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Authors: Lara Richard

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BOOK: A Dance for Him
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“Oh, Sebastian,” I sigh. “You’re very sweet. But what will your dad think when he hears about all this?”

He pulls up in front of his house, in his usual parking spot, before turning to me and smiling his old roguish smile that I love so much.

“You know, dad can be a bit eccentric, and he’ll probably grumble a bit at first, but he’ll totally understand when he meets you.”

“W-when he meets me?” I stammer, taken aback.

When, he said, not if …

He strokes my cheek and gazes into my eyes.

“Sweet girl. You know, I - I’ve been planning to invite you over for Thanksgiving. Or at least for Christmas, if you feel that’s too soon. I’d like to invite your mom too, if you’re okay with it. I think it’s time our families met.”

I’m looking at him, wide-eyed.

“I - I would love to, Sebastian,” I stammer. “But if you resign, won’t they think of me as the little hussy who ruined their son’s career?”

“Darling girl,” he says, smiling. “You’re smart, strong, sweet and feisty. I don’t think they could ask for more in a future daughter-in-law. I’m sure they’ll love you.”

I didn’t think I was capable of opening my eyes even wider, but apparently I was wrong about that.

“Sebastian Morland,” I breathe. “You’re not proposing to me, are you?”

He smiles and takes my hand.

“I was going to wait till we got in the house, but - yes, I am. Marry me, Paige. I think we could be very happy together. You can still go to law school or graduate school, no problem there, though if you prefer to stay at home and be my full-time wife and lover, I won’t exactly object either. I’ve got plenty for both of us and any children we might have in the future, even without the teaching job. And we can move anywhere you want. I can write anywhere - I’m not super-attached to this house, I only inherited it three years ago, it’s of minimal sentimental value. It’s you I want to spend the rest of my life with. Because I love you, Paige. I don’t know if your friend relayed that part of my message to you, but … I’m crazy about you and I don’t want to be without you.”

“Oh, Sebastian,” I breathe, my heart racing. “Of course I will. I love you too, you know that …”

He kisses me, then looks at me, glowing.

“Let’s go in the house, shall we? I think this calls for a bit of a celebration.”

I beam at him as we unbuckle our seat belts. It’s only when we get out of the car that something suddenly occurs to me.

“You know, I just realised that my car is still in the parking lot outside the club …”

He laughs.

“We’ll pick it up tomorrow. I’ll go with you, and if there are any issues, I’ll deal with them. On the off-chance that there’s any property damage - well, I’m sure my girl could use a new car. Now come on in.”

He pats me on the butt and slides his arm around my waist as he unlocks the door to his house.

“Oh, and I do have another favor to ask of you,” I say as we step over the threshold.

“Anything for my baby girl.”

“Can I take a shower? I always feel a bit grotty after I’ve been at the club.”

He flashes a smile on me, that dazzling, flirtatious, impertinent smile that never fails to turn my knees wobbly.

“On one condition.”

“Ah?”

He kisses me.

“That I get to be in the shower with you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EPILOGUE

A year later

“Auntie Paige, auntie Paige, there’s a fountain in the garden!”

It’s Bobby, Ashley’s son, clearly very excited about the gardens of the restaurant that Sebastian and I rented for our wedding reception.

It’s not a huge reception, just for close friends and family, though it’s so elegantly set up, thanks to a wedding planner friend of Sebastian’s mom Marie, that I can barely believe this is
my
wedding reception, not something straight out of a magazine, with all its trappings - sleek designer wedding dress, tastefully engraved invitations, champagne toasts, a gorgeous triple-decker fondant cake, all color-coordinated to the very last detail.

And
a fountain in the garden, of course.

“Yes, sweetie, there’s a fountain in the garden, isn’t that nice? But have you had your cake?”

“Yes,” he says, before his eyes light up suddenly. “Can I have another slice though?”

He’s definitely lost that initial shyness that he had when I first ran into him and Ashley at the mall. Of course, that’s hardly surprising - I’ve been hanging out with her a fair bit since I graduated, and even occasionally babysit for her when her sister’s unavailable, so these days I’m Auntie Paige and not just some random stranger.

I laugh.

“Of course you may have another slice, Bobby, as long as your mom doesn’t mind.”

