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She nodded, wondering how self-sufficient he was. It wasn't the sort of house she expected him to live in, but then what did she expect? She wasn't quite sure, and her curiosity was now well and truly piqued.
No sooner had he opened the door—a dark oak affair with stained-glass panels—than a loud banging sound emitted from somewhere inside the house.
"Cat door," he explained.
Before he'd even stepped into the house, a pretty tortoiseshell cat appeared at the end of the hallway. It ran to him, meowing at the top of its lungs in the most bitter, complaining tone. Sebastian dropped down to pick it up.
"Hey noisy girl, did you miss me?"
She certainly looked as if she had. And who could blame her, Amy mused, her eyes roving over Sebastian while he fussed the cat. The noisy feline was busy rubbing her head against the stubble on his chin, purring extremely loudly and still giving out the occasional complaining meow.
Sebastian gave Amy an apologetic smile.
"She's gorgeous. Does she mind sharing your company with other women?"
"Well, we'll have to wait and see." He looked quite serious. "She hates Mrs. Arkwright, the neighbor who feeds her while I am away. Don't you, you little fusspot?" He put the cat down and she started to lead him into the house, glancing back to ensure he followed. "She won't even touch any of the food she puts down until the poor woman's left the building." He laughed, but Amy felt as if gaining the cat's approval was her new task for the day.
"Come in, come in," he ushered, directing her into a sitting room that overlooked the front garden. He darted in and shifted a pile of newspapers of a chair. "Make yourself at home, I'll feed Lydia." And with that, he disappeared.
Lydia, she gathered, was the cat.
She looked around. It was a large, comfortable and obviously male space, but with friendly female touches Amy's survey couldn't miss. A long leather sofa was augmented by a carved rocking chair, decorated with an embroidered Indian cushion. A display of dried wild flowers in a tall pottery vase, together with staggered oriental prints, broke up the uniform white walls. An impressive array of stereo equipment filled a good third of a wall of shelves, along with some sports trophies and framed photographs. The rest of the space was crammed with books. A set of dumbbells were scattered near the TV, as if they had just been used. The newspapers he had taken from the chair were copies of The City News, which made her smile.
She could hear him talking to the cat, presumably from the kitchen. Dropping her bag on the sofa, she wandered over to the photographs on the shelf, immediately drawn to one of Sebastian with two young people, presumably the nephew and niece he had mentioned. They stood beside a canoe, drenched and laughing, as if they had been riding the rapids. In another shot, Sebastian was with two other men in a snow scene, snowboards under their arms. The third photo looked like some sort of a dinner party. The men were smartly dressed in evening suits and bow ties, and the two women with them wore cocktail dresses. Sebastian looked so attractive in his formal dress, and she looked at the image for quite some time, her body flickering with the yearning she got whenever she observed him.
She supposed it was a work function, perhaps a Christmas dinner party. He hadn't talked much about the company he worked for, she realized, or the type of security jobs he usually got. Perhaps he worked as a bodyguard to people he wasn't able to speak about freely. She made a note to ask him more about it. He'd spent so much time supporting her job over the two days since they'd met, and now they were in his space she became aware of the gap.
"Sorry about the mess." Sebastian had reappeared, sticking his head around the corner of the door to check on her. "What can I get you, tea, coffee or something stronger?"
"Tea would be good."
"Assam or Earl Grey?"
Once again, she found herself impressed. "Earl Grey would be just the ticket, do you have lemon?"
"Yes indeed." He was about to leave when he glanced over at the phone, which was on a small table. "Better check for messages," he said, as if to himself. He hit the play button and began to tidy up as the machine whirred into action.
Amy took a seat on the sofa and watched him as he lifted the stray dumbbells and slotted them into place on their metal rack.
"Hey boss, Gary here. I wanted to let you know we now have a beautiful daughter who we've called Emily. She was born just before midnight last night. I should be back at work by Wednesday, but I'll confirm with the office on Monday. Oh, and Chrissie and I would like you to come to the christening if you can. It'll be two weeks today, that's Saturday. We'll be having a bit of a shindig afterwards so come along…yeah, right, sorry that was Chrissie, she says hi and you're to bring a guest."
Sebastian had stood bolt upright and watched the machine as the message played. He looked relieved when it came to an end. He turned to Amy.
"Work colleague," he explained, then went back to his dumbbells.
The next message played. "Hello big guy, Alex here."
The woman's voice had a warm, persuasive tone. Amy tried to ignore the nervous butterfly that had taken up residence in her stomach. Sebastian smiled at the machine, affectionately. Her heart sank. Why wouldn't he have plenty of other women interested in him, a gorgeous hunk of man like him?
"I wanted to ask you to join me for dinner. I fancied Italian food and well, it's Saturday night and I'm all alone…but I guess you are away doing something much more exciting. Give me a call when you're back in town."
The machine gave a bleep that marked the end of the recorded messages.
"I'll get that tea," he said, disappearing again.
* * * *
Sebastian shut the kitchen door behind him and gave a sigh of relief. Once he'd started to play the messages he realized what he'd done. That was a close shave. If he wasn't more careful it would be obvious he wasn't a regular bodyguard. He put the kettle on and grabbed a lemon from the fruit platter, glancing around the cluttered galley kitchen for sight of the chopping board.
