Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
“Jean, we’ll have the Krug 88.”
“Of course, two glasses?”
“No, just one for my lovely lady,” he replied, and Jean promptly scampered away to do his bidding.
“You’re not having any?”
“Driving.” Of course, the oxy wouldn’t mix well with the alcohol. I was proud of him. He was trying, as he had promised.
“Don’t people like you have drivers? Or permanent security detail?”
“I have security when I travel, but not at home. Draws too much attention. Besides, I like privacy, can’t have any with too many people around.” His pointed gaze held mine. “I’ve got a question for you.”
“About what?” I did the best I could to sound relaxed, under the circumstances. I hated being under the microscope. He was too perceptive, saw too much…in me. When Jean suddenly surfaced with the bottle, I was grateful for the reprieve. He poured and let Sebastian test it before serving me a chilled flute.
“Your British accent.”
“Oh.” I heaved a small sigh of relief. “Miss Albright––my nanny until I was thirteen. She was a very stern, very proper British nanny with a degree in child development. Mr. Whitehurst was my tutor until I went to university. He was Oxford educated. My father was a big believer in education,” I replied, praying he would leave it at that. Needless to say, I was in rare company, having access to nannies and tutors in my country was unheard of. I took a refreshing sip of the rare vintage.
He leaned his head on the triangle of his index finger and thumb, his expression thoughtful. “Have you ever been?”
“To England? No. America was my obsession. All I did was watch old American television shows when I was a kid.” He nodded, a sweet smile playing on his lips. “I told my father I wanted to move to Malibu and be a lifeguard when I was thirteen. He didn’t think it was a good idea––shocking, I know.” The old memory made me smile into the champagne glass. “I’m certain I wouldn’t have filled out the red suit quite like Pamela Anderson––and seeing that I’m not a very good swimmer, medicine was the better choice.”
“I’ll take you there. I have a good friend that has a house on PCH in Malibu. We can watch the sunset with a nice bottle of champagne.”
My smile faded. “Don’t say that.”
He cupped my face and kissed me, licking a drop of champagne off my top lip. Self-consciously, I glanced around and noticed curious stares skipping back and forth between us. The heat from their collective attention made my cheeks burn.
“Why not?” he said in a low, sexy drawl. “There’s so much I wanna share with you.”
My discomfort growing, I tried to pivot away. “I never hear you speak that way to anyone else.”
“Lost most of it at Stanford. Only comes out when I’m drunk…or turned on.”
“You’re always turned on.”
He shook his head. “Only around you…I’d love to see you in a little red bathing suit,” he added, cleverly maneuvering me back.
“As I recall, someone suggested I could buy a pair.” It was a casual remark, tempered with a smile. And yet, his whole demeanor changed instantly. A flush crept up his neck and a scowl darkened his features, his gaze dropping to the water glass his long fingers held.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “You should know that I think you’re perfect––just as you are.”
I felt guilty for teasing him. He wouldn’t look at me. He kept staring absently at the water glass, twisting the stem around and around. I cupped his face and raised his lips to mine, trying to persuade him with kisses to soften.
“Hey, I was teasing you. Come back to me.”
His mood took another sharp turn. He grabbed my face and kissed me back passionately––a little too passionately for public consumption. A forced cough rang above us and we startled apart.
“I’ll order for you. Any other allergies?” I should have been irritated, but I wasn’t. I knew better now. His drive to control and dominate came from fear, from this irrational impulse he had to guard and take care of me. For whatever reason, he needed it and I gave it to him willingly.
“Yes.” Surprised, he glanced up from the menu. “To overbearing men,” I said, my eyebrow arching. It was just a brief smile, and it disappeared just as quickly––but I caught it nonetheless.
Jean took the order, standing much too close to Sebastian if you asked me. In the meantime, my eyes took the opportunity to indulge themselves. And there was so much to take in, every small detail about him a precious jewel I wanted to secretly tuck away so I could admire it later, in the privacy of my thoughts. Where it hurt no one to dream of what could’ve been if I weren’t me. If we were just two ordinary people that had met in an ordinary way.