Rory laughed. “Oh, honey, everyone is going to be looking at you. You are going to be the talk of the Twittersphere. The mysterious woman on the arm of the hottest director in the world. You really should have called in sick and gone with that personal shopper.”
“Rory’s right.” Shelli shook her head. “You are going to be on everyone’s radar, and that dress I gave you is lovely, but it’s two seasons old.”
Grace’s stomach clenched. Oh God. “Neither of you are helping.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I called you both here because I needed help, and neither of you are doing that.”
Shelli squeezed her in a fierce hug. “Don’t stress. You will still be more stunning than everyone there. And I bet more real. Stop stressing and get moving. Hart will be here any moment, and you are in your underwear.”
Rory handed her back the red stiletto. “These ones.”
The doorbell rang.
Grace’s stomach dropped. “Are you kidding me?”
With an ungentle push, Shelli shoved her off the bed. “Hurry up. Rory and I will keep the supreme director entertained while you finish.”
Both left the room.
Throat thick, Grace rose to her feet and crossed to her closet. Opening the door, she looked at the photo of Gary pinned there. “This is not a date,” she whispered. “This is…”
She’d argued with herself all the previous night about what this was. About why she wasn’t going to go, why it was a bad idea. She’d counter-argued how it would maybe make Justin ask her out. He clearly was getting agitated about Sebastian. The trouble was, did she really want Justin getting all caveman jealous?
Sebastian had arrived in the most sublime sports car she’d ever seen to collect Cody to take him to school this morning. Gunmetal-gray and purring like a powerful animal, the Aston Martin sat in her driveway, incongruous and probably more expensive than all the cars on her street put together.
Cody had let out a shout of joy she’d never heard him make before. She’d been lucky to even get a kiss out of him before he scurried down the footpath toward Sebastian and the sports car.
Sebastian had stood at the open passenger door, a smile on his face.
Their gazes had connected, and for one short moment, Grace had wanted to walk straight up to him, tangle her hands in his hair, and kiss him senseless.
The urge had been so potent, so consuming, her feet began to move.
She’d caught herself, raised her hand, and called out, “Have fun at school, bug. Drive safely, Sebastian.”
She had no answer for why she wanted to kiss him like that. All she had was a belief she should feel guilty.
Should. But didn’t.
And now here she was, getting ready to go out with him to an event unlike any she’d ever been to. But it wasn’t a date. She refused to let it be.
Are you sure?
Grinding her teeth, she removed the blush-colored slip dress from its hanger, stepped into it, and then wriggled the back zipper up as high as she could.
“You look beautiful.”
She jumped and let out a soft squeal at Cody’s awed voice.
He walked into her room, mouth open, eyes wide with wonder, as if he’d never seen her before.
Smiling, she gave her head a little nod. “Thank you. Can you help me zip this up, please?”
“Sure.” He climbed up onto the bed, waited for her to present him her back, and then yanked up her zipper. Ah, the elegance and subtleties of a ten-year-old boy. “Can I ask a question, Mummy?”
Mummy. Whoa. It had been a while since he’d used Mummy when not tired or unwell. “Absolutely, bug. You know that.”
“Would Daddy like Sebastian?”
Her mouth turned dry. “I… Why do you ask?”
Gary had heard about Sebastian. In their first year together, she’d told Gary about her ex-neighbor who used to tease her relentlessly. And then, when Sebastian’s first film was released and took the cinema world by storm, she told Gary the director was that annoying neighbor she once mentioned. Gary, ever her hero, had told her he would beat Sebastian up for her if she wanted before throwing her over his shoulder in a masterful fireman’s hold and carrying her to their bedroom.
That was the last time Sebastian’s name ever came up.
Cody frowned, as if trying to process something in his head. “Shelli said you and Sebastian used to be neighbors a long time ago, and that you liked to fight with each other. But that he was different now.”
That was an understatement. On every level.
Mouth still dry, she took Cody’s hands in hers. “Do you think Daddy would like Sebastian?”
