A Million Different Ways (Horn Duet 1)

“Hi, I’m Ben Winters,” he said in a smooth deep baritone. I pushed off the column and stood straight.

“Hello. Mr. Horn mentioned you were arriving this evening.”

He ducked his head to hear me better as he followed me inside. “Where is the sunuvabit…I mean––is he in his study, ma’am?” he drawled, his expression charmingly unrepentant. Mr. Winters was a lady-killer. I didn’t need to see or hear any more to know that. A voice called to me from somewhere down the hall.

“Vera, where are you sneaking off to?” The snickering voice drew closer. “Is that Daniel you’re going to hide in a corner with? Oh, Daniel,” she teased. I turned to face the owner of the snickering voice. Charlotte walked up with her hands on her hips, ready to poke fun at whomever I was with. Then Mr. Winters turned around.

They stood before each other as if someone hit the pause button on a video. I stifled a laugh. A wide-eyed astonished look was frozen on Charlotte’s face. I’d never seen her speechless before––didn’t even think it was possible.

Mr. Winters, on the other hand, was doing a great impression of an ice sculpture. The only sign of life was the rosy glow visible on his sharp cheekbones.

“Charlotte, this is Mr. Ben Winters. He’s a guest of Mr. Horn’s.”

Crickets. Until the door to Sebastian’s study swung open and he stepped out. His eyes jumped from me, to Ben, to Charlotte.

“Ben?” Sebastian’s voice broke the spell. Mr. Winters turned around and the two men hugged, pounding each other on the back loudly.

How in the world did they not break bones doing that? Amazing what men mistake for affection. When the pounding finally ceased, Sebastian slung an arm around Mr. Winters and turned to face me. A bright smile stretched across his face. In return, my knees almost buckled. His face transformed to a whole new level of gorgeous when he smiled like that.

“Vera, this is my best friend Ben,” he announced cheerfully, slapping poor Mr. Winters on the chest as he spoke.

“You mean, your only friend,” Mr. Winters smirked.

There was enough testosterone in the room to fuel the western hemisphere, impossible to ignore. And the contrast between them was intriguing. Mr. Winters still had the casual, rough edges of an American, his handsomeness rugged and raw, while Sebastian had honed all that into strict, lethal masculine elegance. Mr. Winters was all easy smiles and open charm. Sebastian, on the other hand, kept everyone at a distance, not welcoming female attention in any way. Beneath the stunning facades, though, there was a common virtue––both men were profoundly comfortable with who they were.

I grinned like the village idiot. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

His large hand engulfed mine. “Call me Ben, please.”

Charlotte still had that deer-in-headlights look about her. After an awkward moment of silence, I reiterated, “And may I introduce Charlotte.”

Mr. Winters’ face turned grave as he grasped Charlotte’s hand and shook it. I glanced at Sebastian and found a quizzical look on his face. When his eyes met mine, I shrugged, unsure what to think myself.

“Come on, Ben. We have a lot to catch up on.”

Grabbing Charlotte’s elbow, I steered her towards the kitchen. Behind me, I could hear Mr. Winters trying to reduce his deep baritone to a whisper.

“Jeeezus H, how do you not walk around here with a constant hard––” I looked over my shoulder and Mr. Winters’ caught me watching. His eyebrows lifting a fraction, he muttered, “Never mind,” before the door to Sebastian’s study closed.

* * *

It was just past eleven. I knew that because I had been glancing at the clock every fifteen minutes while I read a French version of Jane Austen’s Persuasion. Well, I was attempting to read it. I kept finding myself on the same page over and over again, not remembering a single word. It had taken every ounce of willpower I possessed to stop myself from going to his room. And I was paying the price for it now. I was unfocused, I was in a horrible mood, and my body ached for him.

When the door creaked, I held my breath. Sebastian stepped inside and quietly closed it behind him, locking it afterwards. A pang of relief shot through me, quickly followed by barely contained excitement. He leaned back against the wall with his hands tucked behind him. My undoubtedly hungry gaze did a slow perusal of his long body. From his bare feet, up the black track pants hanging on his lean hips, and over the stunning breadth of his bare chest. Just looking at him altered the chemistry of my body.

A storm was gathering strength in his eyes. He was mad and I couldn’t have cared less. He looked so good it took everything I had not to leap on him and cover his sullen mouth with kisses. Then I remembered I wasn’t dressed for a visit.