“It’s the association that came into my mind when you said it.”
“My mother is Edmonda. I have an Aunt Constance.”
“Do you want this child to be bullied?” Sam asked pointedly.
“They’re good names.”
“They’re toff names.”
“Well, as much as you hate it, this child is half toff. Charlotta?”
“Sienna?” Sam said hopefully.
“It is a pretty name, but my mother would never forgive me and I have to continue to deal with her. How about Madelaine?”
“It’s so old-fashioned. What about Emily?”
He thought about it for a moment. “I do have a great great Aunt Esme.”
Sam thought about it for a while. It actually wasn’t terrible. “I could live with that,” she finally said. “If it will allow you to front up to your mother, that is.”
“Mock if you will, but she doesn’t take well to not getting her own way, and having robbed her of her one and only grandchild, I would only make it worse by giving the child a name she won’t be comfortable revealing to her acquaintances.”
Sam felt guilt wash over her again—not that she remotely liked the woman, with her arrogance, snobbishness and downright prejudice. Sam was still robbing her of her grandchild. “I can live with Esme.”
“I suppose we have a name then.”
It grew uncomfortable in the room for a moment, like there was all this unacknowledged tension that they were both trying to ignore. “You’re coming home today,” he said after a while. “I spoke to Dr Halmonde in the hallway and you can go whenever you feel like it.”
“Did you bring the capsule? Did you bring the limousine again?”
“No,” he said with a smile. “I brought your car.”
“You were driving a small Japanese car? That would have hurt.”
“Don’t be silly,” he said, but Sam could tell from his slight sheepish look that it had been the exact thought going through his head at the time. She broke out into a large smile. “You’re such a snob.”
“I’m not a snob. I just have standards.”
Standards she didn’t fit into, Sam thought, feeling the lightness of the banter fading away, but she pushed the thoughts away. “I’m ready,” she said. “I suppose I should tell Damon and Jane we’re leaving in case they come back.”
Carefully dressing, Sam ignored the pain as she moved. Sebastian returned with the baby capsule and carefully placed the sleeping baby he’d been cradling in his arms. It was such a tender sight, Sam thought—one that pulled sharply at her guilt. She was doing him a disservice by taking this baby away from him. As much as she told herself that she wasn’t robbing him; he would still be the baby’s father and they would see each other, but he wouldn’t be there, being a father every day—a dad. There was an incredible sadness there underneath it all.
After placing Esme in the capsule, Sebastian gently moved her tiny arms around to belt her in. Esme, Sam thought. She actually liked that it was a name he’d chosen. She wanted him to have influence over this child. Esme would likely be incredibly proud of her father one day.
Lifting the capsule, Sebastian place his other arm around Sam as they walked out the door, and Sam had to hold herself back from snuggling into his solid form and the comfort that he gave her. An instinct to fight for it flashed through her mind, but in the end knew that she would end up fighting him. As much as she wanted him, she knew she would just end up fighting him in the end.
Chapter 31
Sam’s heart ached when she went to bed that night in her own room. Part of her desperately wanted to sleep in Sebastian’s bed like she had been. But she had to be firm. This was the plan and she would only keep her sanity if she didn’t mess with it. It was for the best, she repeated to herself. Her mind ached along with her whole body. Scrunching her duvet under her fingers, she forced herself to stop thinking of what she really wanted to do, which, incidentally, she wasn’t allowed to do for another six weeks as her body needed time to heal. It was a blessing really, because this would be much more difficult if the potential was there, only waiting for one of them to make a move. She had to be away from here before six weeks were up, or she would succumb completely, and she wasn’t sure if Sebastian could reject her this time. He was stuck in this mess too.
Her broken sleep left her feeling dazed in the morning. Esme fed throughout the night and it was lovely, just the two of them when the world was quiet and dark. Right now, Esme slept on Sam’s bed with Sam lying next to her just watching her. Sam could stare at her for hours, just lost in the amazement that was the little creature sleeping on her bed; the round little face and the tiny, heart-shaped mouth.
Sebastian was up; Sam could hear him moving around. The smell of breakfast drew her out to the lounge.
“I didn’t think you could cook,” she said as she watched him by the stove. He was dressed in his pyjamas, exactly as she liked him to be.
“I can scramble an egg. There isn’t really much that can go wrong. Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
“Then sit.”
Sam listened back toward her room for a noise, but it was still quiet. As she sat down, Sebastian put a plate down in front of her, with a fork. “Are you going to work today?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I might check in. I’ve left them on their own for quite a bit lately.”
“We’re fine. You can go if you want.”
He looked uncertain.
“We’re not going anywhere.”
“Maybe I’ll go for a little while, check that things haven’t fallen apart.”
After wolfing down his scrambled eggs and placing his plate on the sink, he walked back to his room to dress. Sam stayed, finishing hers more slowly. She was actually going to miss him. They’d been together constantly for the last few weeks and now things were about to return to normal—well, halfway to normal.
