He did not do intimate. Ever. Yet here he was, holding this wonderful, amazing woman while a little boy slept above them. How had that happened?
They barely knew each other and yet he felt so connected. Perhaps it was this house? These four walls, now cast in deep shadows, which made the rest of his life suddenly come into sharp focus.
Or was he simply in the right place at the right time to offer her some comfort? Any port in a storm? No. It did not feel that way at all. This was real. And so was her concern.
Seb slowly pressed his cheek to her hair before speaking in a low and soft voice.
‘I’ve only been here for one whole day but I already know that Dan is a very, very lucky boy. You have given him so much more than any amount of money can buy. He’s a remarkable young man. You should be proud of your son…’ and at this point he lifted some strands of her hair behind her ear ‘…and what you have achieved.’
Seb slid slightly to one side and tilted her chin up towards him, only to find her looking up at him, her eyes focused on his in the flickering firelight, as though seeking the confirmation that the words were real and for her.
He raised his right hand and his palm cupped her chin as he gently wiped away the trace of a tear from her face with his thumb. Her skin was soft and her colour was already starting to return, bringing a flush of life to her cheeks.
‘You are a remarkable and wonderful mother, Ella. Don’t let anyone ever tell you any different. Okay?’
He looked into her eyes now, and felt her chest rise a little under the quilt.
Seb tried to ignore the overwhelming urge that swelled from deep within him to caress and protect her—an urge that was threatening to break down his resolve not to become even more connected to Ella.
Except at that moment Ella seemed to take his uncomfortable squirming as a signal that she could move to a better position so that she could argue with him, and made an effort to wriggle out of her quilt. He recalled the dress that she was wearing and decided that it would be better for both of them if she stayed wrapped inside her quilt, so he held her even tighter against his body until she conceded.
‘Okay,’ she whispered, and her mouth curved up at the sides into a timid smile that was so warm, trusting and caring that any shade of doubt he might have had was blown away in a fierce blast of red-hot attraction.
Only this time it was Ella who surprised him by wriggling her left arm free on top of the quilt and laying it on his chest as she snuggled closer into his shoulder and gave a gentle sigh. A sigh of contentment that hit him hard and hit him again as his own body responded to her touch.
His heart raced to match hers, the blood hot in his veins. The gentle pressure of the side of her face on his chest flicked on switches he’d thought were long burnt out. Switches connected to a tangled set of wires labelled with words like trust and caring and commitment.
Caring? His mind reeled at the very concept. This was impossible. Ridiculous! He could not be falling for this lovely woman he first met only yesterday. He just couldn’t! Could he?
What about the small matter of the fact that the worlds they inhabited were not only continents apart, but her world was based around Dan and the simple life in this house, whereas his…? He had renounced love and chosen the type of frenetic lifestyle where no second of the day was wasted in relaxation.
They might be breathing the same air, but apart from that they had so little in common it was crazy.
He glanced down at the gentle rise and fall of her chest against his in the warm glow from the now-hot fire. She was dozing. This beautiful, fragile, clever and funny woman was using him as a pillow.
And he absolutely adored it.
He was doomed.
And where did that leave him? Leave all three of them?
Only one way to find out.
‘I don’t know how to say this, so I’m simply going to say it anyway.’
His jaw seemed to tighten and as she looked into those wonderful amber-brown eyes they smiled back at her as though he was looking for reassurance that what he was about to say would not be rejected.
‘You are a very attractive woman, Ella Bailey Martinez. The kind of woman a guy like me could fall for very easily. And cause a lot of damage in the process.’
His hand slowly lifted up her fingers to his mouth, and his warm lips pressed against each of her fingertips, one by one, sending delicious shivers of tender longing sweeping through her.
It was the sweetest tender touch she had been missing, and the instant Seb lowered her hand and released her fingers she knew that she wanted him to do it again. And again.
It had been so long since she had been held like this, touched and caressed like this, even before Chris died when their love life had died down to the point of a few absentminded pecks on the cheek when he remembered.
There had been nobody else since.
Seb was like water in a desert. And she wanted to drink her fill.
‘I need to know if you feel the same way,’ he asked. ‘Or is it only me?’
She had sensed the attraction since the moment they had met on the dusty road, but putting it into words was harder than she expected.
He needed her to tell him how she felt.
He needed her.
And it was terrifying. What was going to happen? Was it possible that they could have a future together? Could she let this man into her life and take the consequences? For herself and for Dan?
Yes, Seb had been kind to Dan, and she had been surprised that her little boy had taken to Seb so quickly, but her simple life in rural France was poles apart from Seb’s high-flying world.
What had her mother always said when she struggled to learn how to sing a new ballad? ‘Go with your heart first. Follow your heart.’
Her fingers stroked his cheek and his eyes fluttered in pleasure before opening with such desire that every cell in her body screamed, ‘This one. Choose this one.’
She grinned and lifted her shoulders into a slight shrug. ‘I’m scared.’
Seb must have been holding his breath because he shuddered out a half-smile before hugging her closer. ‘Me too.’ His hand caressed her waist and she sensed the air change a little before he braced himself with the big question. ‘Are you scared for Dan? Or is it Dan’s father?’