His frown deepened. “I think so.”
Why did that answer make her heart slam faster in her chest?
“Do you like Sebastian?” Dangerous question. Did she really want the answer to that one?
Cody grinned. “Hell yeah.”
She raised her eyebrows in mock disapproval. “Excuse me?”
He grinned wider.
Pulse fluttering, she gave his hands a little shake. “Okay, I have to finish getting ready.”
“Okay.” He jumped off the bed and ran from the room.
“Mum looks beautiful.” His shout echoed from the hallway back to where she stood.
Oh God.
Sucking in a slow breath, she picked up the red stilettos, strapped them onto her feet, and then stared at her reflection in the mirror. “All right. Let’s do this not-a-date thing.”
Everyone stopped talking when she strode into the living room and looked at her.
“You’re right, buddy.” Sebastian levered himself from the kitchen counter, his smile wide. “Grace does look beautiful. And she definitely didn’t need the services of the personal shopper.”
Heat flooded through her. Not just because of the unexpected compliment, but because everything about the way Sebastian looked pushed every single sexual button she had.
His hair was still that artfully choppy mess, sticking up in places, falling about his collar and eyebrows in others. The stubble on his jaw had grown, now almost a beard that only served to highlight how exquisite his jaw and chin were. The black tuxedo he wore emphasized the broad width of his shoulders and tapered back. The black shirt he wore beneath it revealed what she’d wondered about only the night before—a hint of honey-gold hair teased her from behind the open collar. His long legs looked longer somehow in the well-cut pants, and on his feet, in true Sebastian Hart fashion, were a pair of Kermit-the-Frog-green Crocs.
“Like the shoes,” she said. Anything to hide the fact she could hardly breathe.
He chuckled. “Thank you. Heard of the entertainment reporter, Dickie? Wait until he sees these. Ready to go? I want to show you off to the world.”
Fresh heat filled Grace’s cheeks. Rory laughed, and Shelli cast an askew smile at her.
“Have fun you two,” Shelli instructed, walking over to Grace to pretend to pat down her hair. She’d made an effort with it tonight, twisting it into a loose bun just behind her right ear. The curse of curly, unruly hair had seemed somewhat less evil tonight as she’d stood in the bathroom. What did Sebastian think of it? Her hair had always been an easy target for him back in the day.
Did she really care what he thought of her hair?
She didn’t. And yet…
“Don’t stay out too late,” Shelli finished, a devilish light dancing in her eyes.
“If we want to stay out late”—Sebastian made his way over to them, offering his arm to Grace—“we’ll stay out late.”
Shelli snorted. “And there’s the Sebastian Hart I remember from school. And here I was thinking Grace was going on a date with a redeemed man.”
“Shelli.” Grace grit her teeth. “Shut it.”
Sebastian dropped Shelli a wink. “Holt, I’m totally irredeemable. You know that. You told me that very thing when we were at school.”
And with that, he took Grace’s hand, slid it around his arm, and kissed her c
heek.
“Nice,” Rory murmured.
“Gross.” Cody laughed, grinning up at Sebastian.
Grace’s stomach fluttered. Yep, it was unavoidable. Her son had a bad case of the hero worship.
Straightening, Sebastian threw Cody a grin. “I know, right? I’ll try not to do it again.”
“You’re an idiot, Hart,” she muttered, even as her pulse quickened.
“No, I’m a multi-award-winning idiot. Let’s go.”
They walked out to the car like that, her hand wrapped around his elbow. She couldn’t help but notice the firm bulge of his biceps against her fingers, nor could she ignore the tight ribbon of appreciation it stirred deep in her core.
A cool breeze carrying a hint of autumn tickled her neck and bare shoulders, pinching her nipples into tight tips.
“Bye, Mum,” Cody yelled from the porch. “Have fun with the famous people.”
“Your son is awesome.” Sebastian’s warm breath played with her cheek as he opened the passenger door on the Aston Martin. “You should be proud. You’ve done an amazing job raising him.”
