Using the short time alone to compose herself, Mariss caught her reflection in the shiny surface of the elevator wall. Her hair was disheveled and her face red and puffy from the tears. But her eyes, they were wild with fear, anger, and lust. Even after everything, she still lusted after Sebastian. She deserved to be punished if she couldn't control herself better.
Lashing out, Mariss struck her reflection with an open palm. When it didn't change, she struck it again and again until the only thing left in her face was a wild fury. She needed to do something. After a week of immobilizing sadness, she needed to do something.
The doors opened, and Mariss flew out of the car, making a beeline for the front door. She hailed a taxi with no idea where she wanted to go. Mariss knew Brit was only trying to look out for her, but she needed a little less caring and a little more understanding. As she was about to climb into the cab, she caught Sebastian's reflection in the window.
“Mariss, wait.”
She heaved a heavy sigh and turned. Sebastian frowned at her with his hands in his pockets, a sure sign that he was fighting to control whatever emotion had his face all balled up like that.
“Leave me alone, Sebastian,” she said. “Please. Haven't you figure it out by now? You just make things worse.”
“I highly doubt that. I can't let you leave here like this, Mariss. Come back inside. You can stay in the guest room. I'll send Mindy to get your things from the hotel.”
Mariss shook her head, feeling defeated. Sebastian set his jaw and she knew she wasn't going to leave this place tonight. Not because she wanted to stay, but because he wouldn't let her leave.
A light drizzle started and thunder clapped in the distance. “I can't stay,” she told him. “I can't.”
Sebastian didn't say anything. He handed the cab driver a fifty dollar bill and sent him on his way.
Mariss frowned as it started to rain harded. “Why did you do that?”
“I told you, you're staying here tonight. That's the end of the discussion.”
“You have no authority over me, Sebastian. You don't get to make those choices for me.”
“Come inside, Mariss.” When he reached for her to calm her down, Mariss slapped his hands away.
Sebastian blinked at her, his eyes full of shock and warning.
“Don't touch me,” she growled. “I'm not coming inside.”
“You are if I have to drag you inside myself.”
“No.”
Sebastian shrugged, like he hadn't a care in the world, and closed the space between them. His arms closed tight around her. Warm and inviting, they just made Mariss react harder. She fought him with every ounce of strength she had, but with her arms pinned to her sides it was a one-sided fight.
“With his dying breath, your husband charged me with your care, and I intend to keep my promise. Mariss, I…”
Mariss went limp in against his chest as sobs wracked her body. Tears mingled with the falling rain and she sobbed against him. Sebastian clung to her, holding her tight. Her hands fisted in his soaked shirt when her knees gave out.
“I can't go,” she cried. “How can I go alone?” That was the real problem, the one she didn't want to admit because she didn't want anyone to know how badly she really needed her husband.
“What are you talking about, sweetheart?” he asked.
“The funeral is tomorrow and Holden isn't here to go with me. How am I supposed to go alone?”
“You don't have to go alone.”
Mariss sniffed and sobbed. Pain set every inch of her body on fire in the worst way, but where Sebastian's body pressed to hers she felt warmth and life.
Eventually, Sebastian pulled her inside out of the rain and took her back up to his apartment. The tea kettle no longer sang on the stove. It had been removed and poured into two mugs to steap.
“You poured tea before you ran down after me?”
Sebastian shrugged and handed her a mug. “I'm British,” was all he said.
Mariss blew on her tea and took a sip without adding sugar. The strong flavor soothed her nerves. They stood there in the kitchen without speaking as they drank their tea together. She felt Sebastian's eyes on her, but she ignored him and fought to keep her mind from anything that would make her cry again.
“Mariss, have you slept at all?”
She shook her head. “I can't do anything but sleep, but it's never restful. Brit banned me from the office since they found me sleeping there again this morning. I don't want to go back to the apartment.”
“You're going to have to eventually, Red.”