She closed her eyes. She’d never talked about Christobal to anyone. Certainly not to Nicole or Sandrine. As far as they knew she had been a devoted wife who was still mourning the loss of her soulmate. The truth was too hard. And way too difficult.
Only now that she tried to recall the personal conversations with Seb in the short time she had known him, she realised that her husband had never come up. Seb had no way of understanding how she felt about the man she had loved once.
Her stomach cramped in anxiety and he instantly seemed to sense her resistance.
‘You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Being a single mother is hard enough. I know that Dan has to come first in your life.’
Now he was being sympathetic! This was totally wrong. She did not want sympathy from Seb. Just the opposite. And she especially did not want him to think that memories of Chris were still influencing her choices.
‘No. It’s okay. After Chris died in a car crash, my life was in turmoil.’ Ella focused on a spot in the pattern of the patchwork quilt as Seb squeezed her hand once more in encouragement. ‘But you know the hardest part? I knew that I was lying to myself and everybody else. Christobal and I were so in love when we married. It was a magical time for both of us, and I will never forget it. He was really making a name for himself as a conductor around the world and I loved travelling with him to rehearsals.’ She flashed a smile at Seb before refocusing on moving her hands in his.
Her head fell onto Seb’s chest. ‘Only… Once I got pregnant I couldn’t go with him on long overseas tours, and we…we drifted apart.’
Ella sucked in a breath and concentrated on the sound of the crackling fire and Seb’s heart b
eating under his shirt to steady herself enough to go on.
‘Chris adored Dan and we both agreed that he had to come first. We were both professionals. We had no illusions about how hard it was going to be when he was away so much. We just didn’t expect our marriage to fall apart so completely and so quickly in the process. The truth is…’ And her voice faltered, before she steadied herself to explain, ‘The truth is that for the last two years of marriage we were living more like brother and sister.’
Her head lifted in emphasis. ‘Oh, we cared about each other. Very much! And he loved Dan! We never stopped being friends, and I think we made a good show of pretending to be a happy couple, but in private we both knew that our marriage was over.’
Seb kissed her forehead before replying, ‘I am so sorry.’
She sighed and nodded once. ‘Me too. Christobal was a wonderful man who had a brilliant future ahead of him, and I still mourn him and miss having him in my life. Only, not so much as my husband, but more like the best kind of brother a girl could wish for. He was great company. Funny. Talented. He was the best friend I ever had. I miss him every day.’
‘I don’t understand. You are still wearing your wedding ring and answering to your married name,’ Seb replied, and Ella could feel a new awkwardness between them and he moved slightly back on the sofa, creating a physical as well as a mental barrier.
‘I was proud that he chose me as his wife and the mother of his child. As for now?’ Ella shook her head. ‘People know me as a grieving young widow and my efforts at making a new life haven’t gone too well, so I let them believe it for Dan’s sake as well as mine. I hate being such a hypocrite.’
‘You have nothing to be ashamed about,’ Seb replied, his brows coming together into a frown. ‘People change. It doesn’t mean that you didn’t care about each other or your son.’
‘I feel more disappointment than shame. I knew all about touring! How hard a life it was! But I believed that we would have a marriage like my parents. They have been married thirty-five years and are still so much in love it hurts. They can’t bear to be separated.’
Tears started to prick the back of Ella’s eyes now, and she straightened her back on the sofa and tried to slide away, but Seb brought his legs up, blocking her escape.
‘I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere until you get those demons off your chest.’
‘What if I don’t want to talk about it?’ Ella replied, her voice bumbling with more indignation and frustration than she had intended. ‘I’m not proud of having a failed marriage. And I’m even less proud of pretending to the world that it was perfect. Because it wasn’t at the end.’
‘You shared a wonderful few years together. Is that right? Is that true?’
She hesitated, already sensing where Seb was going with this question. For years she had felt the pain of never knowing what might have happened if Christobal had not jumped into that particular taxi cab on that particular day. Her feelings were so mixed up. Guilt. Regret. Disappointment. And fear. But one thing she was clear about was the answer to that question. She had loved Christobal and for a precious time he had loved her. ‘Yes. Yes, that is true.’
Seb slipped off the sofa and leant on the rug in front of the fire so that he was facing her directly. ‘Then celebrate that fact. And move on.’
Her mouth dropped open. ‘Move on? How do you propose I do that when I have a six-year-old little boy to take care of? If you want to feel sorry for someone, save your sympathy for Dan. He is the one who will never know his dad!’
She was shaking now, her voice harsh and angry despite being little more than a whisper. ‘Dan needs me to be strong for him. I’m all he has.’
Seb reached forward and clasped her hands in his, before she could move them out of reach. ‘How old was Dan when his father died?’
Ella looked into Seb’s eyes and the tenderness and caring in them almost broke her. ‘Eighteen months. No more than a baby really. We were living in Barcelona with his parents back then. Chris was in Mexico on tour when his taxi was broadsided by a truck. No brakes. He died instantly.’
