The Last Guy She Should Call (14 page)

Next week.

And he was getting goofy because she was picking out his ties.

Get over yourself, already, Hollis.

Rowan’s fingers dug into his thigh. ‘Seb, stop!’

He slammed on the brakes. ‘What? Jeez!’ He looked past Rowan, down her parents’ driveway, and saw Heidi and Stan standing in the driveway, pulling bags out of their sedate sedan.

‘Oh, crap. Your parents are back.’

‘Looks like it.’ Rowan bit her lip and lifted her hand as her parents swivelled around to see who was idling at the bottom of their driveway. She turned and looked at Seb, her heart in her eyes. ‘It would be so much easier if you just drove on.’

Seb touched her cheek with his thumb. ‘I’m right behind you, babe.’

‘Well, at least I’m looking my best,’ Rowan quipped in a small voice as he turned off the engine.

‘You look fantastic,’ Seb said as he left the car, walked around and opened the passenger door for Rowan.

Heidi and Stan walked down the driveway to greet them.

‘Seb, hello!’ Heidi called as Seb took Rowan’s icy hand in his. ‘We’re back—as you can see.’

‘Stan...Heidi.’ He placed his hand on Rowan’s back and pushed her forward. ‘So is Rowan.’

‘Mum...hi, Dad.’ Rowan stepped closer, reached up and brushed her father’s cheek with her lips, leaned in for a small hug and then turned to her mum. Seb clenched his fist when Heidi pulled back and Rowan’s lips brushed the air about two inches from her cheek. She couldn’t even kiss her, hold her, after nine years apart?

What the...?

Who
was
this woman? Had he ever really known her? Had he been so blinded by the fact that she was there every day that he thought she was marvellous for that alone? No, he’d seen her interact with Peter—loving, kind, affectionate.

His heart clenched for Rowan as she stood back and straightened her shoulders. ‘You’re both looking well.’

‘How long have you been home?’ Her father took her hand, held it tight. ‘It’s so good to see you. You look beautiful—so grown-up.’

Rowan smiled. ‘Seb and I are going to a party. I arrived about two weeks ago...I needed to come home unexpectedly. Seb’s been helping me out.’

Heidi lifted her eyebrows and pursed her lips at Seb’s hand, resting on her hip. ‘Seems like he’s been doing more than helping you out. Strange, since you could never stand each other before.’

Seb started to speak, but Rowan gripped the hand on her hip and he got the message.
Shut up, dude.

‘I’ve grown up, Mum.’

Heidi looked her up and down. ‘Your skirts certainly haven’t.’

‘Mum! Nine years away and all you can do is gripe about my clothes?’ Rowan snapped.

‘Well, I think you look gorgeous, Ro.’ Stan jumped into the conversational bloodbath. ‘Absolutely terrific.’

‘Well...’ Heidi folded her arms. ‘I’m tired, and you two are going to be late for wherever you are going. Maybe you should be on your way.’

‘Heidi!’ Stan protested, and Seb’s temper simmered.

‘We’ll see her again,’ Heidi said. ‘Tomorrow. Maybe.’

Stan sent Rowan an apologetic look and Rowan stepped into his arms and gave him a longer hug. A hug Seb was pleased to see that he returned. He kissed her head before they stepped apart. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, Ro. It’s good to have you back, darling.’

Rowan nodded and held onto Seb’s hand with a death grip. ‘See you then, Dad. And it’s good to be back. Night, Mum.’

‘Goodnight, Rowan. Sebastian.’

Seb pulled Rowan back to the car and opened the passenger door for her, helped her in. When he was back in his seat he placed his hand on the back of her neck. ‘You okay, Ro?’

‘Sure.’ Rowan shrugged, her eyes on her parents, who were walking into their house. ‘Situation normal. My mum cool and uninterested; my dad the buffer between the two of us.’

‘She called me Sebastian. She’s never called me that.’

Rowan managed a smile. ‘It’s because you’re sleeping with me. She thinks you can do better.’

‘Then she’s an idiot.’ Seb dropped his hand and started the engine. ‘I need a drink. A couple of them.’

‘Me too. Lead me into temptation,
Sebastian
.’

‘Buzz off, Brat,’ Seb shot back, but he kept his hand on her knee the whole way up the coast to the cocktail party.

* * *

In Seb’s bedroom, much later that evening, Rowan slipped off her dangly silver earrings and dropped them onto Seb’s credenza, next to his wallet and keys. ‘Jeez, who would’ve thought I would run into Joe this evening at the cocktail party? I mean, heck, this is a big city. What were the chances?’

