Scarlett Red: A Billionaire SEAL Story, Part 2 (In the Shadows) (13 page)

If we’re so match-worthy, why the hell didn’t he come after me?
Yeah, I know my annoyance is irrational, but if he’s going to act all intense and possessive after three years of radio silence, I should be allowed some illogical thoughts myself. I’ll bet he came to Hawthorne like all the other single rich men, looking to get laid. But instead, he happened to see me across the room. Random coincidence at its finest.

Sebastian’s arrogance makes me want to punch him, so I glance around the room, scoping out other guys while he slowly spins me to the music. “Oh, I don’t know on the matching thing. I’ve barely scratched the surface here. The night’s still young.”

“Red, Black, and Water.” Sebastian lists the three clues as if he were reading them straight from the back of my invitation.

“How…did you know?” I blink, completely thrown.

He shrugs. “They’re my three favorite things.”

I tense in his arms. “Just because my card happened to have all three of those items doesn’t mean—”

“Aren’t you glad I found my razor, T?” He turns so his mask isn’t blocking my full view of his eyes. Two bright blue eyes stare back at me. Except the left one has a spot of brown.

“B
ash?” I whisper, my steps faltering. That sense of familiarity I just couldn’t shake had been right all along. I want to bitch slap myself for discounting what I knew in my gut, but ignored. I straighten my spine, fury whipping through me and try to stop dancing, but his grip tightens as he continues to move us to the music. “Why the hell were you pretending to be someone else? What kind of mind-fuck game have you been playing with me?”

Sebastian releases a low, sarcastic laugh. “You wrote the book on hiding behind aliases. How many are you up to now? Scarlett? Red?
Miss Lone
? At least I’m consistent in my duplicity.”

“Consistent?” I say, trying not to let my voice get too high. All the things he’d said to me as Bash—Every. Seductive. Word—flashes through my mind. I’m so pissed even his tight hold can’t keep me from resisting. I stop dancing and glare at him. “How is pretending to be someone else
entirely
, consistent? I’d love to hear your answer,
Bash?
”

He shrugs. “It was just easier to
not-be-me
while I filled in for Trevor. Bash is a nickname my Navy buddies gave me. It kind of stuck. That’s what they all call me.”

“Is Trevor a SEAL too?”

Sebastian nods, then narrows his eyes. “You made sure to meet up with my sister, but you couldn’t take the time to meet me for coffee?”

“You’re mad at
me
?”

When I just gape at him, his tone hardens. “Three years aside, have you considered the fact that maybe I should be ticked that you didn’t recognize me as Bash?”

I had gone to meet him at the coffee shop that next day, but I ended up staying out of sight once I overheard that he was getting ready to go off on a mission. Even then, I only saw his profile. “Once you removed your mask in your bedroom that night, the lightning never shined on your whole face, so I never saw it. But despite the changes in your eyes and voice since then, I told you that you reminded me of someone.”

His jaw flexes. “And in all this time you never once tried to look me up?”

Even though he’d framed it as a question. It’s a statement. The brief hurt in his eyes knocks my righteous anger down a peg or two, but then I lift my chin high. He has no idea how hard it was for me
not
to look him up. “Neither did you, so we’re even.”

When he doesn’t contradict my statement, but just stares at me, tension in his jawline, I sigh. “It just occurred to me. You never did say. What
is
Bash’s last name?”

“Black.” Irony flashes in his eyes, his lips quirking slightly. “Consistency, Miss Lone.”

He’d taken on the name I’d given him that night at the party as his alias? When my stomach begins to flutter, I fold my arms, refusing to be drawn in by his seductive skills. “Are you really here to help Trevor?”

He rolls a shoulder. “In a manner of speaking. I’m helping here while he does some work for me. If he likes the job I’ve given him, I’ll bring him on board as a member of BLACK Security.”

BLACK Security?
He named his business Black?
Before I can dwell too much on that mind-blowing tidbit, I tighten my tone to keep myself focused. “Security? You said you protect assets.”

“We do. Among other things,” he says, trailing his fingers lightly down my arm.

I can’t believe he thinks I’m just going to ignore his deception over the last couple of days. I pull away from his touch. “Is there
anything
you said to me as Bash that wasn’t some kind of half-truth?” Before he can answer, I expel a sigh of disappointment. “I was really starting to like him.”

He stiffens as if I’ve slapped him, bright blue gaze sharpening. “Bash might’ve told you he wanted you, but he’d wait for you to come around. And we both know that never would’ve happened. I know that isn’t what you want.” He steps close until his chest touches mine. I hold my breath, hoping he can’t feel my heart thudding like I’ve run a marathon. “You want to relinquish control. For me to make you come until you beg me to stop.
Me
, not Bash. If that makes me a bastard for wanting that time back that you walked away from three years ago, I don’t give a damn.”

He clasps my hand and twists the ring on my finger. “Before you commit yourself to some asshole who doesn’t know jack about taking you to places you’ve never thought you’d go, I want you all to myself. Not for hours. For the rest of your time here.”

