Seduction Assignment: The Seduction Season / The Marriage Deal / The Husband Assignment
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Sebastian collected both cups and set them down on the dining room table, then he pulled out a chair and folded his length into it.
She crossed to the table and sat opposite him. Conversational skills were something she’d rarely lacked. Yet at this precise moment she had trouble summoning one topic to mind.
‘How’s the book going?’
An amused gleam momentarily lit his eyes before he successfully hid it by letting his eyelids droop fractionally. The inevitable question an author had to field from time to time. ‘My answer would only seem a paradox.’
The dry response made it easy for her to resort to humour. ‘You’ve hit a bad patch?’
He winced mentally. ‘You could say I’ve dug myself into a hole and I can’t see a way out.’
‘Why not back up and avoid the hole altogether?’
Good point. ‘I need to think about it a while.’
‘So sharing coffee and conversation is really an excuse not to stare at a blank screen and curse beneath your breath?’
‘Perhaps I couldn’t resist your charming company.’
Icily polite. Furiously angry. Indignant, voluble, even sarcastic. At no stage could she recall being charming. Maybe it was time to try.
‘Tell me why you write.’
‘Curiosity, or genuine interest?’
‘A bit of both,’ she answered honestly.
‘An obsessive need to create a story.’ A statement which usually brought a non-committal response, indicating uninterest or lack of comprehension.
Anneke looked at him carefully. Glimpsed the fine lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes, the faint furrow creasing his forehead, as if he’d frowned in concentration too often in the past few hours.
‘And the how of it?’
His mouth quirked. ‘Matching the image in my head with words that allow the reader to capture my vision.’
An art form that wasn’t always easy, requiring dedication and discipline, she perceived. There could be no doubt Sebastian Lanier possessed both qualities.
He waited for the inevitable comments relating to fame and fortune, the media circus he went to great pains to avoid. But none were forthcoming.
Inane questions weren’t her practice. ‘It must be a fascinating process.’ Her eyes glinted with humour. ‘And not without a degree of frustration when the words don’t flow as you need them to.’
His smile held a warmth that made her stomach curl. And the eyes were dark, gleaming and steady. Assessing, analytical, almost as if he had calculated every move, every angle, and was waiting to see which one she would choose.
It gave her an uncanny feeling.
‘Mind if I pour more coffee?’
His voice was husky and held a tinge of humour, almost as if he’d read her mind.
‘Of course not. Help yourself.’
He indicated her cup. ‘Want me to refill yours?’
It was strong, really strong. If she drank another, she’d be awake half the night. ‘No, thanks. I’ll have water instead.’
He crossed to the servery, helped himself from the coffee-maker, then reached into a nearby cupboard, extracted a glass and filled it with water. All with the ease of a man who was familiar with her aunt’s kitchen.
She could almost imagine their easy friendship, and experienced a pang of envy.
He should get out of here. The computer beckoned, and he’d just had a fleeting but inspired flash as to how he could circumvent the current plot hole.
However, the coffee was good, really good. And Anneke’s current mood intrigued him.
He placed the glass down onto the table in front of her, then slid into his chair.
‘Your turn.’
Her eyes widened, the light, clear green darkening fractionally as comprehension hit.
Fascinating…eyes a man could drown in, and he discovered he wanted to, very much. Thread a hand through her silky hair and hold fast her head while he shaped her mouth with his own. Anchor her against him so she felt his need while he heightened her own. The slow erotic glide of hands, lips, until neither was enough and the barrier of clothes proved too much.
‘You live in Sydney, and work in a legal office,’ Sebastian prompted, banking down libidinous images.
‘No longer work in one specific legal office,’ Anneke corrected drily.
‘Resigned?’
‘Walked out.’
His eyes held a humorous gleam. ‘Problems with the boss?’
She looked at him in measured silence. ‘You could say that.’ A statement she didn’t intend to clarify.
At that moment the phone rang, its double peal insistent, and her eyes flared momentarily with apprehension.
Another nuisance call?
Sebastian unbent his lengthy frame and pushed in his chair. ‘I’ll let you get that.’ He drained the remains of his coffee and carried the cup and saucer to the servery. Then he lifted a hand in silent salute and let himself out of the back door.
