Reckless In Love (The Maverick Billionaires #2)

by Bella Andre

  “Sebastian, please.” She writhed beneath him, his leg thrown over hers to open her body fully to him.

  “We have all night,” he murmured, sliding a teasing finger inside her. “And I’m going to enjoy every second.”

  Her desire rose so fast, she couldn’t wait. It wasn’t enough that he pleasured her. She needed to feel his body connected to hers, completely—inside her, filling her, riding the wave with her.

  “Now,” she whispered. “I want it all now.”

  He kissed her hard, consuming her for all-too-brief seconds. “I love it when you’re greedy.” He arched, retrieved the protection. They hadn’t even fully removed the robes, the soft terry caressing her skin along with all his hard muscles.

  Then he gave her what she wanted, what she craved, filling her deeply.

  And nothing else mattered, not the money, not the things they’d said. There was just this—his beautiful touch, his loving murmurs, and then his mouth on hers as they touched the sky together.

  * * *

  Sebastian relished every single second with Charlie spooned into his body, her breathing gentle and even. The moment was made even more sublime because he’d almost ruined everything, coming close to losing her by doing the most asinine thing imaginable—talking about money after they’d made love for the first time.

  He should have heeded Susan’s warning not to push, especially with an independent woman like Charlie...

  It was just that making love seemed to tear down all the barriers between them. He couldn’t hold back his desire to do everything possible to make her happy and to care for her mother. No formal promises had been made, but they already felt like his family. He had no expectations and wanted no payback for anything he did, and he’d believed Charlie would finally understand that he wanted to help because she meant everything to him.

  But he’d proven he was as big an idiot when it came to love as any fool had ever been. All night long he’d wanted to say the words, wanted her to know he was crazy in love with her. But he’d been afraid she’d see it as just another ploy to get his way.

  I love you, Charlie.

  Soon. He’d tell her soon.

  And hopefully, he prayed as he pulled her closer in the dark, breathing in her scent, she’d fall in love with him too.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The weekend with Sebastian had been beautiful. If she closed her eyes, Charlie could still almost feel his touch on her skin, and his scent seemed to linger all over her body. When she breathed, she breathed in Sebastian.

  But then there was real life, and the Monday after the gala was not only moving day for Charlie’s mother, but Sebastian had also arranged for a new doctor to meet with her. Charlie was thrilled her mother would finally live in a nice home with a garden again, but she was more than a little worried about Sebastian. If his hopes for her mother’s health were smashed, would he take it as badly as he had his failure to help his own parents?

  Dr. Bengali had kind brown eyes and dark skin that showed nary a wrinkle. In his mid-thirties, he was an eminent surgeon who specialized in ankles. Sebastian had researched the man’s career, and though he was relatively young, he was considered brilliant in his field. It still blew Charlie away that Sebastian could convince these prominent surgeons to make house calls. Despite her doubts that anything could be done, she still couldn’t help the whisper of an internal mantra: Please help her. Please.

  First, the doctor observed her mother’s ability to walk. Then, since Charlie was still packing two suitcases and a garment bag for the move, they’d convened in her mother’s room. Sebastian leaned against the wall a few feet away while her mother sat in her reading chair as the doctor studied her ankles. Gently, Dr. Bengali removed both her shoes and the braces, then delicately turned each ankle in his long fingers to check her range of motion and pain level with every movement. He palpated and squeezed the flesh, carefully examining right down to the toes.

  Finally he rose to sit on the edge of the bed. Sebastian had remained quiet, but, just as with Dr. Hillman, his tension was like a live wire pulsing in the room.

  “I’ve looked at your X-rays, Mrs. Ballard, and I want you to know that you’ve had a very good surgeon. I couldn’t have done better by you. I agree with your doctor’s instructions to keep walking. All in all, you’re doing extremely well.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.” Her mother smiled like a ray of sunshine.

