“Sebastian…” Her voice wavers and concern crawls across her face, an unwanted emotion he intends to erase.
“Stop.” His command is low, throaty and as raw as his desire.
She opens her mouth to say more, but he expects the reaction and closes his lips around hers. The kiss belongs to him now. Behind them, the sun makes its final gasp before slipping beneath the waves. A chill creeps into the air as the ceaseless marching of time ushers in the night. He wants more. Is hungry for something carnal and raw, but she’s not ready. Already she’s pulling back. He releases her and steadies her on her feet.
“You kissed me,” he says.
“I did.” Her cheeks pink up and she casts her gaze over the horizon to where the last glow of the faded sun lights up the sky. “Do I get a wish now?”
He stands beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her to his side. “No wishes. You get those when you wish upon a shooting star, but you are blessed now.”
“Hmm.” She leans her head against his shoulder. “I guess that’s true. I met you.”
21
Holly
Holly leans against Sebastian. Heart hammering, she can’t believe she kissed him, and after she made him promise not to kiss her. What was she thinking? If he touches her, the last of her resistance will fall. A hot breath whispers down her neck, followed by the tender brush of his lips. Her will crumbles beneath the onslaught.
“You’re not what I expected,” he says, voice low and husky with unspent need.
His lips blaze a burning trail down her neck and his hand runs through her hair, tangling in the long lengths. The press of his mouth on her neck comes with a relentless hunger. Sliding his hand around her waist, he pulls her close. The kisses move to her shoulder then he works back to her neck, travels along the sweep of her jaw, and finally claims her lips.
All thought stops.
There’s only one desire, one wish, and it’s clear it’s just a matter of time before the inevitable happens. She’s falling for him, and with that comes other things. Her attempts to be indifferent to a man with an ego as large as his fail. He knows the power he holds over her as she leans in desperate for more.
His hand at her nape sends shivers racing down her spine, and low moans spill from her lips. His lean body presses against her, filling her with warmth and heating her from the inside out. She feels him, every hardened plane of muscle, the power surging within his frame, and the firmness of his widened stance which supports them both.
Their lips press together, then he releases her hair and cups her face, taking full control of the kiss. That one act is her undoing. Painful memories trigger and she pushes against his chest to increase the space between them. She can’t breathe and struggles to find her balance as the pier sways beneath her feet.
The pier’s not moving. It’s rock steady, but she’s not. She’s overwhelmed.
Sebastian ends the kiss. “Holly?” He holds her in his gaze as she struggles, then his hands fall from her cheeks. She staggers back and presses her fingers to her lips. The warmth of his kiss remains and the sultry taste of him lingers on her tongue. “Are you okay?”
She’s dizzy and searching the horizon for a point of reference, but doesn’t dare tell him the truth. There’s no reason to ruin the evening.
“I’m good.” Except she’s anything but good. “Wow, that was unexpected.” It was that and more, and exactly what she doesn’t need. She backs away, desperate to lock away the bad memories clawing their way to the surface and focuses instead on the handsome man standing before her.
“I’ll say.” He rocks back on his heels, looking pleased with himself. “You surprised me, in the best way possible, especially since I promised not to kiss you.”
Heat fills her face. “I wasn’t exactly expecting that either.”
He reaches for her hand, interlocking their fingers. “It’s a great start to our night.”
She expects him to kiss her again and grope her body. Instead, he leads her away.
“You hungry?”
“Famished.”
“Dinner is about an hour away, but if you need a snack, I hear the cotton candy is really good.”
“Good to know, but I can wait. Aren’t we eating here?” She looks around, wondering what’s on his mind.
“Not here. We have to drive.”
“Did you bring me here just for this?” She makes a sweeping gesture toward the horizon. Deep curtains of blue and purple sweep away the fading light of the sunset.
“It’s one of my favorite things. I love sunsets.”
“Is this on Carter’s list?”
“I have to say this is the best sunset in twenty years.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Sunset. Dinner…”
“Wait, let me guess.” She’s remembering what he said. “Wish on a shooting star?”
He gives a nod. “That’s the last thing on his list.”
“You do this every year?”
“Like clockwork.”
“What if it’s raining?”
He shrugs. “It’s the spirit of the list.”
“I would have liked your brother.”
“He was a really great kid.”
Her heart stutters with the reality of what he says. Carter will always be an innocent kid to him. Sebastian may have grown into a powerful man, but his brother never would. He tugs her back down the long pier. The warmth of his hand comforts her and fits in hers perfectly. A few minutes later, they’re back in the town car and it’s pulling away from the beach.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“You and your surprises…” But she’s not ruining the plans he’s made. He seems to be having fun keeping her on her toes and she’s willing to play along.
They spend the ride in relative silence, speaking about inconsequential things. They steer clear of anything to do with his band, although she’s dying to ask all the questions churning in her head. They both grew up in Santa Barbara. Although she’s several years younger than him, they hung out at the same places. Stories of their youth pass the time as it grows pitch black outside.