While my insides rev at the thought of days in Sebastian’s bed, he slides his fingers along my jaw, then thumbs my chin upward, forcing me to look at him. “Will you give me that time we lost? I’ve never wanted anything more.” His hold tightens slightly against my cheek. “Let me show you what it means to be owned by your desires. To be fully kept, by me.”

Fully kept?
He thinks I didn’t give myself to him completely before? Granted, he has no clue that I’ve never forgotten him, or that he’s buried so deep in my thoughts, I might as well have a “sole property of Sebastian Quinn” tattoo on my ass, but what else could he possibly have done to make me fully his? The burning question and erotic possibilities turn my insides to mush.

But all the desire in the world can’t push away the anger still simmering. Nothing about his arousing declaration changes the fact he’s lied to me for two days straight. He knew who I was, and yet he’d pretended that he didn’t. “Why didn’t you say who you were once you recognized me?”

When a stubborn look settles on his face and a muscle begins to jump along his jaw, I realize he’s not going to answer. “Fine.” I start to walk away, but my sandal’s buckle suddenly gives way, pitching me sideways into a dancing couple.

“I’m so sorry,” I say to them just as a strong arm encircles my waist.

“I’ve got you,” Sebastian says against my ear.

Balancing on only one good stiletto, I don’t have a choice but to let him lead me out of the crowd. Sebastian doesn’t say another word, other than to press me to his side once I take off the broken sandal. Instead of letting me walk on my tip-toe across the dance floor, he lifts me a few inches and carries me off the dance floor like I’m a life-sized, standup poster.

With no seats to be found in the ballroom, he carries me outside and past the elevators to an alcove with a potted plant and a console table.

“This will have to do,” he says. Setting his mask on the table, he holds his hand out. “Lean against the table and I’ll refasten it for you.”

I set my mask beside his, then hold the shoe up to inspect it. “It’s probably broken.” It turns out my shoe isn’t damaged at all. Apparently I hadn’t done a very good job pushing the tab through the tiny buckle. Wishing we could’ve found a couch or a chair so I could do it myself, I sigh and hand him my shoe.

When I lean against the table and raise my foot up for him, Sebastian lifts the hem of my dress at the open slit and then tucks the material in my opposite hand resting on the edge of the table. “Hold this out of the way.”

Grasping the hem, I try not to think about how much of my leg is exposed. Instead, as Sebastian kneels down on one knee, I stare at his close-trimmed black hair. It’s back to the way I remember. Then I allow my gaze to wander over the expensive tux stretched across his broad shoulders. The man really is both massive in size and striking in his devastating good looks. He’s so damn hot, I want to smack the top of his head for lying to me these past couple of days, then kiss him for just being freaking real and not a figment of my imagination.

I bite my lip when Sebastian runs the pad of his thumb along the arch of my foot, his warm fingers folding around the edge in a firm hold. The angry part of me wants to tell him to hurry up, but the twisted part of me that has never let him go silently begs me to enjoy every second of this.

He hesitates like he’s waiting for me to pull away, then he applies even more pressure along my arch. Shivers dance across my skin, and I have to work hard to remain relaxed in his hold. Let him think I’m not affected.

When he slides my shoe on and quickly buckles it, disappointment makes my chest ache. “Thanks,” I say and start to lower my foot from his knee, but his warm fingers encircle my ankle, holding me in place as he continues to stare at my foot.

“I didn’t tell you who I was, because you’d already rejected me once. Why would I give you a chance to do that again?”

Rejected him? What is he talking about?
“I don’t understand—”

“Don’t talk.” His fingers cinch around my ankle, then relax. “Just listen.”

Sliding his thumb along my shin, he firmly massages my calf muscle with his fingers. “When you didn’t recognize me, as much as I didn’t like it, it also occurred to me that Bash had an opportunity with you that, for whatever reason, I’d blown.”

He must be talking about the fact that I didn’t meet him for coffee. Damn!
“Sebastian, that’s not what—”

He grips my calf muscle tight. “Let me finish.”

Exhaling, I clamp my lips shut.

His grip eases and his fingers trace higher, sliding behind my knee. “You were different with Bash, and I’ve always wondered if my…intensity scared you away.”

Folding his thumb around the bend of my knee, he traces small circles on my sensitive skin. “I need control. It grounds me. I can’t explain it beyond that.” He releases a low, self-deprecating laugh. “I’ve never had to explain myself to anyone before, but for you, I’ll try.”

His declaration melts away my anger.
I would’ve lied for two days straight too if it meant spending time with you, Sebastian.
I can’t help myself. I slide my fingers into his silky hair.

He tenses, then exhales sharply. Moving his hand higher, he clasps my thigh in a possessive hold. “I wanted to know what it would take to get you to open up? I thought that Bash could strip away all your reservations, but the more time we spent together, I began to hate the bastard.”

“Why?” I ask, my fingers sliding free of his hair.

He jerks his head up, bright blue eyes boring into me. “The Bash you were getting to know would be too soft with you. Too careful. Too fucking restrained. And that’s not me. When it comes to sex, the real me is gritty and intense. Using kid gloves isn’t what I want. Nor is it what you need.”