She looked up into perceptive eyes, and placed her glass on the table. “Look, I’m happy to help organize it, but it’s really not my thing. It’s yours. People want to see you, not me.”
“They’ll see us both. We’re married. They’ll be curious to meet us.”
“But—”
“Indra. What’s the problem? It’s as if you’re afraid to meet people and yet I know you enjoy being around people. You’re friendly. People like your company.”
“Everyone except you, that is,” she teased. It seemed easier to tease him now, and he grinned in response.
“Yes, that’s me. I’m not one for company. But you are, and you’ll be great.”
She grimaced. There was no way she’d attend, but she didn’t know how to tell him. She’d have to feign sickness or something. She shrugged and gave a half-smile, which could have indicated anything, and decided a change in subject was the best way out of this particular hole.
“You said you had something to explain to me.” It was his turn to look uncomfortable. “Or was that simply a ruse to get me here?”
“It’s true I didn’t want you disappearing up into the attic.”
“The nursery. My office.”
“Whatever. I don’t have fond memories of it.”
She frowned and tilted her head in query. “Really? It’s a lovely space.”
“It’s got low ceilings.” He shuddered. “It’s like being trapped in a coffin or something.”
“A coffin?” She shook her head. “I guess it doesn’t have the same proportions as the rest of the house, but I never feel trapped there.”
“Perhaps because you weren’t.”
In the silence that followed she could see that something had happened to him in the nursery, something he wanted to forget. His dark blue eyes were far away. Her own eyes pricked with empathy at the thought of this man as a frightened boy who loved open spaces, being trapped in the nursery, maybe unable to escape.
She needed to break through. She reached over and touched his arm. “Sebastian, tell me, what happened?”
He looked down at her as if surprised to see her there. He narrowed his eyes and focused on her, and placed his hand over hers.
“It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I’m sorry, Indra. You didn’t deserve any of this. That’s what I wanted to say to you. And I’m sorry I kissed you. I shouldn’t have. I overstepped the limits of our relationship, and I’ve been keeping my distance ever since.”
“Why?”
He jumped up suddenly, turned from her and thrust his fingers through his hair as if fighting some thought. What thought, she didn’t know until he twisted back to her, reached out for her hand and pulled her to standing.
“Because I was afraid I’d do this.”
There wasn’t any distance between them now, and he dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers. This time he didn’t remove them, but held them there while he slowly inhaled. He adjusted his stance and pushed his fingers along her cheeks, raking through her hair until he held her face firmly, and allowed his kiss to deepen. She should have moved away, but for the life of her, she couldn’t. Her brain seemed to have stopped working completely, and all she could do was react to the demands of her body. And those demands were telling her to open her mouth and allow his tongue entry.
She’d never, in her life, been kissed like this before. She was aware of every movement of his tongue sliding along hers, of the pressure of his lips inciting a response she was scared she couldn’t control. And then there was his body, pressing hard against her. Closer, tighter. She could feel every inch of his chest pressing against her breasts, his fingers caressing her back, fanning out over her lower back, brushing the top of her bottom before he sunk his fingers into her flesh, shifting her hips suddenly against his. And then she felt the length of his erection pressed into her belly and she knew what it was he wanted. And she did, too, didn’t she?
She gasped as she pulled away from his mouth. He gave a low moan and brushed his lips against hers once more. His hands shifted lower, caressing her butt while his hips moved against hers, his actions revealing his intentions.
“No,” she said, bringing her hands against his chest. “Sebastian! No!”
He blinked as if coming around from a dream and stepped away instantly.
Although it was what she wanted, she felt bereft of his arms around her. She shook her head in utter confusion.
“I’m sorry.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, one by one. “I’m finding you hard to resist.” He dropped her hand and took another step away. “But resist I must.”
“Why?” She was conflicted and confused. She wanted him, and yet she was afraid of wanting him.