Twice the Temptation

by Francis Ray

  Thanking the uniformed chauffeur who held the door open, she got inside the car. Sebastian climbed in beside her. The door closed, enclosing them in a luxurious cocoon of comfort.

  Despite the roominess of the backseat, she felt almost lightheaded because of Sebastian’s nearness. The heat emanating from his body where their bodies touched, from shoulder to knee, wasn’t helping. The subtle fragrance of his spicy cologne whispered and teased her senses to come closer. Swallowing, she inched away.

  If Sebastian noticed her moving, he didn’t comment. Instead he leaned over and picked up a white box from the leather seat across from them. “For you.”

  Accepting the box, she tugged the intricate white and gold bow on top free. She glanced at Sebastian and lifted the lid. A soft sigh escaped her. Inside was a white orchid delicately tinged with pink. Trembling fingers lifted the flower. “It’s beautiful. Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

  “You’re welcome, and as we get to know each other better, you’ll find out that I never do anything I don’t want to.”

  There he went again, talking as if their association would be a long one. She couldn’t wait another second. “You mentioned you admired my acting. Does that mean you have a part in A Matter of Trust or in a future play for me?”

  “A Matter of Trust. I want you to play Eleanor.”

  Hope’s eyes rounded in shock. “But … but … I know what you said this morning at the salon, but I’d heard Margot Madison had a lock on the part.”

  “I don’t lie, Hope. Ever. If they want me to direct A Matter of Trust, Margot will have nothing to do with the production,” he said tightly. Then his voice gentled. “The major backer for the play was there yesterday when you performed. He’s agreeable if you want the part.”

  Sebastian went on to quote a salary that had her eyes widening again. He anticipated the cast to be finalized very quickly. Rehearsals would start in three to four weeks and the play would open six weeks later. He expected the play to run on Broadway six months, perhaps longer. “All you have to do is say yes.”

  Hope was speechless. She had hoped, prayed, but now that it was happening, doubts began to creep in. Her temper had had time to cool and the ramifications of carrying the success of the play on her shoulders wasn’t comforting.

  “Well?” Sebastian prompted.

  Her fingers clutched the stem of the flower. “I wanted the role at first, but now I’m not so sure.” She rushed on at his hard expression. “I don’t guess I really stopped to consider that I couldn’t schedule rehearsals around Jeremy as I do my appointments at Della’s. Then there are the nightly performances and matinees. I never agree to a community theater play that will last over a week.”

  “You could hire a sitter,” Sebastian pointed out.

  “But it wouldn’t be me.” She twisted in her seat toward him, trying to make him understand. “Most of my relatives and those of my late husband are in Florida. I came here after my husband died, when I was barely two months pregnant. I’d always loved New York and decided to live here. Answering Bridgett’s ad for a female boarder was a godsend. She’s wonderful, but it’s important that I be there at night to listen to Jeremy’s prayers, tuck him in, read to him.”

  “Jeremy wants this for you, too,” Sebastian reminded her.

  “He may act and sound like an adult, but he’s still a little boy.” Hope glanced out the window at the glowing lights as the limo sped through the night. “He’d miss me and I’d miss him.”

  “But think of all the advantages you could give him with your increased income,” Sebastian said, determined to win this argument. “He could attend the best private schools, eat at the finest restaurants, travel extensively. The world would be his.”

  “If the play is a hit and I get job offers afterwards.”

  Sebastian jerked his head back. “I’ve never had a flop in my career.”

  Hope smiled at the affronted expression on his handsome face, then sobered. “No offense, but this could be the first time. I’ve had the bad experience of having a play close on me. Fortunately for us when Douglas was alive, I kept my cosmetology license current and could find work. But nothing as exclusive as Della’s.”

  Her hand briefly fluttered to her hair. “My job there is my only source of income. The booth spaces there are at a premium and highly prized. I had to wait almost two years before a position opened up for me. If I left, I couldn’t expect to just walk back in. My spot would be filled and I’d have to start over someplace else trying to build up a clientele that may not be as loyal or tip as good as those at Della’s.”

