An Innocent, a Seduction, a Secret

by Abby Green

  Edie’s heart thumped. ‘Today? But there’s no need—’

  Sebastio cut her off smoothly. ‘Why not move in today? At least then you’ll have the weekend to fully recuperate. There’s a gym here, and a swimming pool. You might as well avail yourself of those amenities while you can.’

  She closed her mouth. She’d heard some of the other staff mention the gym and the pool in awestruck voices, but she’d had no time to explore.

  She saw the obdurate look on Sebastio’s face. There was no point arguing. ‘Fine.’

  Now a look of amusement came over his starkly handsome features, elevating him from gorgeous to devastating.

  ‘No need to sound so gratified.’

  Edie flushed. Again. This man seemed to bring out the worst in her.

  ‘Of course I’m grateful. It’s incredibly generous of you.’

  * * *

  A few hours later Edie was standing in the middle of her new bedroom, absorbing the fact that she was really doing this. Sharing Sebastio’s house. She grimaced. Except it wasn’t really a house when there was enough room for a dozen football teams and their fans.

  The bedroom was sumptuous and understated, decorated in tones of light blue and grey. A massive bed dominated the room, which had a luxurious ensuite bathroom and also a dressing room.

  Edie had unpacked and hung up her few clothes, but the expanse of the dressing room only made them look more boring and pathetic. It was a room for shimmering gowns and hundreds of jewel-coloured shoes.

  She didn’t need the uncomfortable reminder that her encounter with Sebastio four years previously had affected her on many more levels than she liked to admit. Namely, her sense of femininity and her attractiveness to men. Maybe that was what always drew her up short on dates? She clammed up as much because of her own self-consciousness as anything they were doing or weren’t doing.

  Or maybe, said a mischievous voice, they just hadn’t been Sebastio.

  Edie rejected that utterly. It was too terrifying to contemplate. She couldn’t have been in thrall to a man she’d met for mere minutes all this time. But even as she rejected it the knowledge settled in her gut like a lead weight.

  The night she’d met Sebastio she’d felt like a fish out of water in that club, in spite of her happiness at the clear bill of health she’d been given. She’d been full of so many mixed emotions, and the throbbing music and heat of the club had compounded that turmoil inside her. Her friends had meant well, wanting to make it up to her because she’d missed out on her prom night... But really Edie hadn’t been ready for a scene like that yet.

  That was one of the reasons she’d connected so instantly with Sebastio. He too had looked as if he was set apart from his peers. A little lost. Except it had been a mirage. She’d projected her own feelings onto him.

  And she needed to remember that now. She was here to work, not dream of owning silky dresses that would hang in her dressing room. Just because Sebastio had insisted she stay, it did not mean she was now a part of his world. Far from it.

  * * *

  Sebastio was standing at his study window on Monday morning, observing Edie as she helped her team bring in more boxes of decorations. She was smiling and laughing at something someone had said and it made something dark unfurl inside him—a desire for her to smile and laugh like that for him.

  Somehow she’d managed to evade him over the weekend.

  He’d asked her to join him for dinner, only to be informed that she’d already eaten.

  He’d passed her on his way to the gym. She’d been pink-cheeked, with her short damp hair curling around her face, and he’d felt a burn down low in his gut as he’d wondered if that was how she would look in the aftermath of passion. Sated and replete.

  And he’d seen her striding purposefully out through the front door and into the grounds, as if on a mission to find lost treasure.

  One thing was clear: her reluctance to be in his company.

  As Edie disappeared from sight, and Sebastio turned away from the view, he clamped down on the hunger building inside him. Edie Munroe was not for him. She was altogether far too wholesome—and since when had he ever been attracted to wholesome? The one thing he couldn’t be accused of was seducing innocents—and Edie was an innocent.

  How much of an innocent he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t intend on finding out.

  * * *

  It was the evening of the first formal dinner party and Edie was in her room, watching the guests start to arrive. Most of the house-dressing staff had been released now. She would stay on-site to make sure that everything remained intact, and Jimmy would help her with redressing after each party. The others wouldn’t return now until after Christmas, when the decorations would be taken down.

  Sebastio had come and made an inspection of the dressed main hall and other rooms earlier, and he’d shown neither pleasure nor distaste at the whimsical displays Edie had come up with. She’d been nervous about his reaction, because she’d used branches, leaves and vines from the surrounding woods for the centre of the dining table, interspersed with candles and red berries. It was rustic more than traditional.

  She’d kept most of the other decorations on the subtle side, and infused the air with scents of delicate spices.

  The massive Christmas tree in the main hall was probably the most traditional and opulent item, and when she’d turned on the lights everyone had gasped in wonder. But Sebastio had merely skimmed an eye over it.

  He had at least acknowledged her team, if not her personally, by saying, ‘You’ve all done a fantastic job—thank you.’

  They’d left with big smiles and starry eyes. But Edie had felt deflated. They’d done Trojan work to get the house dressed in time! And yet what had she expected? Sebastio had never made any secret of the fact that he was merely doing this as a gesture, to conform with the festive season and dress his house accordingly. He’d admitted he hated Christmas. And she was just an employee.