She nodded. “I know, but I can't yet.” The words came out softer than she'd meant for them to.
“You can stay here, then. In the guest room,” Sebastian added, as if he knew she would protest sleeping with him. “You have to sleep and I'm not in the mood to take no for an answer.”
Mariss nodded and finished off her tea. “I'll tell you no in the morning, then.” She stood to leave.
“Mariss.”
She stopped in the doorway, not sure what to expect from him.
“Have you eaten?”
Mariss closed her eyes against more tears. “No. I can't stomach anything. It all tastes like dirt.”
“Very well. I'll send Mindy to get your things and your dress for tomorrow. In the meantime, I'll get you some clothes to put on so you can get out of those wet things.”
She nodded. “I'm just going to get in the shower.”
“Alright.”
“May I use your shower?” Mariss didn't know why she asked, or why it even mattered, but the words were out before she could stop them.
“Certainly.” His amusement was not lost on her. Mariss marched from the room and across the foyer to his bedroom.
In the bathroom, she stripped out of her wet clothes and dropped them in a heap on the floor. Once she had the water hot, Mariss stepped in. It was scalding against her freezing skin, but felt good against her scalp. As she stood there, she felt the tension ebb from her, leaving her exhausted and weak. Mariss sank to the floor of the shower. Reaching for the bottle of bodywash, she popped it open. The cinnamon scent that was Sebastian wafted through the bathroom and made her body clench low in forbidden places.
She and Sebastian had made love here in this shower for the first time several months ago. Wracked with guilt, Mariss closed the bottle and let the hot water pound on her head.
Sebastian found her half an hour later, too exhausted to move on her own. He lifted her into his arms, soaking wet hair and everything, and started to carry her to the guest room.
“I don't want to be alone,” she moaned. Mariss pressed her face into his warm neck. “Please. I have nightmares. I keep seeing him coughing up blood, dying in front of me.”
“Very well. Let me dry your hair first, at least.”
“It'll be a mess in the morning.”
“That's alright. I'll have Mindy get your hair products and have someone here in the morning to take care of it for you.”
That sounded like a good idea, though Mariss wasn't completely sure why. Sebastian set her on the edge of the bed and used a towel to pat her hair dry. When wet, it shrank up into tight, corkscrew curls that irritated the hell out of her. Even in her half-asleep state, Mariss worried that sleeping on her wet, curly hair would only cause problems for her and whoever Sebastian got to do it in the morning.
Mariss didn't remember when Sebastian finished drying her hair. She drifted in and out of sleep for a while, until Sebastian got into bed with her.
CHAPTER TEN
HULK BARBIE
Light streamed through the window the next morning, waking Mariss from a deep sleep and leaving her feeling groggy and dry. Her eyes burned and her mouth felt like cotton. A headache pounded behind her eyes. She rolled over and pressed her face into the pillow, only to find that Sebastian wasn't there. That was probably for the best. She hated herself a little more for caving in and sleeping in his bed. With him in it. But an empty
bed was so lonely.
Sebastian walked into the room looking magnificent in the pants and shirt of a suit. His hair was styled so that his longer waves fell across his forehead. His blue eyes glowed as he looked her over. Not in a sexual way, but the way you look over a child that almost got hit by a car.
“You look nice.” Mariss' voice was scratchy and thick with sleep. “Where are you going?”
Sebastian raised an eyebrow, but didn't answer. He opened his emaculately organized closet and brought out a tie hanger that held ties of every single color.
“Blue or black?” he asked her, fingering the end of a tie that perfectly matched the color of his extraordinary eyes.
“Black. You didn't answer my question. Where are you going?”
“To Holden's funeral. I told you last night that I would and I spoke with Brit this morning. She seemed quite adamant that I come with you. My life was threatened. I take that very seriously.”
Mariss stretched, ignoring the covers as they slipped down her body, uncovering her breasts. She knew Sebastian was staring, but she didn't bother to indulge him or give him the satisfaction of knowing that it got to her. Mariss threw one arm over her eyes, blocking him out.
