The Education of Sebastian & the Education of Caroline (74 page)

“Well, you have to get it under control. Now please, please tell me your assignment to Ryan Grant is temporary.”

He stared at me. “Fuck! I was wondering why they’d seated you next to him. Are you embedded with him? Shit!”

“Exactly my thoughts. He can’t know, or it’ll really screw things up for both of us—well, mainly for me. Sebastian, you’re going to have to act like you did in Geneva, as if you still dislike me—or at the very least, ignore me. Can you do that?”

“Fuck, Caro,” he sighed. “Yes, I can do it. But I’ll hate every fucking minute.”

“At least if we’re in the same Camp, I’ll know what you’re doing and that you’re safe.”

He gave me a small smile.

“Same goes for you. Yeah, there is that. And we might get a chance to hook up?”

I shook my head, even as the image took shape.

“No, too dangerous. You can’t risk it and I
definitely
can’t risk it. Grant isn’t an idiot.”

“No, he seems on the ball.”

“On the plus side, Grant already thinks you dislike me.”

Sebastian frowned. “Because…?”

“Liz: she mentioned that we’d met in Geneva, and at that stage, she still thought you were an ass. Well, that hasn’t changed, but just a different sort of ass now.”

He gave me a crooked smile.

“An ass?”

“Big time.”

He leaned against the door and crossed his arms, his head cocked to one side, a damn sexy smile on his face.

“What happened with your little friend, Natalie?” I said, not prepared to let him off the hook just yet.

His smile vanished. “She’s no fucking friend. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, and then Grant kicked me out because of her.”

“What did he say to you?”

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably.

“Oh, well, never mind—I can guess. She didn’t look pleased either—I think she was planning to have you for dessert. Was it you who told her to cover up?”

“Yeah, not that it made any difference.”

“She must have listened to someone. At least you tried. And you are
very
trying, Chief Hunter. Part of me wants to slap some sense into you…”

“And the other part?” he murmured, wetting his lips with his tongue.

“Well,” I said, running a finger down the red braid that edged his uniform jacket, “I was wondering what we could do for the next…” I checked my wristwatch, “…115 minutes?”

I thought Sebastian would leap on me but he closed his eyes, as if he was in pain.

“What’s the matter, tesoro?”

“I really fucking hate this, Caro. We’re always running in different directions, we’re always running out of time. I just want to wake up with you in my arms every day.”

God, this man was irritating—and wonderful—and he could say the most romantic things at the time when I most needed to hear them.

“I know, Sebastian, and I feel the same. But it won’t be like that forever—we will be together. We just have to be patient.” I stroked his cheek, “And for now, we have 113 minutes left.”

His eyes snapped open.

“Fuck!”

Suddenly we were all fumbling, hurried hands, panting into each other’s mouths, as Sebastian tried to tear off his uniform and undress me at the same time. I was naked and ready long before him, so I lent a helping hand, which didn’t seem to help much.

“Damn it, Caro,” he groaned, as I pressed myself against him, feeling the thick material against my heated skin.

He backed me toward my bed, his erection rigid against my thigh. I fell backward and then burst into laughter.

“What?”

“The whole pants around the ankles thing—it’s not a great look.”

He grinned ruefully as he toed off his shiny shoes.

“Guess I’d better lose the socks, too.”

“Definitely.”

When every item of clothing had been stripped off, he stood next to the bed and gazed down at me. I didn’t feel like laughing now.

“You like what you see, Caro?” he asked, with a low, rough voice.

I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry.

“After tonight, well, we don’t know when … so I want you to remember me like this … when you look at me—see me like this, wanting you.”

And he stroked himself, his eyes half closing as he breathed in deeply.

“And when I look at you, this is what I’ll be thinking about: close your eyes.”

Reluctantly, I let my eyelids flutter down.

The mattress moved beneath me, and I felt Sebastian’s warm hands on my ankles. Slowly, he moved my legs apart, then he kissed his way up to my thigh, and my breath caught in my throat.

He didn’t stop, and I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted him loving me forever.

Sometime later, we lay in each other’s arms, peaceful and blissfully sated.

Suddenly, an enormous explosion erupted outside, rattling the windows of the hotel. Sebastian grabbed me and pulled me onto the floor by the side of the bed, away from the window. He waited for ten seconds, then cautiously got to his feet, standing to one side of the window to peer out.

“Probably a car bomb—about half a mile away.”

I was still shivering on the floor.

“It’s okay, Caro. We’re okay.”

I’m sure we were both thinking the same thing: we were okay, but somewhere out there in the night, people had lost their lives, even now lying on the ground, bleeding into the dust. I wondered if Liz would be off to the site, to report on what had happened. Sometimes it felt important to be on the frontline, telling people back home what was happening in this far away war; but sometimes if felt like we were no better than war pornographers, capturing the misery of other people on film, or in photographs, asking them at their most desperate moment to give us a sound bite to file and send home. Job done.

It was a fine line to tread, and not one we always got right. But I still thought that what we did was ultimately worthwhile—I had to.

I stood up hesitantly, naked and feeling exposed.

Usually when I was on assignment in a dangerous location, I wore clothes day and night. You never knew when you might have to evacuate your hotel room in a hurry, when the time it took to put on pants and a t-shirt was going to be the difference between life and death.

But with Sebastian, I broke all the rules.

“Caro, are you okay, baby?”

“Yes, I suppose so. Just knowing that out there … you’ll be facing that soon.”