  But still... She’d felt as if they had some sort of connection.

  And that was a very dangerous way to think, because him persuading her to do a job and making it easier for her by asking her to move in had nothing to do with anything other than facilitating that job.

  For the whole weekend—even though she’d done her best to stay out of his way—she’d felt a little hum of electricity coursing through her blood. She had been all too aware that he was in the vicinity.

  Matteo had come with an invitation for Edie to join Sebastio for dinner, but she’d assumed he was doing it merely to be polite, so she’d said no. Quite frankly, the thought of sharing any kind of intimate space with the man was alternately terrifying and thrilling.

  A movement caught Edie’s eye from down below and she saw a couple emerge from a sleek limousine. The man’s hair was dark blond in the light and he was breathtakingly handsome. The woman was stunning. Tall and elegant, wearing a long fur coat under which Edie could see flashes of black silk. Her glossy dark hair was piled high in a chignon and diamonds sparkled at her ears. She was smiling up at him, and he was looking down at her with such indulgence that Edie’s chest hurt.

  From here she could hear the faint strains of classical music. She’d watched the quartet setting up earlier in the main hall, where she knew the guests were being served with champagne. She could also hear the hum of voices and deep laughter.

  Edie didn’t realise she had a hand on her chest to assuage the tightness until long after the glamorous couple had disappeared into the house. It was mortifying to admit it, but she felt envious. Deeply envious. She’d longed all throughout her illness to experience an evening like this—looking beautiful, feeling beautiful, on the arm of a handsome, attentive man.

  Determined to put all such notions out of her head, Edie took the back route down to the kitchen, which was full of feverish activity as the staff catered for the din
ner party upstairs. She pushed all pangs of envy aside, telling herself she was being ridiculous, and made herself a sandwich.

  * * *

  When Edie woke, hours later, there was no more noise. The party must have finished. She knew she wouldn’t fall back to sleep easily. Her head had latched on to the bizarre fact that she’d forgotten to send some emails to her suppliers earlier.

  Groaning, she got up and pulled a robe over her pyjamas. She could nip down to the office and send the emails and be back in bed within ten minutes.

  As she made her way down in the half-light she imagined Sebastio’s derisory look if he saw her in her pyjamas. No doubt the women he took to bed wore nothing but perfume. Maybe there was a woman in his bed now?

  Edie groaned at herself. Stop thinking about him!

  She went into the office and flicked a switch, blinking a little as she got used to the brighter light.

  She went over to the computer and sat down, hitting a key so that it woke up. She’d sent the emails within a couple of minutes but then, just as she was about to close it down again, she found her fingers hovering uncertainly over the keyboard.

  Why did Sebastio hate Christmas so much?

  That and other questions tumbled around in Edie’s head and she couldn’t resist the temptation. Not when access to information was so tantalisingly close.

  She quickly typed Sebastio’s name into the search field before she lost her nerve.

  The first thing that popped up was a screaming headline.

  Tragic head-on collision claims life of Maya Sanchez and leaves Victor Sanchez paralysed!

  Edie clicked on the link and read with mounting horror about the awful car crash that had killed the pregnant wife of one of Argentina’s top rugby players and left him paralysed from the waist down.

  The driver had been Sebastio.

  Apparently he’d walked away without a scratch.

  The crash had happened just before Christmas almost four years ago. Not long after she’d seen him in that club.

  He’d retired from rugby immediately, and the pictures of him from that time showed a man clearly traumatised. In the process of the investigation into the crash it had been discovered that the driver of the other car, who had also died, had had a blood alcohol level three times over the limit.

  Sebastio had been cleared of any responsibility. And yet Edie didn’t think it was that simple.

  There had been moments when she’d seen something dark cross his face. Did this explain his antipathy for the time of year?

  There was a link to a video clip, and Edie clicked on it and watched as Sebastio appeared on-screen, looking drawn and haggard. The interview was in Spanish, with subtitles.

  Sebastio was saying, ‘I was the driver that night and I take full responsibility for what happened—’

  ‘Heard enough?’

  Edie almost jumped out of her skin when she registered that the same voice she was listening to was coming from behind her. She quickly shut down the video link and stood up, turning around to see Sebastio leaning against an adjoining door behind her—not the main door.

  This door blended into the wall, so he’d had a clear view of what she’d been looking at. She had the vague realisation that this room must adjoin his own private study, which she knew was also on the ground floor.

  He was wearing what Edie assumed had been a pristine tuxedo, except now his bow-tie was dangling loose and the top button of his shirt was open. The top few buttons, actually. She could see the dark shadow of chest hair and her breath hitched.

  He was holding a heavy crystal glass containing a dark golden liquid and there was a dangerous energy reaching out between them, making her skin prickle. Not with fear. Nothing remotely like that. With awareness. And need. Desperate, awful need.

  Her face was so hot she couldn’t even pretend to be blasé. All she could do was say, ‘I didn’t come in here intending to pry—really. I was sending some emails.’

  He arched a brow. ‘After midnight? That’s taking industriousness to a whole new level.’