‘Fairly good, I’d say, since he’s reputed to be one of the most up-and-coming young businessmen in the city and it was a Chamber of Commerce function.’

‘Up and coming dipstick, more like it,’ Rowan muttered. ‘Thanks, by the way.’

‘For...?’

Seb shrugged off his jacket and Rowan could see the residual annoyance in his eyes. She knew that Seb had wanted to clock Joe, but he’d just cut him off at the knees with one burning look when he’d tried to engage them—her—in conversation.

‘For sticking close...for not letting him near me.’

‘My absolute pleasure,’ Seb muttered, taking a step towards her. ‘Why are we talking about him and why aren’t you kissing me?’

‘An epic fail on my part,’ Rowan admitted, putting her hands on his waist.

‘Damn straight,’ Seb replied.

Rowan lifted her mouth to his, touching those surprisingly soft lips that could kiss her so tenderly but could also utter soft, deadly words that could strip hide. But he was only tender, only affectionate with her. He tasted of the whisky he’d sipped earlier, and as he opened his mouth to allow her to explore further she sensed a change in him.

This wasn’t just about sex and pleasure any more, about maximising the moment. This kiss and the lovemaking that would follow were about making memories, capturing tastes and feelings that would sustain them when they separated.

Seb lifted his head and his deep, sombre eyes held hers as his hand travelled down the back of her neck to the zip of her dress. He pulled it down, one tantalising inch at a time, his fingers touching the skin beneath until the fabric gaped open to her buttocks. Using one finger, he pushed the fabric off one shoulder and then the other, until the dress fell in a frothy puddle over her feet.

Seb shoved his fingers in her hair and gently pulled the pins out, winding her curls around his hand before allowing the weight of her hair to fall down her back. Bending down in front of her, still fully dressed except for his jacket, he lifted one foot and deftly undid the ankle straps of her shoes. His fingers lightly caressed her ankles before he sat back on his heels and allowed his hands to drift up her calves, to explore the backs of her knees, the tops of her thighs.

‘You are so beautiful,’ Seb said, placing his forehead against her thigh.

Rowan frowned as she stroked his head. He sounded sad, she thought. Scared. As if this was just becoming a bit too much for him, a little too intense.

No, that was how
she
was feeling...

‘Seb? Are you okay?’

‘Fine,’ Seb said, his words muffled.

He placed an open-mouthed kiss on her right knee and Rowan felt the familiar rush of heat, the tightening of her chest. How much longer would she feel like this? The intensity of their lovemaking couldn’t last for ever—it never did. Then again, they didn’t
have
for ever. They only had next week and then she would be gone. But she would enjoy every nerve-tightening second while she had the chance. She owed it to herself to do that.

Rowan stepped back, reached down and lifted Seb’s tie, pulling it apart and allowing it to hang against his white shirt. Her fingers slipped between his neck and his collar and she snapped open the top button and then the next. Sinking to her knees, she placed her mouth on that masculine triangle at the bottom of his throat and inhaled deeply. God, she loved his smell.

Her fingers opened the rest of the buttons, and she shook her head when he tried to undo the clasp of her lacy bra.

‘No, not yet,’ she whispered. ‘Let me play. I need to touch you, know you, taste you...’

‘Why?’ Seb demanded hoarsely.

Rowan bit her bottom lip as their eyes collided. ‘So that I can remember every detail of you.’

‘We could do this for a while yet, Ro. Nobody is making you go.’

Rowan shook her head as her hands slid over the bare skin of his sides. ‘That’s just sex talking, Seb. We both know that this can’t last—won’t last. You don’t want a full-time lover and I can’t stay in one place. We know this, Seb.’

‘I just can’t imagine not doing this any more,’ Seb muttered, his face in her neck.

‘Right now, I can’t imagine going.’

Rowan pushed the shirt off his shoulders, stood up and pulled him to his feet. Small hands undid the snap of his suit pants and pushed the fabric off him, so that he stood naked in front of her, his erection hard and proud. Rowan ran her thumbnail down him and he jumped in reflex.

‘Sit on the bed,’ Rowan told him.

Rowan sat on the edge of his knees and her hands flowed over his broad shoulders, explored his tattoo and ran over the ridges of his stomach. ‘I’m going to miss you when I go. I didn’t think I would, but I know that I will. Lean back on your hands.’

Seb obeyed and tipped his head back. He stared at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling rapidly. ‘Don’t just slip away without telling me,’ he said, his voice vibrating. ‘When you say goodbye, say goodbye. Don’t sneak out.’

Like your mother did,
Rowan thought. ‘I promise. When I know I’m going, so will you. I promise to say goodbye properly.’

