“And?” Carlyn asked.
“Well.” She knew a thing or two about families and money. Hers had plenty of it, but unless she shrank down to a size four and bowed to their every commanding wish, she wouldn’t see a penny. Fine with her. At least this way, she was spared the constant nagging. “I’ve never heard him talk about his parents.”
“Because you rarely talk with him,” Sara replied. “Usually when someone likes another person, they talk to them. Maybe even flirt with them. Ignoring Sebastian like the plague won’t get you anywhere.”
“He’s gorgeous.” And while she wasn’t chopped liver, she knew her limits. He was dream material, not reality.
“And?” Carlyn flipped her blond hair over a shoulder.
“And you sound like a broken record.” Neither of her friends would understand. Carlyn was the ultimate bombshell, a brainy Marilyn Monroe. Sara’s ebony hair and pale blue eyes made her a standout wherever they went. “It’s not so easy, you know. Not for everybody.”
Carlyn slammed on the brakes, halting the car halfway up the drive. “We are not going in there if you are in the midst of a pity party.”
Ugh, she hated feeling depressed. “You’re right.” Gemma massaged her temples. “I’m sorry. Rosanna dropped by last night and I guess I haven’t recouped. Maybe you two would be better off without me.” A stupid reason, but she didn’t want to see Sebastian when she felt fat and clumsy.
“Absolutely not.” Carlyn took her foot off the brake, and the car moved forward. “You are coming with us. Damn it, if I didn’t love you so much, I swear I’d strangle your stepmom. Why do you even talk to her anyway?”
“With my dad gone, I’m all she’s got. Besides, she means well,” Gemma said with a small degree of uncertainty. Rosanna rarely thought before she acted.
Sara sighed. “I don’t know. I’m with Carlyn on this one. You’re five foot six and a size ten. Below average, mind you. I know you and she think she means well, but I’m not convinced.”
“You’re right, I know.” Lately, she questioned Rosanna’s intentions. “Besides, I am somewhat in the mood to dance.”
“What the hell?” Carlyn leaned toward the windshield again. “I’ll be damned.”
“What is it?” Sara asked.
Up ahead, three males surrounded Sebastian and another male. This wouldn’t usually concern Gemma but the red streak across Sebastian’s shirt did. “Is that blood on Sebastian?”
Carlyn frowned. “I don’t see him as the fighting type.”
“Not usually,” Sara said.
Yet it became quite obvious Sebastian and the largest of the males were not on friendly terms. Gemma balled her hands into fists as Carlyn stopped the car. Every muscle in her tensed as the dark-haired male rushed Sebastian. Their bodies connected, but Sebastian twisted, pushing him into the bushes.
Pulled by instinct, fear or plain insanity, Gemma couldn’t open the passenger side of the car fast enough. She ran toward the fight. Three other men stood watching as Sebastian and his attacker wrestled between punches. Sebastian’s dominance soothed her nerves. He ducked his attacker’s fist and landed a hook to the side of the man’s face.
As she neared, Sebastian’s gaze registered surprise. Her chest fluttered for an instant, then clenched as his attacker’s fist connected with his face, knocking him off balance.
“No.” Gemma fell to the ground beside him.
A thick arm wrapped around her neck, hoisting her up and away before she could touch Sebastian. She stumbled, losing her footing as she clawed away the pressure preventing her from breathing.
“Take your hands off her or I will rip you to shreds.” Sebastian stood in front of her, chest heaving, eyes burning with fury.
Chapter 2
“What the hell is going on here?” Armando Reyes boomed from behind Sebastian.
Victor released Gemma and stepped back.
Nothing could have deflated Sebastian’s anger more than her widened, fear-filled eyes. She shook slightly. He unclenched his fists, took a deep breath. “It’s okay.” He searched out her gaze.
She nodded, turned away as Carlyn came beside her and placed a hand on her lower back.
“Sebastian?” His father’s tone held a note of impatience.
“Nothing, Father. Victor was leaving.” He met the other demon’s angry glare then faced his father. “The party is not to his liking.”
