‘This is all part of the service?’
The assistant smiled. ‘We like to take care of our valued customers.’
Goodness. He really must be spending up big.
She sat on the chair in the spacious changing room and held still for the ‘touch up’. Glancing into the mirror, she couldn’t believe the effects wrought after just a few dabs here and there. And the lipstick was just the shade.
‘You’ll want one to refresh later.’
‘Sure I will,’ Ana said. ‘Just add it to his bill.’
They bonded more over her high-heeled strappy sandals.
‘Some time today would be good.’ Seb’s voice came through the curtain.
‘Ignore him,’ Ana said sotto voce to the assistant. ‘I do.’
It was another full ten minutes to get finished and then summon the confidence to exit the room. She couldn’t bear to wait for his reaction so went straight on the offensive.
‘What are you buying?’ She stared suspiciously at the tissue-wrapped somethings going into the big bag. There was already one full bag to the side of the counter.
‘Nothing.’ Evil grin in place. ‘Wedding present.’
‘You’re giving your father’s new wife frilly knickers?’
She moved closer to see them, still not looking at him, noticing instead how his hand had curled into a fist on the counter.
‘What did you do to your arm?’ The laugh in his voice had vanished.
‘Oh, nothing.’ Damn, he’d seen it through the wrap.
‘Nothing doesn’t need a plaster.’
It was the thinnest plaster she’d been able to find. But it was a big square—had to be, to cover her moment of lunacy. ‘All right.’ She breathed out and prayed for cool indifference. ‘I got a tattoo.’
‘What?’ He pushed the shawl back, his fingers gently lifting the edges of the tape. ‘When?’
‘On Mnemba.’
His fingers stopped. ‘Mnemba? I didn’t realise there was a Tattoo You on the island.’
‘Oh, yes. They had everything there. I got it on the last day when I went for that massage and you were swimming.’
‘A tattoo. Needles, Ana? In Africa?’ Now his fingers were gripping her too hard.
She rolled her eyes. ‘It’s henna, Seb. It’ll fade.’
Colour slashed his upper cheeks and she felt his harsh breath out. ‘So why are you covering it up, then?’ His fingers were back at work, carefully peeling the sticky tape.
She held back the wince and made her excuse. ‘It’s not exactly classy, is it, for your dad’s wedding?’
‘Dad’s wedding isn’t classy.’
He lifted off the plaster. Damn. She instinctively rubbed her arm, hoped by some miracle it would have faded in the last sixty minutes. But from the impenetrable mask that his face had just become, she knew she’d had no such luck.
They were a regular sideshow for the shop assistants, weren’t they? Discreet as those perfectly coiffed women were, they weren’t able to hide either their smiles or their interest. There was a long moment of silence during which all the indoor plants decorating the room grew an additional three inches from the heat radiating from her face.
Finally he spoke. ‘What does it stand for?’
‘South Africa.’
Their initials were entwined in the centre of some completely intricate swirling, flowery design that was in a sort of oval shape covering almost all of her upper arm.
‘You seem to have been misinformed—We weren’t in South Africa. We were in Tanzania.’
‘The girl did it,’ Ana mumbled—mortified. ‘It was her idea. The design.’ Oh, hell, this was too embarrassing. ‘They thought we were on our honeymoon.’
‘I told them we were,’ he said so softly she hardly heard. She was too busy trying to explain.
‘She’d done it before I knew. I…I thought it was just going to be a…a pretty pattern…’ Her feeble mutterings ceased as she felt his finger trace over the letters, following the swirls down her arm.
She looked at him; his smile had disappeared altogether.
‘I’ll put the bandage back on.’
‘Leave it.’
‘I have the wrap—it’ll cover it. It’s cold anyway. This dress is too short.’
‘The dress is stunning.’
She didn’t listen. Too busy staring where he was rubbing his hand over his jaw. ‘You’d better take your wedding band off. Why do you wear it?’
‘Because I’m Mr Married at work. Why didn’t you take yours off?’
‘I did. Months ago.’
