by Rosen, Janey
“No, you’re wrong,” I stress. “Don’t you see? If I file the order against her, the only way he can have me back is if she leaves, as I can’t be in the same house with Scarlett. He loves me. I know he does. He may not think that at the moment, but I’m certain that’s the case. I just need to do something dramatic, to force him to make the decision to kick her out.” This makes perfect sense to me. It’s a win-win situation. The blood test may, or may not, identify drugs in my body and the restraining order sends a clear message to both Scarlett and Sebastian that I mean business. She has to go. Of course, if drugs are detected in my bloodstream, she’ll be going off to prison. Perfect. A faultless plan.
“Kick who out, Mum?” Bella drifts into the kitchen looking half asleep and slumps onto a vacant chair at the table.
“Nobody, darling. Anyway, birthday girl, I’m going to cook your favourite breakfast.” Leaning across, arms open, Bella flops forward into my tight embrace. “Happy birthday, my darling girl. Eighteen today. I can hardly believe it.”
“Happy birthday, Bellaboo,” Ruth, in her polka-dot finery, joins the group hug and my thoughts return to my daughter’s special day.
“Whoa. It’s fab, I love it.” Bella casts aside the wrapping paper and admires the small gold locket in its box.
“I hope you really do like it, love,” I say, anxiously gauging her reaction as she holds the gift in her palm. She nods enthusiastically as her thumbnail prises open the delicate clasp revealing two tiny photographs.
“It’s Dad…and Joe.” My daughter’s eyes pool with tears as she traces the outline of their smiling faces.
Resting my hand on her arm, I tell her, “Now you’ll always have them near you, Bella. Wear it and they’ll be close to your heart.” Ruth sniffs back her own emotion, while tears spill unbidden down Bella’s cheeks. I’m a blubbering mess.
“Oh, Mum. I love it. Thank you,” she says as we all hug once more.
Ruth fetches a neon pink gift bag from the lounge and presents it to Bella with a smirk on her face. “Open it, love. Many happy returns from your mother’s craziest, most generous friend—me.”
Bella giggles as she peers inside the bag, retrieving a miniature bottle of gin and a branded glass. I scowl at Ruth who flashes an admonishing frown in return. Placing the bottle and glass on the kitchen table, Bella pulls a packet of condoms from the bag. My scowl extends way past disapproval and Ruth laughs, joined by my daughter.
“Ruth!” I rebuke. “She’s my baby girl, not a drunken slut.” My friend chuckles. The next gift is far more appropriate in my opinion: a beautiful silk robe in midnight blue. Bella whoops with joy and slips the delicate robe over her purple shorty pyjamas. She looks so grown up that I start blubbing all over again.
“Thanks so much, Ruth.” Bella squeezes Ruth tightly and kisses her cheek. “Love you so much. You’re the best.”
Ruth hugs her back, stroking a hand down Bella’s back. “And I love you so much too,” she whispers. “Not having had kids of my own, I feel like you’re my daughter too.”
“And you’re like a second Mum to me.”
At twelve o’clock, the doorbell chimes. My stomach has been knotted all morning and, although my head is clearer, the malaise remains. The last few days seem to have sapped what meagre energy I had and I know that I’m not strong enough to face a confrontation with Sebastian. My hand hesitates on the door latch. The bell chimes once more. Ruth calls out that someone is at the door and I reply that I’m getting it. Opening the door, my eyes lock with Sebastian’s.
Chapter 11
Fuck, he looks devastatingly gorgeous, dressed in black denim jeans, and a pale blue and cream striped shirt that enhances the vast breadth of his masculine shoulders. “Elizabeth.” He hesitates on the threshold, seemingly unsure if he is welcome. Opening the door wider, my hand sweeps in an invitation to enter my home.
“Sebastian. Come in. Good journey?”
“Indeed it was.” So formal, so aloof, and so very hurtful. He steps into the hallway, his gaze still locked on mine. I look away, fidgeting with the spaghetti straps on the jade green summer dress I chose to wear today, knowing how he loves me in green. He always says it suits my fair complexion and blonde hair.
“You look better,” he observes coolly. “More colour in your cheeks.”
“I am better,” I confirm confidently. “The pills are helping.” Oh how the lies fall so readily upon my lips, I reflect, telling him what I know he needs to hear.
