Kindred Hearts

by Grace Lowrie

  ‘Where’s Celeste?’ he said as I retreated to the kitchen and he closed the front door.

  ‘She’s still asleep.’

  ‘Are you OK?’

  I poured myself a coffee. ‘Yes, fine,’ I said more curtly than I intended. ‘Do you want one?’ I asked gesturing to the coffee pot.

  ‘No thanks, I’ve got one.’

  I tidied up some used mugs and loaded bread into the toaster to keep my hands busy. I was having trouble meeting Sebastian’s intense gaze as my mind bombarded me with conflicting thoughts. Eventually Sebastian came and stood right beside me. I could feel the heat of his body radiating against my bare arm as I continued to butter some toast.

  ‘You seemed to enjoy yourself last night,’ he said quietly.

  I paused, the butter knife hovering in mid-air, but didn’t look at him.

  ‘I’m glad,’ he said. ‘I mean, it was torture for me – I couldn’t take my eyes off you and I resented every man who spoke to you – but I’m glad you’re …’

  ‘Moving on?’ I finished for him, glancing up into his shimmering blue gaze.

  ‘Well, I was going to say “happy” but OK …’

  ‘It was you who spent the night with another woman,’ I said, fighting to keep the tremor out of my voice.

  ‘Mariella?’ Sebastian said, confused.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But … she’s just a friend.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ I said turning back to my toast, aware of how pathetic I sounded.

  ‘It’s true. Yes, Mariella would like there to be more between us, but she knows I’m not interested; she’s my best mate’s sister, we were just catching up. And she’s a good human shield – when I’m with her, other women don’t try to hit on me, whereas every guy in the room hit on you …’

  I set down the butter knife and tried to absorb what Sebastian was saying, to let his words soothe my irrational anger.

  ‘Wait … You were jealous of Mariella?’ Sebastian said incredulously, a smile starting to spread across his face. I glared at him and he stopped.

  ‘So you didn’t sleep with her?’ I said, aware that I had no right to ask.

  Sebastian gently took my hand in his, making me tingle with warmth. ‘No. I went to bed alone,’ he said.

  ‘And she didn’t come looking for you?’ I asked, dubious.

  ‘I don’t think so, I wouldn’t know if she had – I lock the door to the third floor when we have guests.’

  ‘Why?’ I said, surprised.

  ‘I like my privacy,’ Sebastian shrugged.

  ‘Oh.’ I withdrew my hand from his and took a gulp of coffee as I tried to digest this information. There was no denying I was relieved that Sebastian hadn’t slept with Mariella and quietly thrilled that he still found me attractive. But it didn’t really change anything, not really. I loved him. Suddenly the prospect of living like this, waiting in agony to see him fall for someone else, was too much.

  ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ Sebastian murmured.

  Tears sprang up as if from nowhere and spilled heavily down my face.

  ‘God, Natasha, please don’t cry.’ Sebastian pulled me into his arms and held me to his chest. It felt wonderfully bittersweet and despite my warring emotions, desire exploded, unwelcome, inside my body.

  ‘Don’t,’ I said as I pulled away from him.

  ‘What’s wrong? Why are you crying?’ Sebastian looked pale with concern.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, wishing my tears would stop falling. ‘I can’t do this, I thought I could but I can’t. I can’t change how I feel, I’ve tried but I can’t – I fell for you a long time ago … and …’

  ‘What? No,’ Sebastian breathed, stunned.

  I took a deep breath and wiped my cheeks. ‘It’s not your fault, it’s mine.’

  ‘It is my fault if I’ve hurt you.’

  ‘No. I’ll be fine,’ I said, as much for my benefit as for his. I felt embarrassed by my outburst of emotion and mortified by my confession. I swiped a sheet of paper towel from the side and blew my nose as I sat down at the breakfast bar. Sebastian was quiet, but drew up a stool beside me while I sipped my coffee. We sat in silence for a long time and I wondered what Sebastian was thinking and what, if anything, he might do. In spite of everything I hoped he wouldn’t leave. Eventually he spoke.

  ‘I still remember the first time I saw you,’ he said softly.

