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Authors: Jane Harvey-Berrick

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He stopped mid sentence, looking embarrassed, and wishing he could bite back the words.

 

“Maybe all your previous women, Sebastian,” I replied, rather cuttingly, “but no, not me, I don’t.”

 

Wisely, h
e buried his eyes in the menu.

 

“Sebastian, apart from you, I last had a date nearly three years ago. And there
’s not a lot of need for slinky underwear on assignment to military bases – well, not for me, anyway. Maybe you know differently?” and I raised my eyebrows at him.

 

“Why don
’t you date, Caro?” he asked, looking up, his voice puzzled. “I mean, you’re fucking gorgeous, anyone can see that, and you’re clever and funny. Any man would have to be blind not to want you.”

 

And I
realized he meant it. Would I ever get used to hearing him say things like that to me? I hoped not.

 

“I
’ve just… not been that interested. No one’s really caught my eye.”

 

He shook his head in amazement.

 

“Oh, wait, Major Parsons asked me out: Mike. He was pretty cute,” I said, casually glancing at Sebastian.

 

“That fucking bastard!” he snarled, sounding really angry.

 

“Sebastian, I said no. And actually, he was really sweet about it. He wasn’t pushy or anything.”

 

I was regretting making Sebastian jealous, but damn, it made me feel wanted. And I really wasn
’t used to that.

 

I decided to change the subject before his temper spoiled our meal.

 

“What were you thinking, that first day, when we saw each other at the press training? You looked really mad.”

 

His gaze became distant, remember
ing the day, only one week ago.

 

“Just so fucking shocked. I saw the name
‘Lee Venzi’ on the training list. I recognized it because I’d read some of your articles…”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah, sure. I check out all the journos who go on these gigs. I want to know what kind of shit… sorry, what kind of writing they do. I thought yours was good.”

 

I
shot him a look.

 

“No, really. I
’m not just saying that. I kind of assumed you were ex-forces because of the way you understood the military. And we were all expecting you’d be a guy. Obviously somebody screwed up on the background checks. But as far as your online presence, you’re definitely a man.”

 

I smiled serenely at him. “That
’s the general idea. I’ve had quite a few assignments given to me because people assume I’m a man; jobs they wouldn’t give to a woman.”

 

Sebastian frowned at me. “Yeah, but there could be a good reason for it, too. I mean, some of the places you go are dangerous and…”

 

I caught his hand and placed my fingers over his lips.

 

“Sh
h, tesoro. They’re a lot less dangerous than where you go, and we’re not having this conversation.”

 

He scowled and started to argue.

 

“No, I mean it. This is my work. Please drop it.”

 

He didn
’t look happy about it, but he didn’t argue further either; instead he gave me a look that said the discussion wasn’t over, merely postponed.

 

“You were going to tell me what you thought when you first saw me,” I reminded him.

 

“Shock. At first I thought you’d done it deliberately somehow. And then I saw the look on your face, like you didn’t know what to say to me either, and I realized it was just as weird for you as it was for me.”

 

“And then?”

 

“I just kept thinking how mad I was at you; blaming you for all the shit. I kept trying to hold on to all that anger, but you just looked so… you looked just the same. And I kept thinking, maybe I got it wrong. And then I remembered that you hadn’t come looking for me and… it was so fucking confusing, Caro.”

 

He stared out at the
water washing over the beach.

 

“And then you tried to talk to me
and I just freaked. I couldn’t… not in front of all those people, not with all the things I wanted to… I found a bar and just started drinking… getting up the courage to go see you. I really screwed that up, didn’t I?”

 

“Royally,” I said, nodding my head.

 

He looked apologetic and stared at his hands.

 

“I
t doesn’t matter now, Sebastian,” I said, quietly.

 

He shook off the memory, but I could tell it
still bothered him.

 

“What did you think, when you saw me?”
he said.

 

“You mean after the oh-my-God moment? I thought you looked bitter: your eyes look
ed so cold and hard. Gorgeous, of course; but you looked like you’d really changed. I was… intimidated. And then Liz told me you’d got this reputation… as something of a lady-killer…”

 

Sebastian scowled.

 

“Well, you did ask.”

 

“Yeah, well… what else did you think?”

 

“She said you were brilliant, too, if that makes you feel any better.”