They travel out of town and turn down a long drive. She leans forward to peer out the window, but sees only blackness.
“You’re not going to see until we get there. I have it all planned.”
“When?”
“When did I plan it?”
“Yes.”
They have been together since meeting on the trail. There’s no way he could’ve planned anything. She’s familiar with the area around Santa Barbara. There’s not much outside town.
“I’m not telling, and you’ll see soon enough.”
She leans back in the seat and closes her eyes, determined to trust him. A light outside the window draws her eye. She peers through the glass and her mouth gapes. A massive stone structure glows beneath scores of floodlights. The lights are positioned to highlight the building’s incredible architecture. Light spills out of the windows and dances in the spray of the water in a tiered stone founding in the center of a circular drive.
“What’s this?” She turns to Sebastian, who winks back.
“Quail Ridge Winery.”
It’s not a winery she’s familiar with. It has the weight of age upon it, a permanence grounding it to the land and wealth surrounding it. Landscape lights illuminate the well-manicured gardens, stealing her breath, and making her gasp.
“It’s beautiful” Her eyes are drawn to sculpted hedges, roses climbing, crawling, and spilling in artful displays. They’re all put on exhibit through the application of light. The lushness of the garden is unexpected in the stark hills surrounding her home town. “We’re having dinner here?”
“Bingo.” He looks pleased. “With a twist.”
“I can’t wait.”
Gravel crunches beneath the tires as they pull up to the front steps of the main house. Sebastian exits first and helps her out. It
’s quiet with only the splashing of the three-tiered fountain behind them to break up the silence of the night.
“Come.” He leads her up the broad stone steps and holds the door open.
There’s no-one inside.
“Where are all the people?”
“The winery is closed.”
“But…”
“Perks of being a rock star. Please tell me you like fondue?”
“I do, but do you?” She gives him a look. He’s dressed in black pants and a button-down shirt, but all she sees is the badass drummer beneath the expensive clothes.
“Are you going to think less of me if I say yes?”
“I just figured you for a burger and fries kind of guy.”
“And hotdogs, although I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve had a hotdog.”
She laughs remembering buying him lunch at the beach. “Well, it’s not something I usually eat, but I’m up for anything.”
“Good; an adventurous personality. This is going to be incredible.”
She believes him as he guides her through the massive main building. He takes her deeper inside, past tasting rooms, lounges, and a store full of hundreds of bottles of wine. Then he’s opening another door and leading her back outside. She pulls to a stop, needing to take in the breathtaking sight. A courtyard extends out from the house. Tiny string lights stretch across trellises and roses twist and climb with abandon.
“Sebastian?”
He leads her toward a single table sitting in the middle of the courtyard. White linen covers it, with a full service set for four. Four? She gives him a look, but he’s not saying a word. Instead, he’s pulling back a chair and motioning for her to take a seat. She does, stunned by the beauty surrounding her. Roses sit in the ground in full bloom. They climb up the trellises and crawl over the rafters of the pergola overhead. Candles flicker on the table and on the ground, making the entire place glow like a magical fairyland.
“This is incredible.”
“Good. I meant to impress. Chef Poirier will be with us momentarily.”
He takes a moment to do nothing but stare deeply into her eyes. His intensity is overwhelming and she remembers the feeling of his lips pressed against hers, wanting more of that. Well, more of everything really. For a man with his reputation, his hands have been very well behaved, not once roaming where they shouldn’t.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, making her squirm and fidget.
She casts her gaze to her lap and twists her fingers together. “Please stop saying that.”
“Why? It’s true.”
“But, I’m not, and you don’t have to say it.”
“It makes you uncomfortable.” The bass in his voice comes center stage, low, throbbing, and resonating with too many emotions to contain. It spills over her with concern and anger.
She gives a nod, but isn’t certain he understands.
“Tough shit.” The snap of his voice is like the sharp tap of a snare drum; harsh and unyielding.
Her head jerks up. “What?”
“I’m not going to stop telling you the truth because it makes you squirm.”
“I’m not squirming.”
“You’re doing it right now, and that officially counts as arguing.”
“I—” but she snaps her mouth closed, hating that he’s right. If she wants him to hold up his end of their bargain, she needs to honor her promises. She shifts the conversation to the obvious. He’s not said a word, but she has a sense he’s waiting. “Who are the other two place sets for?”
He points to the seat beside him. “Carter.” His finger sweeps around the table to the chair beside her. “And your brother.”
“Sebastian!”
“Despite what you may be thinking right now, I’m not much of a romantic, but I cherish connections to my past. Carter is a big part of who I am today. I imagine your brother is too. I’ve told you a great deal about mine, but haven’t asked about yours.”
He snaps his fingers and a man dressed in waiter’s black appears from the shadows with a bottle of wine.
“Do you drink?” Sebastian asks.
