The Red Wife

by Tyffani Clark Kemp

  That admission made flutters scatter across her stomach. “So you think it's alright to say those horrible things to me and then drown me in crocodile tears?”

  “I told you I would make it up to you. Of course, now I owe Brit too. How shall I fix this?”

  “Oh, no.” Mariss shook her head and moved around the room to gather her things for the day. If she stayed away from him maybe she wouldn't be tempted to lay in bed with him all day. “You made this mess and dragged me into it with you, so you get to figure out a way to get yourself out. Alone.”

  “Very well. I'll see what she needs for the wedding.”

  Sebastian stood and gathered his shirt from where he'd laid it across the dresser. He turned to catch her staring.

  “What?” he asked as he pulled it over his head.

  Mariss shook her head. “You're far too experienced at this game for your own good.”

  He grinned that crooked grin that made her insides turn to jelly and her panties wet. By the way his lashes fell over his hooded eyes, he knew it too.

  “Am I being too self-aware for you, Mrs. Red?” he asked, his voice low and carnal.

  Mariss nodded more rigorously than she'd meant to. Sebastian closed the space between them. He didn't have to touch her. Just his heat and scent and closeness were enough to send her hormones into a frenzied clash into one another.

  “Why didn't you tell me about the wake?” she asked softly, letting him know it hurt.

  Mariss felt like she was standing at the edge of a volcano, ready to fall head over heels. Heat fanned her face and she knew her cheeks were flushed.

  “I didn't know about it until I got to the club.” Sebastian's hand snaked around her back and he pulled her close to him. “I can't think when you blush like that,” he whispered, his breath warm against the top of her head.

  Mariss heard his words, but she knew from his husky tone what he was really saying. He was no better than she. It was as close to an apology as she was ever going to get from him. She tipped her head back to look at him, only to find his lips so close to hers they should have been touching. A shiver of panic ran down her spine and blossomed through her chest until she had to pull in long, ragged breaths in order to breathe.

  Sebastian stepped back to give her some breathing room, but stayed close enough to help in case she needed it.

  “What's wrong?” he asked. “What do you need?”

  Mariss shook her head and bent over. She put her hands on her knees and fought against herself. Panic in her chest felt like her ribs were being pried apart and it quickly turned to a dull throb that preceded the darkness that threatened to take over.

  “Calm down, sweetheart. Brit!” Sebastian shouted.

  The door opened a moment later and Brit rushed in. Mariss couldn't see her face, but she knew the concern in her voice when she said, “Sit her down here on the bed and push her head between her knees.”

  The two of them guided Mariss over to the bed. The prone position did little to alleviate the pressure in her chest, but it helped her breathe. Mariss sucked in long breaths.

  “Slow down,” Brit commanded. “Try to breathe normal.”

  Mariss tried. For half an hour she struggled to get her breathing back to normal. Sebastian and Brit stayed with her the whole time. Brett brought her a glass of water once she was calm enough to drink it without choking.

  “Are you alright?” Brit asked when Mariss could finally speak. “What happened?”

  “Just me being me again,” Sebastian admitted. “I'll leave. You're welcome to come back to the flat tonight if you'd like. I'll be leaving early in the morning to fly to California.”

  Sebastian took her hand and lifted it to his lips. As he turned to leave, Mariss pulled him back.

  “I'm just not ready for that,” she told him. “Not yet.”

  Sebastian searched her eyes, and apparently found what he was looking for. He smirked. “I'll see you this evening.”

  Mariss nodded. She and Brit watched him leave.

  “I love to see that man go,” Brit sighed.

  “Give me the number for your wedding planner,” Mariss said.

  “What for?”

  “Sebastian is probably going to pay for something for you.”

  Brit took out her cell phone and started hitting buttons. “You tell him he can take care of the catering. You know what I like to eat. Speaking of the wedding.” Brit dropped her phone by her side and looked Mariss in the eyes. “Do you want me to find someone else to be my Maid of Honor? Because I totally can if it's too much for you right now.”

