The Alpha's Baby (2 page)

As she shook her head, she allowed herself to be led inside the building and into the elevator. While Sebastian stood silently at her side, she gazed at his hand and noted that there was no wedding ring on his finger. As she grinned, the elevator started to move and she teetered to the right.

In movies, heroines always fell gracefully as the handsome hero caught them in his muscular arms. Unfortunately for her, she was about as graceful as a frog drunk on whiskey. She crashed straight into Sebastian, her arms flailing wildly, and ended up with her nose squashed between his pecs.

"Sorry." She glanced at his face.

It could have been her imagination, but during that moment, she could swear that something changed inside of him. His beautiful eyes both darkened and widened all at once, then his way-too-kissable mouth dropped open as he let out a gasp of air.

"It's you," he whispered, his sweet breath warming her face.

"Of course it's me." She waved her hand in front of his face. "Earth to Sebastian."

Instead of coming back to reality, Sebastian continued to gaze down at her face as if she'd sprouted antenna, horns, and a third nostril. Just when she was truly starting to question his sanity, the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. Sebastian woke up a little—she still had her doubts that he was one hundred percent coherent—and began to guide her out of the elevator. Even as they hobbled together like a strange, demented animal, Sebastian kept casting glances at her as if he wasn't sure she was really there.

"Are you okay?" she asked, even as her own leg throbbed.

He didn't answer. Instead he just stared at her, dazed.

Suddenly, she began to worry that going to Sebastian's apartment was a bad idea after all. He was starting to act a little crazy. At one hundred and fifty pounds, she had more meat on her than some girls, but that didn't mean that a man Sebastian's size couldn't overpower her and peel off her skin as if she was a human orange.

She shivered in horror and disgust. God, she had to get a grip on her overactive imagination. Now she was terrifying herself.

"Emmy," Sebastian finally said.

"Uh-huh?" She stared at him.

"Nothing," he said. "I just wanted to say your name."

The words made her gasp. He sounded almost whimsical.

"Okay." She frowned at him, unsure of what she was supposed to say to that.

Fortunately, Sebastian finally came to a stop in front of apartment 209, giving her a distraction from her confusion. Light returned to his eyes. Still, he was blinking rapidly and she swore he looked a tad feverish.

Despite his potential fever, he had the sense of mind to unlock his apartment door. A true gentleman, he held the door open for her. She hesitated briefly before entering his place. Once inside, she gasped in shock as she examined her surroundings. Sebastian was without a doubt OCD. His apartment, carpeted in all white, was sparkling. A black leather couch sat in front of a large television. A coffee table, so shiny she could have used it as a mirror, was positioned in front of the sofa. The kitchen, which adjoined with the living room, didn't have so much as a plate left out on the counter. She wasn't exactly Miss Messy, but she didn't scrub and polish until her hand fell off either. Now she was terrified of even sitting down, especially since her rear end couldn't possibly be as clean as Sebastian's shimmering couch.

"You're place is clean." Clean being the understatement of the year. She wondered if he'd have a heart attack if he saw her apartment.

"I like to keep things orderly." He motioned at the couch. "Please sit down."

She glanced at the blood dribbling down her leg and hesitated. He followed her gaze.

"Don't worry about the blood," he said, correctly guessing why she wore such a concerned expression. "I know how to get it out of my carpet."

The words made her stiffen. "How do you know that?"

"I think everybody has had blood on their carpet sometime or another." His face gave nothing away. "Scratches and cuts happen to everyone, right?"

"I suppose." She shrugged.

Finally, she made her way over to the sofa and sat down. As she stretched out her leg, Sebastian went into the kitchen. She heard the sound of running water and a moment later he returned with a white towel.

He headed over to her. "We need to clean the injury."

Nodding, she reached for the towel, but to her surprise, he sunk to his knees in front of her and gently ran the wet towel along her blood-drenched skin. When he reached her wound, he gave her an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry," he said. "This might hurt a little."

"Just get it over with." She waved away his concerns. "At work, I get injures all the time. In fact, just yesterday I was burned on the—"

He pressed the towel against her knee.