Not usually, but this sudden change in the evening requires a sip. Or two.
She looks up at the waiter. “Yes, please.”
While her drink is poured, Sebastian’s penetrating stare is on her, devouring, assessing, probing for weakness, and searching for strength. He’s nothing like a self-absorbed rock god who thinks of nothing and no-one but himself. He seems wonderfully normal, compassionate, and yes, even a little romantic.
After Sebastian’s glass is filled, the waiter departs to the shadows.
Sebastian lifts his glass. “To our brothers. I somehow believe they had a hand in bringing us together today. To all the days and nights we live without them, walking our lives without them by our sides.”
“You may not be a romantic…” He’s totally a romantic, but she keeps this to herself. “But you’re wonderfully sentimental. I really like that. It’s honest.” She lifts her glass and toasts to the memories of their brothers.
“Do you believe in fate?” He asks.
“I don’t know.”
“I never did. Ash does. He’s all into that spiritual crap. He says fate brought Skye to him. He knew the moment he laid eyes on her that she would be his forever. I thought he was high.”
“I’m not really into all that mystic stuff. I consider myself a realist.”
“That’s what I used to think too.”
“And now?”
“I think Ash may have been on to something.”
A man in a chef’s uniform approaches with two waiters pushing a cart filled with serving trays. Sebastian leans back as the table is set and they say nothing. The chef rattles off the steaming plates while melting cheese in the fondue pot. “Oysters Bienville fondue with horseradish brie and rice crackers. Calamari Marinara as the main course, complemented by grilled asparagus, celery sticks and spears of pineapple, lightly seared.”
“It looks amazing,” she says.
“Enjoy.” He bends at the waist, then steps away, leaving them to enjoy their feast.
“Tell me about your brother,” Sebastian says as he dips a fondue fork into the cheesy mess.
“What do you want to know?”
“Tell me about his life. Was he older or younger?”
“Younger.”
They spend the next hour taking a trip through her memories.
Sebastian leans forward, intrigued by her stories. He shares nothing about his brother, asking instead for more details, more memories filled with joy about Michael. Instead of mourning the day of her brother’s death, she finds herself smiling, laughing, and happy. She misses Michael, but feels the loss of him easier to bear with Sebastian leading her through her memories of his life.
“The two of you were close,” he says.
“We were Irish twins.”
“You were twins too?”
“Not like you and Carter. Irish twins.”
When there’s no comprehension on his face, she explains. “Two siblings born less than twelve months apart?”
“I hadn’t heard that term before.”
“Well, it’s not uncommon for those of Irish descent, especially when they’re poor.”
“I find you more fascinating the more I know about you. When do I meet your parents?”
She feels the blood draining from her face moments before Sebastian leaps out of his chair to come by her side.
“What’s wrong? What did I say?”
“My parents are a long, complicated story.” She curls her fingers around his wrist. “I’m not ready to share those memories.” They indirectly led to her brother taking his life and belong in the vault of her mind with the rest of the bad memories. A tear leaks from the corner of her eye and she wipes it away with irritation. “Tell me about Carter. Your memories of him make me smile.”
“You’ve been smiling all night talking about your brother.”
“I believe fate had a hand in that.” He gives a wave and soft music is soon spilling through the air. “Dance with me.”
Speechless and spellbound, she twirls in his arms across a makeshift dance floor. A pair of waiters clear their table and refresh their drinks as Sebastian soothes the rough edges of her thoughts with his presence and surprisingly fancy footwork. She barely keeps from stepping on his toes.
“This place is magical,” she says at the end of a twirl.
“If you think this is magical, just wait.”
Before she can process what that might mean, he kisses her forehead, the tip of her nose, and presses his lips against hers. The music leads them across the dance floor. Instead of twirling, they’re locked together, swaying with the rhythm of the best night of her life.
22
Bash
Holly’s light perfume fills Bash’s senses and sets up a rhythm in his body, buzzing his nerves and driving him crazy with her presence. Her wild curls spin and float in a chaotic cloud as he guides her across the dance floor. A song is buried in this moment. He’s itching to set it free, but unwilling to let her go.
He spins her out and away from him more times than he wants. Her hair lifts and twirls, wild and unfettered, free as he wishes to be. When he pulls her close, he’s careful not to hold her too tight. If she discovers how much she means to him, he’ll lose her.
Hard and raw, he’s barely holding on. His nerves scream for more contact, more friction. More of her sweet essence. But he holds back. There’s something lurking in the darkness of her eyes, almost as if she’s testing him.
The night’s barely begun. He’s excited for the main event, but first they need to finish dessert. Molten chocolate waits for them and an array of strawberries, bananas, and small chunks of cake ready to be dipped and covered in the sweet treat. He thinks of other, more pleasurable, uses for the chocolate, but is afraid he’ll burn her and turn something inherently sexy into a visit to the emergency room.
Hearts Divided Page 14