Rowan stroked her hand over his lower abdomen, moving her hand into his thatch of hair, down his penis and around to cup his balls. She felt him tense, relax, then groan.

‘You’re driving me crazy, Ro.’

Rowan was enjoying the power she was wielding, having this fantastically smart, sexy man under her control. It made her feel immensely potent to feel his reaction to her, to know that he was surrendering to her, trusting her to take care of him.

‘I need to be inside you,’ Seb groaned, launching himself upwards.

Rowan slipped off him and knelt in front of him, her fist encircling him, hard, warm, pulsing madly.

‘Ro, don’t. I won’t be able to stop. I need you so much as it is,’ Seb begged, his eyes wide in the dim light of the room. ‘I won’t be able to wait for you.’

‘You can owe me...’ Rowan smiled wickedly before her lips encircled him. She knew she’d won when his hand burrowed into her hair and his back bent over her head...

Was it so bad that she wanted him to keep a few erotic memories of her as well? Rowan certainly didn’t think so.

TEN

‘Well, well, well...look
what the cat has dragged in.’

Rowan thought she was still dreaming when she heard the gravelly voice—thought she was having a hallucination from too much sex and too little sleep when she saw Callie sitting at the dining table in the kitchen at Awelfor, blonde hair in a ponytail and her bare feet up on the corner of the table.

Callie?

‘Callie!’ Rowan screamed.

‘Ro!’ Callie shouted back as Rowan bounced forward and flung her arms around her best friend’s neck, nearly toppling her off the chair.

Callie’s arms wrapped around Rowan’s back to return the hug, but when Callie’s hand landed on her bottom Rowan lifted her eyebrows, then her head, and looked into Callie’s green eyes.

‘Are you copping a feel? Because if you are I have to tell you that you’re not my type,’ Rowan said, leaning her butt on the table, where Callie still had her feet.

‘Just checking that you’re wearing panties and haven’t turned into a total slag while you’ve being bonking my brother.’

Callie grinned and Rowan’s heart turned over. She and Seb shared that same smile—why had she never realised that until now?

‘Coffee. I need coffee.’ Rowan hoisted her bum off the table and wandered over to the coffee machine. She stared at it helplessly. ‘Dammit, I hate this thing!’

As Rowan reached for the instant coffee she felt Callie shoulder her aside. ‘Hasn’t His Majesty shown you how it works?’

Rowan shrugged. ‘He normally makes it for me himself; if he’s not here I settle for instant.’

‘It’s not rocket science, BB.’ Callie showed her what to do, and within a minute Rowan had made herself her first cappuccino.

‘Awesome.’ Rowan sipped and headed back for the table, sitting down before she started peppering Callie with questions. ‘Why are you back? What happened to your Yank lover? Your appointments in LA and Vancouver?’

Callie quickly answered and then flipped the attention back to Rowan. Placing her face in her hands, she eyed her. ‘You’re glowing. I’ve never seen you glow.’

‘Good sex.’

‘I have good sex all the time and I never glow.’ Callie’s eyes radiated concern. ‘What are you doing, Ro? Have you thought this through? Has Seb thought this through?’

Rowan sipped her coffee before sighing. ‘I don’t know... I can’t speak for Seb—you know that he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. As for me... I went into this thinking it was just about sex, that I could control this...craziness I feel for him.’

‘And can you? Did you? Have you?’

Rowan stared into her cup and wondered what to say. ‘I have to, Cal. I can’t do anything else but control it. I’m leaving. I have to leave.’

‘Why?’

Rowan frowned at her. ‘What?’

‘Why do you have to leave? Who says that’s the rule? You’ve never been swayed by arguments about what one is “supposed” to do. So why do you now have to leave?’

Callie’s verbal punch landed in her stomach. But if there was anyone she could be totally honest with it was Callie. ‘Because staying is far too scary.’

‘Why, sweetie?’

Rowan took a deep breath as her eyes filled with tears. ‘Because I could love him, Cal. Really love him. But I don’t know if I could love him enough to stay, to give up my freedom.’

‘You’ll never know if you don’t try,’ Callie pointed out.

‘I’ll never hurt him, or myself, if I leave before this takes on a life of its own,’ Rowan said. ‘I can leave now, but if this goes any deeper—if I fall in love with him—I’ll be ripped apart when it ends. And it always ends, Cal.’

‘Just don’t leave without explaining to Seb exactly what you’re doing,’ Callie warned her, and Rowan remembered her promise to Seb the night before.

‘I won’t, Cal.’ Rowan ran her finger around the rim of her cup and blew air into her cheeks. ‘So that’s where I am—emotionally, mentally. But I have no idea what Seb is thinking. He’s probably not interested in anything more than what we have.’

