Fairy Tales Of New York: Taming The Beast Part 8

"Every minute I wasnt at high school I was put to work in the vineyard. Cleaning, harvesting, bottling. You name it, I did it."

"Just like that? No complaints?"

If only. "Oh, I complained bitterly at first," she said, remembering the many occasions shed b.u.t.ted heads with her parents, especially her father. "But it didnt make any difference and eventually I came to the conclusion that I might as well knuckle down and get on with it. I did everything my parents asked and more... I think I had something to prove."

"Have you done that?"

"I hope so. The first thing I did with the modic.u.m of responsibility I was eventually given was to bring in some new root stock and some good people. Then I set about expanding our operations, modernizing production and streamlining our processes. I travelled, attended conferences and met with distributors. As a result of all that networking and the increasing quality of our wines I built up our global brand and quadrupled our exports." And now she was sounding like some kind of promotional video. "I think Ive done OK," she said with a tiny shrug.

"All that in ten years?"

"More or less."

"Impressive."

"Not really because actually Ive loved every minute of it and its easy to do stuff when you love it. The vineyard is possibly my favorite place on earth." Although his bed came a close second. "Theres something intoxicating about the smell of the soil at dawn. At least for me. And the view at sunset is heavenly. Its impossible not to love it. My only regret is missing out on a proper education. This is my chance to experience that."

"Why New York?"

"Because Sterns one of the best and they accepted me."

"Sensible of them."

"I like to think so," she said, ignoring the faint glow that bloomed inside her at his words because the only glow she was interested in was a post-o.r.g.a.s.mic one.

"And hows it going?"

"Its tough. But Im relishing the challenge."

"You have admirable ambition."

"Dont you?"

"Of course."

"So what do you do, Seb, in that big old office of yours?" When not s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g women on his desk, although hopefully he didnt make a habit of that.

"I run the Madison Foundation," he said.

"Which involves what?"

"Deciding on how to spend huge sums of money, largely. The Foundation designs and funds national and international initiatives. We offer grants and we help charities. The Madison Trust manages the investment side of things, and I develop the strategy to use the money it makes."

"Its a big job."

"Its a big business."

That was an understatement. According to the last report shed read, the Madison Foundation, which was over one hundred years old, had ten billion dollars under management. Its main areas of interest were improving world health and education, eliminating poverty and protecting human rights. The Madison name adorned inst.i.tutions across the globe. "Did you walk straight into it?" Mercy asked.

Seb shook his head. "No, although naively Id planned to. But I was only twenty-three and knew nothing so the board and trustees had other ideas. I did stints in various departments to get to know how it operated before taking up the reins."

"It sounds challenging."

"It is."

"But does it match up to the excitement of a career in the French Foreign Legion, I wonder?" she asked, thinking about the tattoo between his shoulder blades, which consisted of a circle, about three inches in diameter and contained a vertical dagger with some kind of flame thing around it to the right, all of which she found unbelievably s.e.xy, more so because it seemed so at odds with his cool, aloof exterior.

"Actually, that wasnt as exciting as it sounds," said Seb idly.

"Will you tell me about it?"

"What do you want to know?"

Did it work? Did you find absolution? No. Way too personal. And she didnt want to know any of that anyway. Really, she didnt. "What was it like?"

"It was fine. It was a job."

Just a job? Or an escape, his own personal Lethe, a refuge... Agh. Stop it. "Were you good at it?"

"They offered me a medal."

Mercy scrambled up at that, clutching the sheet to her chest, her eyes widening. "A medal? What for?"

Seb frowned, his expression suddenly shuttered. "Bravery," he said, making it sound like a four letter word.

And, oh dear, there went her soppy, melting heart. "How come? What did you do? Can you even say?"

"Its in the public domain."

So she could look it up, but "Save me some time?"

Seb looked as if he was going to tell her to forget it, but then he seemed to decide otherwise. "We were operating in a square in a remote town in Mali," he said. "My platoon was under attack and we were outnumbered. There were women and children around. I saved a mother and child from a hail of bullets."

She stared at him. "Wow."