  While Sebastian understood her rationale, he wasn’t a man to take no. “What if I could guarantee your salary for a year?”

  She shook her head. “And then what? I can’t gamble with Jeremy’s future that way.”

  He studied her a long time. “I watched you on that stage. You were Eleanor and you loved it.”

  She twisted the flower in her hand. “You’re right. The bright lights, the adrenaline rush. It was wonderful being on a real stage again. But nothing is as important as Jeremy’s stability and happiness.”

  “You’re amazing.”

  Her brows bunched. “What?”

  “I said you’re amazing,” he repeated.

  “I heard what you said, but why did you say it?”

  “Because you are. I’ve met only a few women who were willing to put their children—or their husbands, for that matter—before their career,” he said. His ex-wife certainly wasn’t one of those women. “But in this case I think you’re wrong. You could have the career and Jeremy could have his mother. The play will be a success, I can feel it. Once it closes, you’ll be able to have your pick of roles. You’ll no longer be just an actress, you’ll be a star, and Jeremy will reap the benefits. You’ll be able to give him everything you’ve wanted for him. A pony, a swimming pool.”

  “How do you know what he wants?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t most children?”

  “They grow up fine without them,” she said.

  “That may be, but that doesn’t keep you from wanting to give them to him,” Sebastian said.

  Hope shook her head. “You certainly were right about being pushy when you want something.”

  “You haven’t seen anything yet. I’m going to show you what star treatment is like.” The limo pulled to a stop. Across the street was Central Park. “Starting now. Let’s give people in the restaurant their first look at the next star on Broadway.”

  The restaurant was elegant and impressive. Immediately they were shown to a secluded candlelit table. The wine steward appeared after the waiter left with their food orders. Sebastian rattled off some French-sounding name of a wine to go with their filet mignon, which put a smile on the dour face of the steward. Hope bit her lip. Some star she was going to make.

  “What’s the matter?” Sebastian asked.

  Hope saw what could have been a wonderful evening come to a screeching halt. The pads of her fingers stroked the white orchid on the table.

  “Hope?” Sebastian reached across the table and covered her hand with his. She started, her gaze coming up to meet his. “If you’re worried about Margot, don’t.”

  “Actually, I have a more immediate problem.” The heat of his hand was amazing and disturbing. Despite this, she felt her uneasiness increase. She’d never had this much difficulty before. Bridgett was right. Tonight did mean a great deal to her.

  “What is it?”

  Before she could answer, the wine steward reappeared, filled their glasses, placed the bottle in the cooler, then left. Hope pulled her hand back and watched Sebastian pick up his glass. He’d expect her to do the same. It was now or never.

  “I’ve never developed a taste for wine. Especially dry red ones. Whites are a little better, but not much. The only one I found so far that I liked is a sweet white dessert wine one of Bridgett’s friends sent her from a winery in California.”

  She held his gaze with diffic
ulty. Now he’d think her gauche and probably take her home immediately. The school principal certainly had been miffed. Then she hadn’t cared. Now she cared too much.

  Sebastian set his wine down. “The fault is mine, not yours, Hope. I should have asked. I want you to enjoy yourself this evening, to be comfortable with me.” Leaning across the table, he tipped her chin up with a long, tapered finger. “My first wine was Ripple. How’s that for astute evaluation of bouquet and taste?”

  Hope laughed.

  His eyes darkened. “I like the sound of that.”

  She felt her cheeks heat. Without meaning to, she fluttered her eyelashes. Then flushed again. Goodness. She hadn’t flirted since high school.

  “What would you like to drink?”

  “Iced tea.”

  He held up his hand and instantly a waiter appeared. “Please, take this away and bring two iced teas instead.”

  “Certainly, sir.”

  “See how easy that was?”

  “Only because it was you,” she told him.

  “Probably.” He glanced around the posh room. “The staff here is trained to cater to the whims of the rich and influential. To keep a straight face no matter what is asked of them.”

