A/N: Since there seems to be quite a few who are faithfully following this story, here's another chapter! Tell me what you think. Please vote and comment. :)

***

“I think I can wash myself just fine,” I said patiently as Sebastian carried me to the bathroom the two days later. My fever had broken the night before and I had complained of feeling uncomfortable and sticky with sweat. “A quick shower will do—”

“Don’t be silly,” he interjected, swinging me over to the corner where the large, jetted tub was, gurgling with fresh, hot water and some light soap bubbles. “I’ve got a bath ready for you. You’ll feel better afterwards, I promise.”

I sighed as he set me down on a cushioned stool before reaching into the tub and testing the water temperature. 

“I’m feeling a bit better but I still don’t have the energy to do much so I really can’t—”

“I’ll bathe you.”

I stopped and looked up to stare at him.

His expression was open and honest although I didn’t miss the fire that flickered in his eyes the moment we understood exactly what he meant.

“Don’t be absurd. You can’t bathe me.”

He crouched down in front of me to slip off the socks he insisted I wear because I was chilled earlier. “Why not? I’ve seen most of you, Cassandra. I can’t say I won’t react but I’ll behave like a perfect gentleman.”

I raised a brow. “Gentlemen don’t go around bathing young women.”

He grinned. “No, they do not, unfortunate bastards.”

I let out another long, exhausted sigh and glanced at the tub, tempted by the steam and the whiff of chamomile and honeysuckle in the air. “Okay. But no tricks. I mean, there’s a better time and place for that. Not like this. Not when I look this horr—”

“You’re beautiful to me, no matter what.” He peered at my face as he reached up to undo the messy braid I usually wore to bed. “Your hair is like my favorite brandy spilling down on your back—a deep, rich, sensual color, promising a decadent, heady flavor.”

I shivered as he ran his fingers through the soft, thick waves, catching a small handful of the ends which he brushed against his lips.

“Your skin is smooth and lightly kissed by sun,” he continued, reaching up to slowly part the collar of my robe, exposing my shoulders that the spaghetti straps of my cotton nightgown didn’t conceal. “And a sprinkle of freckles tell me just where the sun had kissed you, inviting me to follow the trail.”

I let the robe slip off of me and sucked in a steadying breath as his hands glided up my arms and along my neck to settle on each side of my face.

“Your eyes are large and a melting chocolate brown—expressive and kind,” he said as he gently traced his thumbs over my eyelids after they fluttered close. I opened them and stared at him and his entranced expression. “They’re eyes that pull you in, shatter your will and render you completely helpless.”

I smiled. “You must be immune if you still keep bossing me around.”

He grinned and moved his thumbs to fill the deep indentation on each of my cheeks. “Trust me, it’s a hard struggle. Especially when you smile at me and flash me these dimples. They make you seem sweeter and more playful than you already are. My breath clogs in my chest every time I see you smile. It’s not very good for me.”

“No, it is not,” I laughed although my cheeks warmed.

“Ah, when you blush,” he exclaimed, spreading his fingers over the curves of my cheeks. “It makes me think of a dewy rose—innocent and delicate.”

I couldn’t help but snort which really just contradicted those last two adjectives. 

I giggled but I quickly caught my lower lip to stop myself from bursting out laughing.

“And these lips,” he said huskily, his eyes glimmering with heat as he stared at my mouth. “They’re so full and juicy like ripe raspberries I want to bite and suck on them. Thrown in with your fresh, innocent beauty, they turn you into a temptress—a fallen angel bent on the seduction of a defenseless man like me. I don’t stand a chance, Cassandra.”

Despite my weakened state, I recognized the heat that pooled in my belly as lust. His searing glances and lazy touch answered for that but the fluttering of my heart was caused by something entirely different.

“You really think me beautiful?” I whispered in a slightly awed voice, watching his face, relishing the sincere surprise in his eyes at my statement as if he didn’t actually believe I thought otherwise.

“I know you’re beautiful,” he replied with a crooked smile, touching my chin before dropping his hands down to my waist. “When I first saw you sitting by the front room waiting for me in that yellow dress, staring at me as if you wanted to strip me down and have your way with me, I felt the kick right in my gut.”

“I did not stare at you that way!” I protested, slapping his shoulder lightly. “I thought you were the most seductive man I’ve ever seen but my thoughts weren’t carnal!”

He chuckled. “Well, that’s what you made me think anyway. Your hair was sitting on your shoulders, your brown eyes looking large and a little bit lost at first before they started flashing with fire after I provoked you. That startled me—you looked like a fresh, summer bloom but you weren’t afraid to show your thorns when you had to fight back.”

I smiled. “Tell me something. I want to hear the truth.”

“Yes?”

I reached up and lightly ran my fingers along the side of his face. “When you read Timothy’s note and you saw me, did you want to do it? Did you want to accept what he offered?”

Sebastian hesitated for a bit before he sighed and turned his face slightly to kiss my hand. “Yes. Images of you naked and writhing in my bed in various, creative positions flashed through my head like a slide show before I could do anything about it. There was something very sensual in your dark eyes when you gazed at me with such unguarded emotions. I instantly wondered how they would look dazed in ecstasy, or lazy and slumberous, or crinkling at the corners when you laugh. It was very powerful, that moment of instant attraction I felt for you, that for a second, I forgot the insanity of Timothy’s idea, and felt like snatching you up and throwing you on my bed.”

“A little primitive but I can’t say it’s not typical of you,” I said with a laugh although my cheeks were flaming. “Maybe it was just my virginity that hooked you in.”

He shrugged. “It wouldn’t have mattered to me. I wanted you regardless of that detail but yes, the fact that no one has had you in the way I wanted you made the desire a lot more fierce. When I realized I couldn’t have you without breaking the rules, I made sure to stay out of your way and avoid temptation. Apparently, I’m not very good at it.”