He shrugged. "Anyone would have done the same. I just happened to be there."

Yeah, right.

"The timing of it was fortuitous though," he said, "because it made my superiors more lenient when it came to having to take time out to deal with my wayward, troublesome sister."

"Does she know about the medal?" Because Zel had never mentioned it.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I turned it down."

Mercy gaped at him. Hed done what? "Why?"

"I didnt deserve it."

"But "

"I didnt deserve it."

Oh. Right. No. Clearly hed still been riddled with guilt and self-hatred at the time. Well. On to easier, happier subjects. "Did you ever kill anyone?"

He gave her a faint smile. "Not that time."

"But others?"

"I was a soldier in the 2nd parachute regiment, Mercedes. I operated in some of the most hostile, most dangerous, most lawless environments on the planet. What do you think?"

She thought he was brave. Insanely brave. And not just because of the medal, although that was pretty swoon-worthy. It had taken guts to admit hed been wrong about Zelda, and the process of getting there must have been pretty traumatic, so she thought too that he was strong, admirable and worthy of respect.

She also thought he was still a bit broken, wounded and hurting. And possibly in need of help, both on the relationship with his sister front and the army front because the latter, in particular, must have been brutally tough.

Not that it mattered what she thought. Just because she recognized that Seb was perhaps in trouble it didnt mean she was intending to do anything about it. Because she wasnt. She totally wasnt. It wasnt part of the deal.

"Does your time in the army bother you?" she asked.

"No."

"Have you ever had counselling?"

"No."

"Maybe you should." And maybe she wasnt talking about it only in relation to his spell as a soldier.

"I dont need it."

"You have nightmares."

"Only the one. And we both know that didnt have anything to do with my experiences in the Legion."

"Do you speak French?"

"Oui. Couramment. We all had to learn. It was a condition of conscription."

Mercy shivered because, hmm, it was s.e.xy, that accent... "Want me to teach you how to swear in Spanish?" Because that could be fun.

"I already know."

"Oh?"

"Spanish corporal in my platoon."

"Do you still keep in touch with anyone from back then?"

"No."

She tilted her head and looked at him closely. "Do you have any friends at all, Seb?"

"One or two."

Or none, she thought, something deep inside her aching. Muscles shed never known she had which had been put to use extremely thoroughly, most likely. "What about Ty?"

"What about him?"

"Have you met him?"

"No," he said. "Not yet."

"You should. I think youd like him. He has integrity. Intelligence. Loyalty. Hed be a good friend, I think, if you got to know him and let him get to know you."

"Ill bear it in mind," he said, but something in his tone made her doubt he would.

"Dont you get lonely?" She would, without her friends, without hi-. No.

Sebs smile faded and a taut stillness came over him. "Now that is a personal question," he said carefully.

Yes, it was. Way too personal, actually, and what did it matter to her whether he got lonely or not? All she was interested in was the things he could do to her body, talking of which...

"So distract me," she said, lying back and shooting him a do-me-now look, whereupon Seb did at length and very effectively.

And when he left her apartment later that afternoon, and she checked her responses against her scenarios, she was pleased to learn that despite their earlier conversation, this thing between them was still just s.e.x.

Chapter Seven.

The next Sat.u.r.day Seb rolled off Mercy and flopped back on the pillows, his heart pumping like a steam train and his breathing all over the place in the aftermath of what had to have been the most exhilarating s.e.xual experience of his life which was saying something given how hard theyd been going at it over the last few weekends and wished hed never started with the whole conversation thing, because, apparently, if he gave it an inch it took a mile.

The point hed made last week had been perfectly valid. He and Mercy had to talk about something while they caught their breath, and the cautious small talk theyd been engaging in up to then had been driving him nuts.

But still.

Why had he told her about his medal? Why had he done that? He hadnt told anyone. And why, when shed asked if he ever got lonely had he been tempted to confess that he did, on occasion? The medal was no big deal and of course he wasnt lonely. There werent enough hours in the day for him to do all the things he needed to do as it was. He certainly didnt have time to be lonely.