  Mariss shook her head, hurt making her heart pound. “No. Why would I want that?”

  “I just don't want you to be overwhelmed. I know that a wedding isn't going to be easy for you right now, so…”

  “If you replace me, I'll replace you,” Mariss said firmly.

  “I was hoping you'd say something like that. Come on to the kitchen. Brett made breakfast.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  SLICE N' DICE

  Mariss should have expected Sebastian to force her to ride with Brenda in his limo all the way to The Hamptons. Just the two of them. The driver shot up I-495, and the first half of the drive was relatively uneventful. Brenda was content to fuss with her hair and makeup while Mariss worked on a proof edit.

  “Why does he bring you along to everything?” Brenda eventually asked as she fluffed her hair again.

  Mariss shook her head. “Don't start. We're stuck in the car together for two hours, just leave it be.”

  “I don't want to leave it be. I want to know what's so special about you.”

  “Because Sebastian said I was. That's all either of us needs to know.”

  “I give him everything he could possibly want,” Brenda continued like she hadn't heard her, “and still I have to compete with young things like you.”

  Mariss had the feeling that she might not have been talking about Sebastian.

  “Well, there you go, then. I don't give Sebastian what Sebastian thinks he wants right when he says he wants it.”

  “How do you tell him no?” Brenda asked, like it was a foreign concept to her, and maybe it was.

  “I was married.”

  “But you're not anymore.”

  Mariss shot her a look that said she couldn't believe the woman was going there again, but Brenda didn't seem to catch it. Again.

  “No, he's dead, bitch.”

  Brenda glared at her and Mariss returned the look. They stared for a long moment before Brenda's cell phone chirped and she looked away to answer it.

  “Hello, Bash.”

  Mariss kept her gaze steady on Brenda's smug face. The smile dropped from her lips like she'd tasted acid.

  “What? Why?” Her voice softened, then her hand reached out and she handed the phone to Mariss. “He wants to talk to you.”

  Mariss tried not to smile as she took the phone and pressed it to her ear. “That was mean, Sebastian.”

  “Your phone is off,” he informed her. “I tried to call you.”

  “I turned it off so I wouldn't be bothered. What do you need?”

  “I wanted to be sure to tell you to play nice with Brenda. You're going to be stuck with her all weekend.”

  “Yes, I'm well aware.” Mariss ran her fingers through her hair.

  “I also wanted to let you know that I'm taking you to dinner this evening. Wear something nice.”

  “Who and how nice?”

  “You,” he replied. “I owe you for the other day. And cocktail attire should be fine.”

  “Sebastian, that fight was two weeks ago.”

  “Yes, and I promised to make it up to you.”

  “And dinner is how you make it up to me?” She'd forgotten Brenda was in the car until the woman huffed.

  “Mariss.” Sebastian's tone was admonishing. “Have you ever known me to do anything half-assed?”

  “No. As a matter of fact, I'm still working through how you tried to ruin
me so thoroughly earlier this year by taking away my funding.”

  “I think I've done a wonderful job of picking up the slack.”

  Mariss chuckled. “Let me go before your lady friend gouges my eyes out.”

  Mariss handed the phone back to Brenda and picked her proof up. She tuned out Brenda's annoyed banter, marking mistakes with her purple pen and highlighting them in pink. If she could get the edits done, she could send the proof back to her author and get the book up in the next month.

  It was an hour later that the driver dropped the window partition and said calmly, “Mrs. Red, I believe we're being followed.”

  “What? Show me.” She set her book down on the seat and leaned through the window. The driver pointed to the rear camera screen. Two black Audi's weren't far behind them. “What's your name?” she asked, feeling bad that she didn't know.

  “Clint,” he replied.

  “Clint, are you the one who usually drives us?”

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  “What happened to Mindy's brother?”

  “He quit, Mrs. Red.”

  “Of course, he did. Well, Clint, I can only imagine that the German's after me would be driving German cars. What's the protocol for this situation? Did Sebastian give you any?”

