by Susanna Carr
“Why? Is there a special occasion?”
“No, my family has these get-togethers all the time.” And he worked hard to be there for his family. He didn’t just write a check for his relatives—he was present for every important moment of their lives.
“Is there anything I should know about your family?” she asked.
“Do not introduce yourself as my mistress,” he ordered.
She clucked her tongue. “Do you think I wear that label as a badge of honor?”
“You made it clear in Jamaica that you are my woman.” He reached for her hand and laced his fingers with hers. “I didn’t have to make a claim. You wore that status with pride.”
“That was before you introduced me as your mistress,” she said as the anger tightened her soft features. “I thought we actually made a good team until you warned off Salazar. Then you had to mark your territory. So how am I supposed to define this relationship?”
He was not going to introduce Ashley as his lover or girlfriend. That gave her privileges she didn’t deserve. The reason he made Ashley his mistress was to knock down the status she never worked hard to earn. “You won’t need to.”
“Are you serious?” She tugged at his hand but he didn’t let go. “Didn’t you tell me you had sisters?”
“Yes, four of them.”
“And how often have you brought a woman home to meet the family?” she asked brightly.
He exhaled sharply. “I haven’t.”
“You are in for an inquisition.” Ashley smiled broadly as she imagined the treatment he would receive.
Or she was dreaming up ways to make his life miserable. He could send Ashley back to his penthouse apartment while he went to visit his family, but he didn’t like that idea. He wanted Ashley there with him, but it was a risk. “Cause any trouble and you will regret it.”
She flattened her hand against her chest. “Me? I won’t have to say a word. I’ll just cling to your arm and bat my lashes like a good little mistress.”
“Ashley,” he warned.
“At least tell me why we need to visit your family. Isn’t your mother recuperating?”
He gave her an assessing glance. “How do you know about that?”
“What? Was it a secret? You said something about it at the opening of your club. I’ve often heard you talk to your mother on the phone.”
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t realize you knew Spanish.” How much had she heard in his conversations? Did she also catch the endearments he whispered when they were in bed? He had to be more careful.
“I’m not fluent,” she said. “I don’t know anything about your mother’s condition.”
“She’s recovering from heart surgery,” he explained. “There had been a point when we didn’t think she was going to make it. My mother made a dying request and we called the priest.”
Ashley squeezed his hand in silent sympathy. “I won’t do anything to upset her. I promise.”
“Thank you.” Sebastian realized how he was gripping her hand as if it was a lifeline. He reluctantly let go. “I don’t want you to discuss our relationship with anyone in my family. Don’t mention Inez Key. In fact, don’t give any personal information.”
“Should I pick an assumed name?” she asked wryly.
“Ashley Jones should be fine.” It was a common name. His family wouldn’t make the connection.
“Okay,” she said with a shrug. “If that’s what you want.”
Her quick agreement made him suspicious. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing. I’ll just keep the conversation all about you.” She rubbed her hands with exaggerated glee. “I can’t wait to learn all your secrets.”
Dread seized his lungs until he remembered that there was an unspoken agreement with his family on some topics that were forbidden to discuss. “Good luck with that,” he said with icy calm. “I don’t have any.”
Ashley made a face. “Everyone has secrets.”
“You don’t anymore,” he said. “I uncovered them all when I took you to bed.”
“You are so hung up on being my first,” she muttered. Ashley looked flustered and shy. “If I knew that my virginity would have been so important to you...”
Sebastian stepped in front of her, blocking her from turning away. “What would you have done?” he asked. She had not been above using her virginity with Raymond Casillas to get what she wanted. “Keep away from me until I begged? Waited for a wedding ring on your finger?”
“No!” she said, staring at him with wide eyes. “I would have told you.”
Would it have been that simple? Could their first night have been about two people giving in to a fiery attraction? “Why didn’t you?”
“I didn’t want you to know how inexperienced I was,” she confessed as a ruddy color streaked her high cheekbones. “It would have given you the upper hand.”
He always had the advantage even with the most experienced women. Although there had been some nights with Ashley when he wasn’t sure who was seducing whom. She had gradually begun to realize the depths of his excitement when she made the first move. She was beginning to tap into the sexual power she held over him. He should hide his responses, or at least take over when she became too daring, but he didn’t want to.
“You had nothing to worry about, mi vida. You’re a very sensual woman.” He noticed how his compliment horrified her. “I’m surprised you abstained for as long as you did. Why did you wait?”
“Lack of opportunity?” she hazarded a guess.
She was not telling him the truth. Not the whole truth. “That’s not it at all,” he said gently. “Men would subject themselves to Herculean tasks if it meant a chance for one night with you.”
“Every man but you,” she muttered. “You just had to snap your fingers and I was there.”
“Why did you wait?” he repeated. What he really wanted to ask was, Why did you choose me?
“If you saw the house I was raised in you would understand.” She crossed her arms and looked at the ocean, unable to meet his eyes. “My mother was a mistress. A sexual plaything for my father. My father was a womanizer. He was worse than his friends. The things I saw...heard. I didn’t want to be a part of that.”