“Seb…” She turned. She had to tell him not to get the wrong idea and stop complimenting her. She didn’t know how to deal with him when he complimented her.
He kissed her. A soft, gently, barely there caress of lips on lips.
And before she could stop herself, she closed her eyes and sighed into the kiss. It was so tender and perfect and she was going to get hurt and feel guilty, but she didn’t care, she didn’t, just for this one brief—
A dog barked. Loud. Right behind her.
Sebastian pulled away, a smug smile tugging at the edges of his lips. “G’day, Fitzsummons. Nice night.”
“Fitzsimmons,” Justin growled from the footpath. “And it is.”
Heat flooded Grace’s face. Had Sebastian kissed her because he was still on some deluded, stubborn mission to fix her up with Justin? Or because he wanted to actually kiss her?
The latter notion was terrifying. And yet…
“Would love to have a chin-wag.” Sebastian smoothed his hand up her back, and down…low, lower. “But we’ve got a film premiere to attend. Later, mate.”
Justin hitched at Baxter’s leash, flicked Grace another look, and kept walking.
Biting her lip, she lowered herself into the Aston Martin.
“Why do you do that?” she asked as Sebastian took his place behind the wheel.
“Do what?” He fired up the engine.
“One, slip into really clichéd Australian slang when you’re agitated. And two, act like a total arrogant bastard when Justin’s around? He’s a nice guy. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, and he put the car into reverse. “Clichéd Australian slang has a way of throwing the person you’re talking to for a loop. They don’t really know how to react or respond, especially if they’re not an Aussie, so it gives me an advantage during situations that I don’t intend to lose.”
“And two?”
He gave her a sideways smile. “Justin’s not going to come after you if you’re falling in love with a nice guy, is he? But if he thinks you’re falling for a wanker? Well, he’s going to make it his mission to save you.”
Her pulse thumped faster in her throat. Falling in love? With Sebastian Hart? Not bloody likely.
She swallowed, studying his profile as he reversed the Aston Martin from her driveway, put it into gear, and drove away from her home.
“I’m not…” She stopped. She couldn’t say anything. Not when she didn’t know what to say.
I don’t want Justin. I want you.
Turning to watch the world outside the car, she drew in a slow breath. How had she gotten herself into this situation? How did she extract herself from it?
They drove in silence. Whatever was going through Sebastian’s head, he kept it to himself. Michael Bublé filled the car’s interior, the singer’s velvet-smooth voice like a salve to Grace’s nerves.
She was a mess. It wasn’t meant to be like this. If Sebastian touched her now, even a simple brushing of his fingers against her elbow, she would probably let out a squeal. Or worse still, beg him to kiss her—really kiss her. Throw her against the wall, any wall, and kiss her until her knees turned to liquid—
The Aston Martin came to a halt.
“Ready?”
Drawing in a swift breath, she took in the sight outside the car.
In the background, the Sydney Opera House’s white-tiled sails arced high into the dusk sky. Directly beyond the car, making their way slowly along a plush red carpet that led through a cheering, screaming crowd were people. Lots of people. Beautiful people. Stunning people. Sexy people. Famous people.
And photographers. And the media.
But most of all, famous, beautiful people wearing beautiful clothes.
And she deigned to walk among them. Her. Grace Wilder. Slightly overweight, definitely overwrought, woefully underdressed Grace Wilder. Paramedic.
Oh God.
Swinging her stare back to Sebastian, she shook her head. “Um. No.”
He arched an eyebrow. “No?”
“I don’t belong out there. With those people. I don’t.” Her stomach lurched. Her mouth grew dry. “You’ll get mocked. The gossip media will have a field day, poking fun at you. I won’t…” She shook her head again. “No.”
Killing the car’s engine, uncaring of the valet waiting for them on the red-carpeted curb, Sebastian rested his elbow on the steering wheel and touched her chin. “Grace. You spent your childhood tearing me a new one almost every week. You are fearless.”
She swallowed.