Armando stood beyond the terrace railing, navy suit impeccable, dark hair gelled back into place. His right eye twitched, a telltale sign he was unhappy. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He dropped his gaze to Sebastian’s torn, bloody shirt. “Have you another shirt?”
“I do.”
“Good. Meet me in my office wearing it. I’d like to speak to you.” He turned and exited the terrace.
Gemma stood off to the side with Carlyn and Sara. Streaks of dirt marred her light peach cardigan and matching dress.
“Are you okay?” Sebastian asked.
“Yes.” She dusted off her dress and narrowed her gaze at Victor while stepping closer to him. “He looks bitter.”
The demon’s bloody nose and lip gave Sebastian some measure of satisfaction, though not enough. “He probably is.”
“Forget about him.” Nikolai grabbed his arm. “He isn’t worth it. Especially not after calling me a guard dog.”
As if on cue, two security guards escorted Victor and his companions off the property.
“I can get a first aid kit or accompany you to the hospital.” Sebastian pulled down his sleeves as he spoke to Gemma.
“That won’t be necessary,” she said. “I’m fine. Really.”
“I’m sorry you ladies witnessed that.” He forced a smile he didn’t feel and avoided her gaze. He hated that he got nervous around Gemma. He didn’t usually have trouble with women. “If we haven’t convinced you to run as far away as possible, I invite you to make yourself at home. My friend Nikolai can show you around back, where the rest of the guests are. I’ll join you shortly.”
The three women looked at each other. He held his breath.
“That would be nice,” Sara said.
He nodded and turned toward Nikolai. “Would you do me the favor?”
“Sure.” Nikolai frowned at him then asked the women to follow him. His friend had questions but wouldn’t push him in front of guests, especially human guests.
He’d fill Nikolai in later, although he couldn’t explain his emotions. He hadn’t expected Gemma’s reaction, though he wouldn’t deny it pleased him. He climbed the steps of the terrace. His father couldn’t be avoided.
* * * *
Freshly showered and dressed in clean clothes, Sebastian entered his father’s office. The scent of cigars and books permeated the air.
Behind his huge antique desk, Armando Reyes sat in a leather swivel chair, staring at the estate’s expansive gardens, back to him. “You kept me waiting,” he said.
“I needed a shower.” More to collect his thoughts than get clean, but his father didn’t need an explanation. Sebastian sat in a burgundy, plush chair in front of the desk. “So what is it you wanted to talk to me about?”
“What do you think?” His father faced him. “I leave the party I am hosting and find my thirty-year-old son fighting with a bunch of riff-raff instead of toasting history-making legislation. I’ve sat here for half an hour, trying to figure out what to do. What is it you want, Sebastian?”
“Why bother asking, Father? You don’t care.”
“Try me.”
He ached to tell him the truth about the dance studio, but Father wouldn’t understand. Perhaps he could remind him. “Do you remember Saturdays when Mom was alive, before she got sick?”
Father’s brow creased. “Movie Saturdays?”
“Yeah. We’d go to a matinee, have dinner somewhere nice and then the three of us would come back and dance to jazz. Mom knew all the greats, Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, Louis Armstrong, John Coltrane, Miles Davis—”
&
nbsp; “Where are you going with this?”
Sebastian sighed. A framed picture of his father, mother and him, sat on a bookshelf across the room. “We were happy.”
“Nothing lasts forever.” His father rose and strode over to the windows behind him. The back lawns glowed with strings of ivory lights. “More reason for you to avoid too much exposure to humans.”
If only he could make his father see what he saw. “You could be happy again. If you’d go back to healing. It was what you loved.”
“Don’t push it.”
“Admit it. You were happy. Mom was happy.”
His father faced him, eyes steely. “You’re crossing the line. I won’t warn you again.”
“Before you do what? Cut me off? Please do. Besides, if you’re so concerned about me hanging around with humans, why are we toasting their acceptance of demons?”
“It’s one thing to coexist in peace but getting involved with them will only end up disappointing you.”
Heat flooded his face. His father let bitterness consume him. “Mom never disappointed me.”
“We’re not talking about your mother here.”