“My stylist is in the spare room.”
Mariss sat up and pulled the sheet around her. “How bad is it?” she asked as she ruffled her hair.
Sebastian came to her and fingered the ends of her curls. His fingers got caught in the tangled mess and he chuckled. “It's pretty bad. She's good though.”
“She'll have to be.” Mariss took his hand away from her hair and folded her legs beneath her.
“Your clothes are here,” Sebastian said, turning away. “Brenda, my current, will be by in a little while. I won't have sex with her while you're here.”
Mariss sneered. “Do what you've got to do.”
“That would be inconsiderate, now wouldn't it?”
Sebastian put on his black vest and buttoned it up. The man could wear suits and look more delicious clothed than naked, and that was saying a lot. Mariss dragged her gaze away from him to pull on a pair of panties and her bra. She was slipping into a t-shirt when the doorbell rang.
Sebastian left without a word. Mariss put on her yoga pants and slipped across the hall to the spare room without being seen. She didn't think she was ready to see who Sebastian's “current” was.
The stylist, Elise, was one Mariss had met before in London on a shoot. The day she realized that Sebastian had set his sights on her with no intention of letting her go.
“Hello,” Elise said. If she recognized Mariss, she didn't show it. “Ah, I see we have a bit of work to do,” she said with a smile as she inspected Mariss' beadhead.
Mariss gave her a rueful smile of her own and sat in the chair provided.
“You just want me to straighten it, or do you want to wash it as well?”
“It's not really dirty.”
Elise's hands and brush started to work their magic. Mariss relaxed into the chair, wishing she could go back to sleep.
“Sebastian told me not to say anything, but I just wanted to offer my condolences. I know what you're going through.”
There was a hint of sadness in her voice and Mariss knew that she really did understand.
“I also know how persuasive Sebastian's charms can be. He's not an easy man to say no to. If you need someone to talk to, someone who really understands what you're feeling, I'm here to talk.”
Mariss fumbled with her hands in her lap. “He told you about…that?”
“I deduced from what he told me. Quite honestly, he's never kept anyone around as long as he has you. I'm only still around because of my job. Believe me when I say, he was crushed last night when he called me. I don't know what he feels for you, but I know he feels something.”
Mariss shook her head. “I can't.” Something lodged itself in her throat, threatening to suffocate her.
“I know. But when you can…” Elise left the sentence hanging.
That was way more than Mariss wanted to think about just yet.
The door to the room opened and an older woman pushed inside. Her medically perfected face was red and furious, her unnatural eyes flashed a blue similar to Sebastians, obviously contacts. She was ridiculously thin and frail-looking with hair the perfect blonde that came from a bottle. Whoever did her hair for her probably cost more than Elise.
“Brenda, I presume?” Mariss asked as she fought to keep from laughing. The woman was easily Sebastian's mother's age. She knew, of course, that he wasn't above sleeping with anyone, but this woman was not what she'd expected. Someone more like Nora, perhaps, or Elise maybe. Even one of his supermodel friends would have been better than Brenda.
“You slept here last night?” Brenda tapped her toe against the carpet.
Mariss nodded slowly. Elise continued to pull the brush through her thick curls, expertly working out the tangles.
“Where did you sleep?” Brenda challenged. She tipped her chin up and folded her toned, yet wrinkling arms over her fake, perky breasts. Real C cups didn't sit up like that naturally.
Mariss raised an eyebrow. “I slept in here, of course.”
“Her clothes are in the closet,” Elise offered.
Mariss didn't know if that was true or not, but Brenda went to look. Craning her neck, Mariss peered behind her. Sure enough, the clothes and bags from the hotel had been washed and placed neatly on the floor in the closet.
“What is this for?” Brenda asked, yanking on a garment bag.
“That's my dress for my husband's funeral today.” Warning dripped from her tone. “If you rip it, I promise, you will regret it.” Mariss let any semblance of tollerance fade from her eyes.