  “There’s nothing more you can do for her ankles?” Sebastian asked. To anyone else, he might have sounded completely normal, but to Charlie, his words seemed to be strained through too-tight vocal cords. She’d kissed his throat, touched almost every centimeter of skin, felt his hard muscles against her, and she knew, even if no one else could even sense it, that his sense of powerlessness hurt him core-deep. Yet she could do nothing for him.

  Dr. Bengali turned to him. “Mrs. Ballard’s arthritis is severely degenerative. Essentially she has virtually no ankle bones left. Her surgeon has done extensive reconstruction, but I’m still surprised and pleased with how well she walks.” He turned back to her mother, then reached for her hand and squeezed it. “You’re a remarkable woman. For most people at your stage, walking a mile every day is impossible.”

  Her mother punched the air like a teenager. “No pain, no gain.”

  “I agree that Francine is one of the most amazing people I’ve had the privilege of calling my friend,” Sebastian said. “But is there something we can do about her pain level, at the very least?”

  “We could send her to a pain clinic, but the narcotics are highly addictive, and over time she would build up a tolerance.”

  Charlie tried to keep her heart intact as she folded her mother’s cotton nightgowns into the case. They’d heard it all before. Yet it still hurt to hear once again that there was nothing more they could do. She glanced at Sebastian, whose face was like granite, and that made the ache so much worse.

  “I don’t want to start any more meds.” Her mother was calm yet firm. “Evie down the hall takes that stuff and though it doesn’t do much for her pain anymore, she can’t go without it. It’s terrible to watch when she tries to wean herself off it. That’s not for me.”

  Dr. Bengali stood. “As I said, ma’am, you are a remarkable woman. I thank you for the opportunity to examine you and wish I had better news.”

  “Thank you for coming to see me, Dr. Bengali.” Charlie’s mother held out her crippled hands, and he leaned over to take them in his long, firm, nimble surgeon’s fingers. “You’re a very nice young man.”

  He smiled, his teeth gleaming white in the sun falling through the blinds. “You’re too kind.”

  After Charlie shook his hand and thanked him, Sebastian stepped forward. Despite how carefully Sebastian was working to hide his frustration, Charlie felt his pain as much as her mother’s, his emotion palpable, his anger undulating tangibly around him. And beneath all of it lay a helplessness that Charlie would give the world to erase, just as she would have given everything she had to take away her mother’s pain.

  Still, Sebastian took Dr. Bengali’s hand in his with a firm shake. “Thank you for answering our call. If you learn of any new techniques, medications, or methods, please let us know.”

  “Certainly.”

  The regal man left, and Sebastian turned to the window, studying her mother’s spectacular view of the parking lot. “I’m sorry,” he said, his throat still constricted. “We’ll find someone else.” He avoided their eyes, as if he was ashamed they’d see the failure in his gaze. “We’ll keep looking, I swear it.”

  Charlie wanted to enfold him in her arms, draw his ache into her own body, kiss away all his hurt. But her mother held out both hands. “Come here, Sebastian.”

  He hunkered down in front of her chair, taking her damaged fingers in his. “I’ll make this right, Francine.”

  “I want you to keep searching for me, because you never know, something might pop up. Some big new breakthrough. But I’m not disap
pointed, and neither should you be.”

  Charlie’s heart broke watching them, this big, beautiful man down on one knee with an old woman who’d been forgotten by everyone except her daughter. And now Sebastian.

  “I need to help you,” he said, his voice raw with the emotion he’d been trying so hard to hide.

  “You are helping me.” She put her hand on his cheek. “You take time out of your busy life to visit me. And Charlie told me how you’ll help us with Magnolia Gardens if we need it. I can’t thank you enough for that. Best of all, you make my daughter happy. How can I ask for anything more?”

  “Oh, Francine, I love visiting you.” He glanced at Charlie, his eyes brimming with lingering sorrow and what looked like love. A love that had no bounds. “And your daughter makes me very happy too.”

  Charlie had to go to him then, bending down to press a soft kiss to his lips. As she drew away, he slid his free hand into her hair, held her close, kissing her back for a long, breathless moment.

