The Seduction of Sebastian St. James (22 page)

“He had escaped. My father and I recognized his face as well as his clothing as he jumped out the window. Her father had no idea, and neither did she. It was a secret I planned on taking to my grave.”

Sebastian swallowed the knot in his throat. “Did he…”

“No, we were in time, but that does not mean she bears no scars.”

Fighting the urge to take a swing at Rawlings despite the wisdom of his words, Sebastian raised his hand to his aching temples. “And her reputation?”

“Ah yes, another sad ending to our tale. Nobody believed her.”

“I don’t understand?”

Rawlings’ bitter laugh sent a chill down Sebastian’s back. “Her own family thought she invited him, that she encouraged his intentions. My father and I, we knew the truth, but I guess loyalty won out. So we let them believe it and sent John back home. My father took the secret to the grave. Not only did it give me a way out of our engagement contract, but I was free to live life on my own terms. The only sacrifice I made was the heart of one of my dearest childhood friends. Too selfish to care, I left and never looked back.”

“Until the ball.”

Rawlings looked him straight in the eyes. “Yes, until the ball. Guilt came back full force, that and my desire to make things right. Especially after finding out you were just using her for your own personal gain.”

“She agreed!” Sebastian yelled. “And would it not be to your personal benefit that her dowry would restore your family wealth?”

Rawlings rolled his eyes. “Does it honestly matter anymore, Seb?”

An aching remorse and guilt gnawed at Sebastian until he felt he would explode. No, she didn’t deserve it. Yes she had agreed and it was all in good fun, but then things had started to shift between them. He knew, of course he knew, he wasn’t an idiot. He should have called things off before either of them got hurt, instead he continued to play with her heart as well as his own, assuming she was a wild child in need of adventure and a good set down. Never once did it cross his mind that he would do such irreparable damage.

“What if we’re too late,” Sebastian asked, stealing another glance at his old friend.

“I’ll kill him,” Rawlings answered nonchalantly.

His admission surprised Sebastian. “Do you not recall asking me minutes ago to spare his life?”

“Only because I claim his death for myself. I refuse to let him ruin Emma’s life or anyone else’s any longer. I refuse to keep protecting him. You have no idea what I’ve lived with.” Rawlings eyes turned fierce. “Emma isn’t the first person he’s hurt, but she will be his last.”

There was more to Rawlings’ confession. More family history and deeper wounds than he cared to ask about. What mattered now was finding Emma and making sure she was safe.

The thought occurred to him that her reputation was in tatters by now. It was impossible to keep a secret in the
ton
.

He would make it right. He had to.

****

Emma coughed until she thought she would be sick. Although the carriage was covered, the dirt from the road had somehow managed to creep into her lungs. They had been traveling for twelve hours, and John had refused to give her anything to drink, lest he have to stop.

Starving and desperate, she shot a prayer up to heaven that someone would save her, that if someone got her out of this dreadful situation she would try to be a better person.

Struggling against her fear and the feeling of rejection when Sebastian had placed the necklace across her chest, she let out a little whimper. A single tear rushed down her cheek. Quickly she wiped it away, and then the carriage stopped.

“Ah, we’ve arrived!” John’s enthusiasm caused Emma’s stomach to clench.

Emma followed him out of the carriage, her eyes quickly looked around for someone of authority she could yell at. Anyone who would believe she was being kidnapped.

“Don’t even think about it,” John whispered in her ear. It was then she felt the knifepoint behind her back. “Scream and I scar that beautiful body of yours.”

Keeping silent, Emma walked in with John, biting her lip to keep from crying as he ordered the innkeeper to ready a room. “We are to be married as soon as possible,” he said.

The innkeeper took a look at Emma then back at John. “I see. Well the first ceremony cannot take place until the morning. I’m sorry. That is the best I can do.”

Johns nostrils flared, his eyes blazed.

“But, darling,” Emma said through ragged breaths. “Why not stay up and have some ale before the morning. I know I would love something to quench my parched lips.” Even though it nearly killed her, she leaned in to him and placed a kiss across his cheek, desperately praying that the idea of getting drunk was enough to prolong their stay. She needed all the time she could get, that is if anyone was coming after her.

John’s eyes flickered to the men drinking around him. “Well, maybe just a few then.”

“Splendid.” The innkeeper smiled. “Allow me to direct you to your rooms then?”

Emma followed, though she wondered if the innkeeper thought it odd she carried no clothes with her or anything of importance.

“That will be all.” John slammed the door in the innkeepers face, giving Emma a startle as she jumped away from him.

John ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ll just see to the horses then and have some bread sent up. Don’t try to escape, Emma. You won’t appreciate the consequences.”

Nodding, she turned her back to him as he exited the room, slamming the door behind her. Moments later one of the workers at the inn walked in with some bread, cheese, and tea. They also started a fire and asked if she needed anything else.

Rescuing? A knife to stab John with?

Shaking her head, she watched as her last hope walked out of the room. Emma went over to the chair by the fireplace and sat, too tired and numb to move. The only way out was to wait and see if John would get foxed enough for her to slip past him in the early morning.

Managing to warm herself by the fire, she allowed her body to try to catch some sleep. After all, there was nothing she could do. At least not yet, not until John had passed out.

Emma dreamed of Sebastian’s smile. The way his body seemed to cover hers, to protect her. His dimples and his laughter, her body ached for him. She awoke with tears streaming down her face and his name on her lips.

“Sebastian,” she choked.