“And you are here with me because I want you to be here with me. That’s not part of my community service, nor did I need to bring you here to rile Fitzsimmon’s up. He’s already riled up. You’re here with me because I wanted no one else but you to come with me. I wanted to share something important with you. Will you allow me to do that? Please?”
Another please. As unexpected as the first one.
“Please?” he repeated, brushing the back of his knuckles over her cheek.
“Okay.”
He smiled at her husky answer. “I wasn’t lying back at your house, by the way. You do look beautiful. Although, I have to admit, I’ve come to realize I’m a fan of your hair being its natural wild, untamed mass of crazy curls.”
Maybe later, you could contribute to messing it up.
“Can I kiss you?”
Her body ignited with warmth. Oh God, yes. “No.”
His chest heaved with a shaky breath.
“But maybe you can ask me that question later.”
Chapter Seven
It wasn’t the best premiere he’d had. Sitting in the Opera House’s dark auditorium, surrounded by those in the industry, and those aching to be in the industry, he saw what he hadn’t before when locked up in the editing room with Raph, his numero uno editor.
Samantha and Dave had…issues.
Pacing, for one. Plus, the narrative was all over the shop.
The soundtrack by Levi Levistan was soul-moving, and Chris Huntley was incredible—but then, he always was, that’s why Sebastian demanded he be cast as Dave. But the script just wasn’t giving him anything to really do. And his chemistry with the up-and-coming actress cast as Samantha was…MIA.
Well, fuck.
The credits finally rolled, and as they did, the Opera House’s main hall burst into applause. People rose to their feet.
Sebastian clenched his teeth. He’d been in the industry long enough to expect the adulation at the end of a premiere. He’d also been in it long enough to know it would come regardless of it being deserved.
Right now, it wasn’t deserved.
Samantha and Dave may not be the unmitigated mess some of the earlier reviews proclaimed it to be, but it wasn’t great. It wasn’t amazing.
Ignoring those around him, he turned to Grace. “What did you think?”
<
br /> Frowning at the last of the credits scrolling up the screen to a haunting ballad recorded by Josh Blackthorne, she nibbled on her thumb.
He ground his teeth again. “Well?”
“I’ve seen better.” She gave him a sideways look. “You’ve made better.”
Fuck.
Swiping at his mouth, he nodded. Trust Grace to tell the truth.
“But, it’s all subjective, right? I mean, I love the movie Hansel and Gretel, and if I remember correctly, it was universally panned.”
“You like Hansel and Gretel?”
She nodded.
“Me, too. An unrecognized masterpiece, in my opinion.”
Her laugh stroked at some of the dark tension brewing within him. Calmed it a little. “Look at that,” she said. “After all these years, we finally have something in common.”
“Finally,” he murmured. “Guess I better stand up and take a bow,” he muttered, cutting the disquieting thought dead. “As unwarranted as it may be.”
“Guess you better.”
He stood, bowed, waved a congratulatory hand at Chris sitting on his left, and encouraged more applause.
Someone handed him a microphone. He gripped it, head roaring. Words came out of his mouth. Words of praise for his cast, his crew. Words of gratitude to the studio CEO who allowed him to make such a passion project. Words of affection for Sydney and Australia for being his home, regardless of how far and wide he traveled and worked.
All the words. The familiar script spoken so often at so many events.
And yet right here, right now, they were just sounds. They weren’t the words he really wanted to say. Deep down, in a place he’d never been before, never knew existed before, he knew they weren’t the words he wanted to say.
He really wanted to say sorry.
He really wanted to say he’d do better next time.
He really wanted to say…he really wanted to say…
I think I love you, Grace. I think I always have.
Shit.
He shoved the mic at Chris. “I gotta…I gotta go.”
Chris blinked, taking the mic. “You okay, dude?”
Sebastian nodded, forced a grin, and then clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ve just been hit with a thought I can’t ignore. The muse at work, eh. Gotta go get it down. Everyone’s here to see you anyway, not me. No one wants to see the director.”
The Irredeemable Billionaire (Muse series) Page 11