‘Come on, Ana. The guy follows you halfway round the world. You can’t have nothing to say.’
‘Look,’ Ana said tiredly. ‘It was nothing.’
Phil pounced. ‘So there was an “it”? Define the “it”.’
‘Why do you want to know?’
‘Because I’m worried about you!’ He walked and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘You looked washed out.’
‘I told you the flight was long.’
‘It’s more than the flight.’
‘Well, what little there was is finished now.’ Ana sidestepped and moved to the door. ‘Sorry, Phil, but I really am tired.’
‘But—’
‘Leave it,’ Jack said to Phil.
But Phil didn’t leave it. ‘I thought you’d come home happier than this.’
‘What do you mean?’ She looked at him.
‘I thought…’ He frowned. ‘Ana, there’s so obviously something between you and Seb.’
‘Something. Yes. We slept together again, Phil—is that what you wanted to know?’
‘So now what?’ He looked confused.
‘Now nothing.’ She shrugged, not wanting to feel confusion herself. ‘It’s over.’
But Phil frowned, followed her to the door. ‘Last time you hooked up with him you went away together for a week and when you got back you then disappeared for months. Now you’ve had another week or so away with him—can you blame me for wondering what is going to happen next?’
‘Nothing’s going to happen, Phil. We’ve just…scratched the itch. Finished off the unfinished business,’ she said, unable to find a better cliché.
‘Can women do that?’
‘What?’
‘Well, you know, be so casual? I always thought it was harder for you to take the emotion out of sex.’
‘It’s hard for anyone to divorce emotion from the act of love,’ Jack chimed in.
‘Oh, please.’ Ana rolled her eyes. ‘It wasn’t an act of love. It was lust. Pleasure. Physical need. Nothing more.’
Phil and Jack stared. Silent. Sceptical.
Ana sighed. ‘Goodnight, guys.’ She strode to her room, focusing on one thing only: sleep—blankness of mind, nothing.
During the day she got busy with work. Went window-shopping. Immersed herself in the smells and sounds and sights of the big city—filling her senses with so much stuff that thoughts of the beach, the sand, the silence and the sex were banished from her mind.
But at night she tossed and turned and told herself again and again that the itch was all gone.
Friday she walked into the kitchen where Phil and Jack were opening a bottle of wine for their post-work snifter. ‘Let’s go out to dinner. My treat.’
‘Yeah?’ They looked delighted.
‘Yeah.’ She held up a pair of shoes she’d once thought she’d never wear. ‘But if you see me talking to a tall, dark, handsome stranger, come and smack some sense into me, OK?’
‘Deal.’ Phil laughed.
Ana grinned. ‘I need to get out.’
‘Yeah, you need to show off that tan.’
Seb knew the minute she arrived. Of course he’d had his eyes glued to the door so it wasn’t as if she was going to be able to sneak in without him knowing.
Even so his body seemed to sense it was her the second before she stepped into the bar. Adrenalin zinged along every vein. And unerringly she saw him too—in that first instant. Her brows lifted, something flashed in her eyes but he didn’t have the chance to read it—too soon she’d veiled them, too soon she’d looked away.
But she sidestepped her way through the other patrons and came over to him. Smile in place. ‘I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought you said you’d forsaken this kind of lifestyle. Aren’t you all about mountain biking and marathons now?’
He eyed her over the rim of his glass. ‘And I thought you’d be too busy setting up the business to have time to socialise.’
‘No. I can do social as well. I feel quite refreshed after Africa.’
She looked it too, damn her. Whereas he felt like death warmed up. Hadn’t slept properly since he’d got back. Cold. Lonely. Grumpy.
‘I’m getting the drinks.’ She looked at his halfempty one. ‘You need another?’
He shook his head. Phil took her place as she moved over to the bar to order.
Seb glanced at him. ‘Thanks for your message.’
Phil didn’t smile. ‘Make no mistake, Seb. I’m Ana’s friend.’