I wrinkled my nose. “You seemed to be doing fairly well in staying away from me. That evening of the fourth of July party, you had your tongue down Aurora’s throat. I saw you in her balcony as I was coming up from the beach.”

He grimaced and shook his head. “I had a raging hard on and fiercest urge to have my way with you when were down the viewpoint earlier that day. I put you in that white dress as some sort of protection but it only undid me. Aurora was there, offering the relief I badly wanted.”

I glared at him. “And of course you took it.”

“Actually, I didn’t,” he said, his expression slightly sheepish. “I tried. But it was your face I saw when I closed my eyes to kiss her. I left her alone then. I couldn’t use her like that.”

“So you went away again to sulk,” I said wryly.

“Something like that. It was either to get away or stay and lose control with you.”

He smiled very much like a young boy confessing mischief that my heart swelled and tightened inside my chest. My hand reached up and slipped through his hair, tugging at the ends gently. 

“August ten.”

He arched his brows in question. “Yeah? What about it?”

I smiled. “It’s my birthday. I will be eighteen.”

I waited and watched Sebastian’s face—the flicker of surprise, the twitch of his brows in deep thought and the glint in his bright green eyes—all told me that my news was a double-edged sword.

“I wanted to tell you before I got sick that I... I mean, I want to... You can, we can...”

My voice trailed off as my face doubtlessly turned crimson. My eyes dropped to my lap where my hands now fidgeted in embarrassment.

Drat. 

How does one offer one’s virginity up to a man? 

“Cassandra.” His voice was low and thick. 

He swallowed hard. “We don’t have to. You don’t have to.”

“I don’t?” I echoed, staring at him puzzledly. 

Then it was my turn to swallow hard. “So you don’t want me anymore. You don’t—”

“Sex isn’t all I care about,” he snapped irritably. “I’m not doing any of this in order to sleep with you. I’m doing this because you need me and because—”

“For charity. Right,” I spat out bitterly. 

“Will you stop interrupting me?” he barked, furious now.

“You were interrupting me!” I shot back, pulling my robe back up in some lame effort to protect myself. “Forgive me if I had some delusion that you somehow desired me especially after you recited an entire ode about my hair and my face!”

“I do desire you!” he growled, grabbing my wrists to keep them from fidgeting with my robe. “I’ve made that abundantly clear. But this—whatever this is that we have—I’m not doing it so you can repay me with your body. It doesn’t matter if you’re seventeen or thirty. I’m not sitting around and biding my time until you’re legal so I can pounce on you like a rutting animal.”

I paused at my tirade and let his words sink in, his confession catching me off guard.

“So you’re planning on having a chaste relationship with me?” I asked, blinking in confusion.

He groaned and got up on his feet, pacing. “I can hardly call it that after all that we’ve already done. I don’t know. I haven’t really thought this through, which is very new for me. I just thought... I just thought this could be enough. Until the time is right.”

I bit my lip, observing the agitation vibrating through Sebastian. “On August ten, the time will be right.”

His eyes narrowed. “This doesn’t end with my acquisition of your maidenhead.”

I colored. “Only you can say it in such a cold, callous manner.”

He had the grace to wince. “No, dammit. What I’m trying to tell you is... Look, I...”

I watched as he pressed his lips together in annoyance before taking a deep, ragged breath.

He pushed a hand through his hair and turned to face me again, his eyes hidden in the shadows created by the light behind his head. 

“August ten will just be the beginning,” he finally said in a low, quiet tone that sent a shot of electricity down my spine.

“I warned you before, Cassandra,” he continued, his voice breaking slightly. “There will be nothing you won’t give and I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

I had nothing I could say because he was right. I wasn’t ready for that. 

I took a long, deep breath of my own, my eyes closing briefly. “All I know is that I don’t have very much but I have this one gift that solely belongs to me—something that is and has always been mine alone to bestow.”

“There are better men out there,” he said in a voice that was pure acid as if he loathed the fact.

“Of course there are,” I answered with a shrug.

His jaw clenched in anger, his eyes flashing. “Then there you go. Why don’t you start auditioning them until you find your goddamned Mr. Perfect to deflower you—”

“Is the crude language really necessary?” I interrupted with a grimace. “I don’t know why you’re upset. Of course, there are better men out there. More handsome, more wealthy, more decent, more generous, more kind-hearted, more romantic, more caring—”

“Cassandra!”

I stopped at his snarl, blinking and staring up at him as innocently as I could. “Why, do you not agree? There are definitely more men out there more deserving of my maidenhead—your own antiquated term—and who would certainly be less of an ass about it than you.”

A sound that somewhat resembled a growl came from Sebastian’s chest as he glared at me with the ferocity of a wild animal about to tear up its prey.

“If you push me any further,” he hissed, lifting eyes so green and sharp like a rough emerald I felt it slice through my newfound amused confidence in this little game I’d recklessly started. “I will not be responsible for my actions. I will take your bait and devour you.” 

I sat still, wondering if I’d gone too far as I watched him clench and unclench his fists at his sides, his nostrils flaring and his mouth pursing in an effort to keep down what I suspected was another growl.

Sebastian could truly be an animal—there was no doubt about it.

And apparently, that was the only way he saw himself.

All my annoyance and frustration drained out of me. 

With great effort, I pulled myself up on my feet, took two steps to reach him and slowly folded my arms around him, my cheek pressed against his chest.

“There are definitely better men out there,” I murmured against him. “But I don’t want a better man. I want you.”

I felt the tension leave him, his stance softening.

He tentatively put a hand against my back. “Cassandra, darling...”

I looked up to him and saw his green eyes now shimmering with a surge of emotions—this man of an impenetrable mask who showed so much whenever he took it off if only just for a moment.

“It is my gift to offer you but it’s your choice to accept it, Sebastian,” I told him with a small, tremulous smile. “In taking my gift, you will be giving me another—one I will accept from no other man, no matter how much better he is, but you.”

