Authors: Jane O'Reilly
Stop. ‘Why isn’t this easy?’
Sebastian shrugged. ‘Easy is dull.’
Ella and Adam came back to the table. They were holding hands, fingers twined together. Nic looked at the two of them, both pale haired and tanned and beautiful. Her stepsister did look different, and she suddenly realised why.
Ella was happy.
Which meant that what Nic had always thought was happiness before had in fact been well concealed misery. ‘I’m happy for you, Ella,’ she said, and it was true. ‘I really am. You were right to sell your half of the garage. I just…I just wish you’d told me how miserable you were.’
‘To be honest, I don’t think I knew. Anyway, that’s enough emotional baggage dumping for one day. You, madam, need a makeover, which means we need to shop. Then you need to be lotioned and potioned.’
Nic glanced up at Sebastian, who quirked up one dark brow. ‘Do I get to watch?’ he said.
Ella laughed. ‘You get to pay.’
By the time they got to lunch, Nic was fast running out of patience. She’d been pulled in and out of at least a dozen outfits, all of which had been dismissed as unsuitable, and she could
see that even Ella, queen of the shoppers, was starting to flag. There simply wasn’t much choice in the local area, unless she wanted to go in a wetsuit or a bikini. Why had she left it so damn late?
Because you wanted an excuse
whispered a little voice inside her head.
Then you wouldn’t be able to enter, because you’d have nothing to wear. It wouldn’t be your fault.
But as she stood and looked at herself in the mirror, Nic found that she wasn’t afraid of that any more. Now that she’d grown used to her darker hair, she liked it. It didn’t look in the slightest bit natural, so she didn’t feel fake. She peeled off the rest of her clothes, dropped them on to the chair in the corner of the changing room, and looked at her naked self.
She pressed a hand to her hip, covering the rough patch of skin lined with so many ridges of scar tissue. She wasn’t curvaceous, but her athletic figure had its plus points. Her breasts were small, but they were firm and round. It wasn’t a body to hide, or a body to be anxious about. It was a healthy, normal body, the body of a woman who had every right to want a man to touch her.
Nic put her hands on her breasts, on her belly, between her legs, wondering what it would feel like when Sebastian finally touched her. She felt the desperation, and she enjoyed it. She felt the nerves, and for the first time in her life, enjoyed those too.
Then she picked up her clothes and got dressed, leaving the assorted outfits that she’d tried on hung up for the assistant to deal with. The curtain rings squealed as she yanked the curtain back. She found Ella sitting on a chair in the sports section, staring at the wetsuits.
‘I’ve applied for a place to study marine biology at UCLA,’ Ella said. ‘If I get accepted, I won’t be coming back, Nic. Well, I’ll be coming back for visits and stuff. But I won’t be coming back to live here. I…I wanted to make sure you were okay with it. That’s why we flew over.’
‘Oh,’ Nic said, her head reeling as she tried to digest this new information. She thought back to all the summers Ella had spent skipping out of the garage to hang out at the beach. At the time, Nic had assumed it was so she could flirt with the surfers. Now she wasn’t so sure. ‘What does Adam think?’
‘It was his idea,’ Ella confessed.
‘Adam thought of it? But you hardly know him!’
‘Yes, I do,’ Ella said.
‘How can you possibly know him?’ Nic asked, utterly confused. ‘You’ve only just met him!’
Ella looked over at her, blue eyes warm. ‘Because I looked at him and I just did, and it was the same for Adam. Don’t ask me to explain it.’
‘No,’ Nic said slowly. ‘I won’t.’ She felt terribly strange, overwhelmed, as if left had suddenly become right and she was trying to function in a world that made no sense. ‘I think I’m done here, if you are.’
‘But you haven’t got anything!’ Ella exclaimed, her eyes wide.
‘Let’s be honest,’ Nic said, glancing around her at all the swimsuits and flippers and surf tees, ‘my chances of finding anything here are practically nil, and I haven’t got time to look any further afield. I’ll just go with what I’ve got.’
‘Which is what, exactly?’ Ella challenged. ‘Scruffy cut-offs? Greasy overalls? Misses and Motors is a beauty contest, Nic. The clothes, the shoes, the make-up — it all matters.’
Nic bit her lip. ‘I know it does. But I’m not sure it matters to me.’
She winced as Ella jabbed her sharply in the arm. ‘I thought we’d agreed we were going to be honest with each other from now on. Do you think I didn’t notice the look on your face the last time I won? I’m not the sharpest tool in the box, Nic, but give me some credit. I’m not a complete idiot either.’
