If Sebastian wasn’t mistaken, Kate actually sounded like she relished the idea of O’Connor fighting her on the issue. Irritation turned to concern at Meredith’s trembling beneath his arm.
Ignoring the others and focusing on her, Sebastian lowered his voice. “Come with me. It will be all right, I promise. No one will hurt him.” No matter how he might wish it otherwise, this wasn’t about her bodyguard, but her. Meredith was the only one who mattered.
“I can’t believe you did this.” Emotion quivered in her voice and she strained to pull away from him again. This time he let her go. When she took two shaky steps toward the car, he followed—ready to catch her.
“I needed to see you.” He wouldn’t apologize for it, but he would say, “I’m sorry for the scene. I did not expect O’Connor to object so strenuously to our speaking.”
“What does that even mean?” She whirled to face him, halting halfway to the car. Kate and Michel still stood between them and the others.
“I missed you,” he told her simply. “We need this time together. We need to work out whatever issue convinced you to try and end us.”
Her cheeks went scarlet and she shot a glance past him to the others and then back. Lips clamping together, Meredith pivoted and strode toward the car with Sebastian keeping pace. He made it a step before she did, waved off Michel and opened the door for her. She slid inside and he followed.
Kate caught the door before he could close it. “We’re going to take care of this. I’ll follow in the second car.” Her gaze went past him to Meredith briefly and then back to him. With a warning look, she closed the door and patted the roof. The driver pulled away immediately.
“Why did you do this?” So low was Meredith’s whisper, he strained to catch it.
“Because you wouldn’t talk to me.” Leaning back, he tapped his fingers against his thigh. What he wanted to do was wrap an arm around her, but her stiff posture, the way she angled to look out the opposite window and her still folded arms all screamed ‘keep away.’
“So you just decide to invade a meeting where I’m supposed to be—” She broke off and twisted, her wounded gaze striking him like a physical blow. “There’s no job, is there?”
Turning sideways, he put his arm on the seat behind her. “No, I’m sorry. When you refused the calls and not even O’Connor could get you on the phone, I needed to take some drastic measures.”
“Drastic? Really?” Her mouth opened as though she intended to say something else and then snapped shut again. When she gave him her back, her spine ramrod straight, he scowled.
The drive from the landing pad to the house was mercifully short. The moment the vehicle came to a halt, Meredith fumbled with the door and pushed it open, all but spilling out to walk away with jerky motions. Following her, Sebastian waved off the men coming to greet them.
“Go away,” he ordered and strode after Meredith. Clearly an audience was impeding her ability to speak. When she didn’t slow, he caught her arm. “Meredith, we’re alone you can?—”
“You son of a bitch. Who do you think you are?” She whirled, and her palm slapped his face with a sharp crack. Angry fire snapped in her eyes and her face flushed with temper.Well, at least she isn’t walking away.
MEREDITH
The moment her hand connected with his face, regret and the horror set in. Meredith jerked back a step and covered her mouth. “Oh my god, I’m sorry.”
“No.” Sebastian wore a rueful expression and shook his head. The white mark on his face from where she’d struck him turned a livid shade of red. “I deserved it.”
She was shaking from the inside out. Yelling at people. Hitting them. This wasn’t her. The pattern of irrational, nonsensical behavior defied convention. “I can’t believe I hit you.”
“I always said you were the passionate one.” The corner of his mouth curved upward with the familiar teasing words and her rebellious heart squeezed. Even the evidence of her slap couldn’t diminish his charm.
“Oh God, Bastian. This is not how I pictured any of this.” She pulled the band from her hair and freed her ponytail to ease some of the pressure on her skull as she stared at him. The riot of her emotions tossed her down the rapids to bang off rocks of frustration, longing, anger, and need.
All at once his face gentled and he closed the distance between them. “Nor me. I’m so glad you’re here, so if you need to yell at me or hit me again to get it out of your system, then do it. But promise you’ll talk to me afterward.” Artless charm, and playfulness underscored the sober conviction in his expression. “Tell me what I did wrong, so I can fix it.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” As painful as it was to admit it out loud, it was true. He’d never been anything but himself. “I—I just can’t do it anymore.” She’d rehearsed the words she’d used in their phone call for three days before she’d gathered up the courage to make it. Confrontation was not her forte. Shecould handle teaching a class or addressing a thousand-person-filled auditorium—as long as it was on numbers, formulas, or equations—but Bastian turned her inside out.
He studied her and eased forward another step. The fingers he touched to her chin were inexorably gentle. He nudged her gaze up until she met his. Shame and regret twined through her. “Talk to me, darling. Something triggered your call. Everything was fine and then…”
“Don’t you see?” She took hold of his hand on her chin and he closed his fingers around her, tugging her closer. Surrounded by the meticulously tended grounds and balmy breeze, she felt about a thousand miles away from their problems and yet—the whole situation was such a perfect metaphor for all of it. “Everything wasn’t—isn’t fine.”
His frown suggested he didn’t like hearing the information, but he nodded once. “All right. What happened?”
There was the rub. “Nothing.” After squeezing his hand once, she made herself let go of him and retreat. His nearness made it impossible to think clearly, not when all she wanted to do was to peel open his shirt and inspect every inch of his gorgeous body. Need settled like a hot coal in her belly and she bit the inside of her lip.
Pain served as a stinging reminder to not fall into his arms. God knew, sex had never been their issue. She tried to concentrate on their surroundings—an island in the middle of the Mediterranean. Her circuit brought her around to face the house and she stared up at the magnificent mansion. Constructed of almost rose-colored stone with soaring windows and at least three, if not four, levels—it was beautiful.
“I find ‘nothing’ difficult believe,” he said carefully into the hollow silence. “One does not simply end five years of…anything for nothing.” The hesitation raked bloody scores through her soul.
