‘He saw the papers …’ It wasn’t a question.
‘Yes. Why didn’t you tell me?’
Sebastian raked a hand through his hair, exasperation evident. ‘I didn’t want you to be upset by it.’
‘Perhaps you didn’t want me to get any notions of permanency? You’re forgetting that I’m not the one with the issues surrounding this pregnancy, you are.’
She looked at the brochures she held in her hand again and then stalked to Sebastian, pushing them into his chest where he had to catch them or let them fall. ‘And it’s apparent now that you’re going to do your damnedest to get rid of all the evidence—shut your inconvenient ex-one-night stand away with her even more inconvenient baby.’
She walked past him to the door and turned back. ‘I won’t go to a place of your choosing like some pregnant concubine, Sebastian. I’d prefer to take my chances and return to India rather than endure that. And whether you like it or not, I’m going to your brother’s wedding. I want my child to know his or her family.’
Aneesa was shaking by the time she reached her bedroom. Trembling all over. Standing up to Sebastian’s rigid stance had been a lot harder than she’d thought, and still that awful hurt lanced her, right through her belly, to think that he would want to shut her and the baby away like that. And yet what else had she expected? Despair gripped her.
She was sitting on the window seat and looking out at the view, not really seeing it, just waiting for the inevitable sound of the front door slamming as it heralded Sebastian’s return to work and away from her. But it didn’t come. And when a knock sounded on her door, her nerves were so tightly wound that she jumped.
She stood to see the door open and Sebastian standing there, his tie ripped off, jacket gone and shirt open. And he looked so damned gorgeous that every bone in her body wanted to melt. But she stood firm with arms crossed, fully prepared to tell him that she was going to return to India after the wedding if he was going to insist that she move out.
‘Don’t you have work or a meeting or something?
I don’t want to be accused of disrupting your routine.’
Sebastian closed the door behind him and smiled grimly, making Aneesa’s heart thump unevenly. He rested against it and said without rancour, ‘I’ve cancelled my meeting, and my routine got disrupted the moment I first saw you in Mumbai.’
Hurt gripped Aneesa again. ‘Well, I’m sorry about that but—’
He put up a hand. ‘I’m not.’
And then he prowled towards her and she wished she could run but the window was at her back. Sebastian being cold and distant and prickly was one thing, but this more ambiguous Sebastian threatened every level of her already shaky equilibrium.
He stood before her, close enough to touch but not touching, eyes raking her face. Resting on her mouth with indecent explicitness before climbing upwards again where their heat nearly made her wobble.
He growled out, ‘You’re a thorn in my side, Aneesa Adani, but a thorn I’m finding impossible to ignore, no matter how much I try.
‘I admit that I had thought of offering you a place of your own to live, ostensibly to get out you out of my apartment … but every time I try and push you away I find myself pulling you in again. I can’t have you near me and yet I can’t stand the thought of you not being here….’
Aneesa’s heart thumped crazily now. ‘That sounds messy.’
Sebastian grimaced. ‘It is. Very. Especially when my life up to now has been very clear and controlled.’
His eyes held her mesmerised. ‘I told you that I would take more time out for you and the baby and then I promptly went back on my word. I’m sorry.’
He came closer then and Aneesa found it hard to breathe, her gaze slipping to his mouth. His hands went to her waist, pulling her into him, and she could feel his arousal, her own body rejoicing helplessly, despite all the turmoil in her head.
Valiantly though, she stayed rigid in his arms. She put her hands on his chest and tried to ignore the treacherous melting in her groin. ‘Sebastian, you can’t keep doing this, pulling me in, only to push me away again. It’s not fair.’
‘I know,’ he said quietly. ‘I don’t think I have the strength to push you away again.’
He sighed heavily and she felt his chest move against her hands. A slither of foreboding went down her spine. ‘But, Aneesa, I also can’t promise you a happy ever after. There are dark secrets in my family, bad things happened. It’s a long legacy of hurt and pain. And the last thing I want to do is visit that on my own child.’