‘You guys really should talk more and bonk less,’ Callie grumbled. ‘Where
is
His Wonderfulness?’

‘Still sleeping.’ Rowan looked self-satisfied. ‘I kind of wiped him out last night.’

‘Blerch.’
Callie shoved her fingers in her ears. ‘Too much information.’

‘Then I don’t suppose you want to know about the lady kissing your dad on the cottage balcony at the moment?’

Callie slapped her hands over her eyes. ‘No! What is
wrong
with you people?’ She spread her fingers and looked at Rowan. ‘Please tell me that she’s older than us for a change.’

‘A little older.’ Rowan laughed. ‘Okay, a lot older.’

Callie slowly lowered her hands. ‘How much older? Five years? Ten?’ she asked hopefully.

‘Try thirty.’ Rowan grinned.

Callie turned around and through the kitchen window looked at Annie, who was standing in Patch’s arms and laughing up at him. In the morning sunlight they could see the fine lines around her eyes, the lack of tone in her arms. But her face was radiant and Patch’s face reflected her happiness.

They looked like happy-ever-after.

‘Oh, my, I think I’m going to cry,’ Callie said, her words soaked with emotion. ‘I think my daddy might be in love.’

‘Crap on a stick,’ Seb said from the doorway. ‘That’s all I need to hear. I’m going back to bed.’

Callie jumped up, snaked her arms around Seb’s waist and squeezed. ‘If I have to watch them play tonsil hockey so do you. Hey, big bro’.’

Seb dropped a kiss on her blonde head as he tucked her under his arm. His two favourite women in the room, and Ro was making him coffee. At least he hoped she was—though he thought that he needed it intravenously injected for the caffeine to have any effect soon.

Rowan walked to the fridge to grab a carton of milk and Seb had to hold Callie tighter to keep from reaching for her. Not necessarily to start anything—he was wiped!—but he just wanted to touch her, connect with her.

This was ridiculous, he thought. He’d never wanted to be close to someone before, had never sought out female company, yet he wanted to be closer to Rowan, needed to spend time with her outside the bedroom. He wanted more than sex. He needed...
time
, he decided. He just wanted more time.

Her parents were back and, judging by the looks she was sending towards their house, he could see that she was nervous about a repeat of last night’s dismal performance. Seb stepped away from Callie and took the cup Rowan held out to him. He wanted to discuss her parents with her, see where she was mentally, and reassure her that he would go next door with her if she needed him to.

‘Any chance of breakfast?’ Callie asked brightly.

‘Pancakes and bacon?’ Rowan quickly responded with the suggestion of their favourite childhood meal—the only one that they could ever cook with any success.

‘Whoop!’ Callie bounced up again—Tigger on speed—and yanked open the freezer, looking for bacon.

‘Top left?’ Seb suggested, dropping into a chair and placing his bare feet up onto the seat next to him.
Coffee, kick in, please.

He watched in resignation as Callie and Rowan fell into conversation as if they had seen each other yesterday, and tuned out automatically when they started discussing Callie’s latest boyfriend in case he heard something he’d rather not...

Like the fact that Callie was having sex. Which he did not need to know.
Ever.

Seb sighed into his coffee. He loved his sister, but he cursed her returning to Cape Town right now. He was selfish enough to want Rowan to himself for the little time she was in the country.

‘Anyway, he was spectacular in the sack, but he couldn’t hold a conversation with a stump.’

He saw the look Rowan sent his way, caught the teasing glint in her eyes because she knew how uncomfortable he felt hearing this stuff.

‘Spectacular in the sack? Tell me more.’

‘If you do, I’ll beat you,’ Seb interrupted, and changed the subject before they ganged up on him. ‘Have you done any work on your netsukes, Ro? Anything?’

‘Some.’

‘Hallelujah.’

‘There’s no need to be snarky.’ Rowan gently smacked the back of his head.

‘You took two weeks to find out information I could probably have found in an hour. If that,’ Seb retorted. ‘I think snarky is called for.’

‘I hate a bragger.’ Rowan flicked his shoulder and Seb caught her finger and tugged her closer.

‘That’s not what you said last night,’ Seb said, his voice silky as his brain started to fire on all cylinders.

Callie cracked an egg into a bowl and pulled a face. ‘
Eeew!
Gross! TMI, thank you. Tell me about these netsukes so that I can push the thought of you two out of my head.’

Seb kissed Rowan’s finger before letting her go.

Rowan wrinkled her nose as she opened the bacon. ‘Well, they definitely aren’t stolen. I found out that much. The four netsukes stolen from that gallery aren’t anything like the ones I have, except for the subject matter.’

