Deep Autumn Heat (34 page)

Immediately, Sebastian leapt up and stood, hands by his side. He took a step toward her. “Lexie,” he said, imploring her to come to him.

Her eyes were glazed with fear. “No. D-don’t touch me.”

“Lexie.” His voice was almost a groan. “I’m sorry, but I just lost it.” When Lexie didn’t respond, Seb pressed. “He was
hurting
you. I couldn’t just let it stand. Lexie? Lexie, come on. Look at me.”

Lexie gave him a searching look. Though the fear didn’t quite leave her eyes, it abated enough to give Sebastian the opening he needed. Slowly, carefully, he walked toward her, still holding his hands by his side. When he reached her, he simply enveloped her in his arms. She felt so small, so vulnerable.

She was trembling, and he squeezed her gently to let her know that he was there, that he knew what she was going through, and that he wasn’t going to press her. Not now.

“Lexie. I would never hurt you. Understand?”

He felt her nod jerkily into his chest.

“I’m going to call Cole, all right?”

She nodded again, and he took his phone out of the pocket of his jeans and dialed Cole’s cell phone number. Seb’s nose and cheek stung from where Frank had clocked him, so he held the phone a few centimeters away from his face. He thanked his workout regime for the hard stomach muscles that had protected him from at least one of Frank’s sucker punches.

“And where the hell is Buster, anyway?” he asked as the phone rang.

“He left after work to go to Boston.” Her voice was muffled in his chest. “I asked Cole to pick me up at ten to take me home.”

“Jeez. So you were here all alone.” The line on the other end picked up. “Cole? Cole it’s me. Get down to the LMK right away. Lexie’s been attacked.” Cole swore so violently that even Seb, who’d heard it all before, cringed. “She’s scraped up, but no major damage. But send an ambulance anyway.” He clicked the phone shut. “Cole’s on his way.”

Lexie didn’t move or speak, and she made no acknowledgment that he had spoken. In fact, she was suspiciously quiet. “Lexie?” Sebastian pulled away from her, tucked his finger under her chin to lift her head, and quickly realized his mistake when he saw the tears that were
flowing down her face in small rivulets.

Immediately, he embraced her. The hot wetness from her tears seeped into his shirt. At that moment, Sebastian didn’t care about anything but erasing her fears, erasing her horrible memories. He had no idea how much time had passed when he felt her pull his arm down and press something cold, hard, and metallic into his hand. He curled it in his fingers, but didn’t even glance at the object. Instead, he simply wrapped his arm back around her and held her tightly.

Sooner than he’d have thought, he heard the far-off sounds of ambulance and police sirens piercing the night air. As they grew louder he pressed her closer, knowing they’d soon be parted.

And then she was gone, whisked into the back of an ambulance despite her protests that she just wanted to go home. The last he saw of her, she was sitting on a gurney, Julie Kensington’s arm around her slim shoulders. She was leaning on Julie out of exhaustion or for support—Sebastian didn’t know which. He only knew it wasn’t him riding with her.

Frank had been handcuffed to the gurney, being personally escorted to the hospital by Cole. Seb had waved off the EMTs who’d tried to help him, preferring to let his body sting than to have someone other than Lexie touching him. At some point—Sebastian couldn’t say when—Val had shown up.

“C’mon bro,” Val said gently. “There’s nothing more you can do here tonight. Let’s go back to the boat, and I’ll take care of everything else.”

Seb nodded his assent.

“Leave your bike here,” Val said. “You’re in no shape to ride.” Val looked down at Seb’s hand. “What have you got there?” he asked.

Seb lifted his hand and uncurled his fist. There, in the center of his palm, lay an old metal key. It was covered in Frank’s blood.

Val’s eyes widened. “Is that—”

“Not my blood,” Seb said tersely. “And I think it’s evidence. I’ll get it to Cole tomorrow.”

They walked back to Val’s boat in silence. Once on board, Sebastian went to the guest cabin he shared with Cole. His mind a riot of images, he rolled into his small berth and waited in vain to be rocked to sleep by the roll and pitch of the boat.

* * *

Sebastian groaned as he woke up from yet another dreamless sleep. Though it had been three days since Frank’s attack, his head still pounded, his cheek still smarted, and his nose was still sore. He’d finally sucked it up and gone to see Julie, who had told him that he’d feel worse before he felt better. This morning was particularly bad. Even his eye sockets ached. The sharp cries of the seagulls chasing their morning meal did nothing to quell his pain. Their screams echoed in his skull, rattling around his head like pinballs in a machine.