Seb smiled faintly. Was this Phil attempting some sort of overprotective attitude towards Ana? The guy didn’t know it but she was totally capable of taking care of herself. ‘So am I.’ Sort of. They had some kind of connection that counted, didn’t they?
He’d been going to come here anyway—whether he’d had the message or not he knew full well it was Phil and Jack’s favourite haunt and that if they were going to take her anywhere, it’d be here. He’d just wanted to see her. Now he had.
‘Are you going to join us for dinner?’ Phil asked. ‘We’re just waiting on a table at the Thai place across the road.’
Seb couldn’t stop staring after Ana. ‘I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.’
‘Thought you said you were friends. I’m sure Ana won’t mind.’
Yeah. That was what he was afraid of. That she didn’t care enough to mind. But he couldn’t resist staying, could he? ‘OK.’
Fairy Godfather Phil—that was what he wanted to be. Ana glared at her friend. It was better than having to spend any more time looking across the table at Seb. Because seeing him made something twist inside her. For once it wasn’t his gorgeousness heating her belly. If anything he looked less than his usual immaculate male-model self. He looked tired around the eyes, maybe even thinner. And it was that causing the discomfort inside her.
She abandoned her dinner. Noticed he’d stopped eating too. She couldn’t resist prying just a little. ‘You’re not with your dad tonight?’
‘He’s not having a stag do if that’s what you mean.’
‘What time is the wedding?’
He shrugged, his brow wrinkling. She wanted to smooth it. His eyes, in just that second, looked so unhappy. Sure he was laughing with Phil and Jack, sure he was making the effort. But that was what she sensed—the effort it was taking him. Clearly the whole wedding thing was cutting him up. The ridiculous urge to comfort him flooded her—she wanted to hold him and make him laugh. Make him carefree again.
Careless.
Where had the fun-loving Seb gone?
As the evening progressed the urge to reach out to him only grew. She’d thought she could handle it. She really had. At last they headed back to Phil and Jack’s—running the few streets in the drizzle. Phil and Jack took the mickey about her shoes and Seb’s smile flashed in the dark as she ran faster than all of them just to prove herself.
The guys insisted Seb stop for another drink before going on to his apartment. Phil opened his whisky and the three parked in the lounge. Ana tried to join in—fixed herself a hot chocolate and acted as if none of it were a problem. But in the end all she could do was run away.
She lay in bed and listened to the deep voices. The laughter resonated up the wooden stairs. But in her mind’s eye she saw him with that pain in his expression. It had been a mere flash but she knew it went deep. She sighed. What was she doing caring?
She finally slept—waking to hear Jack remonstrating with Phil, telling him to hurry up. She glanced at her watch—after ten already. The boys were off to Manchester for a couple of days to see Jack’s family and they had a long drive ahead of them.
She pulled on jeans and a tee. Wandered down and grinned at Phil’s greenish tinge and dark glasses. ‘Late night?’
‘Early morning,’ he grumbled.
She walked him to the door. Jack was wrestling with an oversize suitcase, trying to jam it, and the other twenty bags, into the boot of his car, muttering about the amount of stuff Phil insisted on taking with him.
> Phil sighed. ‘He loves my high-maintenance tendencies, really.’
‘Of course he does.’ Phil was exceptionally high maintenance but he was also such fun. ‘Have a great time.’
Phil turned back and took her wrist. Usually his face was lit with laughter but now he was serious. ‘Don’t run away again.’
She hadn’t contacted him during the time she’d hidden away down south. He hadn’t told her off, had never pried—not about that. Just opened his door, taken one look and let her in. So she owed him now and gave a promise she was determined to keep. ‘I won’t.’
The sparkle in his eye rekindled—sly this time. ‘Are you going to go wake Sleeping Beauty?’
‘I suppose,’ she said darkly.
‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.’
Well, that gave her a hell of a lot of leeway, didn’t it? He winked and she waved. She walked back into the apartment and glanced at the immobile log still sound asleep on the sofa, then at the empty bottles on the table. Clearly a very early morning for them all.