Anneke crossed to the phone, removed the receiver, and experienced relief when she discovered the caller was one of her aunt’s friends.
A relief which proved short-lived when the phone rang again minutes later.
She tossed up whether to answer it or not, for she couldn’t discount the possibility it might be a legitimate call. Indecision warred for a few seconds, then she took a deep breath and unhooked the receiver.
Her heart sank. No answer, only heavy breathing. She resisted the temptation to crash the receiver down on its cradle. ‘Damn you,’ she said fiercely. ‘Try this again, and I’ll contact the police and have them put a trace on the line.’
There was the faint click of a receiver being replaced, then the hollow sound of a cut connection.
‘Problems?’
Anneke whirled at the sound of that deep, faintly accented voice, and saw Sebastian, tray in hand, standing just inside the kitchen door.
Her heart was thumping in her chest, and her eyes, she knew, were stark and wide. Control kicked in, and she forced her voice into even tones.
‘You heard.’ There was no point in pretending he hadn’t.
With ease, he crossed the room and deposited the tray on the servery. ‘You didn’t answer the question.’
Why fabricate? ‘Someone seems to be having fun at my expense.’
He leant a hip against the cabinet and regarded her carefully, noting a face devoid of colour, eyes that were far too dark. ‘How many such calls have you taken?’
‘That was the sixth call in three days, if you count my mobile.’
‘He’s persistent.’ He waited a beat. ‘Abusive?’
Anneke shook her head. ‘So far he hasn’t said a word.’
‘Tomorrow we notify the phone company and arrange an unlisted number.’ His eyes hardened, and he kept them partially hooded. ‘Shaef stays with you.’
‘We? I can take care of it. And I don’t need Shaef.’
‘It’s Shaef or me. Choose.’
She shot him a look of disbelief. ‘Aren’t you going just a tiny bit overboard with this?’
His eyes were obsidian, his gaze hard and unblinking. ‘No.’
Anneke drew in a deep breath, considered telling Sebastian to go take a running hike, then thought better of it.
‘It’s probably a random call by some idle teenager who, hearing a female voice on the line, has decided to play a stupid game.’
‘Maybe.’
‘You think it’s my ex-boss? If he’s caught, and I press charges, the Law Society will suspend him from practice,’ she qualified slowly. ‘Why take the risk?’
Sebastian’s gaze remained steady. ‘Some men get their kicks skating close to the edge.’
‘He already has my mobile number. Why not use that instead of the house phone?’
‘It’s too simple. He wants you to be aware he knows where you are.’
Her eyes darkened until they resembled the deepest emerald. Was Adam that cunning? That devious? She could recall telling him she had an aunt who lived in a cottage on a northern coastal beach, but she was willing to swear she hadn’t mentioned Aunt Vivienne’s surname, or which north-coast beach.
Get a grip, she mentally cautioned. You’re not in any danger.
‘Don’t answer the house phone, and switch your mobile onto voice mail.’
‘Any more instructions?’
‘Don’t be sassy.’
He loomed too close for comfort, and it took an effort not to step back a pace. ‘You’ve done your good deed for the day. Twice over.’
‘Is that a subtle hint for me to leave?’
‘I’d hate to keep you from your work.’
‘The computer can wait,’ Sebastian drawled, moving forward a pace. ‘This won’t.’
‘This’was his mouth on hers in what proved to be a devastating invasion. He possessed the touch, the instinctive mastery to make a kiss seem like an extension of the physical act itself.
Worse, to make a woman feel a kiss was nowhere near enough. That there was more, much more to savour in the realm of sensual delight.
A demanding lover, Sebastian Lanier would take everything a woman offered, and encourage her to give more.
Anneke suppressed a slight shiver. The reward would be magnificent, she acquiesced. Electrifying.
Her heart pounded, and her pulse raced almost out of control as he trailed his mouth to the edge of her jaw. She cried out as he savoured the column of her throat, and she arched her head to allow him greater access.
His hands were warm against her clothing as they moulded her close, and the barrier was something to be dispensed with as the need arose for skin against skin.
Sebastian was the first to move, tugging her blouse free, his fingers deft with buttons as he freed each and every one.
Her own sought purchase on soft cotton, and yanked hard until the tee-shirt slipped out from his waistband.