Rolling over as best he could in the snug berth, he pressed his palms to his eyes. The pressure was relieved for a moment, but as soon as he took his hands away, the throbbing returned.

Opening his eyes, he saw that Val had moved a bottle of aspirin from the commode to the small shelf near his berth. Gratefully, he grabbed a bottle of water and downed a few pills before lying back to wait for the drugs to kick in.

The day after the attack, he’d wanted to see her. Wanted to hold her, kiss her, confirm that she was healing. And that she was his. But before he could even step off the boat, Cole had swung by on one of his breaks.

“Don’t go. She’s not ready,” he had said. “She doesn’t want to see anyone.”

So Sebastian had stayed put. Restaurant on hold. Life on hold. Woman on hold. He couldn’t see her, but he could talk to her, right? As soon as Cole had left, Seb had called Lexie’s cell phone. When she didn’t pick up, he’d called her home phone number.

“Hello?” she’d answered, her voice sounding tired and terribly sad.

“Lexie, it’s me. Are you okay?”

“Sebastian. Yes, I’m … I’m all right. I suppose.”

He’d been holding his breath while she spoke. He wanted to hear her, to assure himself that she was really all right. But while her words said one thing, her tone said another.

“Lexie, you don’t sound all right. I’d like to come by to see you.”

“Please, Seb. I just need some time.”

“How much time?”

“I … I don’t know. I can’t—”

“It’s all right, Lexie,” he interrupted. “Take all the time you need.” And he’d hung up.

He’d waited for her call for three rainy days. Waited for her to let him know it was okay for him to come over. That she needed to see him. Wanted to see him. Three days, and he’d heard nothing.

Now that his headache had subsided, he knew two things. One, it had stopped raining. And two?

He was done waiting.

Without telling anyone what he was doing, he climbed off the boat and onto his motorcycle, which Val had retrieved from the LMK.

Sebastian was going to see Lexie Meyers and no one, not even the lady herself, was going to stop him.

Within ten minutes he was driving down Harper’s Pond Road. Avoiding the pockets of slippery dirt and slick mud that had accumulated over the past few days, he made his way to her doorstep. He knocked on her cottage door for a long time.

“Please open the door, Lexie.”

After what seemed like an eternity, he heard the click of the lock and the twist of the door handle. Sebastian thought she’d look angry, perhaps even defiant. After all she’d been through she was bound to have bricked up her protective walls, just like she always did when she felt threatened. But instead, what he saw was a look of pure misery.

Lexie’s eyes were rimmed with red and telltale blotches of color stained her cheeks. Her
mouth, typically curled up at the edges with mirth, was flat. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, hiding the bouncy curls from his sight. She looked so unlike herself that Sebastian nearly stepped back.

Her haunted, wretched look instantly wiped out whatever anger he himself was feeling. A pang of guilt, of abject sadness that the woman he loved felt so terrible, lanced through his chest.

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” she said in a whisper. “Go away.”

No way was he going. Not after that last terrible week in New York, when he’d been so desperate to be with her. Not after Frank had hurt her. Not after he’d spent the past few days sick with worry.

Sebastian shook his head. “No. I won’t leave until I’m convinced that you’re all right.”
And I say what I need to say
.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re the furthest thing from ‘fine’ I’ve ever seen.”

“I
said
I’m fine,” she repeated, this time more forcefully. “Just go.”

“You’re not, and you’re wrong if you think you are. You need to hear me out. I have a question for you. Something I didn’t get to ask you the night I returned to Star Harbor.”
The night Frank Doherty was attacking you
. “Why did you leave me in New York?” he asked, forcing himself to keep his voice neutral.

“I … I—” Lexie stammered. She looked away.

Though he was dying to touch her, he held himself back, not wanting to spook her. His hands clenched by his sides in frustration. “Lexie,” he said gently, “I was worried that something had happened to you when I woke up and you weren’t there. And when you didn’t pick up my calls or return my messages, I thought you might have been hurt.” Lexie continued to look down, but didn’t say anything. Sebastian continued. “I had to call Cole to make sure you’d gotten back to Star Harbor safely. And it turns out that you weren’t safe, after all.”