  ‘In the school hall?’ I said, flushing to the roots of my hair at the memory.

  Sebastian smiled. ‘No, before that,’ he said. ‘That was just the first time you noticed me.’

  I looked at him, taken aback.

  ‘It was your first day – your dad dropped you off at the school gates and you looked so frightened and lonely …’

  I grimaced at the memory.

  ‘… but then as I watched, you raised your chin, straightened your back and strode across the playground with this incredible grace … You were so beautiful – snow-white skin, bewitching green eyes, and hair glowing like hot embers in the sunlight. Every single kid stopped and turned to admire you.’

  I laughed, incredulous. ‘That’s not how I remember it.’

  Sebastian just smiled at me affectionately and I felt my cheeks flush.

  ‘Why didn’t you ever speak to me then?’

  ‘Because you befriended my sister, of all people … and … I was slightly in awe of you.’

  I shook my head. ‘That’s crazy! Are you sure you’re remembering correctly? You used to say some pretty mean things about me to your friends, as I recall.’

  ‘Really? I don’t remember that, but if I did it was almost certainly because I didn’t want any of them getting close to you.’

  I shook my head again in amazement, my mind whirling with the influx of information, and Sebastian smiled thoughtfully, as if he was weighing something in his mind.

  ‘Natasha, can I show you something?’

  ‘Sure,’ I said, curious.

  We checked on Celeste on our way up the stairs, but she was still asleep. I hadn’t been up to the third floor, Sebastian’s floor, for months – not since the night I’d seduced him in his office and he’d taken me on his desk. Sebastian led me into his bedroom and I suppressed a shiver of anticipation as he locked the door securely behind us. What was he up to? Did he want to have sex? Did I want to? Now that I knew I loved him? Now that he knew I did? Wouldn’t that make everything worse?

  The room looked much as I remembered it although it was now November and low sunshine poured in through the window, bathing the cosy room in a watery, wintery light. Sebastian straightened out the duvet on his bed, smoothing it with one hand so that I could sit down.

  ‘Have you ever been to Sir John Soane’s Museum?’

  ‘Yes, several times, it’s one of my favourite places.’

  ‘Mine too. You’ve been inside the picture gallery and seen the moving walls?’

  ‘Yes – his clever way of creating more space for displaying his paintings.’

  Sebastian nodded. ‘I have something similar – a hidden gallery – it’s nothing sinister – it’s just where I hang the pictures I don’t want anyone else to see.’

  ‘Oka-ay …’ Where was this going? ‘I didn’t think anyone came up here anyway?’ I said confused.

  ‘Ha. Yes you’re right – if I’m honest they’re pictures I don’t want Celeste to see. I had it installed when we first moved in.’

  Now I was really curious and didn’t know what to say. Sebastian walked to the opposite side of the room next to the photos on the wall. He turned and looked at me.

  ‘I really hope this doesn’t freak you out,’ he muttered under his breath before reaching up to the top of the timber cladding and releasing a hidden catch.

  I tensed as a hinged section of wall slowly, silently, swung open to reveal three more modestly sized, framed photos on the wall behind. As I stared at the images I automatically rose to my feet and moved closer, compelled to identify what I was seeing.
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  The photographs all captured the same woman – in the first she was just a girl, fourteen years old, wearing rolled-up jeans and a T-shirt. She was paddling in a stream, giggling, sunlight in her hair and delight in her eyes. In the second photograph she was twenty, standing in the sea on Brighton beach with almost the exact same expression on her face except that it was night time and the moonlight picked out the sensual curves of her body. In the third and final picture she was twenty-six. It was night again but she was sitting at the edge of an outdoor swimming pool, her silky dress clinging to her breasts, her long bare legs floating gracefully in the water. She was smiling wistfully, almost enigmatically, and the reflected light brought out the green in her eyes. The photographs were all of me. I was seeing myself through Sebastian’s eyes for the very first time and it was utterly overwhelming.

  ‘I hope you don’t feel like I’ve been spying on you or anything,’ Sebastian said. ‘Back in the day I photographed everything, anything – I threw most of them away but that first one of you was my favourite.’