“Sweet hell,” he muttered as he exhaled loudly, looking more tortured than delighted at the prospect of being honored with my virginity that I wondered if such high-value commodity was simply overrated. 

He leaned down and brushed a kiss on the tips of my nose before pressing another squarely against my lips.

“That’s what this is—sweet hell,” he murmured again, a slow smile curving on his mouth.

I smiled back and let him step away so he could push down my robe and let it slip on the tile floor.

“Now, let’s get you in that bath before the water’s gets cold,” he said as he slowly captured the thin straps of my nightgown and pulled it down over my shoulders.

We both sucked in a breath as the nightgown slipped down further. I knew Sebastian was battling with himself to look away but it was a fight he was clearly losing.

I flushed as his heated gaze leisurely grazed every inch of exposed skin, secretly aching for his touch and mourning the fact that he kept his hands stiffly to his sides.

Needing some distraction from his lustful observation, I crossed my arms over my chest and turned sideways slightly to wiggle the gown down to my ankles, revealing pale pink, cotton bikini panties with ladybug prints on them.

I inwardly groaned at the sight of the childish design, certain that this wasn’t going to help Sebastian see past our substantial age gap.

I risked a glance at him and saw the amused sparkle in his eyes as they focused on my underwear.

I sucked in a breath as subtly as I could, hoping it would keep my somewhat flat belly looking a little more toned but as he brushed his fingers across my navel, the breath came loose in my chest, revealing some roundness on my stomach that he smoothed over with his palm.

“Butterscotch cookies,” I muttered miserably.

“Hmm?” He glanced at me, smiling and arching a brow.

I exhaled loudly. “I’m addicted to them. They explain my non-existent washboard abs.”

He laughed, both hands now settling on each side of my waist. “I don’t know why you have such a poor perception of yourself, sweet, but if it gives you peace of mind, let me assure you that I like my women with curves and you’ve got them all in the right places.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, you like your women for sure. Dozens of them, in fact. And you wonder why I have a poor perception of myself.”

I secretly cursed my tongue for rolling off what just sounded like jealous mutterings that grated even my own ears. 

Of course he’s had women. 

He had more than a decade ahead of me in experience.

The man was sin and vice himself and I had no doubt that even the most virtuous of women would have a hard time keeping her legs crossed. The man could probably seduce a chastity belt into unlocking itself.

“I say, you’ve got my complete attention, sweet, which should be reason enough for you to stop criticizing yourself,” he said, brushing his lips against the outer rim of my ear.

I scoffed. “I think I can’t breathe. Your ego just pushed all the air out of the room due to its massive size.”

“Ouch,” he said with a low chuckle, his hands slipping down to trace the curve of my hips.

“You know, I always thought lace and silk were the only way to go in women’s lingerie,” he murmured.

I blushed and turned away from him. “They are usually uncomfortable and high maintenance, not to mention expensive. I like my panties.”

He grinned rakishly. “I like them too. More than I ever thought I would. “

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, stop it.”

“I’m not lying,” he insisted, tugging on the aforementioned undergarments. “They have a playful and artless charm to them. They’re very... endearing.”

“Yes, endearing was exactly what the multi-million-dollar lingerie industry was going for when they shimmied their way into the market,” I said with a groan. 

Chuckling, he pulled me close and trailed a dozen of kisses along my face before stepping back.

My blush grew more heated as I felt his eyesf inspected me from head to toe.

“Sebastian, stop staring,” I pleaded, biting my lip, my arms barely covering my chest. If I let modesty fly completely out of the window, Sebastian would be on hot on his heels to escape from the room.

He looked up at me and smiled. “Why? You’re exquisite.”

I flashed him a pained smile. “Thank you. I’m too weak to argue with you so I’ll believe you for now.”

As if remembering my current state of health, he came to me and scooped me up in arms before carefully lowering me into the water. Once I was immersed under the bath bubbles, I slipped off my panties and draped it on the edge of the tub.

I sighed in bliss as the warm, sudsy water swirled around me and waited patiently as Sebastian tucked a rubber bath pillow under my neck.

“Thank you,” I murmured with eyes closed. “You were right. I do feel much better already.”

I felt him shuffle beside me before I felt his big, strong hands dip into the water to slowly rub and stroke along my shoulders and arms, cleaning and massaging me at the same time.

“I forget how vulnerable you are sometimes,” he said quietly. “Whether you’re smiling or spitting fire at me, all I could think of is how hard you’re hitting me at many different parts.”

I cracked an eye open to glance at him with an amused smile. “Trust you to start spewing out something romantic only to turn it into something brazen.”

He smiled back, his hands reaching under my back to rub gently. “I’m not romantic at all—just candid. When you’re around, my brain usually shuts down, my cock gets so hard it would almost detach itself from my body, my stomach feels like a sledgehammer hit it and somewhere in the vicinity of my chest where emotions, few that I have, might possibly lurk, it feels like it’s being squeezed too tight I might expire if I didn’t do anything about it.”

I now stared at Sebastian in fascination.

Romantic or not, he just described to me exactly what I did to him—and the honesty undid me.

“Well, we’ll certainly have to do something about it,” I said lazily, reaching a wet hand over to him to gently touch his chin. “Can’t have you expiring anytime soon. I... couldn’t stand it.”

My voice trembled at that last, unplanned confession and I quickly drew my hand and turned away.

“Couldn’t stand what?” he asked after a pregnant pause.

Damn you, Sebastian Vice. 

Of course, he’d heard me clearly but the man liked reassurances.

“I couldn’t stand losing you,” I muttered bleakly, my face still turned away from him. 

I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to bear the humiliating silence that passed.

Then slowly, his hand grasped my elbow, gently turning me back to face him. 

He cupped my cheek with one wet hand, tilting my face until we were looking at each other.

His green eyes were dark and serious. 

“Never,” he rasped, his thumb trailing along my cheek. “You’ll never lose me.”

