To Love Honour and Disobey

He shook his head the tiniest fraction. ‘Your shoes are ridiculous.’

‘Too tall?’ There was only an inch between them now—both in height and distance. She could almost look him in the eye.

His arm snaked round her back, pulling her in tight. ‘No.’

She was flush against him. Could feel him. Oh-h-h, could she feel him.

‘Just about right.’ His mouth so nearly brushed hers.

But just as abruptly he turned and walked, pulling her quickly out of the store.

Ordinarily Ana would accuse someone moving this fast of being flustered. But Seb never got flustered. People stared as they moved through the departments. But then, they always stared at her. It was just a fact of life when you were taller than most men. But in this dress, these shoes and, yes, the lipstick, she felt a million dollars—all because of the passion she’d just seen in his eyes.

He wanted her. Badly.

So let them stare—she no longer cared.

OK, so maybe most of the stares from the women were aimed at him. And the smiles definitely were. He guided her through the store, gripping the thousand bags in his other hand. She was breathless. Totally turned on high. Definitely wanted to explore the hitherto unrealised potential of the shoes. Stand-up sex—they hadn’t done that on Mnemba. Amazing when she considered they’d done it just about every other way. A wave of pure eroticism trammelled through her. Fiercely she celebrated the freedom that came with the flush of that heat. She could be her own woman—in charge of her own body, her career, her assets and most of all her heart. She could handle him.

She got into the car. Strapped in and checked the mirrors, pulled into the line of traffic and relished the power beneath her fingers and feet.

She could feel Seb’s eyes on her, could see the sexy half-smile on his lips and the way he was turned towards her.

She glanced across to meet his eyes. ‘What?’

Despite his shave he still had an air of dissipation about him. And he spoke with the sort of sultry, hours-spent-in-bed tone that made her bones melt. ‘You suit being in the driver’s seat.’

Chapter Nine

ANA pulled up outside the venue—one of those all-in-one wedding venues. An ex-palace or something with beautiful gardens and old stone walls. She let the car idle.

‘Out you get. I’ll be back in three or so hours.’

Seb stared at her.

She smiled. ‘You didn’t really think I was going to crash your dad’s wedding, did you?’

He didn’t smile back. ‘If you don’t go in. I don’t go in.’ Utterly uncompromising.

‘Seb, this is for your father. This is just one of those things you have to do.’

‘You in or I don’t go.’

‘I can’t. I’m not invited.’

His expression didn’t alter. ‘I’m inviting you.’

‘Seb, I can’t go in. I can’t wear this.’ She inhaled—he didn’t get it, did he? ‘For heaven’s sake, Seb, I’m not wearing a bra.’

He threw his head back and laughed. ‘Oh, honey, I know.’ He laughed some more. ‘What’s the problem? You didn’t wear a bra once in Africa.’

‘That was different. I wore a bikini.’

‘Well, you just walked through one of the busiest stores in London in that outfit and everyone stared because you look so damn hot. Now get out of the car and let’s get this over with.’

Ana’s heart thudded. So damn hot? She felt it. When he looked at her like that she felt it. But this was awful. This was just awful. She’d only dressed up to prod him into going. She’d had no intention of actually going through with it.

He was looking her over, very thoroughly, from head to toe. ‘If you don’t get out of the car now, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.’

Sweating. It was a mid-winter, miserable London day and she was dissolving into a warm puddle. Ana pulled the key from the ignition and gave it to him to pocket. ‘We’re not in Africa now, Seb. Let’s go.’

Out of the car she positioned the wrap around her shoulders—aiming to cover both breasts and the tattoo. He waited on the footpath for her, then walked with his hand at her back as they went in. It was a far bigger do than she’d anticipated and she was ridiculously glad of her ‘touched up’ face and heels and designer dress. Even more glad of the wrap. People smiled at Sebastian, looked interestedly at her when he introduced her as his ‘friend’.

‘Darling!’

‘My mother,’ he muttered in her ear, quickly informing her as the woman rushed forward to greet them.

His mother was here? Wasn’t that awkward?

‘I haven’t seen you in months. What have you been doing? You’ve lost weight.’ She looked at Ana as if it were all her fault.