“That is good.” He thrusts his hands in the pockets of his jeans, shoulders hunched, looking uncomfortable and unsure. I wonder at what point we became so prickly in each other’s company; when did the love recede?
“There’s my girl. Happy birthday, darling.” His gaze shifts from me and settles warmly upon my daughter as she descends the stairs two at a time and leaps into his waiting arms.
“Hello, you big bear,” she gushes, her arms encircling his waist, his strong bare arms locking her in a tight embrace. “Thanks for coming.”
“It’s my pleasure, darling. I wouldn’t miss your special day, princess.” Watching the two most precious people in my life together again is wonderful. We belong together—a family, protecting and loving each other. What right have I to deny Bella the only father figure she has in her life? As Sebastian tickles my daughter mercilessly, the knot in my stomach unwinds just a little. Leaving the giggling pair to their frivolity, I busy myself in the kitchen preparing lunch. Sebastian’s favourite dish of salmon in an herb crust is on the menu. On reflection it should have been Bella’s favourite ‘meat feast’ pizza but I know she’ll understand. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.
I sense him behind me, even before I turn to face him. He’s close, his warm breath on the back of my neck so apparent with my hair clipped up while I cook. My hand trembles, the wooden spoon slipping from my grasp into the pan of dill sauce. The touch of his finger tips on the nape of my neck is so light that I wonder if it is imagined, borne of my desire to have him possess me once more.
“Sebastian.” The whispered word is carried on a breath that I can no longer hold. My sex clenches as his finger weaves a path down my spine to my sacrum where it circles arbitrarily. “Sebastian.” Again I say his name, though it’s neither a command to stop nor an objection to his touch.
“Don’t fight me,” he rasps, his lips brushing my earlobe, my panties drenched in my arousal. My breath catches as his body presses into mine, his erection against my lower back, a muscular arm snaking around me. His hand lifts the hem of my dress with determined force, my back arching as he brushes the thin fabric of my panties. “Fuck. You’re wet.” His teeth catch my earlobe, the sharp pain melding with pleasure.
“You still want me.” Oblivious to the risk of interruption, I’m lost in ecstasy as his fingers continue their assault, now slipping under the elastic, probing, seeking out my swollen bud. Clutching the counter top for support, my hips thrust forward to meet his touch. “Say you are mine,” he instructs, his breath hot on my neck. “Say it. I. Am. Yours.”
“I am yours. Only yours.” My nipples, hard and throbbing, strain against the constraints of my bra as his thumb rubs in delicious circles over my clit, around it and over it once more. Again and again, the friction sends me into a frenzy. “Sebastian, I need you.” His touch sends tremors through my over-stimulated body, so close to climax. Fuck, I need to come. I need to come for him…for us.
“Ssh,” he murmurs. “Come for me.” His words trigger my release, the orgasm wracking my body from my core to my extremities, my sex clenching hard around his slick fingers as he thrusts them deep into my vagina. “That’s right, baby. Oh, fuck yes. You’re gushing for me.”
The creak of a floorboard propels me back to the kitchen, back to reality with a rush of panic. Sebastian’s hand withdraws sharply as he steps away from me, tugging down my dress in a fluid motion just as Ruth appears. If she notices the red flush on my cheeks or my startled expression, she pretends n
ot to notice. “How long until lunch?” she asks. “I’m famished.”
“Elizabeth’s just making the sauce, aren’t you, darling?” He is so damn cool. He arches a brow and folds his arms, resting back against the kitchen table as if he is innocence personified. “Elizabeth?”
“Ten. Ten minutes,” I stammer, my legs still weak from the incredible orgasm.
“Fine.” Ruth sighs. “I’ll leave you lovebirds alone. It’s refreshing to see you getting along. Call me when it’s ready.” With a toss of her unruly curls, she marches out of the kitchen as I glare at Sebastian.
“Oh, Mister Innocent,” I hiss. “Elizabeth’s just making the sauce, aren’t you darling…You’ll get sauce, all right. On your bloody head.”
He chuckles softly, adding to my irritation. Seeing the tea towel conveniently close, I clutch it and twizzle it into a make-shift whip. His eyes narrow. “Don’t you dare,” he warns in a low growl, his lips curved in a wry smile.
