Читать книгу In Pursuit Of His Wife - Кристи Голд - Страница 8
Оглавление“What is he doing here?”
Sebastian had barely entered the two-story foyer before being verbally accosted by his brother-in-law. “I’m accompanying my wife to the bedroom.”
With her hand on the banister, Nasira sent a sheepish glance in Rafe’s direction. “He does not have a hotel room for the night. However, he has promised to leave first thing tomorrow morning.”
Rafe gestured toward a formal floral settee. “The sofa is available.”
Angry over the suggestion, Sebastian dropped his bags on the ground. “I won’t fit on the bloody sofa. And if you recall, I’m still married to your sister and I have every right to sleep with her. Once you’re married, you’ll soon learn that problems can and will arise in every union.”
Rafiq took a step toward the stairs. “She does not want you here.”
“I invited him, Rafe,” Nasira said. “But only for the night. Now if you will excuse us, we are both exhausted from the evening’s events.”
“Quite memorable events,” Sebastian added knowing he would probably incur his wife’s wrath.
Rafe pointed at him. “I do not wish to see you here when I awaken.”
Sebastian saluted. “Yes, sir, commander sheikh.”
Without looking back, Nasira hurried up the stairs and paused at the landing before regarding Sebastian again. “Are you coming?”
He suddenly realized he should attempt to turn Rafe into an ally, not an enemy. “In a moment. I’d like to have a word with your brother.”
He saw a fleeting look of panic in her eyes. “All right, if you two promise to remain civil.”
A promise Sebastian hoped he could keep. “I have no problem with that.”
She glanced past him toward her brother. “Rafiq?”
“I will maintain my calm,” Rafe said.
“I am counting on that,” Nasira said before she climbed the remaining stairs and disappeared.
Sebastian decided he could use a bit of a pick-me-up and with that in mind, he grabbed up the smaller bag, set it on the sofa, unzipped it and withdrew a bottle of mediocre scotch, the only thing he had been able to find at the lone liquor store in town. “Would you care to join me in a drink?”
“No, I would not,” Rafe said.
“Then would you mind providing a glass. I find it somewhat uncouth to drink from the bottle.”
Without speaking, Rafe left through a door at the back of the parlor. He returned a few moments later with a crystal tumbler he set on the white coffee table before taking a seat in a club chair across from the sofa. Sebastian poured himself a glass of the amber liquid. Though he preferred ice, he thought it best not to press his luck.
After taking a long drink, Sebastian settled in on the settee as the low-quality scotch burned down his throat. At this rate, the combination of booze and jet lag could very well land him on his arse. Of course, he could rest assured he would sleep well...on the bedroom floor.
“Where is your lovely fiancée?” he began when Rafe failed to speak.
“She is sleeping,” he replied. “The pregnancy has fatigued her greatly.”
Sebastian remembered that all too well from the time when Sira was carrying their child. He also remembered the sound of her mournful cries when she had lost that child. “I’m sure the wedding plans have also contributed to that fatigue. How are you faring with that, by the way?”
Rafe crossed one leg over the other. “I have left the preparation up to the women. I only require knowing where I need to be and when I should be there.”
Sebastian doubted he would escape that easily. “I suppose that is probably best.”
Rafe inclined his head and studied him. “I suspect you did not detain me so you could speak about wedding plans.”
Sebastian finished off the scotch with a grimace and poured another glass. “No. I felt it necessary to outline my intentions toward your sister. Has she mentioned me at all?”
“She only intimated your marriage is in shambles and hinted the breakdown is due to your inattentiveness.”
As hard as it was to hear, he couldn’t debate that assessment. “I’ve only had her welfare in mind since the miscarriage. I wanted to give her as much space as she needed. I realize now that was probably a bloody bad idea to show up, unannounced.”
“Yes, and it has created a problem that will not be easy to rectify.”
It occurred to Sebastian that he could possibly elevate Rafe’s opinion of him if he appealed to his ego by asking for advice. “You seem to be a man who knows the workings of a woman’s mind. Do you have a suggestion on how I could get back in Nasira’s good graces?”
Rafe didn’t seem to be flattered, though. “Perhaps you should return to London and allow her to decide if she wants to resume the marriage.”
Not the answer he’d hoped for. “Look, Rafe, we’ve invested ten years in this union—”
“Convenient union, not a love match,” Rafe added.
Point reluctantly taken. “Nevertheless, I care greatly for your sister and I’m not willing to give up what we’ve had for a decade without a fight. But I need assistance in order to win her back. Who better to help me than her brother, who knows her better than most?”