Dear Lord, he felt good. Hard ribs, corded muscles, broad back, wide shoulders. Her hands curved higher, then clung as he crushed her to him.
His mouth claimed, staked a possession that brooked no denial, and for one brief second she almost threw common sense out of the window.
Sebastian was aware the exact moment she began to retreat, and he reluctantly and very slowly broke the kiss, allowing his lips to brush hers, savouring each corner, then he pushed her gently to arm’s length.
‘I want to take you to bed.’ A faint smile curved his lips. ‘But I have the feeling you’d only hate me in the morning.’
As well as herself. Twisted sheets and an energetic coupling wasn’t on her agenda. With any man.
‘I’ll write down my phone number. Should anything go bump in the night, call me.’ He slid a hand to her cheek, cupped it, and traced her lips with his thumb. ‘OK?’
Anneke inclined her head fractionally.
‘I’ll whistle up Shaef.’
Five minutes later the Alsatian was instructed who he had to guard, and how. Both doors were securely locked, and Anneke settled herself in bed with a good book.
It was after eleven when she put out the light, and on the edge of sleep it was Sebastian’s image which came to mind. His sculpted features, the piercing grey eyes that saw too much.
Someone who had experienced more than his share, and had dealt with it. Only a fool would surmise otherwise.
She thought of his kiss, the way his mouth felt on her own, the familiarity of his hands as they moulded her body. And hated herself for wanting more.
CHAPTER SIX
ANNEKE woke early, stretched, then slid out of bed and almost stepped onto a sleek-coated animal curled protectively on the floor. A very large animal.
Oh, my God. Shaef.
Memory surfaced in one fell swoop, and a soft curse fell from her lips.
With considerable caution she skirted round the dog and crossed to the bathroom. The dog followed.
Five minutes later she returned to the bedroom, filching her swimsuit from the shower stall where she’d hung it over the taps to dry.
It fitted snug over her slender curves, and she pulled on sweat-shorts and top, then made her way into the kitchen.
Fresh orange juice added a certain zing to her palate, and she looked at the dog with a degree of doubt.
‘OK, I guess you need to go outside. Water,’ she declared decisively, and hunted for a bowl. ‘Food.’ The dog’s ears pricked at the mention of it.
Dammit, she was a cat person. Dogs gnawed on bones, ate meat, and munched on dry food. A goodly amount of each, she surmised, judging by Shaef’s size. None of which she had on hand.
‘Sorry, fella.’ She placed a bowl filled with water onto the floor. ‘This will have to do for now, then you can go home for breakfast.’
When she let him out of the back door, he promptly lolloped to the nearest tree, then, considerably more comfortable, returned to sit on the step.
‘Divided loyalties, pal. I’m going for a run along the beach. You get to choose whether you guard me or the house.’ She smiled and leant down to fondle one silky ear. ‘Personally, I’d go for the house.’
He didn’t, of course. She hadn’t moved more than half a dozen steps when he fell in beside her. ‘Well, there’s no doubt you take after your owner,’ she said conversationally. ‘He’s every bit as stubborn as you are.’
Anneke reached the beach and sprinted down onto the sand. And saw Sebastian engaged in callisthenics. Waiting to join her?
Sebastian plus his dog? She sprinted towards him. ‘Been waiting long?’ she queried sweetly.
He wasn’t deceived by the mildness of her tone. She was angry. Well, he could handle it. He drew himself up to his full height with ease, placed a hand on one hip and offered her a warm smile.
‘Beautiful day.’
She’d slept well. It made the fact that he hadn’t seem worthwhile.
‘Should I put this down to chance? Or is your appearance on the beach at this hour a forerunner of things to come?’
My, she possessed a sharp tongue. He had an urge to take her mouth with his own and change tart to something smooth and sweet.
‘You object to my company?’
She placed a hand on each hip, taking defiance to a new level. ‘In the thinly veiled guise of bodyguard, yes.’
He had to work hard to prevent humour from entering his voice. ‘Are you saying only one of us gets to share your run?’
Damn him, he was amused. ‘Given a choice, Shaef wins out.’ Her eyes searched his, saw the purposeful intent evident, and she released a deep sigh. ‘But you’re not going to give me a choice, are you?’