Returning, he was dressed in a dark suit, highlighting the vast difference between them. He looked gorgeous, but distant—unattainable. Sam couldn’t connect with him in the same way when he was formal and officey. Awkwardly, he stepped toward her and kissed her on the cheek. She fought the urge to turn her head and seek out his lips, kiss him properly. She wanted to, but also knew that she couldn’t take it further. Well, there were always things they could do, the subversive part of her brain said—the one that didn’t see the need to be mature and forward-thinking in this situation. No, she told herself, the mature thing to do was to let that part of their relationship slip away and return to the state they were in before.
She felt sadness as she watched him leave, hearing the engine of his car fire up and pull out of the driveway. He needed to return to his life, she conceded—including crazy work schedules, dark, expensive suits and expensive toys. She wasn’t ready to see him return to dating the women he normally did—that was a step too far and would absolutely break her heart. She really needed to be away from here within the next six weeks, or she was going to suffer.
*
It felt awkward being back in the office. Mrs Muir’s excitement was evident and he showed her some photos he’d taken, but he wasn’t in the mood to discuss the situation or answer any queries of that nature. The truth was that he didn’t quite know where his own mind was. He knew Sam would leave, but he couldn’t quite comprehend her not being there—them not being there. He felt like the disenfranchised male. Sam didn’t need him anymore. His bed had actually felt empty and cold the previous night.
As much as he needed to concentrate on the things that were discussed during the staff meeting he’d called, his mind kept wandering back home—wondering what Sam was doing. He missed her, even though he suspected that Sam wanted to put distance between them. She defied him at every turn. He smiled at the thought. He’d never quite experienced it before, but Sam got what she wanted, insisted on it. That was usually his position, but this slight girl of no real means or consequence defied everyone and got what sh
e wanted. He was playing second fiddle to Sam. Shanna had never achieved that, until she’d packed up and left. Even this baby, at the time, had been something he’d indulged Shanna with. But Sam got her way, even drawing him in to help her get it—and now she was leaving.
He wanted her desperately, but he couldn’t go near her. He wasn’t allowed to touch her, but saying that, he suspected that if it weren’t for the fact that Sam’s body was recovering; if things were normal, she couldn’t say no. He affected her, compelled her. He could easily seduce her if he wanted to, but he wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. It was a selfish desire.
The project was on schedule as he’d known it would be. He wasn’t stupid enough to hire people who couldn’t do their jobs. Everything was fine. The schedule was still being met, but there were some tasks that needed his attention. He’d have to go to Tokyo the next week to negotiate with a subcontractor.
Leaving the office in the late afternoon, his work concerns immediately drained away—maybe because he had larger concerns to deal with at home. He could hear talking when he arrived home and it took him a moment to realise that Sam’s relatives were there. Sebastian felt his heckles rise a bit. He wasn’t normally possessive and one to discourage guests, but right now they represented something—something he didn’t want.
Damon greeted him as he walked into the lounge. “Sebastian,” he said and Sebastian greeted him in the same way. It wasn’t friendly, just an acknowledgement.
Sam smiled at him, sitting on the couch with the baby lying on her lap.
“Sebastian,” Jane said with a smile. Sebastian didn’t mind Jane; she was kind and genuine. “We’ve just arrived. We were here for a while this morning, then left. She is just gorgeous. You must be so proud.”
“Would you like a drink?” Sebastian asked, not forgetting his manners, which were ingrained from early childhood. But equally, Sebastian wasn’t sure he could get through the evening without a drink. He didn’t want to think of how proud he was either.
“A drink would be lovely,” Jane said. “Anything.”
Considering for a moment what to do, he made a pitcher with Gin and tonic—a drink unlikely to offend anyone. He may not be much of a cook, but he was well-versed at mixing cocktails—a lost art these days.
“A nice house you have here,” Damon said when he returned.
“I had it built a few years ago.”
“I understand you’re in property development.” They talked shop for a while and Sebastian realised he had more in common with Damon than he’d thought—different fields, but same type of work.
Looking over at the women, Jane was holding Esme in her arms cooing at her, looking completely enthralled. Looking up at Damon, she smiled like she’d discovered a secret.
“Damn it. I knew coming here was a bad idea,” Damon said quietly and Sebastian smiled. While he was gaining more understanding and respect for Damon, he couldn’t stop the urge for competing with the man, and things not going the way Damon wanted were only supporting that irrational objective.
They sat down to dinner at the table, still being a little too chilly to sit outside, which was a shame, because Sebastian wanted to show off his abode at its most flattering. Sam and Jane had cooked a simple stew to go with some crusty bread that Jane had bought at a bakery. “I love the bread here,” she stated as she sat down. Sebastian poured wine for the guests and himself.
The meal was tender and delicious, and it was a lovely evening, but Sebastian just couldn’t relax—as if there was something wrong with the picture, and there was. While it wasn’t wrong as such, something about the evening felt false, because they were not a couple entertaining guests, even if that was what it looked like—what it felt like. He wanted to sink into the comfort of the evening, but he couldn’t. The conversation flowed around the table and he couldn’t quite feel at home in it—and this was his home.
“Are you alright?” Sam asked him when Damon and Jane were discussing something between them.