  “Now that,” her mother said on a delighted laugh, “is a kiss!” Sebastian’s answering laugh wrapped around Charlie’s heart as Francine added, “What do you say we pack up my old kit bag and blow this popsicle stand?”

  The darkness hadn’t faded completely and tension still vibrated through him, but at least he was smiling when he said, “We’ll make like bananas and peel.” He offered both hands to Francine and slowly drew her to her feet before bending low to plant a kiss on her forehead.

  Charlie had started falling for him that very first day, but watching his tender handling of her mother made her love Sebastian with her whole heart and soul. Even if he never touched her again, never took her to heaven in his arms, never sold another piece of art for her, she would keep on loving him.

  Her love had nothing to do with his wealth or the success he’d created for himself—and everything to do with the man he was on the inside. The son who’d turned himself inside out for his parents, again and again, even against all hope. The man who steadied an old lady as she grabbed the handles of her walker. The friend who would do anything for the people he loved. The lover who made her feel more pleasure—and more cherished—than she’d ever believed possible.

  She’d never been in control of her feelings for him. She’d fallen in love with him the moment he’d stepped into her dusty shop wearing his perfect suit and called her junkyard a garden. Though she couldn’t be certain that he wouldn’t one day want to change her, she would risk everything for him. Even the parts of herself she knew would never fit in with the fancy society where Sebastian ruled as naturally as breathing.

  Her mother wheeled her walker into the hallway ahead of them, saying good-bye to all the friends she’d made at Shady Lane. Charlie put her hand on Sebastian’s arm to halt him for a moment before he lifted the suitcases. “I love you.”

  He went so still she wasn’t sure he was even breathing. Then he exhaled. “I...you...”

  She put a finger to his lips. “You did a wonderful thing today. Every day. I love you not just for trying so hard with my mother, but for everything. I’ve learned recently about the power of positive thinking,” she said with a grin. “So let’s not think about anything bad anymore, only the good stuff to come.”

  She leaned in to kiss him on the lips. Then, because she didn’t want him to feel as though he had to say the words back to her, she grabbed the carryall and turned to follow her mother, knowing he would be right there behind her, behind them.

  Always there for them.

  * * *

  I love you.

  Sebastian had just failed Charlie, failed her mother. Even with a billion dollars, he couldn’t fix this, couldn’t make things better for Francine.

  Yet—amazingly—Charlie loved him anyway.

  No one had ever loved him for his failures and it left him speechless. All he could do was follow the woman of his dreams out of the nursing home, her words playing like a musical refrain in his head.

  I love you. I love you. I love you.

  He wanted to grab Charlie, ask her if she really meant it. Ask her how she could love him when he hadn’t come through for her mother. But with Francine watching them, a knowing smile on her face, he simply stowed her belongings in the spacious trunk of his luxury vehicle and helped her into the front seat like a queen.

  Once they arrived at Magnolia Gardens, she oohed and aahed over the front entry, the carpeted lobby lined with cushioned chairs, the lounge with sofas, card tables, and two big-screen TVs for movie nights, the dining room with white tablecloths and colored cloth napkins. “It’s just like a real restaurant,” Francine enthused.

  Sebastian barely noticed the details at first, given that his entire world had just shifted on its axis with three little words. Momentous words. Unbelievable words. When he finally focused on Francine’s new nursing home, he had to admit it was far better than Shady Lane. Magnolia Gardens was more like a large hotel complex than a nursing home. But it still wasn’t the Ritz. Francine didn’t seem to mind at all, however. She gasped at the beautiful flowers in the gardens and was near tears at the bouquet of roses he’d sent to her room.

  “You are such a dear boy, Sebastian.”

  Her living room featured a postage-stamp sized flat-panel TV and utilitarian furniture. The chairs seemed comfortable enough, though still institutional. French doors opened onto a balcony with a small table and a plastic chair.

  “I’ll bring you a nice new comforter for the bed, Mom. Something with a flower print.” Charlie unpacked the porcelain cups and plates, stowing them in a cabinet over a counter with a wet-bar sized sink and a dorm-room fridge. “And we’ll get an electric kettle for your tea.”