Everything in her rejected that assertion. ‘But you wouldn’t—’
Sebastian put a finger over her mouth, stopping her words. ‘After everything I witnessed, I won’t commit just for the sake of propriety. My father wreaked havoc with his inconsistency and I can’t promise to be any better.’
An aching sadness welled inside Aneesa even though she appreciated his candour. He was basically saying his feelings for her weren’t strong enough to risk overcoming his fears. And was she strong enough to weather his stubbornness? To try and make him see that history didn’t have to repeat itself? What was the point if he didn’t even have feelings for her beyond physical desire?
And then as if he’d heard her thoughts, he said heavily, ‘If you want to return home, then I won’t stop you, and of course I’ll come to visit when the baby is due. But if you decide to stay in England, here with me … you have to know that I can’t promise anything more than I’ve already given.’
Aneesa quelled the urge to cry at Sebastian’s searing honesty. He was offering her a no-win situation and only an extreme masochist would take the option she was about to. ‘I can’t go home yet, especially if the news has broken there as to who the father is. I should call my parents.’ Her eyes lifted from where they’d rested on a button on his shirt. ‘So I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for now.’
‘Are you sure about this, Aneesa?’
She nodded her head because, at that moment, she wasn’t sure at all but she knew that the thought of walking away from him was far harder to contemplate than the alternative.
‘Well, then, after you’ve called your parents we’ve got shopping to do.’
She frowned. ‘Shopping?’
Sebastian’s jaw clenched. ‘If you’re determined to go to this wedding, then you’re not going on your own.’
Aneesa held in a stunned gasp and damped down a spark of hope. Sebastian was saying one thing, but his actions were saying something else, and despite her head sending out warning bells, her heart couldn’t help but give a little lurch of treacherous hope. Grimly she answered, ‘I’m determined.’
Sebastian sighed. ‘In that case, I need to get a suit and you need to get a wedding outfit.’
Aneesa was not like any woman Sebastian had ever known. She was brave: brave enough to deal with the collapse of a successful career, to deal with ostracism and cross the other side of the world to face up to a huge personal crisis. And yet her eyes had filled with tears only that afternoon when they’d witnessed a harried mother clipping her small son around the ear on the street with enough violence to make him squeal with genuine pain. Afterwards Aneesa had apologised to Sebastian and said, ‘I’m sorry—it must be my hormones.’
But it had made Sebastian feel even more strongly about his reasons not to commit. When he’d seen the child being brutalised on the street, he’d just felt sympathy for him, but not shock. And it was that sense of being anaesthetised that scared him.
He’d grown up learning to duck from his father’s loose fists. He’d invariably been protected by one of his brothers and witnessed them getting a dose of physical violence, but none more so shocking than his beautiful older sister, Annabelle, the day their father had whipped her mercilessly, leaving her with permanent scars. He’d been too small to step in and help her and that sense of ineffectualness had stuck with him, heightening his sense of isolation. And his sense of fear that perhaps he couldn’t protect his ow
n child.
When they’d bought his suit for the wedding, he’d led Aneesa to a well-known designer shop on Bond Street, but on the threshold she’d pulled back and he’d looked down to see her face, puce with embarrassment. He’d frowned. He would have thought she’d have been running in, eager to indulge. But when she’d refused to budge she’d finally admitted, ‘I don’t have enough money to pay for a dress here. Let’s go somewhere else. Please.’
And gruffly, he’d assured her that he’d intended to pay for her outfit, but still, she hadn’t budged until he’d promised to let her pay him back.
She’d been quick and economical, settling on a knee-length champagne-coloured dress that had swirled around her like a diaphanous cloud, with a clever empire line to disguise her swelling belly. And a short gold blazer jacket to go over it.
When he’d seen her emerge from the changing room and how much delectable silky olive-skinned cleavage was revealed in the dress, he’d had to bite back the urge to insist on a less revealing dress. But she’d looked so shyly pleased that he hadn’t had the heart to say anything.
