Catherine O'Connor - On Equal Terms

‘Do you want a drink?’ Sebastian’s voice was soft, gentler than she remembered it, but the strength of his hands as they wrapped around her shoulders, raising her from the soft pillow, were the same. Strong, hard and muscular, lifting her with an ease that told her of his strength. The cold rim of a glass touched her dry lips and she drank thirstily of the water that was offered to her. She rested back on the pillow, forcing her lids open. The cold grey light of early morning filtered through the huge windows and Kate knew she was back, back in the house she had once called home. Sebastian was sitting on the bed. He looked tired. His eyes were red-rimmed through lack of sleep: the long drive had obviously taken its toll. His tobacco-coloured hair fell in disarray across his finely chiselled features. Kate felt a frisson race through her body, but she refused to let him see the effect he was having on her. He was still as handsome as ever, she thought bitterly, not liking the way she still responded to him.

‘Welcome home,’ he said, a ready smile forming on his sensuous mouth, as if he was unaware of the irony of his words. Kate nodded slowly, but did not return his smile.

Even Sebastian wouldn’t ask that much, she thought wryly as she continued to study him. He hadn’t really changed: there was only a touch of grey in his hair and there were no tell-tale signs of ageing around his clear blue eyes—and yet there was something. Kate felt it; that hidden thread that had always drawn them together alerted her to the fact that something about him had changed. But she was too tired to think about it now. Besides, it didn’t concern her, not now. It was all in the past and best forgotten. She would have to leave here as soon as she had the chance; she would go back to her new life. However, already doubts had begun to surface at the back of her mind and she knew that it would be difficult, that Sebastian would be keeping a close eye on her, watching her every move.

‘How are you?’ he asked. ‘The journey was too much and you passed out yesterday. That’s why you’ve slept so long,’ he continued, ignoring the fact that Kate had closed her eyes again. ‘Are you still feeling drowsy?’ he probed, his voice searing through her brain as she tried to shut him out. She hadn’t been prepared for the impact that his return into her life would make, and she knew she had to keep him out of it in order to remain immune to him.

‘Perhaps you’d like something to eat?’ he offered. Kate’s eyes flickered open; his voice seemed strangely formal and distant, but she didn’t care. She closed her eyes again, determined to keep her fragile barriers firmly intact. She had to shut out his image, to secure her mind and heart against him. The reality that she was back with him was almost unbearable and every second in his presence would weaken her defences against him.

‘I’d like a bath,’ she managed; her speech sounded slurred. Kate knew a bath was her only chance of privacy and she wanted to be alone. She needed time alone, time to think, to rationalise her feelings, which swayed dramatically between hate and love for this man.

‘A bath—yes, of course.’ His tone was distinctly polite and Kate’s eyes flickered open, searching the dark depths of his for a glimmer of tenderness, but there was none.

‘It will probably bring you round a bit,’ he informed her, patting her arm and sending an unexpected ripple of electric awareness through her body. He rose from the bed. Kate watched him cross the room. He moved with the same arrogant stride, liquid movements that belied his determination. She closed her eyes again, shutting out his image, but it was too late—already her mind had begun to drift back to their first meeting…

‘GOOD morning.’

Kate gave a nervous start at the softly vibrant voice that cut through the early morning stillness. She spun round, fixing her eyes on the tall, broad-shouldered and immensely powerful-looking figure walking slowly towards her. A frisson of alarm ran through her body as her mind registered the sheer power of the man. He towered over her own petite stature and looked down at her. His eyes were dark blue, with thick, curly lashes, and his hair was a mixture of browns, sort of tobacco-coloured.

‘My name’s Sebastian,’ he said, his voice deep and clear, as he extended his hand in a formal greeting. Kate gazed up at him, her eyelids blinking anxiously as she noted the teasing lilt in his tone.

‘Hello, Sebastian,’ she managed, at the man who was now her stepbrother and her senior by twelve years.

‘I’d thought I’d take Dylan out,’ Sebastian said smoothly, releasing her hand and moving into the stalls. Kate nearly sagged with relief at his words.

‘He’s all ready, Mr…’ she began, but Sebastian swung round, his blue eyes dark.

‘Sebastian—please. My name is Sebastian.’

‘Sebastian,’ agreed Kate, with a nod. It seemed odd to her that he should want to be called by his first name. The timbre in his voice held the unmistakable tone of authority and Kate knew he expected to be obeyed. ‘Dylan is ready and eager to be out,’ Kate said, instinct warning her that Sebastian was not as malleable as her father. He was wearing riding boots but the rest of his clothes were far from formal. He wore a pair of faded denim jeans that hugged his muscular thighs and a checked shirt peeked out around the crew neck of a thick navy sweater. He could have passed for an Englishman. But Kate had eavesdropped on many adult conversations, so knew his heritage, even if his mother was at pains to forget all about her disastrous first marriage. She had been married to a much older man, a fiery Italian who believed a woman’s place was in the home. Sebastian had inherited his father’s dark looks, his fiery disposition, but his ideas on women were far removed from his father’s. Still, Kate would have known immediately that he wasn’t English. There was something wild about him—untamed and free—unlike the wealthy English gentlemen that she was familiar with. His hair was streaked with flecks of shimmering gold and it was swept back off his face like a sleek lion’s mane, drawing attention to his autocratic features. His eyes were blue, yet they were dark with a piercing quality, like an icy shaft of light Kate sensed even then that she would always love him, that somehow they were kindred souls who had been drawn together by circumstances beyond their control. She stared up at him, her pale grey eyes almost hidden beneath her long, straight fringe of ash-blonde hair.

‘Dylan is a fine horse, such a beautiful grey stallion,’ she breathed, following Sebastian into the stalls, wanting to be close to him.

‘He needs far too much exercise,’ Sebastian commented as he began to lead the horse out.

Kate was still following, like a young puppy eager to please its new master.

‘Do you ride?’ Sebastian asked, suddenly turning his attention to Kate, and he managed to control the smile of amusement that tugged at his lips when she coloured again instantly. Kate nodded silently in childish awe of the man. ‘Then saddle up; we can both go for a ride.’

‘Your bath is ready.’

The sound of Sebastian’s voice shattered her dream and Kate opened her eyes and nodded.

‘Thanks,’ she said, quickly lowering her long lashes over her eyes before he had time to read the depths of emotion in them.

‘Let me help you,’ Sebastian offered, moving towards the bed; but he stopped instantly as he saw Kate stiffen.

‘I’m quite capable of finding my own way to the bathroom.’

‘I’m sure you are.’ His mouth tightened. As he’d spoken a flame of anger had briefly flared in the normally ice-cool depths of his eyes. Kate glared back at him. It was always the same between them—a constant round of battles, and she was growing weary of them.