When Rafe remained silent, Sebastian almost gave up until his brother-in-law said, “Shower her with small tokens of your affection.”
“You mean flowers and jewelry?”
Rafe looked at him as if he were a total dimwit. “Not only material gifts. And do not concentrate solely on sexual matters.”
No sex or hearts and flowers. What was left? “I’m afraid I am still at a loss.”
“I have learned women appreciate gestures that might seem insignificant to most men,” Rafe said. “They greatly enjoy breakfast in bed. Massages. Having their hair washed.”
Sebastian could handle any and all of those things, as long as he had some privacy to do them. “I now understand what you’re saying, but I do have another problem. If I am going to woo her, I bloody can’t do it in a hotel.”
“And I do not wish to witness this wooing.” Rafe came to his feet. “I have a possible solution to your lodging issues.”
Sebastian finished his second drink and stood, realizing all too well that he should have stopped with the first scotch. He’d always been able to hold his liquor but at the moment he felt as if he could fly without the benefit of his corporate jet. “What do you have in mind?”
“A private residence where you could reside during the duration of your stay. The owners are friends of a friend and they will be leaving for a trip out of the country for two months. I will call tomorrow and let you know if they are amenable to the request. It will be up to you to convince Nasira, without coercion, to join you.”
Sebastian had no intention of coercing her. Not when he had other ways to convince her. “I’ll try to persuade her.”
“If you are unsuccessful, will you agree to return to London?”
Only if and when he had exhausted every option. “That seems fair enough.”
“Good. I am going to retire now. I will inform you in the morning if I have secured the accommodations.”
“Thank you, Rafe. I certainly value your opinions and your willingness to assist me.”
The man seemed unimpressed with Sebastian’s gratitude. “I am doing this for Nasira. Her happiness is paramount. I will not tolerate anyone who does not respect her wishes. Keep that in mind as you move forward with your goal.”
Before Sebastian could respond, Rafe turned and started up the stairs without looking back. Sebastian dropped down on the settee and rubbed both hands over his face. If he didn’t get up soon, he could end up sleeping on the sardine-can sofa.
On that thought, he trudged up the stairs and made his way to his reluctant bride’s boudoir. He rapped on the door and when he didn’t get a response, entered the room to the sounds of running water.
He had one of two options—leave and let her have her privacy, or shower her with affection in the shower. Option two earned his vote. As long as he proceeded with caution.
He stripped off his shirt, inadvertently popping a button, then sat on the edge of the mattress to toe out of his shoes. He carelessly kicked them off, barely missing the French doors leading to a balcony. In an effort to compose himself, he removed his slacks and underwear with more patience, then tossed them aside on the window seat to his right. When he rose from the bed, he realized he would have to keep a tight hold on his libido. He also realized he wasn’t the only one standing.
“Down, old chap,” he muttered when he walked to the door, then paused to take a deep breath to regain some semblance of control.
If he played his cards correctly, this could be the first step in demonstrating that he could be the kind husband his wife needed.
* * *
Nasira needed a shower and a good night’s sleep. She also needed to know exactly what Sebastian was saying to her brother, but that could wait until morning.
Standing beneath the spray, she closed her eyes, bent on washing away the memories of those intimate moments under the stars in the rear—of all things—a Texas truck. Still, her mind whirled back to the interlude and the way Sebastian had so easily unearthed sensations she had greatly missed. Sensations she still experienced with a succession of tremors and tingling. Her husband had so masterfully manipulated her into oblivion with only a few strokes, and once more the heat began to make itself known....
Nasira shook off the images, stepped to the side of the spray and opened her eyes, determined to regain some perspective without undue influence from her spouse until she was forced to face him again.
The plan went awry the moment the glass door opened, Sebastian walked into the shower and moved behind her, as if he had a standing invitation.
His audacity momentarily stunned her into silence. Yet when he reached around her and grasped the bottle of shampoo from the mosaic tile shelf, she spun on him, putting herself in close proximity to a very naked, very virile, very stimulated man. “Do you mind?”
He took a quick sniff before placing some of the liquid in his palm. “I do not mind at all. In fact, I like the lavender. Now turn around.”
She gathered all the reasons to resist him. Reasons that had ironically kept him from her over the past few months. “You may turn around and leave.”
“Not until I wash your hair.”
That would qualify as an unusual request. “Why?”
“Could you humor me, please?”