  “What about when they go in the back?”

  Sebastian paused in answering as the waiter served their salad and tea. “Truth be known, I’ve never really thought about it and neither should you. Choosing the right wine isn’t the most important thing in life. Raising a happy, well-adjusted child is infinitely more important and difficult,” he said. “If I or the average person had to choose which one they’d value the most, it would be the child. You’ve done yourself proud. Jeremy is a wonderful little boy who shows every indication of growing into an intelligent, sensitive, and caring man.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “He’s my world. I want so much for him.”

  “I understand. That’s why I’m going to talk you into playing Eleanor so you can show him more of it,” he said, reaching for a dinner roll.

  Laughing, Hope picked up her salad fork. “You never give up, do you?”

  “Not when it’s important.” Sebastian broke his roll, but his gaze remained on Hope. “Make no mistake. You’re under siege.”

  Her eyes widened. Her hand shook so badly she laid her fork aside. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

  His slow, knowing grin curled her toes. “You will.”

  SIX

  Sebastian proved to be a man of his word. Hope and Jeremy, and even Bridgett, reaped the benefits.

  The inclusion of Bridgett in what Sebastian called “star treatment” endeared him to Hope all the more. He seemed to know instinctively that if she were to become a success, Bridgett, who had rented her a room at a tenth of what she could have gotten, would benefit as well.

  Besides the fresh flowers each received every other day, a car and driver were at their disposal. To top it off, Sebastian had loaned them his own chef, Antoine. Hope and Bridgett were ready to send the arrogant little man away until they tasted his smoked salmon. It was to die for. His sinfully rich chocolate dessert was decadent and delicious. Not one word of objection was uttered when he returned the next morning to prepare breakfast. Since both women enjoyed good food, but not the preparation, he was greeted with open arms.

  A couple of days later a man dressed as a sixteenth century French courtier, powdered wig, white stockings, and gold buckled shoes had entered the salon and presented her with an engraved invitation to dinner at Sebastian’s penthouse apartment. She’d said yes in a flash. The trunk of Cynthia’s had yielded the most divine long red dress.

  She felt as beautiful as Sebastian’s words and attentive gaze said she was when he picked her up. Everything—the star-kissed night, the scrumptious food, the sparkling fruit drink Antoine had prepared especially for her, the spectacular view of the city and Central Park—was absolutely perfect. But especially the man.

  Sebastian could make her toes tingle just by looking at her a certain way. She’d kicked off her shoes and delighted in the experience.

  The next morning Hope woke up with a smile on her face, wondering what Sebastian’s next move would be. Downstairs she looked at the crepes Antoine was preparing for breakfast and worried about adding another pound to her hips. Yet somehow she let him coax her into eating two. Delicate and light, they were loaded down with freshly prepared whipped cream and plump blueberries. She asked for seconds.

  At dinner that night, Antoine even did the impossible, Hope had thought, by cajoling Jeremy into eating the mushrooms that had been sautéed with tomato and goat cheese sauce on his breaded veal cutlet. The man was a culinary genius and was making all three of them into gluttons. Sebastian, who had been invited over for dinner, viewed the entire scene of them pigging out with a satisfied smile on his face.

  Three weeks after Sebastian had come into her life, Hope sat in the bright lemon yellow kitchen at the breakfast table savoring the last bite of her delectable omelet loaded with cheese, ham, red and green bell peppers, and whatever else Antoine had thrown in. Finished, she sipped her freshly squeezed orange juice and vowed the next time she saw Sebastian she would tell him not to exploit her weakness and to take Antoine away.

  Leaving the house fifteen minutes later to take Jeremy to preschool, she had her chance. Sebastian, arms folded, long legs crossed at the ankles, looking as yummy as the strawberries she had devoured the day before, leaned against his Mercedes. It quickly crossed her mind that she’d like the opportunity to devour Sebastian the same way. Instead of the flush of embarrassment that would have appeared a week ago, she thought of all the ways she’d go about tasting him.

