by Abby Green
Sebastio saw Edie out on the terrace that wrapped around the front of his apartment and welcomed the distraction from his brooding thoughts. He shrugged off his jacket and went to join her, pushing aside everything in his head except for her and indulging in this crazy chemistry.
It was part of the reason he’d asked her to come—because with a sense of something bordering on desperation he fully expected her appeal to wane, sooner rather than later... But not yet. He pressed close behind her, sliding his arms around her slim waist.
Edie put her hands on Sebastio’s over her belly. She felt the strangest sensation for a moment, light-headed, and gripped his arms tight as if she might fall.
He tensed. ‘Are you okay?’
It passed as quickly as it had come and Edie nodded. ‘Just hungry, probably. I should have eaten more on the plane.’
‘We’ll go out for some food, but first...’
Sebastio turned her around so her back was to the terrace wall and she was looking up at him. As stunning as Buenos Aires was, she knew which view she’d choose.
He pressed close. ‘How hungry are you?’
She felt his erection pressing into her soft flesh. Her body and mind melted. ‘Ravenous.’
She reached up and drew him down, touching her mouth to his, savouring the moment and the man, storing up every precious second like a miser.
* * *
‘Where are you now?’
‘In the cemetery, looking for Eva Peron’s grave.’
Sebastio smiled, imagining Edie with a frown on her face as she looked at the map.
‘Just follow the rest of the tourists—that’s probably the easiest way to find it.’
Last night, after they’d gone out for something to eat—very late—Edie had given him something in a bag and said shyly, ‘It’s just something silly. I never got you a Christmas present.’
Sebastio could still remember the tight feeling in his chest when he’d opened the bag and taken out a small furry toy dog. Edie had customised it with an eye-patch.
She’d said, ‘I know it probably doesn’t look anything like your grandmother’s dog, but maybe he’ll do until you get a dog of your own one day.’
Sebastio had been gobsmacked. First of all, no woman had ever given him a gift. And secondly, the chances of him ever getting a dog had always been somewhere between nil and zero. But suddenly, for a shimmering second before he’d been able to shut it down, the possibility had existed. Somewhere in the future.
The gesture had been incredibly sweet, and instead of making Sebastio feel claustrophobic, or like running a mile, it had only made him want her more.
He heard the low buzz of voices behind him and turned back to see a long table full of his diligent employees. His chief of staff was near the head of the table, and he looked at his watch and then at Sebastio expressively.
He was one of the few people Sebastio had kept on from his father’s days to help keep the transition smooth and Sebastio decided he’d now served his purpose. No one told him what to do.
He said to Edie, ‘Stay where you are. I’ll come and meet you.’
‘But how will you find me?’
‘Trust me. I’ll find you.’ She stood out like a beacon in Buenos Aires, with her pale skin and bright auburn hair.
Sebastio adjourned the meeting, telling his employees to take the rest of the day off and that he didn’t expect to see them until after the New Year. Then he took his chief of staff aside and informed him that he would be giving the man his notice and a very healthy severance package in the New Year.
When he walked out of the bank and got into the back of his car he felt truly light for the first time in a long time.
* * *
Edie knew Sebastio was coming to meet her, but she was still unprepared to see him striding through the magnificent and imposing mausoleum gravestones of Recoleta Cemetery with his jacket off, hooked over his shoulder by a finger, and his other hand in his pocket. Her heart went wild and she heard a collective appreciative gasp go up from a group of female tourists from America nearby.
He stopped in front of her and he was dazzling. Never more so than in this place which commemorated the dead. His vitality was intoxicating.
‘Did you pay your respects to Evita?’
Edie nodded, giddy that he’d come to spend time with her.
He said, ‘Good.’ And then he took her hand and led her away.
They spent the afternoon wandering around the local colourful districts. She loved exploring the wide streets, and almost cried when they stopped to watch a couple of street performers dance a tango to the most melancholic, soulful music she’d ever heard.
She caught Sebastio rolling his eye and muttering something like ‘Tourists...’ under his breath and she punched him in the arm.
He responded by stopping and kissing her very thoroughly in the middle of the street, much to the appreciation of the passing crowd. Someone even threw a coin their way.
Edie’s face was still flaming after that very unexpected public display of affection when he took her into a very exclusive-looking boutique down a side street.
She caught his arm, whispering, ‘What are you doing?’
He said, ‘Remember I mentioned a party? Well, it’s a New Year’s Eve party being thrown by friends of mine at their house tomorrow evening. You’ll need a dress.’
Immediately Edie’s bubble burst a little. It was one thing spending time alone with Sebastio, but another thing entirely actually meeting his peers. Friends. She wasn’t one of them.
He seemed to read her mind and tipped her chin up so she had to look at him. ‘They’re nice people. I promise.’
Edie smiled weakly, just as a stunningly beautiful dark-haired woman approached and spoke in rapid Spanish to Sebastio. Edie was whisked away before she could protest, and when she looked back he was sitting on a wide chair, being handed a newspaper and a cup of coffee by another equally beautiful assistant.