“You dare me?” I goad, whipping the air with my flimsy weapon. “Really?”
“Really,” he confirms, arms still folded, his expression dark. “Go ahead. See what happens.” The temptation too great to resist, my wrist deftly whips the coiled towel landing a ‘thwack’ against Sebastian’s bare arm. He doesn’t flinch yet it must have stung. Unfolding his arms, he looks down and regards a red mark forming on his enormous bicep. As he takes a determined step toward me, I reload my weapon, the towel coiled and ready to strike again. He bites down on his lower lip as he shakes his head.
“Back off, big boy.” My warning is feeble, laughter catching in my throat, towel cocked and ready to flick. In an instant he is upon me.
“I warned you, little girl,” he growls in a deep rumble as he snatches the towel from my grasp. Before I can dodge the inevitable, he whips me sharply on the hip with a stinging bite.
“You pig!” I gasp, shocked and rubbing my poor hip. ‘Pig’ was apparently an ill choice of names. He whips once more, the tightly wound towel catching my bare knee.
“Say you’re sorry,” he demands unreasonably.
“Never,” I reply but as he re-arms the towel I reconsider, my lips pushed out in a girly pout. “I’m very sorry.” Dropping the towel onto the floor he gathers me into his arms and hugs me tightly. It feels so heavenly and so right, to be in his embrace once more. “I’ve missed you, you annoying, arrogant, sexy man.”
“As I have missed you, my petulant, wilful, beautiful girl. We need to talk. Right now isn’t the time, though. We’re neglecting Bella.” He’s right of course. Always so irritatingly right.
Bella’s friends arrive as Ruth and I wash the lunch dishes. The house quickly degenerates to a noisy babble of colourful young women. Ruth and I exchange glances and roll our eyes as they chat animatedly in the kitchen about boys, music, and make-up as Sebastian pours champagne into my pitiful selection of mismatched glasses. He’s generously brought six bottles of his finest from the cellar at Penmorrow. I suspect my daughter will have a serious hang-over tomorrow. When the glasses are filled, Sebastian puts the lunch dishes away and the girls retreat to Bella’s room, clutching three more champagne bottles. Silence prevails once more.
“I’m going to head back to Cornwall,” he announces.
“Already?” The disappointment must be evident in my voice. “I thought we’d have that talk.”
Sighing deeply, Sebastian indicates for me to follow him to the lounge. Once there, he closes the door. The atmosphere is tense between us. Sebastian sits in Alan’s chair and indicates for me to sit on the sofa. Such distance between us tightens the knot in my stomach. Didn’t we just get us past this distance? “Okay. Talk,” he says nonchalantly.
“All right.” My back is ramrod straight as I lock my eyes on his. His mood is difficult to read, his eyes dark and hooded. “We love each other, that’s clear.” He nods in agreement, and the relief I feel is palpable. “The recurring issue between us is Scarlett.”
He lets out a deep sigh. “You’ve been diagnosed with depression, Elizabeth. How is that Scarlett’s fault?”
Damn it. We go round in a perpetual circle because of that woman. Trying to quash the impulse to berate her, which will get us nowhere, I draw on my inner strength and maintain my poise. “I’m not saying everything’s her fault, Sebastian. What I’m saying is that it won’t work—we won’t work—if she remains at Penmorrow. It’s a simple choice. She goes or you lose me.”
“I won’t lose you. You and Bella are all I have.” He rakes a hand through his dishevelled hair, his jaw tense. “You’re mine, Elizabeth, but—”
“But what, Sebastian? But you won’t give her up? Is that what you’re saying? I’m yours but she’s yours too?”
The lounge door opens. My questions hang in the air. Ruth peers round the door, intuitively sensing the tension and blushes at her intrusion. “Sorry to interrupt but Bella and her friends are heading into town. I thought you’d want to say goodbye.”
“I thought they weren’t going out until tonight,” I query. The raucous gaggle of girls gather in the hall, collecting bags and fighting for the mirror by the front door to reapply lip gloss. “You can’t leave until we’ve done the cake.”
In the kitchen, I hastily light the eighteen candles on Bella’s chocolate frosted cake. It’s her favourite and a firm family tradition since the children were small. The candles glow as I begin singing, quickly joined by everyone else, Bella squealing with delight.