She caught the faint scent of alcohol. “Are you intoxicated?”
“Only with your beauty.”
Clearly the liquor was speaking for him. “I smell scotch.”
“I might have had a drink. Or two.”
“I consider that inadvisable in light of your fatigue.”
“I’m not too exhausted or too mashed to wash your hair. In fact, it would be an honor to do it. And I promise you will enjoy it.”
Granted, she would, though she wondered who had kidnapped her stoic husband and replaced him with this considerate clone. She mulled the offer over a few minutes and surrendered to the prospect of pleasure—with one concession. “Oh, all right. But only if you will leave after you are finished.”
“Agreed.”
Nasira faced the tiled wall again and attempted to feign indifference. Yet when Sebastian slid his hands into her hair and began to massage her scalp, she practically melted against him. “That feels exquisite,” she murmured.
Sebastian brushed a kiss across her cheek. “You deserve to feel that way. I recognize I’ve neglected my duties and haven’t exactly been a doting husband.”
She had never expected him to be doting, yet she did approve of this version of Sebastian. Then suddenly his hands drifted from her hair to her shoulders and came to rest on her breasts. Odd how he had not touched her in six months and now, as if someone had snapped on a sexual light switch, the former version of her husband had returned.
“You are exquisite,” he murmured as he pressed against her bottom.
“You are a cad.”
“Henry is the cad. I have no control over him.”
Nasira stifled a laugh. “I have always wondered what would possess a man to name a cherished part of his anatomy after his prized horse.”
He winked. “It’s quite logical because that horse is a premiere stallion.”
She elbowed him in the ribs. “Since you are finished washing my hair, I need to rinse out the shampoo and you need to vacate the premises.”
Against her better judgment, she turned her back to him, stepped beneath the flowing water and soaked her hair, giving Sebastian complete access to her body. He took supreme advantage of her vulnerable position by running his palms down her torso, over the bend of her waist and on to her hips.
Regardless of her nagging need for him, Nasira sidestepped Sebastian and sent him a frustrated look. “You agreed that when you were finished, you would leave.”
He took the blue washcloth folded on the shelf and added a small dollop of gel. “I’m not finished yet.”
Unable to move, Nasira watched as Sebastian washed her body, beginning with her shoulders and arms before he moved down to her breasts, and then her belly. He knelt and bathed each of her legs gently, all the while smiling up at her until he straightened. His crystal blue eyes seemed to darken as he shifted his attention to between her thighs. He lingered there for a time, teasing slightly, setting her on edge before he stepped back and draped the washcloth over the chrome rack to his left.
“There you go,” he said. “Clean as a whistle.”
“Why are you doing this, Sebastian?”
His eyes looked a bit hazy now. “Because I want you to relax. I’m certain you will sleep much better now.”
Not very likely. Not when she still wanted him in every way. “I am onto you, Sebastian.”
He attempted an innocent expression. “I’m sure I do not know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. However, you can attempt to seduce me from dawn to dusk but we will still remain at an impasse.”
“I was simply trying to be considerate.” He grabbed the bottle of gel and began lathering his body. “Granted, a dawn-to-dusk seduction sounds interesting. Perhaps we shall try that in the near future.”
“I’m going to bed now,” she said as she quickly rinsed off without looking at him.
“I will join you shortly.”
“I’ll make you a nice place on the rug.”
“I so cherish being treated like the family hound.”
She sent him a quelling look as she opened the glass door. “We agreed on that arrangement.”
He gave her a half smile. “Spoilsport.”
As usual, he glossed over the seriousness of their situation with wit and sarcasm. Angry with him, and herself, Nasira left the shower, dried off, wrapped the towel around her and tucked it closed between her breasts. She then twisted her hair into a braid, brushed her teeth and returned to the bedroom, leaving Sebastian alone to finish his shower.
In the past, she would have crawled into bed without clothes but decided with her husband in the house, it would be best to dress in a short blue gown, as if donning silk armor. Of course, if Sebastian sneaked beneath the sheets in the middle of the night, the negligee wouldn’t provide any real protection.
Protection. He would not attempt consummation without any form of birth control. He had made that quite clear earlier. In that case, she supposed she could be benevolent and allow him into the bed.
She questioned the wisdom of that reasoning when Sebastian entered the room, a thick white towel slung low on his hips. Even after all their years together, even after seeing him completely nude in the shower a few minutes ago, the sight of his lean swimmer’s physique still took her breath away. Many nights she had explored all the masculine planes and valleys, at first under his tutelage, until she had learned exactly how to touch him and kiss him. She had possessed a certain power over him during those times. She dearly wanted to experience that now...