  Every time Charlie spoke, he could hear her saying it again. The very best thing anyone had ever said to him. I love you. And also, in many ways, the most unbelievable. It would be one thing if she’d said it when he’d landed her a new commission. But to say the words after he’d come up with nothing but blanks for her mother?

  Belatedly realizing that Francine was trying to sit in the chair, he hurried to help her into it. “Oh my. This is so wonderful.” She picked up a card that said they had free Wi-Fi for the residents and shook her head. “I’m overwhelmed.”

  Yet Sebastian still wanted more for her. So much more.

  “Are you going to stay for dinner?” she asked brightly.

  “I would love to.” He wanted to see if the food was up to snuff. If it wasn’t, he’d have to consider how to break it to Charlie.

  After her meager belongings had been put away, they headed to the dining room. Francine stared goggle-eyed at the posted dining menu as though she’d never had a choice between grilled tilapia and Irish stew before. They parked her walker outside the dining room in a long line of wheeled conveyances, and Sebastian ushered her in on his arm. At the buffet, Charlie put a little of everything on Francine’s plate. In addition to hot food in warming trays, the salad bar sported an impressive array of cut vegetables, and along the back wall, various desserts decorated the countertop. When Charlie wasn’t visiting, a waiter would assemble Francine’s meal for her.

  “If you don’t feel like eating the buffet,” Charlie said once she returned to the table, “you can order off this standard menu.” She held up a small display stand. “Fish and chips. Crab cakes. Grilled ham and cheese. Hamburger. Garden burger. And steamed broccoli.”

  “Oh, I love broccoli.” Francine daintily attacked the Irish stew. “Mmm. Very good.”

  It wasn’t filet mignon. It wasn’t even gourmet. But thankfully, it wasn’t plastic cafeteria food either.

  “Isn’t this marvelous, Sebastian?”

  Francine damn near glowed, and it really hit home what her life had been like at Shady Lane. Both Francine and Charlie were so delighted and excited. Was he jaded by five-star hotels and first-rate service? Or was he just trying to make up for not being able to cure Francine of her illness?

  Under the table, he put his hand on Charlie’s thigh. Tho
ugh he’d tried to hold back while they were with Francine—he didn’t want the dear lady to think he was always pawing her daughter—he had to touch Charlie, craving the connection, brief as it was. She laid her fingers over his, keeping him close for a moment. Nowhere near long enough. Forever wouldn’t be long enough.

  They were on to dessert when Francine asked Charlie, “How are your class plans coming together for the fall? Any new, exciting projects on tap?”

  Charlie suddenly became engrossed in stirring her coffee. But he was glad Francine had asked. He’d been wondering the same thing. Charlie hadn’t mentioned her classes in a while. Was she planning to teach again this fall or take a quarter off while she worked on new commissions? The last thing he wanted was for her to wear herself down.

  “I’ve been so busy with the chariot and horses that I haven’t really had time to think much about my teaching schedule.”

  Francine turned her bright gaze to Sebastian. “I’ve sat in on her classes several times and she’s such a gifted teacher. She always describes what her students need to do in such clear terms that even I was tempted to pick up a welding torch. Her students absolutely love her. But I’m sure you understand that, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” He couldn’t take his eyes off Charlie, couldn’t even begin to hide what he felt for her. “She’s very easy to love.”

  Francine beamed at the two of them while Charlie flushed at the compliments. “She certainly is.”

  A short while later, they said their good-byes, leaving Francine sitting happily in the lounge meeting other residents and already making new friends. Sebastian and Charlie were still in the middle of the parking lot when he crowded her up against a parked car, cupped her face in his hands, and bent to take her mouth.

  She tasted sweet and fresh and perfect. More perfect than anything he’d ever known, anything he’d ever dreamed of. His heart beat in a wild frenzy of need—and love. Endless, boundless love. Her lips parted beneath his on a cry of pleasure, then his gentle kiss turned savage. Possessive. So damned erotic that they could have started a fire right there in public.