AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"A woman bearing gifts." Something about his comment made it seem as if he was usually the bearer of gifts, rather than the one receiving them. Setting the present on the table, he opened the flaps and reached inside, pulling out a small Zanti Misfit. Its eyes were made out of bolts and its pincers crafted of pruning shears. Sebastian lifted his gaze to hers for one intense moment before he rose from his chair to hunker at the edge of the terrace next to several terracotta pots filled with greenery. Placing the Zanti, he turned the creature slightly. "Perfect."
Yes, she thought as she let herself drink him in for a long moment, he really was. Cool and collected? Around Sebastian? Who was she kidding?
"I'll treasure it, Charlie. Always. Thank you."
She'd meant it simply as a small thank-you for all he was doing for her, but seeing how much he appreciated the miniature sculpture filled her with unexpected joy. "You're welcome."
He held out his hand. "Time for my surprise." As his fingers closed around hers, a thrill went through her, right down to her sandaled toes.
With nothing more than the touch of his hand, he made her feel reckless. Crazy. Yes, he was handsome, rich, and as mouthwatering in a suit as he was in jeans. He had a voice that strummed all her nerve endings, along with a touch that made her skin come alive and her body want to dance in age-old rhythms.
And yet, what she was feeling for him somehow went deeper than just his looks, his voice, or his touch. She'd never thought to give a man one of her Zanti Misfits before. And she was certain that no other man would have appreciated it as much as Sebastian did.
Her fingers tucked in his, he picked up their wineglasses in one hand, then led her through the formal part of the house, past his library, and into a smaller, more intimate room with a fully equipped entertainment center that rivaled the one in the bungalow. Black and white photos of forests and mountains and waterfalls adorned the walls. He splayed a hand toward the couch. "Make yourself comfortable."
She had visions of not only taking off her shoes, but sliding out of her sundress and panties too. Oh boy, she had it bad.
With a remote on the heavy wood coffee table, Sebastian turned on the TV. Several pieces of equipment lit up as he pushed buttons.
"We're going to watch TV?" They were both exercising a great deal of self-control tonight, presumably to make sure the line between art and commerce didn't blur on her first night here. But while she hadn't thought he'd jump her right away, she hadn't expected him to turn on the TV either.
"I found something special for you." He sat down beside her, taking his half of the sofa out of the middle, her bare feet pressing against his thigh.
A movie began to stream. There were no opening credits, just a large, old-fashioned off-the-air symbol she hadn't seen in years. Then the voice told her to sit back, because she was no longer in control of her TV set.
"Oh my God." She gasped out a little laugh. "I can't believe you found 'The Zanti Misfits.'"
"I had to find out why you made an army of them. And I'm really glad I did, now that I have my very own."
She instinctively knew he was telling the truth--that he hadn't done it to impress her, but had simply wanted to know what inspired her. Which made perfect sense when she considered his career as a motivational speaker. He had to know people.
Still, it stunned her that he was so interested in knowing her.
"Popcorn," she said, to resist throwing herself at him. "We need popcorn."
Hitting Pause on the remote, he reached for a house phone on the side table and asked Rory if he could bring them popcorn. He seemed even closer, warmer, melting her all the way through as he sat back a moment later, pointed the remote, and the Zantis started their mischief.
*
The show delighted Charlie, though Sebastian was sure she'd seen it many times over. And he was delighted not only by the way she snuggled into him, but also by how natural she was. He couldn't imagine any of the women he'd dated in the past decade licking the salt and oil from her fingers as they shared a bowl of buttery popcorn. Although it was hell keeping himself from grabbing Charlie's hand and licking each finger clean, one slow swipe of his tongue at a time.
By the time the credits rolled--she had curled into him by then and her hair was soft against his skin--he was aching with need. He wanted to take her to his bed, wanted to spend the rest of the night learning every curve and hollow of her gorgeous body with his mouth, his hands.
But for the first time in his life, he knew he couldn't do that. Because Charlie already mattered. Mattered a hell of a lot. Which meant he needed to figure her out first. Needed to be sure that they were the right fit in every way, rather than merely in bed, where he already sensed no one would ever fit him better.
"So?" She shifted to look at him. "What did you think?"
"It had a lot more screaming than I thought it would." The way she'd spoken of the show had been so upbeat. "And it seemed like no matter how good a plan people made, things went wrong anyway. I kept looking for the happy ending."
"The happy ending is right there in front of you," she told him, her body swaying slightly as she leaned in to make her point. She was so warm, so sensual, that his blood heated even as he warned himself to cool it. "The screaming woman ended up figuring out her life and they all triumphed in the end."
Sebastian was amazed that Charlie saw positive messages in a plan gone totally wrong. Ever since his parents had gone completely off the rails, he'd spent the past two decades on constant alert for the ways things could go wrong. Then he devised the right fix before everything got sucked down the tubes. He was always moving, planning, doing, acting--and encouraging others to do the same. But Charlie soothed something inside him with her unselfconscious laughter a
nd relaxed sensuality. She inspired him too, with the way she approached her art so openly. So freely. Plus, she felt absolutely perfect against him.
"What were your favorite shows when you were a kid?"
In an instant, he went completely still inside, the relaxed feeling gone as if it had never been there at all. Sebastian didn't hide his history from people, but he'd learned how to talk about his childhood on stage and in interviews without getting upset about it. He used his past as an example, treating his story as an object lesson in his talks: You didn't have to be controlled by your past, but you did need to make sure you learned from it so that you wouldn't end up repeating those mistakes.