A photo of the crash flashed into her mind and she instantly closed her eyes and squeezed them together to block out the terrible images, suddenly angry with Seb for making her see it again. For taking her back to those dark days of oblivion and pain when she was so very, very alone.
‘It must have been horrible for the whole family. His poor parents!’
‘Oh, yes, his poor parents!’ Ella replied with so much venom in her voice that she pulled her hand away from Seb’s grasp and slapped it over her mouth.
Horrified by what she had said, Ella spun her legs over the edge of the sofa and tried to stand, only to fall back dizzily, light-headed, her heart pounding.
Instantly Seb was holding her upright in his arms, supporting the back of her head with one hand as his other held her firmly against him, close enough for her sobs to be soaked up by the fabric of his shirt.
‘Oh, that was so unfair! Please forget I just said that. I am a horrible person for even thinking that way!’
‘No.’ Seb’s reply was muffled by her hair. ‘You are not a horrible person. Far from it. But something happened to upset you. You have come this far, Ella. You can tell me. Why is there such a rift between you and the Martinez family?’
Ella felt Seb lift up her chin so that she could see him smile down at her as his hand caressed her lower back, holding her in his arms, taking her weight. Supporting her. Those strong arms giving her the strength she needed to tell him the truth.
‘They…’ And she swallowed down hard and clamped her eyes shut as she clutched Seb even closer. ‘They tried to take Dan away from me. And they almost succeeded.’
CHAPTER NINE
SEB pulled the collar of Ella’s fleece jacket a little higher to ward off the chill wind that was still howling outside the kitchen door. The skin at the back of his fingers lingered just a little too long at the base of her neck as he flicked the hair from under the collar and smoothed down the soft, cosy fabric.
And he sealed it with a gentle touch of his lips to the hollow just below her ear.
His reward was a smile as warm as the steaming tea he set before her on the kitchen table. A ring of beeswax candles lit up the centre of the kitchen, their flickering flames creating an intimate dome of light, just bright enough to light the gas ring without accidents.
‘You don’t need to tell me anything else, Ella. I know that you are a wonderful mother. You’ve made a life for yourself and Dan. That’s all that matters.’
Ella nodded and sipped her tea. ‘That’s true. But it’s okay, I want to tell you.’ She looked at him with such trust and innocence that he slid back onto his seat and waited for her to begin.
The confident and joyous woman he had admired only a few hours ago was starting to return. And if telling him the truth made it easier, then he would listen. ‘I haven’t talked about this to anyone. Not even Nicole or Sandrine. But I have to go back to Barcelona with Dan next week, and maybe it is time to sort out what happens to Dan in the future.’
She sighed once, then gritted her teeth as painful memories hit hard.
‘After Chris died in the accident…well, I was a mess, Seb. So when Chris’s parents offered me a home with them for as long as I wanted, I was truly grateful. I really was. Everything was such a blur. My parents came to Barcelona for a few weeks but they had already given up the jazz club in London and bought a motor home to help with their touring. It was not designed for a young baby. As the months went by I started to feel…I don’t know. Trapped, I suppose. I like Barcelona, it is a beautiful city with a wonderful live music scene. But that made me yearn so much for my old life on the stage.’
‘And perhaps a little desperate to get your life back on track?’ Seb added, wanting her to know that he understood, only too well, how it felt when your world was turned upside down because of events you felt powerless to control.
She shrugged. ‘I
did something stupid, and booked a gig at one of the local jazz festivals Chris and I used to go to together with our musician friends. It was just a couple of hours on a lovely July afternoon.’ Then a smile crept back onto her mouth and Seb realised just how much he had missed that. ‘Dan slept through the whole thing at the side of the stage under the fierce protection of my Spanish friend and her mother.’
Ella closed her eyes and her smile dropped. ‘The fallout was horrendous. I was accused of being irresponsible and, well, a poor mother, for taking an infant into that sort of environment. I tried to explain that he had the best babysitters in the city and I could see him the whole time, but it was no good. As far as they were concerned I could not be trusted to look after their grandson.’
Her hands clamped tight around the beaker of steaming tea. ‘So they called their lawyers. Who took me to the cleaners.’
Ella focused on the flickering shadows from the candlelight and her voice was harsh now. ‘You can imagine the kind of picture their lawyers painted.’
She sighed and half smiled up at Seb. ‘Until I got married I had basically lived most of my life as a nomad. Apart from a few years of formal education in London I had been educated and had grown up on the road. Touring from town to town. Making a living as we went.’
She lifted her hands and pointed from finger to finger. ‘I don’t have any formal qualifications, even if I do speak several languages and can sight-read, play and sing just about any piece of music first pass. No savings, of course. No pension. No insurance. And no way of earning a living to support myself and my son. Oh—and I had no home to go to.’
She dropped her hands onto her lap. ‘Put that all together and any judge is going to think very hard about whether the child’s grandparents should have custody instead of this flakey, messed-up girl sitting in front of him.’
Seb took her hands in his so that their faces were only inches apart.
‘What did you do to change their minds?’
The Last Summer of Being Single Page 12