“Yeah, I know. We never talk about her.”
“Sebastian, not this same old argument. I want you to grow up, be responsible—”
His father didn’t know the meaning of responsible, at least not when it came to raising his son. “You know what, spare me the lecture. That’s not what you want. I know what you want and I refuse to be you. I won’t hide from my past and my future. I want to live. I want more. Perhaps it’s time I come to grips with the fact you and I will never see eye to eye.” Without waiting for a response, Sebastian left the room.
Outside, he strolled to where Gemma, Carlyn and Sara stood staring out at the estate’s gardens. His father’s secretary had gone all out with autumn themed centerpieces on the tables and more lights woven through the hedges.
Seeming unaware of him approaching, Gemma slipped a clip through her hair and adjusted her cardigan. The movements were measured and somewhat self-conscious. She was beautiful and clearly didn’t realize it.
“I’m glad my actions didn’t scare you ladies off,” he said, meeting Gemma’s gaze. “Not exactly my best behavior.” He held out a hand to her. “May I have this dance? After what I caused, a free lesson is the least I can do.”
She hesitated then slipped her hand into his. “All right.”
“Sebastian, you and I have not finished our conversation.” His father stood along a railing of the terrace overlooking the gardens.
“Damn.” He should have expected Father wouldn’t accept him having the final say, yet he’d hoped he would leave it alone for tonight. “There is nothing left to discuss,” he said, holding Gemma’s hand firmly. Tension came from her in waves but he wouldn’t let his father drive her away, not without a fight. He tugged her closer. “Please, stay.”
“If you think I’ll sit by and watch you throw away everything, you’ve got another thing coming.” His father’s dark gaze lingered on Gemma. “You’re better than that.”
Sebastian pressed his lips together. The pointed remark pushed him past his breaking point. He returned his father’s stare. “I won’t say I agree with the stance Grandfather took, but history shows he didn’t have much luck convincing you of that once upon a time.”
“I behaved young and foolishly, much like you.”
His father basically had wished away his only son’s existence. Who was he kidding? Father would never understand him. Any passion for what life could bring had died with Mom. “Then you should know I need to figure out life on my own.”
“Don’t be stupid. Why repeat my mistakes?”
“Stupid? First I’m irresponsible and now I’m stupid? What you don’t understand is I don’t see them as mistakes. I take no issue with them and they define me as much as my achievements do.”
“I’m telling you, it’s not worth the trouble.”
“I don’t know about that.” He turned and slipped a hand around the back of Gemma’s neck, leaned in and kissed her. He’d meant it to be rough and angry and short, but she responded, taking him off guard. He lost himself in the kiss, deepening it then reluctantly pulling away. The sleepy, stunned look in Gemma’s eyes mirrored how he felt. He forced himself to face his father. “I’d say she’s damn well worth it.”
* * * *
Gemma couldn’t believe Sebastian had kissed her. Not the soft, romantic kiss she’d always imagined, but a raw, sensual one in a crowded garden full of his father’s houseguests.
Mr. Reyes gripped the railing so hard, his knuckles turned white.
She closed her eyes as hot fingers of shame crawled up her neck. Whispers erupted around them and intermingled with the strums of music.
Sebastian inched toward her. “Gemma, I—”
She backed away and swung her right hand, connecting with his left cheek. The slap vibrated through her. Her reaction shocked her, yet fury and humiliation still burned. “Next time I’m to audition for your flavor of the week, I’d prefer advanced notice.”
“It wasn’t my intention to hurt you.” Sebastian didn’t face her.
“I’m not some pawn you can use.” She was tired of people seeing her as weak.
Carlyn stepped back. “I think I’ll go get the car.”
“Probably a good idea,” Sara said.
“Please.” Sebastian seized Gemma’s arm. “Let me explain.”
She shook her head. He clearly had unfinished business with Mr. Reyes, and she wasn’t about to intervene. “I think it best you get back to your guests.”
“Sebastian,” Mr. Reyes called.
“Not now, Father.” Frowning, he stepped in front of her, said to her, “I’m not here for them.”