"Son of a bitch!" she wailed at the top of her lungs.

Wincing, he pulled back.

"I'll go grab some more towels." He rose to his feet.

"Better yet, get me a tranquilizer," she said.

The man made a noise that sounded like a mix between a chuckle and a moan.

As she groused, he disappeared down the hall. She glared at her knee, half wishing that she could will away the pain. When Sebastian reappeared a moment later, he was carrying more towels.

"I'm afraid I don't have any bandages or antiseptic," he said. "I've never had much use for them."

"You've had blood on your carpet, but you don't have a use for bandages?" She studied him, frowning.

Sebastian just chuckled. "Let's wrap a towel around your knee until it stops bleeding. After that, I'll walk you back to your car."

"That could take a while," she said. "Are you sure that's okay with you?"

"I'm in good company, so I don't mind." The guy flashed a charming, roguish smile.

Something happened to her then that hadn't happened in years—her heart thundered. To make matters worse, creatures were raging in her stomach that were much larger than fluttering butterflies. Oh no, no, no. Her heart wasn't allowed to pound for a sexy and heroic stranger. After all, he was so far out of her league that it was laughable. Though she held herself in high regard, she knew that a fish and a merman weren't adequate mates.

"Good to see you're back to normal," she muttered under her breath, desperate to distract herself from her racing heart and the animals parading around in her stomach. "You were acting pretty weird for a moment there."

"Sorry about that," he said. "I had a rather pleasant surprise and it dazed me."

Surprise? What surprise? "Care to share?"

"It's a secret." He pressed a finger to his lips.

"I hate secrets," she said. "I like to know everything about everyone."

His grin became fixed. "You also like to be extremely honest."

"Isn't it better that way?" she asked. "At least if I have a problem with you, I'm going to say it to your face and not behind your back."

"True," he said.

"And I can
honestly
say that you're a very strange guy," she admitted.

"I think I can honestly say that, too."

Both of them exchanged looks and laughed.

****

They ordered dinner.

Emmy's knee had stopped bleeding an hour and a half before, so she really could have gone home. Despite that, when Sebastian had suggested they order pizza, she couldn't say no. Just because she was a fish and he was a merman didn't mean that she couldn't enjoy some good quality ogling. After all, when would she have the opportunity to hang out with Mr. Handsome again?

"It's so nice that you're a woman who appreciates the benefits of ordering a pizza with extra cheese," Sebastian said, grinning.

"Well, the cheese is the best part." Even the thought of oozing mozzarella made her lick her lips.

"I think the crust is the best part."

She did a double take. "Please tell me you're kidding."

"What?" Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "If pizza is made right, the crust is hot and doughy."

"You're wrong," she said. "No matter how well made the pizza is, the best part is always the cheese."

"Nope." He shook his head. "The cheese is good, but the crust is better."

She draped herself dramatically over the side of the couch, feigning horror. "Here I was thinking that we were going to have a beautiful friendship, but then you go and say something atrocious like that."

"I think we'll still find a way to make this work." The man grinned. 

"I don't know." She heaved a massive sigh. "Liking the crust best should be considered a felony."

He pressed his wrists together and offered them to her to handcuff. "Lock me up and throw away the key."

Groaning, she glared at him as if he was deserving of a hundred-year prison sentence. "It's no less than you deserve."

Chuckling, Sebastian rose to his feet.

"What if I give you a glass of wine?" he asked. "Will that help my case?"

"I have to drive." No way would she drive under the influence.

"Good point." Sebastian paused.

For a moment she stared up at him, and then she considered the benefits of wine drinking. Her leg still hurt, so alcohol might help ease her suffering. Besides, she liked the idea of sitting beside Sebastian, her fingers curled around the delicate stem of a glass.

"I could take a taxi," she said.

"Are you sure?" Sebastian frowned in uncertainty.

"I always say what I mean." And sometimes she considered that a fault.

His grin widened. "In that case, mademoiselle, would you prefer red or white wine?"

"Red." She shrugged. "It goes better with pizza."