No, that’s me, Nic thought sadly. Because I should have realised what was going on a long time ago. I should have realised a lot of things. But she didn’t voice that out loud. Instead, she fixed on the best smile she could. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘You’re the expert here. Fix me up.’
‘On one condition,’ Ella said, taking her hand and leading her back towards ladies wear. ‘I want to know what is going on with you and Sebastian.’
‘I…I don’t know,’ Nic told her. ‘We’re…I don’t know.’
‘But you like him, right?’
More than she should. ‘He’s alright, I suppose.’
Ella rolled her eyes, then turned to flick through a rail of satin cocktail dresses. ‘He’s a bit more than that, Nic. Be serious. The man is sex on a stick. A gear stick, in your case.’
‘Okay. He’s a bit more than alright. But there’s nothing going on.’
‘Didn’t look like that when I walked in the other night.’
Nic broke out in a full body blush, and snatched a dress from the rail. ‘This one looks okay.’
‘Sex games in the garage,’ Ella grinned. ‘My tomboy stepsister has a kinky streak.’
Nic pulled a face, then turned on her heel and headed for the counter. She had never talked with Ella like this before, never giggled over men and sex, or shopped til they dropped. It shocked her to realise that she was enjoying it. Yes, Sebastian and Ella had had a thing. But it was quite clear that it was ancient history. When Ella wasn’t talking about Adam, she was staring into space with a dreamy look in her eye, or fingering the little silver heart that hung on a chain around her neck.
Nic winced at the price but stuck her card in the slot and punched in her pin. She took the bag as Ella slid in alongside her. ‘Sebastian likes you, you know,’ Ella said, setting one hand on her arm. Nic blinked fast. ‘He doesn’t play sex games with just anyone.’
‘I think that’s what’s called TMI.’
Ella stared at her intently, then dropped her hand. ‘FYI,’ she said, ‘he never played them with me.’
Seeing Ella again was weird. For the past few weeks, she’d been a shadow in the corner of their lives, almost not real. But now that she was back, Sebastian had been forced to confront some uncomfortable truths. He’d dated her because she’d been convenient and low maintenance and because she’d looked the part. He’d never been pushed out of his comfort zone with Ella, never really had to work for her affection. And when it had ended, neither of them had been that bothered.
Nic wasn’t convenient or low maintenance and definitely didn’t fit the mould. She made him constantly uncomfortable, and damn, she was hard work. But he liked being around her. She was smart and snappy and straightforward. She didn’t pretend to be interested in cars just so that she could get in his pants or his wallet. It occurred to Sebastian then that when he did have sex with Nic, it wouldn’t be casual. They’d gone way past that point. So what would it be? At some point in the near future he would be recalled to the team, and when that call came in he’d be out of Lostwithiel like a shot.
So where did that leave them? What did Nic want, really? What did she need?
He’d swum lengths of the pool and devoured an entire bag of jelly babies before he worked it out, and the answer, when it came to him, was simple, because he understood it completely.
Nic needed to win.
He would do whatever it took to make it happen, and then he’d screw her senseless. It was a win-win situation.
The heavy knock on the door was as unexpected as it was inconvenient and Nic was in two minds whether to ignore it or not. Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped herself up in a towel and wiped the water from her face as whoever it was hammered some more. She’d spent the previous evening in the pub with Ella and Adam, wondering where Sebastian was, and if he was going to show up.
He hadn’t. Confused, frustrated and not as relieved as she should have been, she hadn’t been able to sleep. Staying up until three polishing the Ferrari had seemed like a good idea. Now all the coffee in the world wasn’t helping.
Another knock battered the door. Clearly whoever was out there didn’t count patience as one of their virtues, she thought crossly, before it occurred to her that it might be Ella and she sprinted to the door.
But it wasn’t Ella. It was Sebastian, and he wasn’t alone. ‘Morning,’ he said, handing her a large white box before moving past her into the flat. Nic skittered hastily out of the way as two complete strangers followed him in, laden down with stainless steel cases and general junk. ‘What is this?’ She clutched her towel more tightly.
‘Jeanie is a hair stylist, and Sam does everything else.’
Nic didn’t dare ask what he meant by
everything else.
‘Why are they here?’
Sebastian settled himself down on her sofa and picked up a magazine from the pile. ‘They’re here for you.’
