I will make it quick.”
She started to ease off his lap, but he once again tightened his grip and frowned at her before plucking the phone up from the desk. He greeted his brother in the same language he’d sworn in. The cool, smoothness of his voice belied his temper so perfectly, if she hadn’t witnessed the transformation she’d never have known he was upset in the first place. Though she couldn’t make out the words, she heard the deep timbre of his brother’s voice muted as it was by the phone. It held a similar cadence and accent to Sebastian’s.
“When?” Urgency punctuated the word and Sebastian’s mouth tightened. He glanced at her, and she could almost read the regret in his expression as he gave her a gentle tap. Understanding the request, she slid off his lap and stood with his assistance. He ran a hand up her arm and caressed her cheek before circling the desk. “I’m going to my computer right now. How certain is Peterson?”
Standing behind his desk, one hand palm down as he stared at his computer, he looked commanding. But it was the tousled dark hair and the broad expanse of his chest revealed by the several opened buttons on his shirt, which transformed his command into something more primal and masculine.
“No,” Sebastian said. “It’s loading now.”
Meredith glanced away from him, vividly aware of every breath he took. Scooping up the journal from the floor, she set it on the desk and stroked her finger across the cover to trace his name on the subscription label.Sebastian Dagmar.He subscribed just so he could read her papers. She’d never made a big deal out of being published. In fact, she’d only mentioned it in passing a handful of times if she recalled correctly—one time specifically because he’d taken her skiing and she’d needed to finish reading the final copy before it went to print.
It seemed to lend an even greater import to his actions. Awareness of his regard kept her peeking at him from behind thefall of her bangs. He wasn’t speaking, but she could still hear the murmur of his brother’s words. Staring at him only fanned the flames of need he’d lit with his kisses, so she forced herself to look away.
“Impossible.” Sebastian’s impatience ratcheted up with every syllable. He paused. “I said it was impossible…” and he switched languages between one word and the next. Whatever their topic, it was private. She suddenly felt very self-conscious standing in the middle of his office with her blouse open to her navel.
Glancing away, she began to button it up as casually as possible. One entire wall of his office was comprised of bookshelves. Family pictures scattered amongst the books, along with a couple of model airplanes and a replica of Rodin’sThe Thinker.
The statue reminded her of their last trip to Paris and their midnight visit to the Musée Rodin. She mentioned she’d always wanted to see it and he’d whisked her away in a private car at one in the morning. They’d toured the whole exhibit with only Vidal for company—not even a docent insisted on going with them.
They’d spent a magical evening together. When she’d complained about her shoes and Sebastian insisted she take them off. She’d spent nearly a half hour just staring at the seminal piece, moved beyond words. Daring to run her finger over the man’s tiny fist, she smiled at the memory and then investigated the photographs.
His brothers were prominent in them, as was a silver-haired woman she recognized as his mother. She’d seen the dowager princess once. Or rather, she’d seen her briefly. They’d attended an opera in New York, a very hurried affair—a car picked her up and zipped her to the city. She’d met him at a hotel and he’d surprised her with tickets.
It was one of his favorites, he’d told her, and they’d entered the theater through a private entrance and taken equally privatestairs to a box. The opera proved a wonderful experience. During the intermission, she’d excused herself to go to the restroom. When she’d returned, Sebastian had been in a discussion with the woman, and bid her farewell without introducing her to Meredith.
Meredith hadn’t realized who the woman was, not until later. It was the first time the reality of her place in Sebastian’s life settled in—of course one didn’t introduce the mistress to the mother.
He’d gone very quiet behind her. She glanced over to find his tense expression focused on the computer screen. She really should leave him to the discussion with his brother and stop snooping through his things before she tossed the fresh chance they were taking to her own insecurities.
She had the door half-opened when he spoke again. “Meredith?”
Glancing back, she gave him a quick smile. “It’s all right, talk to your brother. I’m going to take a walk and cool off.” She meant it to be playful, but it came out tighter and a little more fraught than lighthearted. Riding the emotional seesaw left her unbalanced.
“You don’t have to?—”