I opened my eyes to ask him just exactly what he meant by that statement but the small, wistful smile on his lips told me this wasn’t easy for him and he didn’t have all the answers I wanted—yet.

We didn’t say anything else after that.

He helped me through the rest of my bath, his hands avoiding all my intimate places, consciously keeping the sexual flares burning low. He stepped away as I finished the rest of it and grabbed a thick, oversized terry-cloth robe which he'd wrapped around me.

He carried me to my bedroom but hesitated at the door.

“Your sheets need to be changed,” was all he said before turning around and heading for the hallway to his bedroom.

“Uh, I doubt that your bed is cleaner than mine,” I said with a dubious arch of my brow. 

“Good thing then that we’re not staying there,” he said with a mysterious smile.

“We can just change the sheets instead of moving from one guest bedroom to another,” I suggested.

“Why not? What’s the use of a vast number of bedrooms if you can’t use them whenever you like?” He winked at me impishly and I snorted.

“You explain that to the maids when they come back from their vacation,” I told him, blushing slightly at the realization that the staff were going to let their imaginations run wild

“Don’t worry, I have something else in mind,” he said as he turned to a smaller hallway and down on a flight of stairs in the opposite direction of his bedroom.

I had never really been down this part of the house. For one, this was near Sebastian’s bedroom which I’d initially avoided like the plague as per his orders, and also because there was never a need for me to head out this way. I barely took liberties in wandering where I wasn’t needed in consideration of the fact that I was an unwanted guest—at first.

I smirked at the thought.

Of course now, I was very much wanted.

“Where are you going?” I asked curiously, noticing that there weren’t any rooms at all along this hallway. “Don’t tell me this leads to the basement where you bury all of your dead girlfriends.”

He gave me a sardonic look. “And, pray tell, what  makes you think my girlfriends are dead?”

I flashed him an innocent smile. “Well, from extreme sexual gratification, of course.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “My little minx, for that, I’m almost tempted to test your theory of death from sexual gratification. But no, I hate to disappoint but I don’t have a basement full of dead ex-girlfriends. I’ve never had any.”

“Any what?” I prodded, confused by his meaning. “I was just joking about them being dead.”

He raised a brow at me in amusement. “As if you don’t half wish they were if I had any to begin with.”

I blinked. “You mean you don’t have any girlfriends? I don’t mean now, I mean you’ve had them before. Of course. Right?”

When he just continued to smile, I slapped his shoulder in irritation. “What? Why are you being intentionally confusing?”

“I wasn’t,” he said with a small sigh. “I told you already, I’ve never had any—girlfriends.”

“B-but... What do you mean?” I scrunched up my nose. “You’re gay? You’ve only had boyfriends?”

He laughed. “God, no. I’m practically keeling over all the time trying not to have sex with you when I really want to and you think I’m gay?”

I glared at him. “Sebastian Vice, stop running around in circles. I’m quite cranky from being sick so I suggest you get to the point if you don’t want your ear torn off your head.”

“Ah, so bloodthirsty,” he teased before dropping a kiss on my forehead. “I meant that I’ve never had a girlfriend. I’ve dated women left and right, took and gave what we wanted from each other physically but I’ve never had an official girlfriend. I’m not into that kind of thing.”

I frowned. “So you just had fuck buddies.”

He winced at the term and returned my glare. “Call it whatever you like but it was all a straightforward arrangement. We were all adults who knew what we wanted.”

“Well, we all know what you want but I’m sure some of the women you were with wanted more than just sex but of course to get to you, that’s the only way to go, isn’t it?” I said bitingly, angry all of a sudden—both at the women and Sebastian—and then suddenly at myself for realizing that I was in the same exact dilemma.

His green eyes burned into me as he stopped walking. “All this time and that’s still what you think of me?”

I held his gaze as long as I could before lowering my eyes in defeat. I ran a hand lightly across his chest. “I don’t really know what to think.”

He sighed. “You may be right. Sex was the only thing they offered that I was willing to take. But I can see the gears in your mind turning as you asked yourself the same thing. I hate it that you still don’t see the fact that you’re different.”

“How can one really be different, Sebastian?” I asked softly, leaning my cheek against him. “How can a flower stand in a field with many others who are more beautiful and graceful than she and know that she is the one you want?”

“Maybe if the flower stops looking at herself in comparison to others and notice the fact that I’ve walked past all the other flowers and stopped in front of her, getting my hands and knees dirty, laboring under the heat of the sun and the whip of the wind, so I could carefully dig her up and carry her home with me.”

My breath lodged somewhere in my throat as I stared into the emerald pools of Sebastian’s eyes. The poetic analogy was clear but his gaze further pleaded with a look that said, My actions should tell you what you still fail to see. 

In the past few weeks, this man, self-assured and magnificent, had beaten down some of his demons, touched me with both passionate ferocity and heartbreaking tenderness, fed me, washed me, clothed me, comforted me in my illness and opened a little bit of his soul for me.

He wasn’t a man given to his emotions—even apologies and gruff thank yous were hard to wring out—but what he didn’t say, he often showed, flawed in their execution they may be at times, but an earnest effort nonetheless.

“Oh, Sebastian,” I softly whispered, lifting my head to kiss his chin. “I’m sorry.” 

“Darling,” he whispered back in a tight voice before continuing down the hallway.

We reached large French doors which Sebastian opened with a key from a set in his pockets. I didn’t think any of the rooms in the house were locked but I said nothing as he pushed one door open. 