“You sound like Sebastian.” Brenda folded her arms again, shifting her weight to one hip in a stance that would have been dramatic if she had any hips to begin with.
“That's enough, Brenda. If you're going to cause trouble, you can leave.” Sebastian came into the room with his don't-mess-with-me face on. His eyes burned with supressed annoyance and Mariss wondered what Brenda might have said to him before she burst into the room.
“Leave them to get ready. Come on.” He held his hand out to her and Brenda went, wrapping herself around him. Mariss fought not to roll her eyes.
“Is that why you're all dressed up?” Brenda pouted. “You're going to the funeral with her?”
Brenda's feigned ignorance irked Mariss. If Sebastian didn't get her out of the room soon, she was pretty sure she might blow a gasket. The woman knew that Sebastian's conquests were simply that. The more she clung to him, the faster he would lose interest in her.
Not that Mariss cared.
“Yes. In light of what's happened, I offered to help her through this trying day. It's the least I can do for a friend. Let's leave them alone now.”
Sebastian all but shoved Brenda out of the room. As he left, he gave Mariss a cheeky little wink and closed the door.
“She's old enough to be his mother, isn't she?” Elise asked, her voice conveying her confusion.
Mariss giggled. “That's what I was thinking.”
“Good grief.” Elise ran some product through Mariss' hair. “That's not his usual type, though she is pretty. I wonder what her story is.”
“What do you mean?” Mariss asked.
“We all have a story. Not always a good one,” she added as she clipped the mass of curls-turned-frizz on top of Mariss' head and reached for her straightener. “I flirted with Sebastian during a few shoots before I ever slept with him. I didn't intend for anything to happen. I just wanted to feel him out, be able to tell my friends that he'd flirted back with me, you know? Take home a few pictures, make the hubby jealous. You know what made me actually do it?” She pulled the straightener through her hair, filling the air with the acrid stench of burnt hair. “I had a fight with my husband. I don't even remember what it was about, but to get back at him for whatever, I had sex with Sebastian. With someone as old as
her, it's gotta be that her husband is cheating on her with a younger woman. What's her name anyway?”
Mariss chuckled. “Oh, you mean you-won't-like-me-when-I'm-angry Barbie? Her name is Brenda.”
“Hulk Barbie,” Elise laughed.
“I don't know her, but I'm sure she'll tell me all about her life eventually.”
Mariss heard the bitterness in her own tone. She refused to be jealous of Brenda. She had too much going for her to turn into a bitter old bitty.
She inspected her manicured nails. “Sebastian just kind of wore me down,” Mariss said.
“You don't have to tell me-”
“I told him I couldn't control myself around him,” she said, pretending she hadn't heard. She needed to tell the story to someone who really understood. Brit and Juliet were supportive, but Elise understood. “I begged him to leave me alone, but in the end…” Mariss thought back. What was it that had finally clicked into place? Why had she finally given herself to him in a way she'd only ever given herself to her husband? “In the end, neither one of us could control it. There's too much there. We could fight it, I suppose. We could cut ties completely. I could give up everything I've made for myself in an attempt to stay away from him. Get a cabin in the woods and live like a mountain man.”
Elise snorted. “You're too pretty to be a mountain man.” She ran the straightener through Mariss' hair. Steam and smoke rose into the air.
“I don't think either one of us wants that though.”
“He's different with you,” Elise agreed. “He cares about you. He called you his friend. No one gets that priviledge. He doesn't give that to anyone. Hellena, yes. He knew her a long time, but he gave her up for you.”
“She tried to hurt me.”
“I didn't know that. All I know is Hellena was his only friend and she's gone. I heard he took you to meet his mother.”
Mariss half smiled. “Yeah. His mother is just as much fun as he is.”
“Hellena never met his mother.”
Mariss let that digest. “What's up with Hellena, anyway? She doesn't work at the club anymore?”
The Red Wife Page 10