It was only when they’d been headed back to the apartment that he’d realised how much he’d genuinely enjoyed the afternoon when he normally abhorred shopping, and how little he’d been thinking of the upcoming wedding. Especially when he’d made a vow not to see his brother Jacob ever again. But right now, with Aneesa by his side, the prospect wasn’t half as daunting as he would have imagined.
On the morning of Nathaniel’s wedding, Aneesa woke up and rolled over in the bed. Lying on her back, looking at the ceiling, she didn’t need to feel the bed beside her to know that Sebastian hadn’t joined her last night.
He’d been out indulging in his punishing exercise regime again, swimming or punching a bag, or running—she didn’t know which. His rising tension as they’d approached the wedding had had a direct effect on Aneesa, to the point where his pacing in the living room last night had irritated her so much that she’d announced that his hair was too long and had made him sit down in the bathroom so she could give him a haircut.
He’d sat as meekly as a child while she’d moved around him, cutting his hair short, the way it had been when she’d first met him. When she was almost finished, he’d asked her gruffly, ‘Where did you learn to do this?’
‘My mother always cuts my father’s hair. She taught me years ago.’
Their eyes had met in the bathroom mirror and she’d said drily but with a pain in her heart, ‘It’s just a haircut, Sebastian, don’t worry. I’m not binding you to me for ever with some mystical Indian ceremony.’
But the truth was, she had found it more than a little erotic and all too easy to indulge in a fantasy of things being different. She’d never known what an intimate thing it was to cut someone’s hair; perhaps it was because the other person was somewhat vulnerable. She’d always felt a little like a voyeur when she’d watched her mother tend to her father like that.
But afterwards Sebastian had got up and said an abrupt thanks and had all but run out, leaving Aneesa standing there holding the scissors, surrounded by hair. She’d felt like calling after him for a tip.
What she didn’t know was that Sebastian had gone straight to his study where he’d poured himself a generous measure of whisky and downed it in one gulp. His hands hadn’t been steady, the experience of having his hair cut by her affecting him more profoundly than he liked to admit.
Handing himself over to Aneesa like that—having her caress his head, push it forward, tilt it back and to the side … running her fingers through his hair to judge where to cut, massaging his scalp … feeling the tantalising brush of her breast against his body—it had been all he could do to just sit there and not yank her round to sit on his lap and sate the fire burning in his loins.
Since when was getting a haircut erotic? And yet at the same time deliciously soporific? For the first time in a couple of days, since he’d decided to go to the wedding, she’d once again managed to distract him and shut out the clamour in his head … and he hated the feeling of vulnerability that gave him. The sense that, on some level, he needed her.
The elusive lure of losing himself in hard-core exercise had come to his rescue for the first time in days and he’d escaped to the pool where he’d swum himself to a point of exhaustion, finally falling asleep on a lounger by the pool as dawn broke outside.
Sebastian had told Aneesa that they would stay at his hotel the night of the wedding, so she’d prepared a small overnight bag, and when she emerged to the main reception area of the apartment there were butterflies in her belly to see the back of the tall, impossibly broad-shouldered figure of Sebastian in a steel-grey morning suit.
He’d been talking to Nathaniel on the phone and had agreed to be his groomsman. Apparently Nathaniel hadn’t wanted a best man, and they were eschewing the traditional pomp and speeches for an informal late lunch after the ceremony. Sebastian turned around slowly now, increasing the butterflies in Aneesa’s belly, and then she wondered if she was feeling the baby move for the first time?
But when his eyes hungrily took her in she forgot everything under his intense gaze. He’d seen the dress in the shop already, surely he liked it? She suddenly felt very insecure.
‘Is it OK? It’s not too short?’ She pulled ineffectually at the dress and jacket.
‘No,’ Sebastian said curtly. ‘It’s fine.’