He strode over to me.

“Christ, I know that, Caro, and it kills me to know that you’ll be out there, too. Please, baby, please, go home while you still can. I’m fucking begging you, Caro!”

He held me tight against his chest, and I could feel his heart hammering as he buried his head in my hair.

“Please, baby. I need to know you’re safe. If anything happened to you now…”

My arms crept around his neck, and I pulled his face down to kiss him softly.

“I have a job to do, Sebastian, you know that. So do you; and I will worry about you every day. I pray to God that you’ll come home to me. Please, tesoro, promise you’ll look after yourself—no unnecessary risks?”

He sighed. “I promise, Caro.”

“Then come back to bed with me,” I said, tugging his hand.

Time was slipping away too fast.

He lay on his back and I snuggled into his arms, one hand on his waist, and my head resting just above his heart, listening to its firm, even rhythm.

I didn’t want our last night together to be filled with such sadness.

My fingers drifted over his muscular chest, across his ribs and down to his flat stomach. I pushed the sheet down, exposing his hair and the tip of something even more desirable and arousing.

“Sebastian, if that’s what I have to imagine every time you look at me, I’m not going to get any work done.”

He smiled and kissed my hand.

“Let’s go back to Signora Carello’s place for our honeymoon, Caro. We could fuck for days without getting out of bed.”

I could tell that he was trying to lighten the mood, too; I was happy to play along with the fantasy.

“What, you think she could just push food under the door so you can keep your strength up, because I have to say, Sebastian, you were getting a bit out of breath just now. I really thought the US Marines had higher standards of fitness: I might have to write about that in my next article. Of course, the research is incomplete—I’ve only documented one Marine’s fitness levels in detail…”

“And it’s going to stay that way,” he said, firmly.

I laughed. “Feeling threatened? Me alone with all those horny Marines, I’m quoting, of course.”

“Not funny,” he grumbled.

“Okay, I won’t tease you. Yes, we could go back to Signora Carello’s, but there are lots of other places I’d like to see in Italy. Florence, the open air opera in Rome—I’d love to do that. But you know, I really like the idea of taking your old motorcycle and seeing upstate New York. What do
you
want to do?”

“Other than have a lot of sex?”

“My God! That’s exactly the same answer you gave me ten years ago when you were a horny teenager!”

“So? I’m consistent: I thought women liked that in men?”

He had a point.

Lazily, he ran one hand between my breasts, toying with the chain that held my engagement ring.

“You have the most fantastic breasts, Caro. I can’t stand those fake ones, they just feel so…”

He realized what he’d said, or nearly said, and stopped abruptly.

“Hmm, I was thinking, Chief, maybe you should be one of those men who are strong and silent. You know, nice to look at, not so good at the talking.”

He playfully bit my shoulder and twisted around, pushing me into the mattress.

“Is that right?”

“Yes. Hearing you talk about your
conquests
when I’m in a state of post-coital bliss isn’t going to earn you round two.”

“Huh, so I can’t
earn
round two—does that mean I can pay for it instead?”

I slapped his ass, hard. “You couldn’t afford me.”

“You sure about that, baby? What’s your price?”

“What have you got to offer, Sebastian?”

He used his hips to pin me down, his chest hovering over mine. “An orgasm?”

“That’s just quid pro quo.”

“Fuck, I love it when you talk dirty. What about two orgasms?”

“Two? Beginning to sound interesting, but do you think you’re up to the job?”

One thing about Sebastian: he was always up for a challenge. Up and up.

Over an hour later, we were collapsed on the bathroom floor, flushed and breathless.

“I’d forgotten you had a thing for bathrooms,” I gasped.

He kissed the back of my neck. “I like the mirrors.”

“You know, that’s a bit kinky, Sebastian.”

“You think? I’d like to get kinky with you, Caro,” he said, tugging on my earlobe with his teeth and running his fingers over my hipbone.

The thought was intriguing.

“What did you have in mind?”

I felt him shrug. “You could tie me up again: that was hot.”

“Hmm, well, I could talk to one of the MPs at Leatherneck—maybe I’ll see if I can borrow a pair of handcuffs, Sebastian.”

He didn’t answer, so I nudged him in the ribs.

“Yeah, if you like, Caro.”

“If
I
like? What do
you
like?”

He hesitated. “There’s some stuff we could try.”

“Such as?”

There was a soft tap at the door and I heard Liz’s voice.

“Oh, hell. You’d better get dressed, Sebastian, unless a three-way with Liz was one of your fantasies?”

He shuddered. “Fuck, Caro! I’m going to have that image in my head now.”

I grinned at him. “Better get your pants on then, Chief.”

I pulled on a baggy t-shirt and some pajama bottoms, checked Sebastian was halfway decent, and opened the door.

“Lee, I … oh, is he still here?”

“He’s just leaving, Liz.”

Sebastian was sitting on my bed, tying his shoelaces when Liz marched into the room.

“There’s a curfew on, Hunter,” she said, crossing her arms across her substantial chest.

“Thanks,” he said, shortly.

“You must have heard the car bomb: three dead, multiple injured. Bastards packed the bomb with nails.”

“So evil,” I murmured.

Liz nodded silently, and Sebastian pressed his lips together without speaking.

He stood up, pulled on his jacket and fastened the buckle on his white web belt.

He ignored Liz’s chilly gaze and pulled me into a tight hug, leaning his forehead against mine.