‘Well, that’s a relief.’ Seb leaned back in his chair. ‘So, what’s the next step?’

Rowan pushed her hair behind her ears. ‘I spoke to Grayson again, and he’s scheduled a trip to London in ten days. If I can meet him in London he’ll look at them and make me an offer.’

Seb fought to keep the dismay off his face and out of his voice. Ten days. She’d be out of his life in ten days. No, that didn’t sound right.

Rowan carried on speaking and he forced himself to concentrate.

‘I’ve some money to contribute to the airfare back to London, but—’ she picked up a dishcloth and pulled it through her fingers in agitation ‘—I’d have to pay you the balance when I get to London, after Grayson has paid me. Is that okay with you?’

Seb managed to nod. Nothing was okay about this situation. Wanting to get closer to her, not wanting her to go, imagining her in his bed, in his life, for many more days, weeks—years, a lifetime...
Dammit!

Seb watched her fry the bacon and thought it was deeply ironic that he’d been so on guard with his previous girlfriends, constantly batting off their attempts to get closer, and yet Rowan had pulled him in without making any effort at all.

He wanted to be with her and it was all self-imposed; he wanted to be with her, spend time with her, purely because he thought she was so damn wonderful. By not putting any pressure on him she’d untied the knots—the fear and concern over commitment—little by little by herself.

Was this what love felt like? He didn’t think so. Who fell in love in two weeks? That was crazy! But he had had to admit that he was ass-deep in something. Something beyond lust, beyond attraction.

You just need some time alone to think this through, to be logical and practical,
he insisted to himself. When she gave him some time to catch his breath he’d work it through, put the various components of what he was thinking into their proper boxes and he’d understand.

He needed to understand.

Seb tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. She had to go. She would run because she needed to be free...

His heart wanted to flop at her feet and beg her to stay.

His brain told him he’d be okay—that things would go back to normal, that he’d plug the holes she’d made. Eventually. Maybe.

‘Hey, you lovebirds! Stop snogging!’

Seb jumped at Callie’s yell and saw his sister leaning across the sink, her face to the open window. ‘You guys want pancakes? And, Dad, is she going be my new
mummee
?’

Rowan’s eyes brimmed with mirth as she turned to look at him and his breath caught in his throat.

‘Your sister—so shy, so bashful. She really should learn to put herself forward more.’

* * *

Rowan, her head reeling, carried the dinner dishes from the formal dining room to the kitchen and placed them on the counter for Seb to pack them into the dishwasher.

She’d had coffee with her father the morning after they’d returned home and then she’d waited two days for the invitation to dinner that her father had assured her was forthcoming. When it had never materialised, she’d bitten the bullet, called her dad and asked whether they’d like to have Sunday brunch with her and Seb.

It had been an unmitigated disaster.

Rowan felt Seb’s arms around her waist, felt his solid frame against her chest, and the tears that she’d ruthlessly suppressed floated up her throat. ‘I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry,’ she said, her voice wobbly.

‘At which part?’ Seb asked, his lips just above her ear. ‘There were many highlights. Your lack of a formal education, the fact that you are no better than a vagrant, your criminal past...’

‘I’d heard all those before.’ Rowan pushed her hair out of her eyes. ‘What I
didn’t
know was that they are putting the house on the market and moving to the UK to be closer to Peter when he goes there. I thought that Peter was planning to remain in Bahrain. Did you know that he was moving? He’s your friend.’

Seb’s arms dropped as she wiggled out of them. ‘We don’t talk that often, Ro. A bi-annual call to catch up—that’s it. So, no, I didn’t know about his move to the UK.’

‘And his girlfriend? Did you know that she’s six months pregnant?’ Rowan heard the shrill demand in her voice and knew that she was not going to be unable to keep back the tide of emotion that was threatening to engulf her.

‘No, I didn’t know.’

Rowan moved a pile of plates from one stack to another, dumped the cutlery in an oven pan. ‘Well, if that’s not a huge bloody clue that they no longer consider me a part of this family then I don’t know what is. I never thought it could still hurt this much.’

‘What, Ro?’

‘Knowing that I am, categorically, on my own,’ Rowan whispered.

She’d always had this little dream—one she took out only occasionally and let it fly—that she was the beloved daughter, the fun sister, that she would have a relationship with her mother that was normal, loving...involved.

Well, their prosaic announcement earlier had detonated that fantasy into a million bloody shards. Every one of which was embedded in her heart.

‘You’re not on your own. You’re part of us. You’ve always been part of us,’ Seb stated, his voice calm and reasonable. Steady.