It was a room similar in size to the theater, sunken a few steps, a full wall of glass across from where we stood. There was a massive four-poster bed in the middle flanked by large nightstands on each side. Flushed against the foot of the bed was a cushioned bench and across from it was a small eating table for two. Beyond it was the glass wall with a steel-framed glass door that opened to a small concrete balcony that perched past what I was certain was the edge of the cliff. Judging by the angle of ocean we were facing and the dimensions of the room, I placed it to be on the other side of the theater, on the lowest portion of the dip where the foundation of the house was exposed. Above us was a concrete pad that ran along this corner of the house that was perched at the edge of the cliff. It resembled a ship’s viewing deck almost, safeguarding frolickers with metal railings. From either above or the theater, you couldn't quite see this room. It was almost like a secret room except that it was fully exposed to the ocean in this hidden part of the cove.

I blinked a few times, mesmerized by the sight, before glancing around and noticing what hung on the walls on each side of us.

Canvases of all sizes hung close to each other, some painted with natural scenes, some with abstract designs. The colors were vibrant and rich, the moods vivid and entrancing even though the strokes were a bit uneven—almost playful.

“Sebastian,” I breathed, my fingers gripping his shirt. “What... Who...”

He smiled and carried me over to the bed, settling me down on the crisp new sheets.

“This is a... studio, of some sort,” he started, glancing at the paintings around us with a bashful expression. “It was built into the house because my mother loved to paint. She would disappear in here for days and that’s why it’s fully furnished.”

“Are these your mother’s works?” 

He shook his head. “No. Her paintings have been... stored somewhere else. Other than the paintings kept here, this room had been empty for many years—until this week.”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What do you mean? Did you set this all up? How did—”

“I cleaned up while you were napping during the day. There are some helpful tutorials on line on how to change sheets properly—an absolute lifesaver,” he answered with a boyish grin. “And since I don’t sleep much, I worked on it in the evening too. Gave me something to do other than debate with myself as to why we’re not in bed together.”

I blushed and he ran the back of one hand along my cheek. 

“I don’t really know why I put this room together again,” he said softly. “I thought I wanted to show you...”

His voice trailed off and he slowly turned to walk to the glass wall and faced the ocean as if to turn away would stem the flow of what he clearly didn’t want spilling out.

I slipped down to my feet to follow him at first but a small painting of a dark pink daisy caught my eye. I walked towards it and studied the canvas. I was no art connoisseur but this looked fresh. It stood as if swaying with the wind. At the bottom right of the canvas was a rough stroke of letters that looked like S.V.

I sucked in a breath and lifted my eyes to the other paintings.

They all bore the same initials.

I felt my stomach flutter.

All these beautiful creations were by the hands of this man standing alone at what really looked like the edge of the earth—a man whose armor wore heavy on his shoulders, a man with the heart of a poet and the eyes and hands of an artist who, for some reason or another, had kept that very human part of him locked away for years—until this week.

Trembling inside, I slowly made my way to him until I was standing behind him. I slowly slipped my arms around his waist, burying my face against the warmth of his hard, solid back.

“As I carried home the flower, I carried you into the very core of my soul,” he said softly, his hands resting over my clasped ones. 

I love you  was at the tip of my tongue but I held it back, knowing that nothing I said now was ever going to fully describe the surge of emotions that filled my heart.

It was terrifying—to a love a man as beautiful and broken as Sebastian Vice—but at that moment, I knew, whether I was prepared for it or not, I was already falling headfirst into the deep unknown.

***

“Tell me why you don’t like using Cassandra.”

I looked up from the book I was reading and found Sebastian sitting parallel with me except that he was leaning back against the back rest at the foot of the four-poster bed in the studio.

It was late morning the next day and we had just finished eating the breakfast Sebastian brought to bed—the same bed we shared the night before.

No, not what you’re thinking.

Last night, he brought us dinner into the studio and we ate it at the table while watching the long, gradual sunset by the horizon.

Later, we stepped out to the balcony where he held me in his arms to guard me from the cool evening breeze and when we came back in, he kissed me on the forehead and bid me goodnight.

“Stay, Sebastian,” I said before I could even think about it. But once the words had been said, I steeled in my resolve. “I want to sleep in your arms.”

I knew I was asking a lot—the man held by a thread in his self-control—but I couldn’t help myself.

I expected a long, drawn out debate to ensue first so I was stunned when he nodded.

Minutes later, after we’d washed up and brushed our teeth like an old married couple in the en suite bathroom where we’d transferred some of our toiletries in, he carried me to bed and pulled me into his arms.

I fell asleep almost instantly.

Waking up this morning was bittersweet.

I saw him watching me the moment I opened my eyes, his head resting on a hand he’d propped up on his elbow. The sun was already bright and warm outside despite the built-in blinds we’d drawn in the night before and the golden morning light that washed over Sebastian’s tousled hair and chiseled face made him look like a god—a god in my bed.

He leaned over and kissed me good morning, pulling me into his arms and asking me how I was feeling that morning.

My fever was long gone and I was just mostly tired, a sniffle here or there left.

We snuggled and talked for almost an hour before the embarrassing rumble of my stomach made him laugh and prompted him to make breakfast.

I showered while he was off to the kitchen and dressed in dark blue cotton shorts and a white tank top. We didn’t really plan on bringing clothes to the studio but I had managed to snatch a few things from my room last night when we went to get some toiletries.

If I was going to set Sebastian’s seduction in motion, I had to look a little bit better than I had been in the past few days.

He never did give me an answer that day he gave me a bath but I wasn’t going to leave it to chance.

When he came back from putting away the breakfast dishes, he himself was freshly showered, his thick hair still damp and slick. He had shaved and put on a casual pair of jeans and a plain white shirt.

He came toting a thick, heavy hard-bound volume—Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace and he told me that it was an epic tale of the aristocracy, love, war and family and that I might like it.

He started reading it to me but got ringed by work which he dealt with in his study. 

I kept on reading on my own until he rejoined me in bed an hour later.

“What?” I asked, eyeing the DIY-ed felt and cardboard bookmark he was toying with. The name Cassie was written on it in script with a pink metallic pen. 

“Why don’t you like being called Cassandra?” he asked again, trailing one rounded corner of the bookmark along the slope of my right foot.