‘Rubbish.’ He picked up her hand. ‘The tan mark is still there. I saw it days ago.’
‘I only had it on because the travel guides suggested it for women travelling alone.’ She snatched her fingers from his.
He made a sound that suspiciously sounded like a snort.
She glared at him. Forgot the assistants. Forgot everything but how close he was now. And he glared back. Then—as if he couldn’t help it—his gaze coasted down her body. She felt it like a caress.
He shook his head the tiniest fraction. ‘Your shoes are ridiculous.’
‘Too tall?’ There was only an inch between them now—both in height and distance. She could almost look him in the eye.
His arm snaked round her back, pulling her in tight. ‘No.’
She was flush against him. Could feel him. Oh-h-h, could she feel him.
‘Just about right.’ His mouth so nearly brushed hers.
But just as abruptly he turned and walked, pulling her quickly out of the store.
Ordinarily Ana would accuse someone moving this fast of being flustered. But Seb never got flustered. People stared as they moved through the departments. But then, they always stared at her. It was just a fact of life when you were taller than most men. But in this dress, these shoes and, yes, the lipstick, she felt a million dollars—all because of the passion she’d just seen in his eyes.
He wanted her. Badly.
So let them stare—she no longer cared.
OK, so maybe most of the stares from the women were aimed at him. And the smiles definitely were. He guided her through the store, gripping the thousand bags in his other hand. She was breathless. Totally turned on high. Definitely wanted to explore the hitherto unrealised potential of the shoes. Stand-up sex—they hadn’t done that on Mnemba. Amazing when she considered they’d done it just about every other way. A wave of pure eroticism trammelled through her. Fiercely she celebrated the freedom that came with the flush of that heat. She could be her own woman—in charge of her own body, her career, her assets and most of all her heart. She could handle him.
She got into the car. Strapped in and checked the mirrors, pulled into the line of traffic and relished the power beneath her fingers and feet.
She could feel Seb’s eyes on her, could see the sexy half-smile on his lips and the way he was turned towards her.
She glanced across to meet his eyes. ‘What?’
Despite his shave he still had an air of dissipation about him. And he spoke with the sort of sultry, hours-spent-in-bed tone that made her bones melt. ‘You suit being in the driver’s seat.’
Chapter Nine
ANA pulled up outside the venue—one of those all-in-one wedding venues. An ex-palace or something with beautiful gardens and old stone walls. She let the car idle.
‘Out you get. I’ll be back in three or so hours.’
Seb stared at her.
She smiled. ‘You didn’t really think I was going to crash your dad’s wedding, did you?’
He didn’t smile back. ‘If you don’t go in. I don’t go in.’ Utterly uncompromising.
‘Seb, this is for your father. This is just one of those things you have to do.’
‘You in or I don’t go.’
‘I can’t. I’m not invited.’
His expression didn’t alter. ‘I’m inviting you.’
‘Seb, I can’t go in. I can’t wear this.’ Sh
e inhaled—he didn’t get it, did he? ‘For heaven’s sake, Seb, I’m not wearing a bra.’
He threw his head back and laughed. ‘Oh, honey, I know.’ He laughed some more. ‘What’s the problem? You didn’t wear a bra once in Africa.’
‘That was different. I wore a bikini.’
‘Well, you just walked through one of the busiest stores in London in that outfit and everyone stared because you look so damn hot. Now get out of the car and let’s get this over with.’
Ana’s heart thudded. So damn hot? She felt it. When he looked at her like that she felt it. But this was awful. This was just awful. She’d only dressed up to prod him into going. She’d had no intention of actually going through with it.
He was looking her over, very thoroughly, from head to toe. ‘If you don’t get out of the car now, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.’
Sweating. It was a mid-winter, miserable London day and she was dissolving into a warm puddle. Ana pulled the key from the ignition and gave it to him to pocket. ‘We’re not in Africa now, Seb. Let’s go.’
Out of the car she positioned the wrap around her shoulders—aiming to cover both breasts and the tattoo. He waited on the footpath for her, then walked with his hand at her back as they went in. It was a far bigger do than she’d anticipated and she was ridiculously glad of her ‘touched up’ face and heels and designer dress. Even more glad of the wrap. People smiled at Sebastian, looked interestedly at her when he introduced her as his ‘friend’.