“Sira, are you all right?”
Startled into reality, Nasira averted her eyes and shook off the recollections, though she could not shake the heat. “I am tired.”
“As am I,” he said as he approached the bed. “So exhausted I could sleep on the floor. Oh, that’s right. I’m supposed to do that very thing.”
Nasira pulled back the comforter and pointed to the opposite side of the mattress. “I am willing to take pity on you as long as you maintain a wide berth between us.”
He grinned. “You are most generous, my lady. And I promise I will be the perfect gentleman.”
If only she could believe that. “I will hold you to that promise.”
As Nasira slid beneath the covers, her husband returned to the bathroom then came back without the towel or any clothes whatsoever. “Could you possibly put something on, Sebastian?”
He frowned as he climbed into bed beside her. “Sweetheart, you know I prefer to have nothing on when I sleep. So do you.”
“We are guests in this house.”
He rolled onto his back and stacked his hands behind his head. “I highly doubt Rafe or Violet will do a bed check to make certain we’re appropriately dressed.”
That led Nasira to another question. “What did you and my brother discuss tonight?”
He continued to stare at the ceiling. “The strange ways of women and the complete ignorance of men.”
“Be serious.”
“I am.”
“Then please explain.”
“At times women say one thing, then do another, while most men are painfully honest. You’d rather spend a day shopping and men would rather engage in sports. Women want to discuss their feelings. Men would rather discuss something as dull as the weather to avoid that at all costs.”
“The last part is definitely accurate,” she muttered.
“Perhaps that’s because we don’t necessarily have deep feelings.”
“Or at least those you care to share.”
Too weary to continue the conversation, Nasira turned off the lamp and turned her back to her spouse. “Good night, Sebastian.”
“Sleep well, Sira.”
If only she could. For at least an hour, maybe more, Nasira tossed and turned, well aware that her naked husband was very near...and deep in throes of slumber, as evidenced by his steady breathing.
Little by little Nasira began to drift off and soon found herself immersed in an erotic state when Sebastian’s hand drifted to her breast. She reveled in the intimate stroking between her thighs. Once more she was captive to his skill and to her own sexuality. Another orgasm—the second one tonight—claimed her with remarkable force. Before the climax had completely calmed, Sebastian moved atop her then eased inside her. Steady thrusts, ragged breaths, undeniable mutual desire...
He whispered her name and she stroked his hair, as if nothing bad had ever transpired between them.
Then suddenly awareness dawned of what they were doing, and what they hadn’t done. “Sebastian,” she said in a harsh whisper. “We have to stop.”
When Sebastian tensed and shuddered, she recognized she had been too late with the warning.
After he finally rolled away, Nasira waited for his reaction and wondered if he was even aware of what had transpired. She received her answer when he sighed, sat up and muttered, “Bloody hell, what have we done?”
She snapped the light on and studied his profile. “Apparently we had unprotected sex.”
He shot her a borderline distressed look. “Apparently.”
“This is not all my fault, Sebastian. I told you to sleep on the rug.”
“You offered me the bed.”
“You did not have to accept.”
“You shouldn’t be so sexy.”
“You should have foregone the liquor.”
He raked a hand through his tousled hair. “It’s clearly futile to blame each other or concern ourselves with the consequences. What’s done is done.”
“If you are concerned about pregnancy, I was off the pill for almost a year before I conceived the last time. It is highly unlikely that would happen again after only one time.”
He appeared skeptical. “Unlikely but not impossible.”
Normally Nasira would be happy to know she might finally have a baby, but not with such serious problems still looming over them. “Would it be so horrible if I happened to be pregnant?”
After punching his pillow twice, Sebastian shifted onto his side, keeping his back to her. “That’s a discussion for another day.”
“A discussion we need to have very soon, Sebastian.”
“Would you prefer I move to the floor?” he asked after a few seconds of silence, reverting back to the man who refused to have any semblance of a meaningful conversation.
She preferred he stop clamming up. “It’s too late to concern ourselves about that now.”
“Then good night, Sira.”
“Good night, Sebastian.”
As she stared at the ceiling, Nasira wondered how she could feel so bereft after making love with her husband. It was as if they’d returned to the days before she had left London—she was suspended in a state of emotional gridlock with a spouse who constantly erected emotional walls. Could they get past the standoff? In the morning she would decide once and for all if finding out would be worth the potential heartache.