"Red it is." Sebastian took a step back. "And if you're lucky, I might dig out ice cream from the freezer for dessert. That, I think, would go excellent with wine as well."

"You know what, despite your bad judgment when it comes to pizza crust, I think our relationship might work out after all," she said.

As Sebastian turned around, she swore she heard him say, "I'm counting on it."

No, that must have been her imagination.

"Great, now I'm hearing things," she muttered under her breath.

As she drummed her fingers on the table, Sebastian materialized within moments with two glasses and a bottle of wine. He took a seat and poured her a huge glass of wine. As she took what he offered, she sighed in bliss.

"I love how you don't skimp on the serving size." She sipped the bittersweet liquid.

"Well, I just hope you're not a lightweight." He poured himself a glass just as large.

"To be honest, I am," she admitted. "I don't drink much."

"Hmmm." He eyeballed her glass, his eyes dark with concern.

"Don't worry about me," she said, hoping she'd read his expression correctly. "I'm going home in a taxi, remember? As long as I can still use my legs by the end of the evening, I should be okay."

"I'll make sure that your legs are fully functioning at the end of the night." He nodded solemnly. "I'll also escort you to your place personally."

"You don't have to do that!" Escorting her would be way too much trouble.

"I'm a gentleman," he said.

She nodded in agreement. "Maybe I should take a picture of you for memorabilia's sake. I hear your kind is on the brink of extinction."

"Go ahead. Take a photo." He struck a pose. "Hell, I'll even give you an autograph."

She snorted and took a huge gulp of alcohol, thinking,
Boy, Sebastian can be as charming as hell when he wants to be.

"You're so generous." She grinned at him.

The man straightened up and winked. "You have no idea."

"And so humble."

"That too." He gave a rakish grin. "But I have many other redeeming qualities."

"Such as?" She counted being unbelievably handsome as one, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

To her surprise, Sebastian touched her hand, his eyes fixed on hers. "Do you want a list?"

She shook her head. "Don't trouble yourself."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all." He began to count on his fingers. "I'm smart. I have leadership skills. I'm protective—"

"Gentlemanly," she chimed in, then drained her glass of wine.

"Gentlemanly," he agreed, then poured her another glass. He waved at her drink. "Generous, too."

"Nice to see you don't have a swelled head."

"Of course not." Sebastian chuckled, then leaned back.

Grinning, she stared down into her wine.

"Tastes good, right?" He smirked at her.

"Best wine I've ever tasted."

He pushed the bottle toward her. "Have as much as you like."

And she did too.

****

Either Emmy had drunk too much or the world had been submerged underwater in the past half hour. As she swayed on the couch, Sebastian sat across from her. She stared at him and thought,
He's too damn good-looking.
And unfortunately, after how much wine she'd drunk, she'd lost her ability to keep her mouth shut.

"Do you know how handsome you are?" Emmy meant to pat his arm, but her hand somehow ended up on his chest instead. Oops. Had she done that?

"You're too kind." Sebastian studied her, grinning. "Though I'm afraid I should probably take you home. I think we've both had too much to drink."

Sebastian stood up and took a step, but she seized his arm before she even realized what she was doing. A tantalizingly sweet odor enveloped her nostrils, making her half forget why she'd grabbed him in the first place…Oh, wait, now she remembered. She didn't want to leave.

"Not yet." She buried her fingers into his arm. "I don't want to go."

"You have to work in the morning. You told me," he said, his voice laced with concern.

Wrinkling her nose, Emmy staggered to her feet. Unfortunately, if her balance was poor when she was sober, it was even worse when she was drunk. She was forced to cling to him like a barnacle to stone. Instead of pulling away like she expected—and even she had to admit that she was
really
close—he wrapped an arm around her, holding her against him. She'd been feeling swirls of desire the entire evening, but now those swirls became wild, spinning typhoons of molten heat. All she wanted to do was feel every inch of him beneath her fingertips. She gasped, shocked by her train of thought. She wasn't normally the type of woman who had trouble fighting her sexual urges. Sure, she ogled as much as the next person, but this was different because she wanted something besides an imaginary fling.