‘No.’
‘I just might have to hit you.’
‘Think carefully before you do.’
There was a silkiness evident in his tone that sent a faint shiver down the length of her spine.
Without a further word she turned and broke into a run, aware of the moment he joined her, man and dog matching their stride to hers. Part of her wanted to set a punishing pace, but she knew she’d never outrun either of them.
A degree of resentment rose to the surface. Against Adam, if it was he who’d initiated a nuisance campaign, but primarily with Sebastian, for any number of reasons, she decided darkly. Foremost, for tugging at her emotions and turning them every which way but loose.
The sandy cove curved out to sea in a low outcrop of rocks, and Anneke turned when she reached that point and began retracing her steps without pause.
Shaef was having a wonderful time, bounding on ahead, then diverging down to the incoming tide to examine a shell or a piece of seaweed. Sebastian jogged steadily at her side.
It was a relief to draw level with her towel, and without saying so much as a word she pulled off her joggers, stripped down to her swimsuit, and sprinted lightly down to the water’s edge.
She fully expected Sebastian to join her, and silently vowed as she dived into the cool sea that he’d regret it if he did. Quite how she’d ensure he regretted it, she wasn’t clear.
Sebastian intuitively opted to engage Shaef in a game of throw-the-stick until Anneke emerged.
‘Wise,’ she muttered beneath her breath, and missed the amused gleam in his dark eyes as he called Shaef to heel.
‘Share breakfast with me.’
She was sharing his dog, his protection. That was enough. She caught up the towel and wound it sarong-wise round her waist. ‘Thanks, but no, thanks. I have a heap of things to do.’
He snared her wrist as she turned to walk away from him. ‘Lock the cottage securely if you go anywhere. Drive with the central locking system in place. And make sure you park the car on a main thoroughfare.’
She began to steam with indignation. ‘Anything else?’
‘Carry your mobile phone at all times.’
‘I’m amazed you haven’t mentioned Shaef.’
‘That’s a given,’ Sebastian intoned hardily. ‘Where you go, he goes.’
The steam changed to smoke. ‘Now just a tiny minute, here.’ Anneke lifted a hand and poked his chest. Hard. ‘If my heavy breather is Adam, he’s hundreds of miles south in Sydney. A nuisance, but not a threat.’
‘And if it’s not Adam?’
Ice chilled her veins. ‘I intend to find out one way or another. Meantime, stay off my back.’ She poked his chest again for good measure, then tugged her hand free and marched back to the cottage.
Impossible, dictatorial, stubborn man. Who did he think he was? And by what right did he imagine he could tell her what to do?
Sebastian watched her retreating form, and that of Shaef, who, at a click of Sebastian’s fingers, had taken a few bounding strides to fall in at Anneke’s side.
A woman who would give as good as she got, and be passionate in giving it… Be it anger, or making love. The former he could handle with one hand tied behind his back. It was the latter that bothered him.
He could have done with cooling down in the ocean himself, and he measured the time it would take her to shower, make coffee, eat whatever it was she had for breakfast, then begin making phone calls.
At the very least he had ten minutes, even if she messed up the order of things.
Anneke entered the cottage and headed straight for the shower, where she sluiced off the salt water and shampooed her hair. Then, towelled dry, she dressed in sapphire-blue shorts and a matching sleeveless top.
Coffee, hot, sweet, strong and black, then she’d fill a bowl with cereal and fruit.
It was after eight when she crossed to the phone. Aunt Vivienne was first on her list, and, after eliciting news that Elise was fine, she gave her aunt relevant details and relayed the fact that until she contacted the police she had no idea whether they’d put a trace on the line or suggest she apply for an unlisted number. Either way, Aunt Vivienne’s permission was essential.
Next came a call to the phone company, who, on receiving relevant details, promised to check their records and ring back.
Which left the police. Two ‘on hold’s and two transfers later, she connected with a very informative young man.
‘Yes, ma’am. The complaint was logged in at twenty-o-five hundred hours last night by a Sebastian Lanier acting on behalf of Vivienne Sorrel, owner of the property. The duty officer advised appropriate action, which I understand is being taken, pending authority this morning from Vivienne Sorrel. Perhaps you might like to check with Sebastian Lanier?’