For a moment something icy trickled down her spine. It was obviously a scenario he was used to, because he looked as at home here as he did in his apartment. And evidently the staff knew him from before. Him and his lovers.
As the women fussed around Edie she told herself she shouldn’t be feeling hurt. This was just a timely reminder of how finite this all was.
* * *
Sebastio’s levels of arousal were dangerously high by the time Edie emerged from the dressing room in yet another dress. So he almost exploded when he saw the very short, thigh-skimming dark blue sequinned dress. On anyone else it might have looked cheap. Tacky. But Edie’s innate elegance and long slim legs elevated it to a couture gown.
It had a high neck and elbow-length sleeves, so it was positively demure on top—apart from the fact that it clung to her body like a second skin and showed off her slender curves and the high, firm thrust of her breasts.
‘We’ll take it—and all the others,’ Sebastio said, sounding slightly strangled.
Edie looked shocked. ‘Sebastio, that is really not necessary—’
He stood up and ignored her, instructing the sales assistant to pack up all the dresses before paying.
When Edie was dressed in her own jeans and T-shirt again—which felt like rags compared to the dresses she’d been trying on—she came out of the dressing room to find Sebastio’s driver had somehow miraculously appeared and was carrying out what looked like hundreds of bags. Sebastio must have bought even more clothes.
She turned to Sebastio outside the shop. ‘First of all, thank you—you’re being far too generous. But that was really unnecessary. I don’t need all those clothes—where would I even wear them?’
Suddenly Edie couldn’t read his expression and it made her nervous. He put his sunglasses on, hiding his eyes. ‘Do with them what you will, Edie. They’re a gift.’
&nb
sp; Of course. It was no big deal because he’d done this before. They were just clothes to decorate his latest lover and he was a billionaire so he could afford it.
The thing that bothered Edie most, though, as Sebastio helped her into the back of his car, was that she didn’t want to be like his other women...
* * *
The following evening Edie was nervous as they approached the grand and imposing entrance to Sebastio’s friends’ house, which wasn’t far from his apartment.
He’d told her that the host had been one of his closest companions growing up. He was married and had two children. So when they got to the door and she saw a gorgeous couple—him, tall and arrestingly dark and handsome in a classic tuxedo, and her, exquisitely pretty with dark eyes and russet-brown hair caught up in a chignon—both smiling widely, something inside Edie eased.
They looked nice. Intimidatingly gorgeous, but nice.
‘Edie, I’d like you to meet Rafael and Isobel Romero.’
Isobel came forward, smiling warmly, stunning in a long sequinned black gown. ‘Edie, I’m so pleased to meet you. Thank you for coming.’
Edie smiled. ‘Nice to meet you too.’
Rafael introduced himself too, placing an arm firmly around his wife’s waist after they’d done their introductions. It was only then that Edie noticed the neat but very definite bump under Isobel’s form-fitting dress.
The other woman noticed Edie’s look and grimaced, saying sotto voce, ‘I really need to work out my timings better. Being pregnant at the height of an Argentinian summer is not very clever, but somehow I’ve managed to do it every time.’
Edie’s eyes widened. ‘You sound English.’
‘My father was English, and I spent a lot of time in England. By the way, I love your hair. Mine used to be that short too, and I’m seriously considering getting it cut again—it’s so much easier to manage.’
Her husband interrupted them with a growl. ‘No, you’re not.’ He looked at Edie. ‘No offence—your hair is beautiful—but I prefer my wife’s hair long.’
Isobel rolled her eyes, but Edie could see a look of teasing and something much hotter pass between them. She felt a pang of envy at their obvious affection, and just then two small blurs collided with them. A girl of about eight—a mini-me of her mother, with dark hair and eyes—and a little boy of about five. A handsome replica of his father.
Inexplicably Edie felt a lurch in her gut. A sudden hollow sensation. She’d always known that children most likely wouldn’t be a part of her future, but she’d never felt it so keenly before. It was disconcerting to be feeling this here, now, with Sebastio standing at her side. A man who would run a mile from the mere suggestion of family.
Rafael and Isobel introduced them to the children, Beatriz and Luis, who were hopping with excitement at the prospect of fireworks later, and then efficiently dispatched them with their nannies while showing Sebastio and Edie through to the party so they could greet the other guests now arriving.
The sheer opulence of the event made Edie’s head spin. It was being held in a huge marquee in the gorgeous landscaped back garden, lit with a thousand fairy lights. It made her Christmas dressing skills feel very inadequate.
The house was situated on a hill, so there was a spectacular view of the city all the way to the port, where the last rays of the setting blood-red sun were staining the sky. England and its blizzards and winter seemed very far away.
Sebastio looked at Edie. Her eyes were huge. He’d had to physically restrain himself from clamping her to his side in front of Rafael—it had shocked him how suddenly possessive he’d felt, even though he knew his friend was deeply besotted with his wife. But he’d noticed his friend look at Edie speculatively, and he knew it was because she wasn’t like the women Sebastio had brought as dates in the past. He’d felt exposed.