“Please.” Gemma met his gaze, hoping he’d sense her pleading with him.
He nodded and bowed his head.
“Thank you.” She hurried past him toward the front drive.
Sara quickened her pace to keep up. “Are you okay?”
“A bit embarrassed. I’ll eventually get over it. I always do.”
“You shouldn’t be embarrassed.”
How could she not be? “Everyone was staring.”
“I’m sorry this happened,” Sara said. “Despite your attraction, I know that wasn’t exactly the kiss you were hoping for.”
“No.” She slid a finger along her bottom lip. It still tingled from their kiss. “That’s part of the problem. It was exactly the type of kiss I wanted. What makes it hard is I know he didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I don’t know.” Sara paused. “If you ask me, I think his argument was an excuse to kiss you. I’m not sure he realized that, but I think he surprised himself.”
Gemma smiled. “You’re also my friend, cheering me up.”
“Of course.” Sara laughed. They’d reached Carlyn’s Civic. “Still, I’d never lie to you either so I meant what I said.”
“I know.” She hesitated in admitting it, but she’d felt something more from Sebastian as well.
“Then if something starts between you two, you’ll go with it? You’ll let it happen?”
“Perhaps,” Gemma said, pulled open the front passenger door and got into Carlyn’s car. An easy answer, but what she didn’t say was, she wasn’t quite sure her heart would give her a choice.
Chapter 3
Gemma wore slim cut pants. Not a big deal for your average supermodel, but for her, slim cut pants were a major breakthrough. As she entered the quaint neighborhood bistro, she lifted her chin and steeled her resolve to be confident in herself and her abilities.
Her stepmom waved her over to a table for two. “Hi, darling. I took the liberty of ordering you an Insalata Mista. I know how you watch your figure.”
Gemma smiled. Every other Monday, she indulged Rosanna with a chitchat lunch, which usually turned into a ninety-minute torture session. Today, they’d chosen Italian, meaning she would order a rich, creamy something and due
to her attempt at a good mood, ignore everything cruel her stepmom said. “Thank you. That would be a great starter.”
“You look great. Have you done something different with your hair or… I’m not sure, you just look nice.”
Stop the presses! Had Rosanna given her a compliment? “Thank you. I haven’t worn these pants before.”
“Oh.” Eyes wide, Rosanna pursed her cherry-red lips.
“Are you ladies ready to order?” A petite waitress with black ringlets stood next to their table.
“Sure,” Gemma said. “I’ll have the Farfalle Prosciutto e Funghi along with a glass of Chardonnay.” Anything with cream and mushrooms had to be good.
The waitress smiled. “My favorite dish. And you ma’am?” she asked Rosanna.
“I’ll have the spinach salad, but could you hold the cheese?” She glanced down at the menu, absently tugging the gold chain around her neck. “Also, I’d rather have your house vinaigrette on the side instead of the creamy parmesan dressing.”
“Sure.” The waitress nodded. “Anything else?”
“No, just make it quick as I need to be back at work soon,” Rosanna replied, handed her menu to the waitress and met Gemma’s gaze. “You’re certainly splurging today. You don’t want to go overboard. There’s got to be gazillions of calories in those cream sauces.”
So much for the compliments. She couldn’t expect too much from Rosanna. “I did a spin class at the gym today.”
“Still.”
Would nothing satisfy her? She cleared her throat. “How is work today?”
Rosanna’s dark eyes lit up. “Oh my God. You remember how I told you a new owner bought our company about a month ago?”
The waitress set a small salad in front of her. Gemma picked up her fork and pierced a slice of cucumber. “I sort of remember. Why, did something happen?”
“The new owner came into the office today. He’s handsome and rich.”
“Oh.” Gemma bit into a tomato. “You should talk to him.”
“I did.” Rosanna smiled. “I told him about you. He arrived for one of our clothing line launches and brought his son. Actually, his son does freelance photography. Anyway.” She waved. “His son is even better looking than he is. He was hanging out with the models and I knew you wouldn’t want competition. Besides, I believe he is engaged to one of the models.”
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