Check with him? She’d kill him! ‘Thank you.’ She replaced the receiver with care, then turned and marched from the cottage, closing the distance between both residences in swift, angry strides.
The back door was open, the screen door unlatched, and she knocked once, then entered to find Sebastian crisping bacon in the microwave while eggs simmered in a pan atop the stove.
‘What God-given right do you think you have to log in a report with the police on my behalf?’ Anneke demanded wrathfully.
The toaster popped up crisped bread, and he crossed to the servery, removed both slices and calmly buttered them.
‘You’re angry.’
Emerald fire flashed in her eyes, and she had to clench her fists to refrain from lashing out at him. ‘You bet your sweet life I am.’
He glanced up, and shot her a direct look as he extracted a plate from the cupboard. ‘I thought it wise to instigate immediate enquiries.’
‘Just who in hell do you think you are?’
He placed the toast onto the plate. ‘I promised Vivienne I’d keep an eye on you.’
‘Well, you can take your damned eye off me, as of now.’
Sebastian deftly removed the pan, slid eggs onto toast, collected the bacon, and carried both plates to the table.
‘Want to share?’
‘No, I don’t want to share anything with you!’ She drew in a deep breath and released it. ‘Nothing, nada, niente. Do you understand?’
He filled a mug with steaming aromatic black coffee, stirred in sugar, and savoured a mouthful. His shoulders lifted in a deliberate Gallic shrug. ‘That’s certainly specific.’
Anneke flung her arms in the air in a gesture of enraged despair. ‘You’re not going to do as I ask, are you?’
His eyes pierced hers, dark, dangerous and lethal. ‘No.’ He picked up cutlery and cut a neat slice from the corner of his toast. ‘Not until the nuisance calls stop.’
‘I’m twenty-seven years old, not seventeen. I’ve lived alone for seven years in a city known for its high crime rate. I can take care of myself.’
Sebastian forked a mouthful of toast and egg into his mouth, chewed and swallowed it, then proceeded to cut another slice.
‘You’ve forgotten one thing.’
The anger was still evident, simmering beneath the surface. ‘And what, pray, is that?’
‘I gave Vivienne my word.’
‘And your word is sacrosanct,’ Anneke declared with marked cynicism.
‘Yes.’
‘So get used to it?’
‘I’m simply telling you how it is,’ he said calmly.
‘In that case, there’s nothing more to say.’
‘No.’
There were several more words she could have uttered, many of them blistering and not in the least ladylike. However, restraint in this instance was a favoured option.
‘Fine.’ She turned towards the back door and walked from his kitchen, then crossed the stretch of lawn and garden separating each cottage.
Her car stood in the carport, and, making a split-second decision, she went indoors, changed her clothes, caught up her bag and mobile phone, then locked up the cottage, slid behind the wheel and reversed down the driveway.
Within minutes she gained the main road leading onto the northern highway. The Gold Coast was only two hours’ drive away. Shopping centres, movies, glitzy boutiques. Just the place to escape to, Anneke decided.
She had travelled less than five minutes when her mobile phone rang, and she automatically activated it.
‘Tell me where you’re going, and what time you expect to be home.’
Her stomach performed a backwards somersault at the sound of Sebastian’s voice on the line. It sounded impossibly deep, his accent more pronounced.
Anneke took a deep, steadying breath. ‘Go to hell.’ Then she cut the connection.
It should have made her feel better. Instead, she felt more and more like an angry juvenile kicking out against authority.
Examining the situation analytically, she was allowing emotions to overrule common sense.
Damn. She thumped a fist against the steering wheel. This contrary ambivalence was ridiculous.
Without further thought she slowed down and pulled off to the side of the road. She caught up her mobile phone and prepared to punch in digits she realised she didn’t have. Sure, he’d written down his number, but that was on a piece of paper tucked into a teletex in her aunt’s kitchen.
OK, all she had to do was ring directory service. Two minutes later she de-activated the call, and groaned with frustration. Sebastian Lanier’s phone number was ex-directory.
One car passed, then another. She didn’t notice the Range Rover ease to a halt behind her, nor was she aware as the driver slid out from behind the wheel and trod the bitumen to the passenger side of her car.
A firm tap on the glass was the first indication she had of anyone’s presence.