“Of course,” he said, but he couldn’t get the tightness out of his smile.
“Do you want them to leave?” Concern was written all over Sam’s face. “I just assumed—,”
“No, of course not,” he cut her off, not wanting her to feel that she couldn’t invite people over. It wasn’t the guests that were putting him in a mood. “It’s a lovely evening. I guess everything is just catching up with me. Just feeling a bit distracted. How was your day?”
“Feeding, sleeping, changing. How was yours?”
“Fine.” He wanted to take her hand, feel her fingers under his, but he couldn’t. Actually, he felt better now, but he still wanted the guests to leave—to just be the two of them.
Esme woke and Sam went to her, leaving Sebastian with the guests. He tried to participate in the conversation, but he was growing really tired. How sad, he thought wryly, becoming a father and immediately wanting to go to sleep at eight-thirty in the evening.
He wanted Sam in his bed, not that he could touch her like he wanted, but he still wanted her there. Chewing a wedge of cheese, he recognised that there was no sane way of suggesting that, particularly as things stood between them.
“We’re returning to Dubai in the morning,” Jane said. “A flying visit, I’m afraid. Damon has a meeting he needs to attend.”
Sebastian didn’t feel a bit sorry, even though he said he was. Essentially, he liked both of them, but there was something uncomfortable about their presence as they constantly reminded him that the true situation was different and the reality of it was short at hand.
Chapter 32
Sam walked out of her room to make herself a cup of tea. Esme was asleep in her cot and Sam felt like she had a moment to herself to recoup from a trying day, which she wasn’t entirely sure how she’d gotten through. She could hear the TV softly as she walked out to the lounge where Sebastian was watching the news with the sound down low, finishing the bottle of red from dinner. Sam felt a stab of envy, wishing she could have a glass, but it was out of the question for a while.
Boiling the jug, she stood waiting, wondering if a cup of cocoa would be better, conscious that Sebastian was behind her. She felt his presence like a physical force. Hearing him move, she turned to find him standing on the other side of the kitchen isle, leaning over with his hands apart. He looked angry and annoyed.
“You alright?” she asked.
He didn’t answer for a moment, instead just stood there considering her. She felt exposed when he considered her like that—as if he saw everything. “I don’t want you to leave,” he said after a while.
Sighing, Sam shifted as she stood, feeling both uncomfortable and confronted. She had a feeling this conversation had been coming. “You know I have to.”
“Why?” he said, moving closer. “You could just stay here, as we are now.”
“I don’t live here. I don’t belong here. And how would you see that working?”
“Just like it is now.”
“Do you seriously think there is any way we could do that and not make each other miserable? I don’t fit into your life. I’m not the kind of girl you should be with.”
“I think that’s far from true. You’re exactly the kind of girl I should be with. It took finding you to discover that.”
“Can you seriously say I fit in with your acquaintances? I am absolutely nothing like the girls you’re with, particularly Shanna. We have nothing in common, and can you seriously see me amongst the glamour set down there,” she said, indicating to the Monte Carlo township below them outside the window.
“Since meeting you, I’ve found that there are other things I want.”
Sam stared at him. “Look. We’ve gone through an intense period of late and Esme is here, but let’s not make hasty decisions when we’re exhausted and filled with hormones. It’s not the time to make rational decisions, particularly about important stuff that could lead to a complete mess later. I am not what you want and getting into a relationship just b
ecause we have a baby together will never work. If we’re not compatible, it will only lead to resentment and heartache, and I would like to avoid that. I like having you as a friend; I don’t want to jeopardise that.”
“Letting this slip just because of fear isn’t doing either of us justice.”
“I’m not the kind of girl you want.”
“Yes, you are. I like that you are here when I come home in the evenings. I like the idea of coming home to you. I don’t want to be with someone who needs to be out every night.”
“Having a person here when you come home doesn’t justify a relationship. Get a dog. Besides, you’re someone who is out every night,” she urged.
“Not lately.”
“I’m like a normal person. My life is unexciting compared to yours. Your life is up here,” she said, indicating the distance between them with her hand. “I go to McDonalds, you eat at Michelin Star restaurants. You have paparazzi stalking you at your door; I have Jehovah’s Witnesses. I am never going to be like Shanna Maya. No one is ever going to look at us and see an obvious couple.”
“I don’t care about that.”
“Come on, Sebastian. Nothing about an everyday pleb life appeals to you. I am that, to the core—born and bred.”
He considered her for a moment and Sam wondered if she’d convinced him. There was part of her that didn’t want to—wanted to believe that it was possible to be together; just decide that they were a couple and all the other crap would go away. Even his mother thought she was a servant.
“I don’t want someone like Shanna, a socialite or glitterati,” he said.
“That’s exactly what you go for. Meeting me was incidental and I appreciate the loyalty, but you can’t go against your grain.”
“Turns out I have deeper layers that I thought I did.”
Sam tilted her head, disbelieving him.
“I want a family—my family,” he said.
“Sebastian,” Sam pleaded, feeling her guilt overwhelm her.
A Material Gift (D'Arth Series Book 2) Page 19