In the kitchen she got the espresso machine working. Made it so strong it was like thick brown goo dripping into the cup. She lifted the cup and wandered back through to the lounge. Held the steaming brew under his nose.
‘Wake up, Seb.’
One eye opened and quickly shut again. ‘I’m dreaming.’
‘No, you’re not.’
He peered at her again. ‘Ugh. You’re right. If I was, you’d be naked.’
‘Sebastian, you have to get up. Aren’t you due at your father’s wedding?’
‘Not going.’ His growl took her aback.
‘What?’
He sighed. ‘Look, I have no interest in seeing my dad get married again. Certainly not to a woman only a few years older than me.’
‘Seb.’ She shook her head. ‘Aren’t you the best man?’
‘Been there, done that. Twice already. Not gonna again.’
‘Seb, this is your father.’ He couldn’t skip this. He’d regret it. She knew he would.
‘So? I don’t know her family. There’s not a lot of mine. It’s not going to be fun, Ana, and it’ll all be over in a year or two at best. What’s the point?’
‘It’s not about having fun. It’s about being there for your family.’ She paused.
‘Not going.’ He lifted his head from the sofa and raised his voice too. ‘They’re too annoying.’
‘You should be grateful you have parents to be annoyed by.’
His head thudded back on the cushion. ‘Oh, you had to go low, didn’t you?’
‘Yeah. You can’t argue with me.’ She handed him the mug. ‘Drink up. I’ll take you back to yours and drive you to the wedding.’
‘I’m perfectly capable of driving.’
Like hell he was. ‘With the amount you obviously drank last night? So much you couldn’t walk the three blocks back to your place? It’s still got to be in your system.’
‘I didn’t have that much. Not enough anyway.’
‘Well, you smell like you’re over the limit.’
Seb grunted. Unable to deny his amusement. Yeah, he reeked. But that was because in the carousing with Phil he’d spilt a giant glass of Scotland’s finest over his clothes. Terrible waste. But it had got late and Phil had been keen to stay up later—sly dog. He’d known, hadn’t he, that the last thing Seb had wanted to do was leave? He’d tossed him a blanket, telling him it was too cold/wet/late to walk home—making it easy for him. And Seb had practically leapt at the offer. Hell, he’d slept better on this too small sofa than he had in his own right-sized bed. Just knowing she was near. That he was going to see her again soon—in only a few hours rather than the uncertain number of days he’d had to wait this week.
Hell. There was something seriously wrong with him.
‘I’ll walk home.’ He needed to get his head together.
‘I’m coming with you.’
His mood inexplicably lifted. ‘Why?’
‘Because I have the feeling you’re not going to show up at the wedding. And I think that would be a mistake.’
He eyed her lazily. He didn’t give a damn about the wedding. ‘What are you going to do about it?’
‘I’m going to take you there myself.’
‘You’re inviting yourself to my father’s wedding?’ His heart stopped beating.
‘Yeah.’ She tossed her head. ‘Why not?’
Why not? Hell, she had no idea how close he was to giving in to base urges and hauling her into his arms. His heart thumped again—a couple of uneven beats before picking up speed as his brain processed the idea of having the whole day with her. ‘You want to see what the craziness is like?’
‘Is it that crazy, Seb?’
‘It’s hell.’ He closed his eyes again as he thought of something far more wickedly exciting. ‘What are you going to wear?’
There was a bit of a pause. Then he heard her soft voice—heard the catch of shy laughter.
‘Actually I have the most amazing dress. A few, in fact. Want to help me choose?’
‘OK.’ Of course he did.
‘I’ll go get them.’
‘No to anything black,’ he called after her.
In a minute she was back, holding a hanger with a dress floating from it. ‘No black limits options. What about this?’
He stared, his whole body reacting, and was damn glad of the blanket he still had over him. ‘Have you ever worn it in public?’
‘No.’
He almost managed a laugh.
‘What do you think?’
Her eyes were wide, her teeth caught on her lower lip. He thought he was about to burst out of his skin with lust.