With two deep breaths, Bella puffs out the candles to a loud cheer and joyful clapping. The cake is devoured. Apparently the girls aren’t watching their weight, and the merry party again prepare to leave. Sebastian hugs Bella affectionately.
“Be careful, princess, and have a marvelous time.” He slips a fifty-pound note in her hand. “Don’t buy shots with this, okay?” He cautions, his frown barely masking his love for her. “It’s for a taxi home. I need to know you are safe. Understood?”
“Understood, boss man.” Bella giggles. “Thanks, Seb, you’re so cool.”
Seb? He’d never let me get away with calling him Seb. Bella hugs and kisses Ruth and me, her friends follow suit, and then moments later they leave, tottering down the road in their impossibly high heels, in search of a bus.
Ruth makes a lame excuse about needing milk and leaves Sebastian and I alone in the now tranquil house. Sitting in the lounge, in the same seats as previously, the awkwardness returns.
“Where did we get to?” My question is futile. Sebastian’s aware of what we were discussing but looks reticent to pick up the topic of Scarlett. Instead he avoids my gaze, preferring to focus on an invisible piece of thread on the hem of his shirt, which he’s fussing with. “I’ll remind you.” I sigh, hating that I must raise the subject again. “You were going to explain why you won’t get rid of Scarlett, when I’ve made it clear it’s untenable for me to return while she’s at Penmorrow.”
Laying his hands in his lap, he finally lifts his gaze to meet mine. He looks so weary and worn down. The sparkle in his dark chocolate eyes has fizzled out. When he speaks, his voice is low and gravelly. “You’ve made your position clear. I know what I have to do to get you back. You will give me time, though. I will not be dictated to by you, or manipulated, do you understand?” Tilting his rugged chin toward me and pulling back his masculine shoulders, his body language relays a commanding stance; it tells me this is not a man to push any further. He’s wound as tightly as a spring and even I know when to back down.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I understand. How much time do you think you need?” Shit, Beth, you just can’t help pushing.
“I will be the judge of that, Elizabeth. I will call you and let you know when she’s gone. The topic is closed to any further discussion.” The firm set of his jaw and steely resolve in his eyes are intimidating so it is definitely not wise to push further. My funny, complex, sexy Sebastian is not to be underestimated. He has a dark, edgy facet to his character that has shown itself before. “I’m going to head b
ack to Cornwall now. I’ll be in touch.”
“You’re leaving me?” My mouth is laced with the acrid taste of panic, my voice croaky and pathetic but he’s standing and certainly looks intent on departing. “Won’t you stay with me tonight? Please?” Damn him, he’s making me beg but I need him so fiercely. I need him to reclaim me as his, to take me brutally until I scream his name.
“No. I don’t think it’s wise. I love you, but I need some time. Lots to sort out.” Does he mean that there is a lot to sort out in connection with evicting that woman?
“Of course, I understand. I’ll wait for you to call me.” A lone tear trickles down my cheek. He’s noticed it but makes no attempt to wipe it tenderly away; that hurts. It’s as though he doesn’t care quite as much. “It was good of you to come. I know Bella really appreciates it.” The champagne comes to mind. “Would you like to take some champagne home with you?” I ask him. “I’m sure Bella and the girls won’t have drunk it all…at least I hope not!”
“Keep it. You and Ruth can have it tonight.”
Watching Sebastian drive away kills me. It’s as though a piece of my soul has gone. I have no idea when I will hear from him or be in his arms again, but I have to be thankful that he seems to finally be in agreement with getting rid of Scarlett once and for all. I’ve no proof as to what that evil woman did to my family—or to me—but I know just the way to find out.
Chapter 12
The police station is a drab grey 1960s unimaginatively constructed building. Situated on a busy arterial road, it wasn’t difficult to locate and thankfully there is a parking space available into which I pull, my hands trembling as the engine is cut. Without an appointment, it’s possible that DI Chambers won’t be available but this couldn’t wait. Impetuous as ever, I’d jumped straight in the car after Sebastian left—afraid that if I delayed perhaps I may change my mind.
“Can I help you, Miss?” The desk clerk is an aged man with a ruddy complexion and kind face, his pale blue uniform shirt lightly crumpled, his pen well-chewed.