‘Darling!’
‘My mother,’ he muttered in her ear, quickly informing her as the woman rushed forward to greet them.
His mother was here? Wasn’t that awkward?
‘I haven’t seen you in months. What have you been doing? You’ve lost weight.’ She looked at Ana as if it were all her fault.
‘Mother, this is Ana. Ana, this is my mother, Lily.’
Ana smiled, pulled the shawl that little bit tighter around her arms. So this was her mother-in-law, huh? Good grief. This was total madness. But Sebastian had a twinkle in his eye and she just knew he was enjoying her awkwardness.
‘Sebastian, you’re doing the business for your father.’ Lily turned to her son.
‘Again,’ Seb drawled.
Ana gave him a look. ‘Don’t spoil it.’
His brows lifted and their gazes clashed. ‘I won’t.’
‘So, Ana,’ his mother said firmly, ‘you can come and sit next to me.’
Like a royal summons, the demand couldn’t be ignored. Ana sent Seb a terror look, which he countered with a grin that said she deserved it. She pulled her wrap closer around her so she didn’t give the woman an up-close view of her tattoo.
But in moments she forgot the discomfort as the ceremony got under way. It wasn’t tacky, the bride—who was definitely more than a couple of years older than Seb—did wear white, but it was a suit not a lace and sparkle-encrusted meringue. Their vows were simple, and their smiles were huge. Ana thought it was sweet.
And then she looked at the tall, dark-suited man standing beside his father. He was staring at her. And he wasn’t smiling. And as soon as the formal part was over he walked over to her.
‘They look really happy,’ she said, wishing he could find some joy in the occasion.
‘For a limited time only.’
‘You are so cynical.’
‘Why will this one last when the others didn’t? Second, third time round are even less likely to go the distance than first-timers.’
‘But some do, Seb.’ His stubborn disbelief annoyed her. ‘You’re so determined to think the worst, to expect the worst. It surprises me that a person as competitive as you should be so defeatist.’
He looked startled for a second but quickly covered it.
Well, if he wasn’t going to enjoy himself, she was. She nobbled a passing waiter and took a glass of champagne.
Seb finally smiled. ‘Taking advantage of the free booze?’
‘Isn’t that what weddings are for?’ Besides, she could do with a little Dutch courage.
‘Too right.’ He lifted a glass of juice from the waiter’s tray and winced. ‘Except I can’t face it.’
He couldn’t face the whole thing, could he? Heaven forbid these people actually made a commitment.
‘Good. You’ll be OK to drive and I can kick up my heels.’
‘Fantastic—you can warm up and lose the wrap.’
‘You’re not afraid I’ll make a spectacle of myself and embarrass you?’ some internal imp made her ask.
His gaze travelled over her slip of a dress. ‘I’m half hoping you will.’
Ana withstood the heat for a moment. They were flirting with danger again, weren’t they? But it was worth it to see him smile.
She turned away from him in time to see Seb’s mother embrace first her ex-husband and then the latest of her replacements. ‘I thought you said they were really bitter.’
‘They are. They just hide it under a layer of superficial niceness.’ He looked at her sardonically. ‘For my benefit, of course. They wouldn’t want to openly fight in front of the boy.’
‘Are they that bad? Or is it just you who’s so uncomfortable with the situation?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Look, Seb, I don’t blame you for being bitter. I don’t blame you for feeling hurt. But why won’t you give them a chance? You just refuse to believe in them, don’t you?’
‘There is no such thing as for ever, Ana,’ Seb said shortly. ‘Not ever. They’ve proved it enough times already and I don’t know why they bother continuing to try.’
Ana turned, unable to look at the harshness in his usually so handsome face, and stared at the fairy creature who’d appeared right in front of them.
She had blonde hair. Natural too, the cow, with bright blue eyes and make-you-blink white teeth shown to complete advantage in a wide, pretty smile.