  “Evasive maneuvers and call Herbert.”

  “You evade, I'll call.”

  Mariss sat back in her seat and fished through her bag to find her phone. As she waited for it to reboot, she glanced to her left. Brenda was thumbing through the paperback she'd been editing.

  “Love and Ink,” Brenda muttered. “I've never heard of J.A. Howell.” She blinked up at Mariss, her eyes full of feigned innocence. “Do you mind?”

  “No. J.A. is actually one of my best sellers,” Mariss said, “but I'll need that back to finish editing.”

  Brenda nodded and turned the page.

  Herbert answered on the first ring. “Good morning, Mariss.”

  “We're being followed,” she said without preamble.

  “Who's we and where are you?”

  “Brenda, Clint, and I are on I-495, on our way to meet Sebastian in North Sea.”

  “I'll notify the local authorities,” Herbert said. “You tell Clint to keep a steady pace and not call attention to the fact that he knows he's being followed.”

  Mariss relayed the message. “Thanks, Herbert.”

  “You need to stop getting yourself into so much trouble, Mariss,” Herbert joked.

  “I'd love to have a normal life,” she replied, “but I just don't think it's for me.”

  When she hung up, Brenda was staring at her. “Are we in trouble?” she asked. “Do I need to call Sebastian?”

  Mariss shook her head. “Herbert's on it. He'll probably call Sebastian to let him know. We'll be fine.” She hoped that was the truth and that she wouldn't have the blood of another innocent bystander on her hands.

  They drove in tense silence. Clint kept a steady pace that took them gradually closer to Sebastian and their destination. Brenda kept looking over her shoulder to see what was going on, but the back window was blacked out and there was nothing to see.

  “Ask Clint to show you on the monitor,” Mariss suggested. Now, she did feel bad for the woman. Car chases and murder weren't what Brenda had signed up for when she started sleeping with Sebastian.

  “No, I'm fine. It's fine.” Brenda opened the book in her lap and read quietly for a long moment. “You and Sebastian have plans for when we got there, I heard.”

  “Yeah. It was news to me too.”

  Brenda shrugged.

  Mariss kept an eye on the rearview screen. Even though she couldn't make out anything specific, she watched for any extra movement. There was none, and ten minutes later, four state troupers surrounded the duo of Audi's and pulled them over.

  “They stopped them,” Mariss said aloud for Brenda's benefit.

  Brenda looked up from the book she was reading. Her eyes took in Mariss' face and posture.

  “Good,” she said, and went back to her book.

  The limo pulled up in front of an insanely large home Sebastian was renting for the weekend. Mariss shook her head at his extravagence, knowing that this display of wealth was for her benefit, and part of his return for being such an ass. Clint carried her bags inside and she and Brenda followed.

  “Sebastian should already be here,” he told them. “If not, he will arrive shortly.”

  “Thank you, Clint,” Mariss said. “Do you know which rooms he has us in?”

  “I'll be in his room,” Brenda said. Her tone was icy and matter-of-fact.

  Mariss ignored her and smiled sweetly at Clint. He smiled back, the corners of his mouth twitching with humor.

  “Mrs. Red, you're in this room off the patio.” He motioned to a door on the right. “Miss Brenda is upstairs.”

  “Mrs. Howard,” Brenda corrected.

  Clint smiled at the other woman and said, “Mr. Boa instructed me to call you Miss Brenda.” He turned quickly and went back to the car, leaving Brenda to stare after him.

  Mariss picked up her bag and carried it to her designated room before Brenda could say anything to her.

  The room was bigger than she'd expected with its own shower and a door that opened to the patio. Mariss stepped out to find the pool just outside the door. Brenda would be furious if she knew how well Sebastian was treating her. His penchant for flare could be more annoying than endearing most of the time. Especially when Mariss was the one who had to deal with the fallout.