Sebastian felt a sharp arrow of guilt. Shame. He was beginning to think he had made a mistake when he’d claimed Ashley as his mistress. He thought she didn’t like the drop in status. Instead, he had made her the one thing she swore she would never be.
“And yet you slept with me.” It didn’t add up. Did she sleep with him so she could stop Raymond Casillas from calling in her debt? “According to you, I’m just like your father.”
“I thought you were,” she said quietly before she walked away. “I’m not so sure anymore.”
* * *
The next evening, Ashley was on a luxurious patio that overlooked a private beach as she watched the sunset with Sebastian’s mother. A group of children were playing in the sand. Music drifted from the open windows of the Cruz mansion and Ashley heard Sebastian’s sisters bicker while they prepared the dinner table.
“Why is this the first I’ve heard of you?” Patricia Cruz asked as she intently studied Ashley.
Ashley hid her smile. She had a feeling that Sebastian took from his mother’s side in temperament. “I don’t know what to tell you, Mrs. Cruz. Perhaps you should ask Sebastian.”
She gave a throaty chuckle. “He’s not very forthcoming.”
Neither was his mother. The older woman wasn’t a tiny and weathered woman who favored housedresses and heavy shawls. This woman was tall and regal. Her elegant gray shift dress highlighted her short silver hair and tanned skin.
Patricia Esteban Cruz was polite but wary. She had expected Sebastian’s family and home to be just as guarded. When Ash
ley had seen the iron gates open to the Cruz’s beachfront mansion, panic had curled around her chest. She had looked out the window and saw a forest of palm trees flanking the long driveway.
Ashley had tried not to gasp when she spotted the villa at the end of the winding lane. The home was unlike anything she had seen. She had expected the Cruz mansion to be a dramatic and modern house. A fortress. But this was gracious and traditional with its terra-cotta rooftops and soft white exterior. Ashley was used to high society but this was another level. It was a reminder of Sebastian’s power and influence.
“His sisters, however, are very warm and open,” Ashley said. They had easily welcomed her. Sebastian’s siblings were boisterous and inquisitive, but they had made Ashley feel as if she belonged.
And they had no reservations talking about Sebastian. At first it had been a trickle of information and it quickly became a flood of memories. The anecdotes and stories all described Sebastian as curious, volatile and too smart for his own good. He had been a lot of trouble, but everyone spoke about him with pride, love and exasperation.
“Yes, they didn’t have as hard of a time as Sebastian,” she said with a heavy sigh. “When my husband died, Sebastian became the head of the family. He was only a boy. Not even fifteen.”
There was a fine tremor in the woman’s fingers and Ashley noticed the gray pallor underneath the woman’s skin. It was clear Patricia was still fragile from her surgery. “Sebastian doesn’t talk about that time in his life. Or his father.”
“He lives with the constant reminder,” the older woman said. “He looks just like his father. My husband was very much a traditional man. Proud and artistic.”
“Your husband was an artist?” Ashley asked.
She nodded. “He was a painter. Watercolors. He wasn’t famous, but he was very respected in the art world. Some of his landscapes can be found here in my home.” Patricia’s eyes grew sad. “He stopped painting when we moved to the ghetto. He was working two jobs and feeding a growing family.”
This was why Sebastian scoffed at the way she made a living. She may repair and maintain Inez Key, but she never had to do hard labor. She didn’t know the strain of having a family depend on her.
“Which of your children inherited your husband’s artistic talent?” From what she could tell, all of the Cruz daughters were brilliant, successful and creative.
“Mmm, that would be Sebastian.”
“Really?” Sebastian thrived in the cutthroat business world. She hadn’t seen any indication that he had an artistic side.
“You should have seen the work he did at school,” Patricia said with a hint of pride. “His teachers encouraged him to find classes outside of school. If only we had the money. But Sebastian told he me didn’t have the inclination to pursue it.”
Ashley imagined Sebastian saying that with a dismissive wave of his hand. But she wondered if Sebastian didn’t choose the arts because he had to be sensible. He would have known it would have been a financial strain for the family and he acted disinterested to protect his mother’s feelings.
“Well, if there’s one thing I’ve noticed about Sebastian,” Ashley said brightly, “he can do anything he puts his mind to. If he had wanted to be an artist, he would have been.”
“And what is it that you do, Ashley?” Sebastian’s mother asked. “You’re twenty-three? I’m sure you have found your passion by now.”
Ashley knew it was another attempt to learn about her past. She wasn’t willing to share, and not just because of Sebastian’s request. It was unlikely that she would meet Patricia Esteban Cruz again, but she didn’t want to be judged by her parentage.
“I’m still trying to figure that out,” Ashley carefully replied. “What did you want to be when you were twenty-three?”
“Home.” Patricia had a faraway look in her eyes. “I wanted to be home, safe and sound with my babies while my husband was happily painting pictures of sunsets and nighthawks.”
Nighthawks? Ashley frowned. Those birds were indigenous to the keys. She hadn’t realized they were up here on the mainland.
