Seduction Assignment. Helen Bianchin
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‘Beautiful day.’
She’d slept well. It made the fact that he hadn’t seem worthwhile.
‘Should I put this down to chance? Or is your appearance on the beach at this hour a forerunner of things to come?’
My, she possessed a sharp tongue. He had an urge to take her mouth with his own and change tart to something smooth and sweet.
‘You object to my company?’
She placed a hand on each hip, taking defiance to a new level. ‘In the thinly veiled guise of bodyguard, yes.’
He had to work hard to prevent humour from entering his voice. ‘Are you saying only one of us gets to share your run?’
Damn him, he was amused. ‘Given a choice, Shaef wins out.’ Her eyes searched his, saw the purposeful intent evident, and she released a deep sigh. ‘But you’re not going to give me a choice, are you?’
‘No.’
‘I just might have to hit you.’
‘Think carefully before you do.’
There was a silkiness evident in his tone that sent a faint shiver down the length of her spine.
Without a further word she turned and broke into a run, aware of the moment he joined her, man and dog matching their stride to hers. Part of her wanted to set a punishing pace, but she knew she’d never outrun either of them.
A degree of resentment rose to the surface. Against Adam, if it was he who’d initiated a nuisance campaign, but primarily with Sebastian, for any number of reasons, she decided darkly. Foremost, for tugging at her emotions and turning them every which way but loose.
The sandy cove curved out to sea in a low outcrop of rocks, and Anneke turned when she reached that point and began retracing her steps without pause.
Shaef was having a wonderful time, bounding on ahead, then diverging down to the incoming tide to examine a shell or a piece of seaweed. Sebastian jogged steadily at her side.
It was a relief to draw level with her towel, and without saying so much as a word she pulled off her joggers, stripped down to her swimsuit, and sprinted lightly down to the water’s edge.
She fully expected Sebastian to join her, and silently vowed as she dived into the cool sea that he’d regret it if he did. Quite how she’d ensure he regretted it, she wasn’t clear.
Sebastian intuitively opted to engage Shaef in a game of throw-the-stick until Anneke emerged.
‘Wise,’ she muttered beneath her breath, and missed the amused gleam in his dark eyes as he called Shaef to heel.
‘Share breakfast with me.’
She was sharing his dog, his protection. That was enough. She caught up the towel and wound it sarong-wise round her waist. ‘Thanks, but no, thanks. I have a heap of things to do.’
He snared her wrist as she turned to walk away from him. ‘Lock the cottage securely if you go anywhere. Drive with the central locking system in place. And make sure you park the car on a main thoroughfare.’
She began to steam with indignation. ‘Anything else?’
‘Carry your mobile phone at all times.’
‘I’m amazed you haven’t mentioned Shaef.’
‘That’s a given,’ Sebastian intoned hardily. ‘Where you go, he goes.’
The steam changed to smoke. ‘Now just a tiny minute, here.’ Anneke lifted a hand and poked his chest. Hard. ‘If my heavy breather is Adam, he’s hundreds of miles south in Sydney. A nuisance, but not a threat.’
‘And if it’s not Adam?’
Ice chilled her veins. ‘I intend to find out one way or another. Meantime, stay off my back.’ She poked his chest again for good measure, then tugged her hand free and marched back to the cottage.
Impossible, dictatorial, stubborn man. Who did he think he was? And by what right did he imagine he could tell her what to do?
Sebastian watched her retreating form, and that of Shaef, who, at a click of Sebastian’s fingers, had taken a few bounding strides to fall in at Anneke’s side.
A woman who would give as good as she got, and be passionate in giving it… Be it anger, or making love. The former he could handle with one hand tied behind his back. It was the latter that bothered him.
He could have done with cooling down in the ocean himself, and he measured the time it would take her to shower, make coffee, eat whatever it was she had for breakfast, then begin making phone calls.
At the very least he had ten minutes, even if she messed up the order of things.
Anneke entered the cottage and headed straight for the shower, where she sluiced off the salt water and shampooed her hair. Then, towelled dry, she dressed in sapphire-blue shorts and a matching sleeveless top.
Coffee, hot, sweet, strong and black, then she’d fill a bowl with cereal and fruit.
It was after eight when she crossed to the phone. Aunt Vivienne was first on her list, and, after eliciting news that Elise was fine, she gave her aunt relevant details and relayed the fact that until she contacted the police she had no idea whether they’d put a trace on the line or suggest she apply for an unlisted number. Either way, Aunt Vivienne’s permission was essential.
Next came a call to the phone company, who, on receiving relevant details, promised to check their records and ring back.
Which left the police. Two ‘on hold’s and two transfers later, she connected with a very informative young man.
‘Yes, ma’am. The complaint was logged in at twenty-o-five hundred hours last night by a Sebastian Lanier acting on behalf of Vivienne Sorrel, owner of the property. The duty officer advised appropriate action, which I understand is being taken, pending authority this morning from Vivienne Sorrel. Perhaps you might like to check with Sebastian Lanier?’
Check with him? She’d kill him! ‘Thank you.’ She replaced the receiver with care, then turned and marched from the cottage, closing the distance between both residences in swift, angry strides.
The back door was open, the screen door unlatched, and she knocked once, then entered to find Sebastian crisping bacon in the microwave while eggs simmered in a pan atop the stove.
‘What God-given right do you think you have to log in a report with the police on my behalf?’ Anneke demanded wrathfully.
The toaster popped up crisped bread, and he crossed to the servery, removed both slices and calmly buttered them.
‘You’re angry.’
Emerald fire flashed in her eyes, and she had to clench her fists to refrain from lashing out at him. ‘You bet your sweet life I am.’
He glanced up, and shot her a direct look as he extracted a plate from the cupboard. ‘I thought it wise to instigate immediate enquiries.’
‘Just who in hell do you think you are?’
He placed the toast onto the plate. ‘I promised Vivienne I’d keep an eye on you.’
‘Well, you can take your damned eye off me, as of now.’
Sebastian deftly removed the pan, slid eggs onto toast, collected the bacon, and carried both plates to the table.
‘Want to share?’
‘No, I don’t want to share anything with you!’ She drew in a deep breath and released it. ‘Nothing, nada, niente. Do you understand?’
He filled a mug with steaming aromatic black coffee, stirred in sugar, and savoured a mouthful. His shoulders lifted in a deliberate Gallic shrug. ‘That’s certainly specific.’