 

“Not much.”

 

I sighed. “I just thought I’d try and talk to you by yourself, but you kept avoiding me. So, I assumed you didn’t want anything to do with me. I was… hurt, but I guess I accepted it. Can we talk about something else? This is making me feel blue.”

 

“Sure, baby,” he said, smiling softly. “How about we plan the rest of the trip?”

 

I smiled back. “Yes, please.”

 

He reached over to
his jacket, which was hanging from the back of his chair, and pulled out the map.

 

“Well, it
’s up to you, Caro. We could keep going down the coast road to Salerno, look up your dad’s old village. Or take it slower, go see some of Tuscany. Siena is supposed to be amazing and there’s this old hilltop town, Montepulciano that looks really cool. Or go right down to the bottom – check out Sicily.”

 

“What do you want to do, Sebastian? I don
’t mind having another day on the beach if you want to do some more surfing – it’s your vacation, too.”

 

“Nah, that
’s okay – it’s going to be flat tomorrow – I already checked.”

 

I rolled my eyes. “Of course. Silly me.”

 

“It’s about 200 miles to your dad’s village. We could be there this time tomorrow. If you want.”

 

I thought about it for a moment. I was probably investing too much in what would inevitably be a big disappointment.

 

“No, let’s take it easy. I’d like to see some more of Tuscany. I’ve heard of Montepulciano: they have good wine. And honey.”

 

He smiled at me, amused. “How come you know all this food stuff?”

 

I stared back as if, for once,
he
was missing the blindingly obvious. “I’m Italian, Sebastian.”

 

He laughed out loud
, and swept my hand off the table to kiss my fingers.

 

The waiter arrived with our order, interrupting our moment, although he smiled apologetically.

 

The food, including Sebastian’s enormous Bistecca Alla Fiorentina steak with fries, was good, and we were quiet for several minutes as we ate.

 

I toyed with my question for some time.

 

“What is it?” said Sebastian, at last, laying down his knife and fork.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You have that look on your face – like you want to ask me something. You can ask me anything, Caro.”

 

I was amazed: people didn
’t usually read me that well. But then again, Sebastian knew me better than anyone. How strange.

 

“Well, there was something… did you mean what you said about quitting the Marines?”

 

“Sure. I mean, I re-upped two years ago, so I’d have to do another two before I punch out…”

 

Disappointment flood
ed through me.
Two more years
.

 

“Do you think you
’d have to do another tour in Afghanistan?”

 

He looked at me thoughtfully.

 

“I don’t know, Caro. Most guys wouldn’t be sent out again that quickly, but… well, they’re short of interpreters, especially non-locals, and military intelligence....”

 

He stopped abruptly, realizing he
’d said too much.

 

“Sebastian, whatever you tell me, that
’s between us. I would
never
use it in my work.”

 

“I know that, baby, but there are some things
I can’t tell you… and some things that it’s better you don’t know.”

 

I wasn
’t happy that there were secrets between us, but I understood.

 

“They
’re not going to be pleased that you’re dating a journalist.”

 

He glanced away, briefly
, then smiled at me. “Nope. Don’t think so, although they couldn’t stop me...”

 

“So… I guess it would be better to keep this between us, just for now
?”

 

He nodded, then
leaned back in his chair.

 

“Would
you
give it up, Caro? Working in war zones, traveling all over the world?”

 

I
’d been waiting for him to ask me that question, but I still didn’t know how I was going to answer it. The truth was: I didn’t want to give it up. I’d worked hard to achieve the position I’d reached – and I enjoyed it. Yes, my work took me into dangerous areas, but it was rare that I was on the frontline; not like Sebastian. Oh, yes: my hypocrisy knew no bounds.

 

So, what was the compromise? He gave up everything and I gave up nothing? But if I did give up my work, how long would it be before I felt resentful and tied down.
And
he wanted us to have kids. Whatever he said about ‘seeing what happened’, I knew that was high on his list of priorities.

 

“I wouldn
’t want to give it up completely, Sebastian, that’s the truth. But I could agree to a maximum amount of time I spent away in a year, maybe.”

 

He nodded slowly and sighed. “Ok
ay, I guess.”

 

He stood up and stretched, gazing around the restaurant.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“Restroom. I
’m hoping they have machines that sell rubbers.”

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