Ana blinked, refocused and then tried not to stare with complete jealousy at the woman’s petite figure. She had the slightest shoulders, her tiny collarbones set off by a beautiful necklace that Ana just knew was a one-off collector’s piece. And she was short—slight enough for any man to scoop her into his arms with ease. So feminine. So lovely. So everything that Ana wasn’t.
‘Sebastian!’ The elf threw her slender arms around Seb’s neck. ‘So nice to see you!’
Ana saw his hands go around her waist. Figured she was so tiny he could probably touch his fingers and thumbs together in a complete circle. And in that lowcut top and slinky skirt? She had the ‘gorgeous slim socialite’ look down pat—was a complete, genuine beauty.
Ana felt the clumsy, gawky, overgrown teen inside her tear off her superficial layer of mature, confident adult. Suddenly she was sure that if she tried to take so much as a step she’d probably trip over, or bang into the corner of a table. That if she tried to talk it’d be some squeak of stupidity. That her feet were bigger than Ronald McDonald’s.
This girl was a flawless diamond, and Ana was an oversized lump of coal.
She didn’t even look at Ana. At least, not initially—not while she was busy leaning into him with the brilliant smile in place, utterly Miss Effervescent. Then she turned her head, still pressing into Seb, and subjected Ana to a totally different sort of smile. The sort that was still vivacious but that held none of the flirtation and all of the challenge. Oh, yes, the petite piranha had her teeth in and she wasn’t letting go.
‘Ana, this is Cassie. Cassie, Ana.’
Ana was surprised he could still speak given the way the woman had invaded every inch of his airspace.
‘Ana? How lovely to meet you!’
Oh, could she be more sparkly? Ana felt snark in every cell but she managed an almost smile and waited for her to let go of Seb.
She soon realised she was going to be waiting a long, long time.
‘It’s been too long, darling!’ Cassie was patting his chest—stroking, in fact. ‘You’ve been working too hard. You obviously
need to have some more fun.’ There was a flashing look beneath her lashes at Ana then—a flash of a knife. ‘When are we hitting the club scene again? Later tonight?’
And Seb, damn him, was smiling right back, his lazy charming smile, and he wasn’t stepping away from her full-frontal contact.
‘Not tonight, Cass. This wedding is enough excitement for one day.’
Ana watched the pout of disappointment and then the resurgence of that brilliant smile as Cassie tried to secure his company for another night. Was she an octopus? She had hands everywhere.
‘I’m sorry.’ Seb shook his head. ‘Will you excuse me? I have to go grimace for some photos.’ Seb finally put his hands on Cassie’s and removed them from where they seemed to be smoothing over his entire torso.
Photo call, huh? Ana was jealous—of that and a lot of other things right now. He’d better not be planning on leaving her with this predator.
‘You two have a lot in common.’ Seb actually managed to tear his gaze from the lovely blonde one and look at Ana. ‘Cassie loves accessories.’
Yeah, of the tall, dark and handsome variety. And he really was leaving her—walking off with a look of total, possibly evil, amusement. Ana stared after him, tossing an imaginary dagger or two into his back. Then she turned to face the ultimate in competition. She might as well roll over and surrender now.
‘Have you known Sebastian a while?’ The petite piranha was quick to skewer her with the smile and the questions.
‘Yes,’ Ana said carefully. ‘A little while.’
‘We go way back. We’re very close.’
Ana just bet they were. ‘How lovely.’
There was a moment when they smiled insincerely at each other.
‘You’ve a fabulous tan for this time of year,’ Cassie then commented. ‘Gosh, I just couldn’t go in the sun like that. I wouldn’t want to damage my skin.’
‘No? Shame.’ Ana smiled sweetly. ‘We’ve just got back from Africa.’ And it had been so worth the skin damage, darling, she added under her breath.
‘Africa?’ Cassie’s sharp eyes narrowed. ‘With Sebastian?’
‘Yes.’ Desperate to put this woman in her place, she couldn’t resist recklessly adding, ‘It was our honeymoon.’
To Love, Honour and Disobey Page 10