  I was still speechless, eyes glued to the pictures in front of me. I unconsciously lifted my fingers to the glass just to make sure it was real.

  ‘Then we bumped into you so unexpectedly that night in Brighton and I don’t know – you looked so incredible …’

  I was vaguely aware that Sebastian sounded anxious.

  ‘I know at the party, I shouldn’t have … it was wrong of me not to ask your permission first, but when I saw you sitting there, I just couldn’t resist the opportunity to complete the set …’ he tailed off embarrassed, unsure of my reaction.

  But as I gazed at these beautiful images I realised with absolutely certainty that Sebastian Walker loved me. This strong, sexy, talented man, loved me. He may not realise it and he may never admit it, but I’d seen and heard enough now to be sure. As this wonderful, warm understanding and conviction spread through me I straightened my spine, turned to Sebastian and raised my head to meet his eyes. I took his handsome, troubled face in my hands and kissed him profoundly, deeply on the mouth. After a moment’s hesitation he returned my kiss. He tasted of coffee and relief. When I paused to catch my breath Sebastian searched my face.

  ‘You love me,’ I said slowly and deliberately. ‘Just as much as I love you.’

  Sebastian stared back at me intently as my words sank in. I kissed him again, sensuously, feeling his passion grow. Then I pulled back and gazed into his face again, wondering what he was thinking.

  ‘I do love you,’ he said softly, with fear in his eyes.

  His admission nearly made me cry. I swallowed hard.

  ‘Make love to me, Sebastian,’ I said calmly.

  Gently, with unspoken intensity and searing, aching need, Sebastian peeled the clothes from my body, lifted me in his arms, and lay me down on his bed. Starting at my jawline he systematically, almost reverently, worked his way steadily south, caressing my skin with his lips and tongue and hands until my whole body was singing with excitement. He lightly nibbled up along the inside of my thighs, grazing my skin with his teeth and his stubble, seemingly relishing every inch of me. By the time he reached the apex of my thighs I was molten with anticipation; moaning and squirming against him, tugging at his hair with my fingers and urging him on. He flicked his tongue across my clitoris so lightly at first; teasing me, testing me; making me gasp with his electrifying touch again and again. As I lifted my hips towards him he opened his mouth across the swollen folds of my sex, his breath hot on my skin and firmly dragged his tongue upwards in one slow, deliberately lavish lick. I cried out as he groaned in the back of his throat, the sound of his pleasure almost my undoing, even as I tried not to let go. I wanted him inside me; to take me with him. As if sensing my needs he paused to pull his clothes off, his eyes barely leaving my body.

  At last Sebastian gripped the solid length of his penis in his hand and guided himself inside me, gradually filling me, my body smouldering, trembling with desire. He slowly rolled his hips, stroking and coaxing my insides and watching my face intently as I moaned incoherently about how good it felt. But he had not yet started to move.

  ‘Sebastian!’ I begged, my head pressed back, my eyes tight shut, craving the delicious velvet friction only he could provide.

  ‘Natasha, look at me.’

  I stared up at him; lost in the fierce blue burning in his eyes; lost in his love for me. He tenderly brushed a strand of hair from my face and then bent to kiss my nipples, sending darts of undiluted pleasure shooting down to where our bodies merged. I rocked my pelvis and squeezed him inside me, desperate for release. And Sebastian could delay no longer; he set a determined driving pace, his eyes on mine as thrust after thrust, bearing his love for me, tipped us over the edge. We came together, falling hard and loud, in the warm winter morning light.

  Afterwards, as I basked naked in Sebastian’s arms, on the bed that he didn’t share with anyone, before three beautiful photographs of me, I could barely believe my luck. I languidly inhaled Sebastian’s delicious scent, serenaded by the warm steady beat of his heart while I explored the powerful ridges and curves of his muscles up close for the first time. There was a smattering of fine dark hair across his chest and along his forearms, where they were lighter, bleached by the sun. His skin was almost flawless but I discovered a neat row of three tiny little moles, an Orion’s belt, hidden on the sensitive skin just below his left armpit. I had an overwhelming urge to kiss them – so I did.