  She ignored his sarcastic tone. ‘I couldn’t sleep, actually, and I remembered that they should have been sent earlier.’

  But as Edie looked at him now she wasn’t thinking of her emails. She couldn’t get the awful image of the remains of those cars after the crash out of her head. How had he walked away from that? Like some kind of immortal being? And why had he said he was responsible when the other driver had been over the limit?

  He pushed himself off the door frame and came into the room. ‘You just couldn’t help yourself,’ he said coldly, stopping a few feet away. ‘Everyone wants to know the gory details—even you, apparently.’

  Edie was shocked at the bitter cynicism in his voice—and something more indefinable. Hurt?

  She was about to try and defend herself, but realised she couldn’t. She had been prying. Wanting to know more about him.

  Her innate sense of honesty forced her to say, ‘I’m sorry. I was curious about why you dislike Christmas so much. I shouldn’t have been so nosy.’

  He made a rude sound and came around in front of the desk. ‘Since you’re so curious I’ll tell you something that no result on a search engine will give you. I hated Christmas long before the accident. I hated Christmas because, apart from a few years in my early childhood, I invariably spent it in the company of nannies. Then, when my parents separated in the most high-profile and bitter divorce Argentina has ever seen, they sent me to boarding school in Switzerland, leaving me there for the entire school year.’

  There was a ringing silence after Sebastio stopped speaking. He couldn’t believe he’d just let all that tumble out. But anger and a sense of betrayal still pulsed through his body.

  He shouldn’t be feeling betrayal.

  What he did feel was exposed. He’d spent the entire tedious evening cursing himself for not inviting Edie to the dinner party. He’d found himself imagining how she would look in a silky dress rather than paying any attention to his guests’ conversation.

  And then he’d followed the sound of a noise to find her here, looking at images of his wrecked past. It was as if she’d pulled back the skin on a raw wound.

  And yet he was acutely conscious that she was wearing only nightclothes and a thin robe. Her hair was deliciously dishevelled, her eyes heavy-lidded with recent sleep. So maybe she was telling the truth...

  ‘I’m sorry, Sebastio... I shouldn’t have come down here.’

  Her husky voice scraped along his raw nerve-endings. And then he saw it in the depths of her dark blue eyes. Sympathy. Compassion. It rubbed raw against his jangling nerve-endings. Taunting him. Because in spite of everything, and in spite of finding her here like this, he wanted her with a roaring hunger that refused to obey his rational mind.

  He needed to take away that sympathy and compassion. He didn’t deserve it. He wanted to see something far more explicit and earthy. Desire. The same need that was coursing through his own blood.

  With a growing sense of desperation he needed to know that she wanted him too. That he wasn’t the only one going slightly crazy. It was the only thing that might soothe the ragged edges of his control.

  He closed the distance between them and saw the flare of surprise in her eyes. And yet she didn’t move back. She stood her ground. Something inside Sebastio howled with a very male satisfaction.

  He moved closer. Until he could smell her unique scent. Delicate, but not flowery. Contradictory. Intriguing. Seductive. Tugging on wispy bits of memory that he couldn’t pin down. It made him feel off-balance. As if she knew something he didn’t.

  Sebastio was in the grip of a hunger and a need he hadn’t experienced in a long time. If ever. And it had never felt like this. Raging through his body, incinerating everything in its wake. As if he was being brought painfully back to life.

  He
had no right being brought back to life. But even that insidious thought couldn’t stop him now.

  He put down the glass he was holding and reached for her as he said, ‘Tell me you want this too...’

  Sebastio’s hands curled around Edie’s arms. She was in shock. Within seconds the tension in the room had changed to a very different kind. The kind of tension that coiled low in her belly and made her skin feel too tight. She couldn’t move. She didn’t want to move. Sebastio was looking at her with an expression of such raw hunger that she was awed.

  He wanted her.

  A terrifyingly exultant feeling was making her chest expand.

  ‘Edie...?’

  He was waiting for her. Edie knew she could step back from his hands. She knew there were a million and one reasons why it was important not to let Sebastio know how susceptible to him she was. But right now she couldn’t think of one.

  Shakily she said, ‘Yes...’

  A look of very male satisfaction crossed Sebastio’s face. He lifted a hand and moved it around her neck, holding her. A thumb touched her jaw, tracing its line. Edie had never thought of her jaw as being sensitive before, but a shiver was moving up her body and her skin broke into goosebumps.

  He tugged her towards him and they were so close she could feel his body touching hers. She was transfixed by his mouth, the sculpted sensual lines.

  His head dipped towards hers, blocking everything out, and then his mouth was on hers, firm and hot and...electrifying.

  She’d had a recurring dream for years of what it might have been like if he had kissed her in that club instead of turning her away. But no dream could have possibly come close to this reality.

  He pulled her right into him, so that she was flush against his whipcord body. All she was aware of was heat and steely strength. There wasn’t a hint of softness anywhere. It didn’t intimidate her—it excited her.

  She wasn’t shutting down now. Far from it. She was blossoming like a flower opening to the heat of the sun.

  He drew back. It took an age for Edie to be able to open her eyes, and when she did all she saw were swirling grey pools.