“Shh…”

Snapping her eyes open, she scanned her surroundings. Everything was pitch black, but she felt his hands.

The same sure hands she had felt during blind man’s bluff were firmly placed over hers, warming her and comforting her to the core.

Safe, she was safe.

A loud thud sounded followed by a muffled curse.

Emma tensed under Sebastian’s hands. And then she heard a familiar man’s voice say, “I’ve got him, Seb. It’s fine.”

Letting out the breath she had been holding, Emma finally took a look at her surroundings. Everything was still blanketed in black and then a match was lit, as well as the fire. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light and she saw.

Sebastian was in front of her, and to her utter shock, Rawlings was standing over John’s body.

“Is he…” Emma didn’t want to finish the sentence.

Rawlings grunted. “No, though he deserves it. We have the local magistrate on his way.”

“Emma.” The voice belonged to Sebastian. Why was it she couldn’t bear to look at him? To make eye contact with the one man who held her heart and who had saved her? “Did he hurt you, Emma?”

“No.” Her voice was small.

“Emma. Rest, sweet Emma. We shall talk in the morning. You are safe.”

“Stay,” she found herself saying and then clenching onto his arms as if he was her only lifeline.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Rawlings spoke first. “I’ll let the innkeeper know the bride’s brother and cousin have arrived then.” He left the room abruptly. Emma collapsed against Sebastian’s chest, exhausted. She felt his arms surround her as he carried her to the bed.

A soft mattress swallowed her up, and without thinking, she pulled at Sebastian to join her. This was not a night she wanted to spend alone.

Slowly, the bed sank under the weight of him. Sighing, he pulled her into his body and brushed the hair out of her face. “Sleep, Emma. Just sleep.”

In her defense she tried.

Tossing and turning, half tempted to hit Sebastian across the face like she would a pillow that had lost its fluff.

“Emma,” Sebastian warned when she turned to face him.

Fascinating how the dark seemed to make one more brave. Tentatively she reached out her hand and nearly gasped aloud when it came into contact with his smooth jaw. Tracing the outline of his face with her fingertips, she allowed her body to relax.

She felt him swallow, could sense the desire humming from his body. But she wasn’t afraid, nor did she want to leave.

This was the one place in the world she wanted to be. And after today he would leave her forever. The ruse was over. He had no need for her anymore. John had truly ruined everything worth hoping for in her life.

So just this once, she wanted to do something for her and forget the consequences.

Chapter Twenty-five

Sebastian had wanted to kill John. The only thing stopping him was the ridiculous promise he had made Rawlings. That and the look on Emma’s face when she had dreamed of him and spoken his name. The way it sounded on her lips was his undoing.

If she asked him to sail across the world to prove his love, he would do it without a second thought. So when she asked him to stay, he couldn’t refuse, not if his life depended on it.

Currently he regretted it with his whole being.

Body aching with need, it was sheer torture lying next to her. It didn’t help matters that she fit so perfectly in his arms, as if she was made for him.

Rawlings had done him a favor by informing the innkeeper her brother and cousin had arrived. He had made it possible for him to stay with her without her totally ruining her reputation, not that it was in jeopardy of being pure as snow.

Emma made a whimpering sound. He braced his arms tighter around her and then she turned to face him. Cursing under his breath, he tried to think of ways to keep his body under control before he compromised her.

The face of an angel slept in front of him. For a moment he willed her to open her eyes just so he could gaze into them. Soft reddish brown hair fell around her perfect cheekbones. Reaching out, he caressed her neck then rained kisses down her nose.

His body was tighter than a drum, if the girl decided to move again he would lose all control and truly finish the job John had planned to start, and she didn’t deserve that. As much as his body screamed for it, she didn’t deserve to be mauled the same day she was rescued from someone who had almost raped her.

So immobile he sat, as straight and firm as a statue, lest she touch him and remove all self control he possessed, and even that was hanging on by a fine thread.

And then she squirmed, nearly sending him into a fit of curses, and then repeated it again and again until finally she was awake and tracing his features with her hands.

They smelled like lemons.

Curse lemons and any fruit trying to cause him to sin in the worst of ways.

It would be unforgiveable.

“Sebastian, I need you,” Emma whispered and then he felt her lips brush his.

With the last bit of restraint in his possession, he tenderly returned her kiss, as innocent as he could manage, and then cupped her face. “You’re tired, Emma, go to sleep. You’ve had a long day.”

“No.” Clawing at him, she pulled him closer.

Not good.

“This. You. Right now. I need you, Sebastian.”

And then the minx was kissing him again. In all his years it had been easy to push women away, especially the ones his grandmother had thrown in his direction in hopes he would somehow slip up with his good reputation.

In this moment, as her soft lips pressed innocently against his, he realized he had pushed all those women away so he could pull this one closer.

So he did.

Moaning, he relented, pressing his body firmly against Emma’s softness. It was heaven. He wanted to die.

Though her kiss was innocent, it was perfect. Her lips had a way of burning against his, searing his soul. He took until he couldn’t think straight. And then it occurred to him. He was quite successfully being used.

Yes, he was sure of Emma’s affection, but she wanted him to make her pain go away, to make the past turn into nothing, to make it not matter anymore.

Though she would hate him, and worse of all cry, he needed to stop this madness. To protect Emma from herself. He desperately wanted her to realize that in the morning he married her not because he had to, not because he felt sorry for her or because she gave herself to him, but because he wanted her, and he loved her more than life itself.

“Emma,” he said as he slowly pushed her away. His body cursed his every move. “Emma, no. Not like this.”