I sighed and shut the book close. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“You promised me.”

I looked at him for a second before nodding. “I told you I was a late bloomer. I didn’t fill out until much later after every girl in my class had already started sporting boobs and curves. There was a boy I liked in fifth grade. He was a transfer and was very cute. I wrote him anonymous love notes and tucked them in his locker or in his binder whenever I passed his chair in class. He apparently got very curious about the notes and showed them to other kids in class asking if they recognized the handwriting.”

I briefly closed my eyes, trying to detach myself from the sting of the memories. When I opened my eyes, Sebastian was waiting patiently.

“One of the girls told them it was by Cassandra. They all called me Cassandra because my Mom insisted I be called nothing else. One day I walked into class and everyone turned to look at me. In the ironic, absolute silence of a sixth grade classroom, the boy looked up and said out loud, ‘That’s Cassandra? I thought because of her name, she would be beautiful.’”

“I ran out of the classroom and stayed home all day,” I admitted with a rueful smile. “I was mortified. Since then, I always introduced and signed myself as Cassie. That way, I didn’t disappoint, you know?”

“That boy was a moron,” was Sebastian’s icy comment. “And you were too young and too naive to realize that he was.”

I laughed, the fleeting embarrassment of the memory gone more quickly than it ever did before. “I was an ugly duckling so I don’t really blame him. I was short and pudgy and sad-looking.”

“I’m sure you were adorable,” Sebastian said with a dismissive shake of his head. “It’s not your fault that that boy was stupid.”

“Remind me never to show you my pictures,” I joked as I crawled across the bed and snuggled up to him. 

He kissed my hair and pulled me close to him.

“There was a photo of you in a white wooden picture frame displayed in your house,” he said slowly. “You were sitting on a garden bench, looking over your shoulder and smiling at the camera. Your hair was was tumbling in soft waves down your back and you wore a crown of small white flowers on your head. In the photo, I could see the billowy white sleeves of your dress and a strip of golden, lightly freckled skin on your shoulder. Your brown eyes were warm and soulful and your pink lips held a half-smile, one dimple slightly showing. I remember it in sharp detail now. You looked like a forest nymph.”

I smiled. “That was a spring dance in junior year. Kyle took that picture of me. I didn’t have anything new to wear so I took my mother’s wedding gown—it was a beautiful, long and slim white lace gown—and I plucked some newly bloomed cherry blossoms from my aunt’s garden to make my crown. I thought I looked pretty.”

“You looked very beautiful in that photo,” Sebastian murmured, kissing me softly on the lips. “That was the photo Pendley caught me staring at when I went to see him. The one that convinced him I would offer no resistance to you. I hate to say it but he was right on that score.”

I playfully slapped his shoulder. “You did offer resistance. You still are.”

He smiled and kissed my cheek. “You’ve broken past my boundaries, my love. Any resistance I’m offering is for your own protection.”

I shivered at his new endearment, one that held the word that’s been rolling around the back of my mind in the last few days. “I haven’t broken past all of them but I’ve seen enough to know there is nothing about you that you need to protect me from, Sebastian.”

He smiled painfully, lowering his head so our foreheads touched. “I’m not a good man, Cassandra. You don’t see it often but you’ve glimpsed it. You know it’s there.”

“Well, I never expected you to be a saint,” I told him. “I have no interest in saints. Only fellow sinners like me.”

I thought he would at least be mildly amused by the lame joke but he just grimaced as if something hurt.

“My sins are in my blood,” he said under his breath, his arms tightening around me. “They forever taint me. Nothing I do will ever change that.”

Well, that was cryptic but at least it was something.

“I don’t need you to change.” I kissed his chin and slid my fingers through his hair. 

“Maybe not but you definitely wouldn’t want me to change back,” he answered, catching my hand and kissing my fingertips. 

He took a deep breath and when he looked at me, his green eyes were so anguished my heart literally felt the blade of it cut deep. My hand instantly curled around Sebastian’s own that held mine.

“Alfred helped me get through the worst years of my life,” he started slowly. “He became the father that my own could never be to me. He couldn’t fix what had happened but he didn’t give up on getting me to see past that and into the life I still had left. I didn’t have very much interest in what happened to me but I felt I had to do something so I wouldn’t let down the one person who gave a shit about me.”

Sebastian let his head fall back as he closed his eyes, his face pained with memories. “When he died, I felt like the world shifted and I was on my own again. I wondered if without Alfred, the past was going to come back for me and turn me into the monster I was meant to be. No one was left to care, no one to stop me.”

Then he opened his eyes and gazed deeply into me. “But you were there. You didn’t give me an inch. You flung my sins right back at me and badgered me to get over myself. When I saw your bruises and remembered how far I was about to go that day when I was drunk out of my mind, I felt so ashamed. There’s this beautiful, innocent flower and I was soiling it when all it wanted was to cheer me up and make me smile.”

I blinked back the tears from my eyes. 

Sebastian smiled and traced his thumb across my quivering lower lip. “I swore right then and there that I was going to do everything I can to protect you—even if it was to keep you away from me.”

“You can’t put me in a glass box and watch me from afar, Sebastian,” I said softly. “I’ll need to be let out in the sun, to feel the breeze, to be watered and nurtured with care and affection.”

“I’m not one for care and affection, Cassandra,” he said with a weary sigh. “All I know is cold, ruthless money-making, casual fucking and a solitary existence.”

I winced at his crude words. “It’s not your fault you’re a sharp businessman. Or that women expect more than what they know they’ll be getting from you. Or that other people don’t see enough of the real you to know it’s there.”

“Don’t defend me, Cassandra. I know my faults and admit to them.” He reached up and caught a lock of my hair with his hand, which he studied for a long moment as he wrapped it around his fingers. “I have family, you know? I have a stepmother, stepbrother and two half-siblings who are twins. The first two, I hardly care about but the latter I’ve barely seen or talked to in the last six months through no fault of their own.”