  ‘I love you,’ Sebastian mumbled drowsily, his face buried in my hair.

  ‘I love you.’

  ‘I think I’ve always loved you,’ he added.

  ‘And I, you.’ I said simply.

  Sebastian shifted and stared into my eyes. ‘Really?’ he said.

  ‘Yes.’

  A myriad of emotions played across Sebastian’s face, reminding me of his sister. His dark hair was sticking up where I’d run my hands through it and his lips were full and flushed from all our kissing. ‘What are we going to do?’ he said at last.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I replied honestly.

  We gazed at each other for a while, knowing without words, that despite the depth of our feelings, our situation hadn’t changed. Neither of us could bear to hurt Celeste. I lightly traced the scar beside his left eye with my fingertips.

  ‘Did you really get this on a building site?’

  He hesitated, his deep blue gaze not leaving mine. ‘No,’ he said at last. ‘It was a bar fight.’

  My mouth fell open in surprise.

  ‘It was years ago now. Celeste got into an argument with a guy who’d drunk too much. When I stepped in, he hit me with a pint glass.’

  ‘Jesus!’

  Sebastian shrugged. ‘It could have been worse.’

  I was still gaping and Sebastian reached out and gently nudged my chin with his knuckle.

  ‘What was the argument about?’

  Sebastian sighed. ‘It was more of a misunderstanding. You know what Celeste can be like – she underestimates the effect she has on people – he thought he was on to a sure thing and got angry when he realised he wasn’t.’

  I nodded. I could picture the scene perfectly; no one could resist Celeste when she was in a flirtatious mood. But poor Sebastian … she’d almost cost him his sight. No wonder she’d lied to me about it, she must feel terrible.

  ‘Hey,’ Sebastian tenderly brushed my mouth with his thumb, tantalising my nerve endings. ‘It was a long time ago and Celeste’s a lot more careful nowadays.’

  I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his scar, as if to kiss away the pain of the past. He cupped my face with his hands and drew my mouth down to his, holding me close against him as he kissed me deeply, my pulse quickening with desire. But I knew we were on borrowed time and I reluctantly pulled away.

  ‘I should go,’ I said.

  Sebastian nodded, kissing me once more on the lips before releasing me. I quickly dressed and raked my fingers through my tangled hair while Sebastian
watched me, still naked, from his bed.

  ‘Oh, happy birthday!’ I said.

  A beautiful boyish smile spread across his face. ‘Thank you.’

  I unlocked the door and playfully blew him a kiss before heading back to my own room. Once there I quickly got in the shower again, to wash Sebastian’s tell-tale scent from my skin, lost in my thoughts.

  I had only been there a matter of minutes when there was a gentle knock at the bedroom door and Celeste called my name.

  ‘I’m in here …’ I called back rattled; I hadn’t expected her to be up yet.

  She appeared in the bathroom doorway wrapped in a robe, her hair a mess. I stuck my head around the shower screen and smiled, trying hard not to look guilty.

  ‘There you are, darling! I went downstairs and no one was there – I thought everyone had left without me.’

  ‘No, of course not, the Italians had to leave early but Sebastian and I saw them off.’

  Celeste yawned. ‘Do you mind if I join you in there?’

  ‘No, of course not. Happy birthday.’

  ‘Thank you, darling!’

  As Celeste closed the door, removed her gown, and joined me under the hot water I knew that I’d had a lucky escape. Celeste had missed catching Sebastian and I together by mere minutes. As she kissed me softly, her lips tender and sweet, I silently vowed to be more careful. It wasn’t just lust and friendship between the twins and me, it was love. Pure, potent, perilous, highly addictive love.

  Downstairs in the breakfast room later that morning, I propped their joint birthday present against the wall under the TV screen and then nervously sat on the sofa next to Sebastian, while Celeste excitedly unwrapped it. As she carefully peeled away the paper and staggered backwards to view it, my anxiety grew. At first neither of them said anything and I was tempted to close my eyes, afraid to see their faces, but then Celeste gushed and I knew she was pleased.

  ‘Oh, Tasha! Thank you!’ She clapped her hands to her cheeks and stared at the painting in surprise.