Ashley turned sharply when she heard the piercing squeal of a child’s laughter. She saw Sebastian, sexy and casual in a T-shirt and jeans, at the edge of the beach. The water lapped at his bare feet as he held one of his nephews in his strong hands.
“More, Tio Sebastian! More!” the little boy shrieked as Sebastian tossed him high in the air before catching him. One of his nieces clung to Sebastian’s legs with her thumb firmly planted in her mouth. Ashley noticed the toddler had attached herself to her tio Sebastian the moment they had arrived.
“Ah, my grandchildren are precious to me, but they wear me out,” Patricia confessed as she watched the trio on the beach. “Sebastian is so patient with them. Gives each of his nieces and nephews extra attention. If only he was so patient with his sisters.”
“He’s very good with children.” She remembered how gentle he had been with Clea’s granddaughters on Inez Key. Ashley had been concerned Sebastian would be like most of her paying guests who didn’t want to hear or see children on the island. She recalled how he had found them playing on the beach one day and when he had approached them, Ashley’s first thought had been to protect them. Ashley thought the girls would have been scared or intimidated by Sebastian. But he had surprised her when he had crouched down in front of the curious children and got down to their level.
A smile tugged on Ashley’s mouth as she remembered that hot and humid morning. The scene had been so incongruous with Sebastian’s dark head next to Lizet and Matil, who wore silly hats to protect them from the sun. He had given the girls his full attention, speaking in a low voice as he praised their efforts in building a sand castle.
The children immediately adored him, with Lizet shyly offering her battered pink bucket while Matil danced excitedly around them. Ashley had quietly watched as Sebastian had played with the children. She had been amazed by the gentleness and patience he had displayed.
“He would make a good father,” Patricia declared.
Ashley wanted to reject that idea. Sebastian was a playboy. A good father would be sweet and tender. A family man. He wouldn’t be someone like her father who would destroy a family in his pursuit to have sex with many women.
But Sebastian wasn’t like Donald Jones, Ashley realized with a start. Sebastian cared about his family. Family was his haven, not his burden. He honored his commitments and was willing to put his family’s needs before his. And he would protect his loved ones instead of overpowering them.
Ashley knew she would be included if she was carrying his baby. She closed her eyes and imagined Sebastian holding her close as his fingers splayed against her swollen stomach. His touch would be gentle and possessive. He would not allow anything to happen to them as a family. As a couple.
“Do you think differently?” Patricia asked, jarring Ashley from her musings. “Do you think Sebastian would make a bad father?”
“He would be the father any child would hope for,” Ashley said slowly as she thought about how Sebastian embodied everything she hoped for in a man, a husband, and yet he was also everything she feared. “But I don’t think he has the inclination to become one.”
“That’s what I’m worried about. Sebastian had to look after his sisters at such a young age. He may not want to do it again. But that man should have a wife. Children of his own.”
“Carry on the Cruz name?” Ashley added as she absently rubbed her flat stomach. She wanted Sebastian’s child. More than one. She wanted to create a large family filled with sons and daughters that had the same dark hair, stubbornness and strength as their father. Most of all, she wanted to see those children bring out Sebastian’s fierce paternal side.
“Exactly.” Patricia smacked her armrest with her hand like a judge would bang a gavel. “He should marry.”
&n
bsp; Don’t look at me. Ashley gritted her teeth before the words tumbled off her tongue. Men didn’t marry their mistresses. She had it on good authority. Her mother had tried every trick for twenty years to make Donald her husband.
Donald and Linda may have shared a past and a child, but they never shared a family name. Donald had given his surname to Ashley, but she had never understood why. Why had she been considered good enough for the Jones name and not her mother?
But Sebastian was different, Ashley thought as she watched him set down his nephew and hoist his small niece into his arms. He would marry her if she was carrying his child. She longed for a traditional family but not like this. If she was pregnant with his baby, she would have some tough decisions to make. She had been tolerated in her father’s home, part of a package deal. Ashley wasn’t going to go through that again.
* * *
Later that night, Sebastian stepped out of the bathroom and into the guest bedroom. The steam from his shower curled around him as he slung a towel low around his waist. His heart beat against his ribs as he anticipated having Ashley all to himself.
He stopped in the middle of the room when he noticed Ashley wasn’t in the large bed waiting for him. She wasn’t in the sitting area or at the desk. Sebastian turned and saw Ashley standing at the long open window, the gauzy curtains billowing against her.
Desire slammed through him as he noticed how the silk slip skimmed against her gentle curves. The dark pink accentuated her sun-kissed skin and the short hem barely reached her thighs. He was tempted to pull the delicate shoulder straps until they broke and watch the silk tumble to the floor.
It took him a moment to notice that Ashley was waving at someone outside. “Who are you waving to?” he asked gruffly. As much as he enjoyed the sight, he was prepared to cloak her with something heavy. He should be the only one who saw her like this.
“Your sister Ana Sofia and her husband,” she responded without looking at him. “Apparently, they take a moonlight stroll along the beach every night.”
“I’m sure that’s real romantic when it’s pouring down rain.” He refused to hear the catch in her throat. “You and Ana Sofia were thick as thieves tonight.”