“My stepmother Brenda accused me of being a cold-hearted son of a bitch and I just laughed at her and told her it was the first smart thing I’ve heard come out of her mouth when it wasn’t busy servicing her string of lovers,” he went on, smiling without humor. “My stepbrother Jared punched me in the face at that comment and I took the excuse to beat him senseless. All of this at the twins’ sixteenth birthday party. Lexie, my baby sister, was so embarrassed she didn’t talk to me for a month.”

My heart lurched. 

My poor, lonely and hurting Sebastian who was more comfortable lashing out than lowering his defenses. 

“I deserved it so don’t feel bad for me,” he said with a gentle tug at my hair. “Brenda is right. I am a cold-hearted son of a bitch.”

“Nonsense!” I admonished. “You could be a crude son of a bitch when you’re feeling especially hurtful but no one with a cold heart can paint all these artworks around me.”

He laughed softly and sat up to cup my face, kissing me tenderly. “I painted a lot when I was a child. Everyday was poetry and painting. My mother painted all the time and I probably held a brush way before I could stand on my own two feet. With the exception of one particular pink daisy, all of these paintings were from the time before my family fell apart. I stopped painting when I was six, after my mother died.”

My jaw dropped.

One, I was stunned to know all these paintings, simple and almost effortless, were done by a little boy who must’ve inherited his mother’s superb talent; and two, I was heartbroken at the image of the same little boy crying silently at the loss of his mother.

I sniffed and let Sebastian brush away a few teardrops that rolled down my cheek.

“You should paint again,” I murmured against his lips as I leaned in to kiss him. 

“Maybe,” he said, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close. “I just had to do the daisy. It reminds me of you and I hope that when you look at it, you don’t think of what that stupid boy said about you.”

I nodded. I didn’t need to change the past. I had to embrace the present and right now, this magnificent man believed me beautiful enough like a vibrant daisy he just had to sit down and paint it after almost twenty-four years of separation from his canvas and brush.

“I’d like to paint you,” Sebastian said with a shy grin. “If you’d let me.”

I looked around the room and quickly scanned the various paintings. “I don’t see that you’ve done any human form but I’d love to do it.”

His grin broke out completely, stealing my breath away for a second. “You, my love, will be the first of many things for me.”

There it was again, that endearment.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and nuzzled his cheek. “As you will be for me, my love.”

***

We spent part of the afternoon snuggling and sitting out on the balcony of the studio where Sebastian wanted to start on his painting.

He had hauled out a large, wicker chair for me to sit in. I wore the white dress he gave me for that fourth of July party and I brushed my hair down and let it softly surround my shoulders. 

I insisted at first that I didn’t look my best to sit for him but he assured me that today, he was only mainly concerned with starting some outlines and scale. 

For dinner, at my insistence, we sat out down by the beach on a picnic blanket, roasting hotdogs and marshmallows over a small campfire he built. I was bundled up in sweatpants and a hoodie to keep warm although the kiss we’d shared after that was enough to make me sizzle.

He read to me in bed again, before getting distracted with my roving hands that were lazily rubbing his stomach over his cotton shirt.

He kissed me senseless again for about half an hour before he pulled me into his arms and said goodnight.

I could feel the tent in his pants but he curled his legs up so his hips would be further away from me. I bit back a groan of frustration and made a mental promise to address this issue in five days.

I wanted Sebastian and I wanted to share this with him and I was going to convince him of it.

Two days later, I was feeling a lot more back to normal.

My color had improved and my sniffles were almost completely gone.

That morning, Sebastian woke me up and told me to get dressed, pack some swimming essentials and meet him in half an hour down at the beach. He was waiting with a picnic basket.

He led me down the narrow strip of beach around the cove until we reached a dock where a massive and gorgeous white luxury yacht almost the size of a mini cruise ship sat next to another one much smaller although no less luxurious. 

“The big one is called Marianna,” he said as he helped me up the dock. “It’s named after my mother. And the smaller one is named Alexandra, after my baby sister Lexie.”

I stood marveling at the two vessels when a short, stocky man with a shock of carrot-colored hair stepped out of Alexandra and eagerly shook Sebastian’s hand.

“Cassandra, this is Jeff Compton. Jeff, meet Cassandra Collins.,” Sebastian introduced and I shook the man’s hand and gave him a polite smile. “He got Alexandra all ready for us. Jeff looks after my boats and my aircrafts for me.”

I raised an amused brow at Sebastian. “You sound like you have a few.”

Jeff laughed. “Oh, he does, Ms. Collins.”

“Oh, please call me Cassie—er—”I glanced at Sebastian and smiled sheepishly. “—Cassandra, I mean. Thank you for all your preparations, Jeff.”

The man just beamed and waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, it’s nothing. I usually work at the hangar because the planes get used more by the company but I don’t mind dropping by Cove Manor at all. It’s gorgeous out here and it’s looking to be a beautiful day so I’m certain you’ll have a pleasant little spin out in the water today.”

“That’s my hope, Jeff,” Sebastian said with a grin, patting the man’s back. “Thanks again, my man. See you later.”

I have never been on board a yacht my entire life so I felt a little unsure of myself wandering around. Sebastian stored all the food he brought in the small kitchen and went on to set us sailing.

I stood by the viewing deck watching Cove Manor grow smaller and smaller as we went further into sea. 

“Why don’t you change into your swimsuit while I go get us something cold to drink?” Sebastian murmured in my ear as he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. 

I turned around in his embrace and smiled. “I’m already in my swimsuit. It’s just under this dress.”

He grinned and took a step back, waiting as I pushed down the straps of my blue and white gingham sundress. 

I was wearing my turquoise bikini again and because I lost my appetite during the few days I was sick, I lost some of the roundness in my belly and I actually looked really great in it. Not the kind of weight-loss method I’d recommend but I couldn’t complain about the results.

