Читать книгу On Equal Terms - Catherine O'Connor - Страница 7

‘GOOD morning.’

Kate gave a nervous start at the softly vibrant voice that cut through the early morning stillness. She spun round, fixing her eyes on the tall, broad-shouldered and immensely powerful-looking figure walking slowly towards her. A frisson of alarm ran through her body as her mind registered the sheer power of the man. He towered over her own petite stature and looked down at her. His eyes were dark blue, with thick, curly lashes, and his hair was a mixture of browns, sort of tobacco-coloured.

‘My name’s Sebastian,’ he said, his voice deep and clear, as he extended his hand in a formal greeting. Kate gazed up at him, her eyelids blinking anxiously as she noted the teasing lilt in his tone.

‘Hello, Sebastian,’ she managed, at the man who was now her stepbrother and her senior by twelve years.

‘I’d thought I’d take Dylan out,’ Sebastian said smoothly, releasing her hand and moving into the stalls. Kate nearly sagged with relief at his words.

‘He’s all ready, Mr…’ she began, but Sebastian swung round, his blue eyes dark.

‘Sebastian—please. My name is Sebastian.’

‘Sebastian,’ agreed Kate, with a nod. It seemed odd to her that he should want to be called by his first name. The timbre in his voice held the unmistakable tone of authority and Kate knew he expected to be obeyed. ‘Dylan is ready and eager to be out,’ Kate said, instinct warning her that Sebastian was not as malleable as her father. He was wearing riding boots but the rest of his clothes were far from formal. He wore a pair of faded denim jeans that hugged his muscular thighs and a checked shirt peeked out around the crew neck of a thick navy sweater. He could have passed for an Englishman. But Kate had eavesdropped on many adult conversations, so knew his heritage, even if his mother was at pains to forget all about her disastrous first marriage. She had been married to a much older man, a fiery Italian who believed a woman’s place was in the home. Sebastian had inherited his father’s dark looks, his fiery disposition, but his ideas on women were far removed from his father’s. Still, Kate would have known immediately that he wasn’t English. There was something wild about him—untamed and free—unlike the wealthy English gentlemen that she was familiar with. His hair was streaked with flecks of shimmering gold and it was swept back off his face like a sleek lion’s mane, drawing attention to his autocratic features. His eyes were blue, yet they were dark with a piercing quality, like an icy shaft of light Kate sensed even then that she would always love him, that somehow they were kindred souls who had been drawn together by circumstances beyond their control. She stared up at him, her pale grey eyes almost hidden beneath her long, straight fringe of ash-blonde hair.

‘Dylan is a fine horse, such a beautiful grey stallion,’ she breathed, following Sebastian into the stalls, wanting to be close to him.

‘He needs far too much exercise,’ Sebastian commented as he began to lead the horse out.

Kate was still following, like a young puppy eager to please its new master.

‘Do you ride?’ Sebastian asked, suddenly turning his attention to Kate, and he managed to control the smile of amusement that tugged at his lips when she coloured again instantly. Kate nodded silently in childish awe of the man. ‘Then saddle up; we can both go for a ride.’

‘Your bath is ready.’

The sound of Sebastian’s voice shattered her dream and Kate opened her eyes and nodded.

‘Thanks,’ she said, quickly lowering her long lashes over her eyes before he had time to read the depths of emotion in them.

‘Let me help you,’ Sebastian offered, moving towards the bed; but he stopped instantly as he saw Kate stiffen.

‘I’m quite capable of finding my own way to the bathroom.’

‘I’m sure you are.’ His mouth tightened. As he’d spoken a flame of anger had briefly flared in the normally ice-cool depths of his eyes. Kate glared back at him. It was always the same between them—a constant round of battles, and she was growing weary of them.

‘I can manage,’ she said. She wanted to be strong, to show him she could now do without him. She had changed in the last two years, had become self-sufficient. Had it not been for the unfortunate car accident, he would have never found her. She had a new life, and she had learned to cope, to accept the fact that she was no longer welcome in her childhood home. It had been hard but she had managed—without Sebastian’s help, without anyone’s help. Kate swallowed, trying to rid herself of any bitterness. It would do no one any good. Besides, she was home now; perhaps her father would finally accept her back into the fold. She sat up, pushing the crisp, warm sheets from her body. Her eyes dropped to her legs. How thin they looked. Had she lost that much weight? she mused momentarily, before urging her body upwards. She swayed slightly as she got up, the after-effects of the accident making her unsteady. Sebastian reacted quickly, instantly at her side, his arm offering an unwelcome support Kate pulled away. It was all his fault She was here, back at home, with no sign of her father. Sebastian had been wrong to bring her home; she had not been forgiven.

‘Leave me alone,’ she ground out at him through clenched teeth. The knowledge that her father hadn’t come to see her hurt her more than she cared to admit. Sebastian’s face darkened at her words, but he remained silent, viewing her with such cold contempt that Kate felt chilled to the bone, the heat of her temper evaporating under his steely gaze.

‘I don’t want or need your help,’ she scoffed.

‘Don’t you?’ Sebastian questioned, with an amused raise of his eyebrows as Kate’s body swayed slightly again.

‘No,’ Kate snapped back, but too soon; her legs suddenly gave way and, had it not been for Sebastian’s quick actions, she certainly would have fallen to the floor.

‘Kate!’ he admonished, his voice gruff and strangely at odds with the concern that flickered in his face. He swept her hair from her face, the rough hairs on the back of his hand rubbing against the smooth, soft skin of her cheeks. Kate felt an immediate rush of heat. His touch still held the same potent magic for her and the realisation made her feel dangerously vulnerable.

‘I’m all right,’ she said. She made her voice sound strong, hoping that it sounded like a statement when in fact it was a plea for survival. She was already weakening. Her female instincts seemed determined to betray her. She pushed her hand against his hard chest. It was a futile gesture, like hitting a brick wall. Her hand made no impact on his muscular frame. She stood up, moving away from him, aware of his growing impatience.

She willed her weak legs to support her as she made her way tentatively to the bathroom. She slammed the door behind her, shutting Sebastian out, then she leant back on it, desperate for the solid support it could offer her. Her shoulders sagged with the weight of despair and her knees buckled with fatigue. She didn’t want Sebastian’s pity, his brotherly concern, yet it was all he was willing to offer her. The realisation that she was still vulnerable to him made her angry.

She slipped out of her over-sized nightshirt and stepped cautiously into the bath. It was wonderful; the hot water, made silky-soft with delicately scented oils, lapped against her aching body, slowly massaging away her physical pains. But her lonely heart still ached. Nothing had really changed. She breathed deeply, inhaling the heavenly fragrance. The sweet smell of summer flowers made her mind drift back to happier times, as if drawn by a hidden power source that she was too weak to fight.