Nic stared in bewildered astonishment as the two women introduced themselves and started to unpack what resembled torture equipment. ‘But…but…’ She glanced down at the box in her arms, as if she’d only just realised it was there. ‘What’s this?’
‘Your outfit.’
‘I have an outfit.’
‘No you don’t. I spoke to Ella last night.’
He seemed in no mood to explain himself or any of this, simply sat there on her sofa looking long and lean and strong and gorgeous in battered jeans and a screaming red t-shirt with a prancing horse on the front. He leaned forward, tossing the magazine down and picking up another one, and it was then she saw the lettering on the back. And she couldn’t suppress a smile. ‘Team Nic, huh?’
‘I’ve got ‘mechanics do it with lube’ if you’d prefer.’
A blush hit her cheeks, and the box nearly hit the floor. She’d have made a smart remark if she’d been able to think of one and if there hadn’t been two complete strangers in the room, both of whom were doing a very bad job of not laughing. As it was, an indignant ‘we do not!’ was the best she could manage.
‘No?’ Sebastian turned to look at her. ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’ Those green eyes were so full of mischief and fire. Someone was very, very pleased with himself. A faint sense of unease coated her insides, but in the end she surrendered to the inevitable and laughed. The tension in the room rushed away.
‘Open the box,’ he said softly. ‘Go on.’
All three pairs of eyes fixed on Nic as she wrestled with the lid and tried not to lose her towel in the process. Her mind went crazy, imagining what might be inside. It could be anything from kinky underwear to an inflatable crocodile. All she knew was that opening it with an audience was a bad idea.
Especially given the smug look plastered all over Sebastian’s face.
Holding the box tightly, Nic slipped into the bathroom and locked the door. She sat down on the closed lid of the toilet and finally let herself open the box, stomach churning with a mixture of excitement and fear.
‘Oh. My. God.’
It was perfect. Far more perfect than the outfit she’d picked out with Ella the day before. This was unpredictable, bright, sexy. Her normal uniform, yet not, because her usual clothes didn’t sparkle like this. Her finger tips brushed over sequins, bumped over diamantes, slid over silk as she lifted out the gold shirt and matching hotpants which were nestled in between soft, red leather boots.
Her throat felt tight, and she blinked hard and fast. It didn’t help. A single tear rushed down her cheek, lingering for a moment on the edge of her jaw before falling into her lap. It was all too much, too overwhelming, too right, and at the very heart of it was Sebastian Prince.
Something inside her broke. She felt it snap, almost like a physical pain. Setting the box carefully down on the floor, Nic ran the cold tap and splashed water on her face. Then she opened the bathroom door.
Her living room resembled a beauty salon. A chair had appeared from nowhere, plastic covered the floor, and a large mirror perched on a stand in front of her tiny TV. The silver cases had been opened, revealing enough make-up for an entire series of
America’s Next Top Model
.
It was all so surreal. And in the middle of it all, reading an old copy of
Autosport
, was Sebastian. He glanced up at her. ‘Well?’
‘It’s…’ Nic felt the tears threaten again, and stopped. She couldn’t put it into words. Fortunately, Jeanie chose that moment to step forwards and start examining her hair. ‘Sebastian tells me you’re desperate to be blonde,’ she said, her brow furrowed. ‘It’s definitely possible, but it won’t be easy. Or quick. What time did you say this thing starts?’
‘Two,’ Sebastian informed her. ‘But we need time to get across there.’
‘Right.’ Jeanie said decisively. ‘We’d better get started.’
‘Actually,’ Nic said, ‘I don’t think I want to be blonde.’ She touched a hand to her hair. ‘I don’t think it’s me.’
‘I can still improve what you’ve got,’ said Jeanie. ‘How’d you feel about a few red streaks?’
‘I have no idea,’ Nic replied. ‘Why don’t you give him,’ she gestured to Sebastian, ‘a haircut while I think about it?’
‘Red streaks sound good,’ Sebastian said from his position on the sofa. ‘And I do not need a haircut.’
‘Team Nic, remember?’ Nic picked her way through the boxes of styling products and hairdryers and combs until she was close enough to touch him, if not brave enough. ‘I need you to look the part.’
One large hand shot out and grabbed the edge of her towel. His gaze fell to her mouth for the briefest of moments before those bright green eyes locked on to hers. ‘Be careful,’ he said. ‘Or I’ll send you into that bedroom and this time there won’t be any interruptions.’