He forced his eyes back to the dress. It was green or maybe blue, a shimmering slip of a thing with spaghetti straps. And short. Far, far too short.
‘You can’t wear that.’ That was what he thought.
‘Why not?’
‘Because it looks like it belongs in a bedroom.’
‘You think?’ She grinned. ‘The woman in the boutique assured me it was for evening wear.’
He bet she had.
‘It has a wrap that goes with it. So I won’t freeze.’ She was looking at the dress again thoughtfully. ‘But I can’t wear a bra under it—the straps will show.’
‘Wear strapless.’ He choked.
‘I don’t have strapless.’ She frowned and then smiled. ‘But I can get one. We can call in at Harvey Nicks on the way.’ She shook the dress on the hanger so it shimmered more. ‘And I can’t wear knickers—the lines will show.’
Oh, she just had to be doing it deliberately. ‘Umm.’
‘G-string.’
‘OK,’ he said roughly. ‘Sounds good.’
‘So you’ll go, then?’
What choice did he have? ‘Yeah.’
Ana barely suppressed her giggles as she walked with him to his apartment. The look on his face had been priceless. No bra? No knickers? Ana had never had the experience of turning someone to jelly at her feet before. It was hilarious—and heady. But he had to go to the wedding. If she had to hog-tie him and carry him in there, he had to go. She knew what it was like to fall out with family. He was hurting now—if he didn’t show he’d hurt more. He had parents who loved him—who’d made life hard, for sure, but who had loved him. Where there was love there was hope, right?
She looked around his apartment as he disappeared upstairs. It was totally different from when she’d been in there a year ago. It had been stripped and modernised. Light and spacious, the kitchen was fantastic.
‘What do you think?’ Seb called.
‘Phil did a good job.’
‘Yeah.’ He walked through to where she was with just a towel slung low round his hips.
Ana stared. He’d shaved. He’d showered. He’d gone back to gorgeous.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked, unable to tear her eyes from his frame.
He hadn’t dried himself properly. Droplets of water clung t
o his chest—tracking down his oh-so-toned abs. Her body began its meltdown—Seb and water. There was nothing like Seb and water.
He looked surprised at her question. ‘Need to iron a shirt.’
Not sexy. Not sexy. Seeing a man in a towel ironing a shirt was not sexy.
Right—her boobs weren’t getting the message. Nor was her womb.
Ana had to put herself in time out. ‘I’m going to get to grips with your car.’
She took his key and went out to where the sleek machine was parked. Tossed the bag with her shoes and dress into the back and sat in the seat and figured out the windscreen wipers.
He grinned wickedly when he slung into the seat beside her. ‘Harvey Nicks, here we come.’
Ana kept her eyes on the road. She hadn’t seen Seb in a suit in a while. And if she looked now they’d have an accident. Fatal.
But Seb had come to life. Any trace of hangover was obliterated as, frighteningly at ease in the lingerie department, he happily browsed through the racks of silk and lace and nothing-much-else. He held up a couple and looked surprised when she turned on him crossly.
‘Can’t you go and be embarrassed in the corner like any normal man would?’
‘And miss out on all this? No way.’ He grinned as her colour rose. ‘All right, I’ll go look at the bikinis. That make you happy?’
Ten minutes later she stood in the booth and sighed. There was no denying it. There was no bra on earth that could be worn under the dress. She had to go commando.
‘You can get away with it. Not many could.’
Oh, hell, she was going to have to walk in public like this? Thank heavens for the wrap. Ana turned to the assistant. ‘I feel bad about not buying…’
‘Don’t worry. Your husband is out there buying up a storm.’
‘He is?’ Her husband? He’d announced their relationship to the store?
The woman nodded. ‘Now he’s sure of your size…’ Her brow raised.
Ana didn’t need the mirror to know she was cherry red. The shop assistant clearly thought there was some kind of Pygmalion thing going on with her and Seb because she’d already sent for one of the girls from an exclusive make-up counter.
‘It won’t take a moment to touch up your face.’
Touch it up?
To Love, Honour and Disobey Page 9