It was more than fine; she was quite simply the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. A vision in gold and soft champagne. Her skin was glowing. Her long black hair was down and she’d teased it into sleek movie-star waves. And her feet were encased in vertiginous gold sandals that drew the eye to her slender but stupendously shapely legs.
He frowned. ‘Can you walk in those?’
She stuck one leg out and he had to bite back a groan. ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said breezily. ‘One thing the movies and being a beauty queen has taught me is how to stand around for hours in high heels.’
He held out a hand. ‘We’d better get going—’ he smiled grimly ‘—wouldn’t want to be late, now, would we?’
She came forward with a determined glint in her eye and took his hand, making his chest lurch. ‘No, we wouldn’t.’
The marriage ceremony was taking place in the small Unitarian church just beside the Grand Wolfe Hotel, which was huge and impressive—exuding a classic timelessness that Aneesa could recognise was Sebastian’s trademark signature style.
Aneesa stood on her own for much of the service as Sebastian stood alongside his brother. She recognised famous Hollywood actor Nathaniel, of course; his hair was dark like Sebastian’s but longer. When he’d turned to greet Sebastian the two men had just looked at each other for a long intense moment before hugging fiercely. And with awful predictability emotional tears had pricked Aneesa’s eyes.
Nathaniel’s bride, Katie, was stunning in a beautiful long ivory gown with antique diamante details just below her bust and at the shoulders of the straps of the dress, showing off her slender willowy frame. A mass of brown curls was drawn up and away from her face, highlighting a long neck and the most amazing green eyes Aneesa had ever seen.
Aneesa had spotted who she assumed to be Sebastian’s other brothers ahead of her by a few pews. They all cut tall intimidating figures. One she guessed had to be Jacob, as he looked the most austere. She’d caught a glimpse of his dark eyes when he’d turned to watch the bride walk down the aisle, and they’d been intense.
In the flurry of activity once the ceremony was over, Aneesa was surprised when Sebastian reached for her hand and pulled her from the pew so that she could walk with him up the aisle. She felt the fierceness of his grip and squeezed his hand silently, telling him that she understood, touched by his obvious desire to have her by his side. Once again that dangerous tendril of hope unfurled inside her and she had to dampen it down.
There were paparazzi everywhere outside, like a baying mob, being held back by a cordon of security men. But Sebastian ha
d them whisked inside the hotel in minutes, and after checking with his manager that everything was running smoothly, they made their way to the main reception room.
Sebastian first introduced Aneesa to his sister, Annabelle, who Aneesa realised had been the photographer in the church and outside. She was beautiful—tall and slim, dressed with impeccably smart taste, with long wavy blond hair and grey eyes which swirled with emotion. Instinctively Aneesa guessed Annabelle wouldn’t want people to see that and felt a small bond form between them, and was touched when Annabelle congratulated them on the pregnancy.
And then in no particular order she was introduced to the happy couple, who only had eyes for each other, and two other brothers, Lucas and Rafael, who’d been polite and inquisitive. Lucas’s girlfriend, Grace, had been there also, tall with blond hair. Rafael, however, had shown that sparky Wolfe trait she was coming to know so well when Sebastian had asked after his wife, Leila. Rafael’s black eyes had flashed warningly as he’d issued a curtly succinct, ‘She couldn’t make it.’
An enigmatic look had passed between Sebastian and Lucas.
Through it all Sebastian had his arm clamped around Aneesa’s waist and her face was starting to hurt from smiling so much. And then she felt him tense rigidly. She followed his gaze to see a man approach them, the man she’d guessed was Jacob in the church. Tall with thick black hair, dark eyes like Rafael. And a grimly determined look on his face. Aneesa could feel Sebastian’s urge to turn and walk away and she silently willed him to stay. He did.
But as the two tall men squared up to each other the lengthening silence became unbearable. Aneesa might have been invisible for all the attention either man gave her, and then abruptly Sebastian issued a tortured sounding, ‘I can’t do this.’ And letting Aneesa go, he strode away and out of the reception room.
Bad Blood Collection Page 45