  “Sebastian,” Jeremy yelled, and raced down the steps.

  Laughing, Sebastian picked him up and twirled him around. It had become a ritual the two enjoyed ever since they had seen a man do the same with a little boy. The three of them had been at the park having a picnic. Sebastian had glanced over at Jeremy. Jeremy had grinned. Without exchanging a word, the two had gotten up from the blanket they were sitting on. Jeremy had run a short ways off, turned, and, grinning wildly, had run straight into Sebastian’s outstretched arms. From then on, Jeremy had called him Sebastian.

  Hope had been so pleased that Sebastian seemed to enjoy and understand Jeremy so well, she had taken him to task only briefly, when after leaving the park he had driven to a riding stable. Jeremy had surprised her by mounting the small pony with very little assistance from Sebastian. Jeremy had had the time of his life. Score another round to Sebastian.

  Hope had no doubt that, if Bridgett weren’t so proud of her prized flower garden in the backyard, Sebastian would have tried to talk her into putting in a pool. On learning Jeremy wanted to be an astronaut, he had arranged for Jeremy to talk with one of the astronauts on the last space shuttle mission. Sebastian was a tactical genius.

  Shaking her head, she watched Sebastian set Jeremy on his feet, then rub his hand affectionately across the top of the official New York Yankees baseball cap on his head. Sebastian just happened to have tickets for the season opener. On Jeremy’s dresser, proudly displayed, was a baseball signed by all the players. How did you fight a man who wanted to give you your heart’s desire and fulfill the desires of those you loved as well?

  “Morning. I’ll take Eli’s place and, if it’s all right with you, drive Jeremy to school. I thought you might be tired, since I kept you out so late last night dancing. Eli will pick you up at ten-forty to take you to Della’s,” Sebastian said, his large hand resting comfortably on Jeremy’s shoulder. It amazed him that he had come to care for the child so quickly, and how much he enjoyed being with and pampering Hope.

  “I’ve tried to tell you I don’t need Eli to take Jeremy to school, then me to work each day,” Hope said.

  “A star never walks when she can ride,” Sebastian countered.

  Hope wrinkled her nose. “Just the ones who don’t care about their health. Walking is good for you.”

&n
bsp; “Mommy, can he take me to school? Please?” Jeremy said, his brown eyes pleaful.

  “I don’t know if I trust you two alone together,” Hope hedged.

  Sebastian smiled. “No more letting Jeremy steer the car. Right, Jeremy?”

  “Right. We promised, and a man never breaks his promise,” Jeremy said solemnly, quoting Sebastian verbatim. “Not even when there are no cars around like we did the other time.”

  “See? We promise to be good.” He lifted Jeremy’s Kente cloth backpack from his small shoulders. “Go back inside and relax. You said last night your first appointment isn’t until eleven. I’ll pick you up tonight at eight-thirty for the party at Roscoe’s house.”

  A frown crossed her brow. “I still haven’t decided about taking the part. Perhaps I shouldn’t go wi—”

  “You already said yes,” Sebastian reminded her. “Promises shouldn’t be broken.”

  “That’s right, Mommy.”

  Sighing, she shook her head. “Since you two are ganging up on me, I guess I’ll go.”

  “Great. We’ll have fun. You’ll see.”

  “Can Sebastian take me to school?” Jeremy asked again.

  Hope conceded to a losing battle. Most of her son’s conversation had Sebastian’s name somewhere in it. He adored the man. “All right.”

  “Yeah!” Jeremy opened the door on the driver’s side and crawled inside.

  Sebastian got in behind him, not minding at all that the tennis-shoes-wearing child had crawled across the custom upholstery. Hope was unable to keep from comparing Sebastian’s reaction—rather, nonreaction—to Russell’s, the principal. He had been furious when Jeremy had gotten on his knees in the backseat of his BMW to look out the back window at a passing parade. Sebastian valued the person, not the car.