Sebastian smiled appreciatively and reached up to tug the ponytail out of my hair, freeing up the thick wavy locks to the breeze. 

Sebastian took his turn and pulled off his white shirt and tossed it on top of my dress on a nearby lounge chair. He was wearing dark brown drawstring linen pants that hung a bit low, showing off his ripped stomach and the seductive dips on each side of his hips.

“Come here, Cassandra,” he said huskily, placing a hand on my waist and pulling me towards him. 

I stood on my tiptoes and met his mouth in a slow, sensual kiss. 

The heat between us intensified and he moaned against my mouth when my hand dropped in front of his pants and cupped the hardness there. 

He cursed and pulled away, dragging in a loud, uneven breath.

“You’re going to kill me, Cassandra,” he muttered, shaking his head and pacing away from me. “I swear I’ll be dead from a blood clot by the time this week is through.”

I suppressed a smile. “I’m sorry. This is all your fault, you know?”

He raised a brow at me. 

“I, ah, never knew what the body was capable of,” I answered, shyly glancing at him from underneath my lashes. “Until you showed me. Now you have to finish through with the lesson.”

He groaned but smiled anyway. “Have I told you you don’t give an inch?”

I let my gaze drop back to the front of his pants and smiled cheekily. “Oh, you can bet I’ll give you several more inches.”

He threw his head back and laughed and I giggled and looped my arms around his neck, letting him hoist me up for another kiss.

We spent the rest of the day out floating around the cerulean ocean, enjoying a simple lunch under the warm sunshine and talking and kissing the time away.

“So where are you attending school this fall?” he asked out of the blue while we were stretched out on the lounge chairs. 

I had my wide-brimmed straw hat and sunglasses on and layers of sunscreen on my exposed skin while Sebastian had changed into black board shorts that revealed long, sinewy legs.

“UPenn,” I answered, reaching for my glass of lemonade and taking a long sip. “I’m just waiting on my scholarship applications. I should’ve applied for more had I known Timothy had spent all of my college money but now I’m just relieved that at least I’d sent some applications in.”

His eyes narrowed. “When are you going to know? What are you going to do if none of those pan out?”

I sighed. “I should know around late August for the school’s financial aid program. I’m not sure about the other scholarships. I have some money in a savings account from my previous summer jobs and leftover allowance. That should tide me over until I hear about the grants. If nothing comes out of the applications, I can always work part time and get student loans.”

I hated having to talk about this now and ruin the beautiful day we were having with my anxieties about college. It had been crossing my mind a lot lately with summer coming closer to its end but I had managed to keep it out of our conversations. All I had with Sebastian was this summer—I intended not to spoil it.

“I’ll take care of all of this, Cassandra,” he said after a moment of silence. “You’ll never have to worry about money ever again.”

I flinched. “I’m not taking your money, Sebastian. I’ll see this through myself, thank you very much.”

“Cassandra, darling—”

“Don’t darling me into accepting your whore’s pay, Sebastian,” I snapped furiously. 

He glowered at me. “It’s not a whore’s pay—”

“That’s what I call money you’ll give me because I’ll be sleeping with you,” I shot back. “I will be no man’s tuition prostitute. Do you understand?”

“You’re not a prostitute! Say that again about yourself and I’ll take you over my knee and spank you senseless,” he warned angrily. “You’re mine to care for and pro—”

He stopped abruptly when I suddenly burst into tears.

He was by my side in an instant, pulling my hands away from my face. “Baby, what’s wrong? Tell me. Please, don’t cry.”

I swept the tears away from my face but they kept coming. 

“I don’t want to be like my Mom.”

Sebastian paused. “What do you mean?”

I bit my quivering lower lip and broke away from his gaze. “My mother was very pretty. She met this older man while she was attending college in Cobalt Bay. They became lovers and he promised her the world. He promised to leave his wife for her but he left one day and never came back. She was pregnant with me, poor and disgraced. Then she met a nice man who loved her and married her. He gave both of us his name and he took care of her as much as he could before he died which was only a year after she gave birth to me.”

“I’m so sorry, Cassandra,” Sebastian whispered to me in a hollow, tender voice, pulling me into his arms and settling me on his lap. “I didn’t know. And it’s certainly not what I meant when I offered you help. I want you to be—”

“Just don’t, please,” I begged through sobs. “I loved my mother. She made mistakes but she loved me. She’d told me the truth when I was little but I had been too young that I didn’t really understand what happened until my aunt told me again after I turned fifteen. I can’t make the same mistake, Sebastian.”

“And you’re not going to,” he told me soothingly, rubbing a hand on my back. 

I looked up to him through wet lashes and pleaded with my eyes. “I’m with you because I want to be. Because I love you.”

It was too late by the time I realized what I said.

The shock in Sebastian’s face registered and my face burned with embarrassment. 

Nothing like a cheesy declaration of love to ruin a perfectly good seduction.

I struggled to get off his lap but his arms tightened around my waist.

“I promise you it’ll be nothing like you fear,” he whispered thickly, burying his face against my neck. “But you win for now. I won’t bring it up again until things sort themselves out.”

“Thank you, Sebastian,” I said quietly, looking down at my fidgeting hands on my lap.

“I will be nothing like your biological father,” he added, lifting my chin up so he could look at me. His green eyes were glittering with a variety of emotions. “I will never treat you that way.”

I nodded and smiled tremulously at him before leaning down to kiss him sweetly on the lips.

I longed to tell him again how much I loved him but one slip up was enough. At least he hasn’t scrambled to run far away from me yet. 

The way he held me tight made me wonder if he felt the same way but I silenced my questions.

There will be a right time for laying down all our cards.

***

What do you think so far about how Cassie and Sebastian's relationship is progressing?

By the way, if you love this story, I have another lighter read that you might want to check out. It's The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield. Hope you'll like it too. Happy reading!