  She didn't spend too much time staring at the inviting pool. She didn't know when Sebastian would be home and she needed to get ready for dinner. Mariss didn't bother with a shower since she'd taken one before they left the city. She spent half an hour with her hair and a flat iron on a low setting. Even though her hair was already straight, she used it to set the product Elise had given her. When she was finished, her hair was so glossy that it caught even the strayest bit of light coming through the closed blinds.

  There was a knock on the door, and Sebastian stuck his head in. With the door open, Mariss could hear Brenda bitching about something in the background.

  “Hello.” Sebastian smiled at her and Mariss felt the corners of her mouth lift in response. “Are you alright? I heard from Herbert that you had a bit of a scare today.”

  Mariss shook her head. “Nothing a few drinks and an early dinner can't cure. You can come in. I need to ask you a question.”

  Sebastian slipped inside and closed the door. “What's wrong?”

  “Nothing. What do you think of my hair?”

  Sebastian reached out and ran his fingers through her tresses. Pleasure zinged across her scalp and down her spine. Mariss barely contained the shudder that made her skin break out in goosebumps.

  “It's so shiny,” Sebastian said, his voice husky, “and soft. Is this the product you got from Elise?”

  Mariss nodded. “I wanted to ask how you felt about my funding her? I'm not trying to steal her from you, but this stuff is amazing and I want to help her.”

  Sebastian smiled. “I'm perfectly fine with that. I would have offered, but she doesn't like to accept anything but clients from me, so I help her where I can.”

  “You don't think she'll accept?” Mariss asked, frowning.

  “She will accept from you as long as you make it clear that I had nothing to do with it.” He was still stroking her hair. His body crowded her personal space, but unlike two weeks ago, Mariss was not freaking out. Instead, her body wanted his closer, pressed against her, naked.

  “There's been a slight change of plans,” he said, still running his fingers through her hair like he'd never felt anything so soft.

  “Oh?” It was the only word her mind could come up with through the haze of sexual need running through her.

  “Herbert wants us to stay until he gets here. That will push our dinner a little later, unfortunately.”

  Mariss nodded. “What will we do in the meantime?”

>   A devilish grin twisted Sebastian's face into a mixture of sexual desire and sculpted beauty.

  “I could think of a million things to do in the meantime, Red,” he purred and her body reacted, melting into a puddle at his feet, figuratively, because Mariss' feet closed the space between them. Her hands traced his body. He was so warm beneath his clothes, the ridges of his sculpted muscle so easy to trace. Her fingers danced over his shirt to grasp his tie.

  “Is there something you wanted?” Sebastian asked, his husky voice full of amusement.

  Mariss tugged on his tie, pulling him closer until his lips found hers. The kiss was short and chaste. When he tried to pull away, Mariss kept a firm grip on his tie and wrapped it around her fist.

  “I don't want a repeat of the last time,” he said softly.

  “There won't be one,” she promised. Mariss went up on her toes and met his lips with hers. He was hesitant at first, kissing her gently as if he was afraid she might break. Mariss put her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Sebastian obeyed her unspoken command for more attention.

  “Up,” she said against his lips.

  Sebastian's hands settled beneath her ass, and Mariss hopped, wrapping her legs around his waist. He carried her over to the dresser and set her on the edge. His large hands slid under her shirt, caressing her skin. They were so warm, heating her through to the core.

  “I don't think this is what Holden had in mind when he told me to take care of you, May,” Sebastian said against the curve of her neck. In the last weeks, he'd taken to alternating between calling her May and Red. Either nickname made her loins ache.

  Mariss shivered and tipped her head to the side so he had better access to the place that made her melt. “He knew what would happen,” she gasped when his goatee brushed a sensitive spot.

  “Yes, but I don't want to just be your rebound.”

  There was genuine concern in his voice as he spoke. Mariss leaned back to see his guarded eyes.

  “That's never… You would never just be…” She sighed. “I can't promse you that it's all about you, not yet, but it's not just because I'm emotional. Don't you know that?”

  She frowned to hide her disappointment.