But now any sense of exposure was fast being eclipsed by the fact that Edie was effortlessly drawing lots of lingering glances, with her endless pale legs and lithe body. Sebastio regretted buying her the dress now, even though other women there were even more scantily clad.
He gave in to the possessive surge rushing through him and snaked an arm around her waist, turning her so that she was facing him. Looking up. All he could see were those huge blue eyes and long lashes. That provocative mouth that never said what he expected.
He bent his head and crushed her mouth under his, kissing her deeply.
When he pulled back he noted with satisfaction that it took a second for her to open her eyes, and when she did they were unfocused.
‘What was that for?’ she asked, sounding dazed.
What had that been for? asked a mocking voice inside Sebastio’s head.
He was losing it. He’d never felt the need to stamp his claim on a woman before. And yet he couldn’t stop the honest truth from tripping out of his mouth. ‘Because I can’t not kiss you when you look at me like that.’
Edie really wished he wouldn’t do this. Make her heart flutter with a very dangerous sense of hope. Because it didn’t mean anything. Nor did the fact that she was his first lover in four years. None of it meant anything. All he meant was that he wanted her. Pure physical chemistry. Not emotion.
But by the time the fireworks were illuminating the Buenos Aires sky after midnight Edie was glad she was sitting on the grass between Sebastio’s legs, her back against his chest, so he wouldn’t see the tears welling in her eyes at the beauty of it all.
It wasn’t only the spectacular fireworks taking her attention, though, as Isobel and Rafael Romero were nearby, each holding a wonderstruck child in their arms. A unit of love and family. Edie’s belly actually ached this time, and she put a hand to it, biting her lip to stem the tide of emotion.
Sebastio’s voice came, near to her ear. ‘Okay?’
She nodded rapidly, terrified he’d see something of the turmoil she felt.
‘Ready to leave?’ Sebastio’s voice was rough and loaded with intent.
His hand snaked around and rested over hers on her belly. She could feel his body stirring at her back and closed her eyes at the inevitable response, making her ready for him. Making her needy. Desperate. Craving.
She nodded and whispered, ‘Yes...let’s go.’
In the car on the way back to his apartment the sexual tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. By the time they were in the lift Sebastio had pressed Edie against the wall and was kissing her as if his life depended on it.
She didn’t remember leaving the lift and entering the apartment, or getting to the bedroom. All she knew was that she needed to be joined with Sebastio or she would die. Her need was that acute.
He thrust deep and hard, bringing her leg up so that he went even deeper. Edie closed her eyes but he said, ‘Open them... Edie, look at me.’
She did, and as he forced her to connect with him on every level, allowing her no quarter, she cursed him silently even as she fell apart into a million pieces.
* * *
Two days later Edie was looking out of another plane window, at a small island covered in green in the middle of the ocean. Waves lapped against white sand beaches and palm trees swayed in the breeze.
It was pretty much your quintessential tropical island paradise. There was a huge colonial-style house in the centre of the island, and Edie could make out a path leading from the house to the beach. There were smaller buildings in a cluster near the main house, and she guessed those must be for staff.
The plane landed and she saw a man waiting with an open-top Jeep to drive them to the house. Sebastio greeted the driver warmly and after introducing him to Edie got into the back.
When they were driving along the road, Edie couldn’t help observing, ‘You never drive. You don’t like to, or...?’ She stopped, suddenly aghast at what she’d just said. How insensitive it had been.
Sebastio’s jaw clenc
hed. He looked at her. ‘I haven’t driven since that night.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—’
He shook his head, negating her apology and shutting the conversation down.
The knot that had been in Edie’s belly since the party intensified. Unconsciously she placed a hand there. She’d been feeling all over the place since meeting Rafael and Isobel. Seeing how happy they were, seeing their children, had touched on something very vulnerable in Edie. She’d never really articulated to herself how devastated she’d been to learn that she might not ever have a family...and it had hit her forcibly that night.
Then, when they’d returned to the apartment...when they’d made love...it had felt so much more intense than at any other time. Edie had felt flayed afterwards. It had been as if a layer of civility had been stripped away between her and Sebastio, exposing something far more raw and visceral.
The following day she hadn’t woken until the afternoon. She hadn’t been able to put her finger on it but she’d felt...off, somehow.
Immediately alarm bells had rung. She was hyper-conscious of anything changing in her health since the cancer. After all, she’d only found out about that because she’d felt an innocuous lump in her neck and had gone to get it checked out.
So she’d rung her GP back in Britain, and as a result of that conversation had gone to a pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test. Now it was sitting in her luggage like a ticking time bomb.
Her GP had reminded her that the chances of her getting pregnant were very slim, but had suggested that they rule it out first, just to be safe.
Edie hadn’t had the nerve to do the test before they’d left Buenos Aires, not ready to face the enormity of what the result might mean. The thought that she might be pregnant absolutely terrified Edie, and filled her with euphoria at the same time.
It would be the ultimate test of her health. To know that she could create a life after almost losing hers. After being pumped full of toxins. But for it to happen like this...? With a man who had expressly told her he didn’t do relationships or commitment...?