Though Lexie didn’t speak, she didn’t move, either. Sebastian took a half step closer to the door and put his hand on the frame. She stiffened, but didn’t try to flee.

“Lexie, there are people—good people—who genuinely care about you and would never, ever, want to see you get hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, still looking down. “It was wrong of me to leave like that.”

Sebastian raised his eyebrows. This was encouraging. “Yes, it was,” he said. “But I think I understand why you left.”

“You … you do?” She peered up at him.

“Yes. I do,” he said. “You’re scared of yourself more than you’re scared of me.”

Lexie looked doubtful. “I am?”

“Absolutely. You see, I already know you love me.”

Lexie jerked her chin up at him, her eyes wide.
That
had gotten a response. “How could you know that?” she said defiantly. “I didn’t tell you.”

Sebastian chuckled at her feisty response. “Lexie, you don’t have to say the words for me to know how you feel. It’s in the way you look at me, the way you respond to my touch, the way you lie in my arms after we’ve made love. It’s in your glance, your smile.”

“I didn’t … I don’t—” she sputtered.

“Why are you trying to deny it? Loving someone isn’t shameful, and it’s not something to hide. Not if your partner feels like I do.”

“You don’t understand,” Lexie said bitterly. “You don’t know what he put me through.”

Seb kept his voice even. “I know that you’ve been through a lot and that you’re worried that what you feel for me is going to hurt you.”

“Yes,” Lexie said after a pause, so softly he almost didn’t hear her voice over the wind.

“And you’re scared, so scared that if you let me in, if you acknowledge that what you feel for me is real, I’ll hurt you the way he did.”

“Yes,” she whispered again.

“Let me tell you something, Lexie,” he said, his voice fierce. “I am nothing like Frank Doherty. You understand?
Nothing
.” He nearly growled the word. “I don’t need to keep a woman down to boost myself up. Not to toot my own horn, but I’m rich, powerful, and good-looking.
I could have any woman I want, but I want you.”

“B-but why me?” Lexie said. “If you could have anyone? Why?”

Seb shook his head. Leave it to him to fall for the one woman who didn’t know her own worth. “Lexie,” he said, moving yet another step closer, “you’re the most challenging, unique woman I’ve ever met. You keep me guessing, keep me on my toes. I don’t want to change you or control you or harm you. I just want to be with you. Can you understand that?”

A long time passed. Seb couldn’t be sure how long, but a crow called out from a pine tree high above—an ugly, guttural cry. Sebastian was about to lose faith that Lexie would respond to him. But then, just as he was about to turn away, she nodded jerkily, her ponytailed curls bouncing. “I think so,” she said quietly, “but I can’t help but be scared.” Sebastian was just a hairbreadth away from her. He could reach out, touch her, pull her to him, but he kept himself in check. He needed her approval. Needed her to say yes.

“Lexie, look at me, darling.”

She looked up, obviously forcing herself to meet his gaze.

“Lexie. I love you. I’m not going to hurt you. In fact, it’s more than likely that you’re the one who’s going to hurt me. Rip out my heart and stomp on it. Make me a broken-heart fricassee. Perhaps with some wilted greens on the side. Maybe some potatoes au gratin instead?”

The corners of Lexie’s mouth curved up ever so slightly.

Sebastian stepped forward, erasing the space between them. Gently, he pushed the door all the way open, stepped inside, and wrapped his arms around her. “That’s right, Spice. Smile. This is the way it’s supposed to feel. Pleasure and pain. But mostly pleasure.”

“Oh, Sebastian,” she sobbed into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know, Lexie, I know,” he said, smoothing her hair with one hand. “I’m sorry, too. Sorry I ever let it go this far without getting this out in the open.” He pulled her even closer. “I’m staying with you.”

“Don’t leave me.”

“Never.”

* * *

Nothing ever in her life had felt as good as being wrapped in Sebastian’s strong, capable arms. She was as overwhelmed by the amazing feeling of his strong chest as she was by the fact that she was clinging to it as if her life depended on it.

And he didn’t seem to mind.

It was only natural, then, that he gently lifted her and carried her to her bedroom. Trust, intermingled with sensual excitement, was the only thing she felt as he laid her tenderly on the large bed. The bed she knew would fit his body just as perfectly as he fit hers.