“She doesn’t mind,” he says, with his best innocent expression. “And even if she did, she won’t go over to the cake table, so if I eat my cake there, she won’t see me.”

“Hm. What’s wrong with the cake table?”

He beckons to me to stoop so he can whisper in my ear, which he does with all the conspiratorial gusto of the precocious eight-year-old that he is.

“It’s that guy over there,” he hisses dramatically, indicating Sebastian’s cousin, a tall blond guy who’s currently standing in the vicinity of the cake table and absorbed in texting on his phone as he holds his still-uneaten cake with his free hand.

I glance at Sebastian, who shrugs, amused. “Grant? What’s wrong with Grant?”

Bobby shakes his head.

“I dunno, all I know is mom doesn’t want to go anywhere near him.”

I make a mental note to ask Ashley about this later. Grant is one of the Morland Schaeffer directors, a very self-contained, ruthless businessman type, not maybe the warmest person around but relatively civil for a billionaire.

I can’t help but wonder why Ashley’s avoiding him …

“Well, Bobby, come along, I’ll get you some cake,” I say, smiling at Sebastian, who blows me a kiss.

Bobby trots off after me and runs off happily with his cake once he gets it.

“Nice kid, isn’t he?” someone behind me at the cake table says. “So well-behaved.”

It’s Marie, Sebastian’s mom, the psychology professor, a tall, elegant woman in her late fifties, wry of manner but rather sweet and garrulous when she’s not hiding her personality under a professorial veneer of cool intelligence.

“Oh, hello, Marie! Yes, he’s a lovely kid. By the way I want to thank you so much for sending Melissa to work with us for the party, everything’s so beautiful it’s amazing.”

She smiles.

“Well, we’ve waited so long for Sebastian to settle down, it would only be right to throw a good party for both of you. And, you know, we’re very glad he met you. I know Harry occasionally still grumbles about him quitting his position, but you mustn’t mind that, he’s really very fond of you nevertheless.”

“Well, I’m very grateful you’ve been so understanding about that part of it, about how we met.”

She waves my remark away, in her customary benevolent
grande dame
manner.

“Don’t be silly, darling, Sebastian was never the conventional type, you know? It’s one of the reasons I’m so glad he met you. I’ve spent my life in academia, and am quite happy to have done so, but it was obvious to me that he was slowly withering away in it, just because he didn’t want to disappoint Harry. I think even Harry knows that, though he’ll never dream of admitting it, of course. So it was good that the situation forced his hand. Look at how well he’s doing these days, he’s writing again, new novel coming out soon, and so
happy
. My God, I don’t remember the last time we saw him so happy. I don’t know what it is you’re doing for him, and I suspect we don’t want to know, haha, but whatever it is, it’s clearly working out very well.”

I blush at her presumable allusion to our sex life. On the other hand, she
was
very open-minded about it all when it finally came out that I’d worked briefly as a stripper. “Darling,” she drawled languidly at the time, “the Morlands are an old family … of robber barons, that is. Lots of colorful characters in the family tree, needless to say. In other words, I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

I suppose that might have been a good side effect of having a mother-in-law who’s taught Human Sexuality 101 in college! …

“Anyway, I won’t keep you longer,” she continues, “there are other people who want to talk to you, I’m sure, but I just want to tell you that I’m delighted, just delighted to welcome you into the family … Oh, and one more thing. You know, I always wanted to tell you something, but I never really got around to it, and this seems like a fitting occasion for it. I don’t suppose Sebastian ever told you how I met Harry?”

“No, didn’t you meet when you were colleagues?”

An impish grin, so different from her usual demeanor, crosses her face briefly.

“That’s what everyone assumes, darling, probably just because we’re both academics. I’m actually not even sure if Sebastian knows the real story, Harry never wanted to talk much about it in front of people, he’s a bit uptight, you know? But it was all back then, when I was a young and dewy grad student in the Psych department, and Harry was teaching a class on Freudian readings of Shakespeare. Anyway, I had a couple of elective credits that I needed and so I thought I’d take it. You can guess what happened not long afterwards …”

“Wait, so you met the way we did?”

“You do the math, darling,” she says cheerfully. “We’ll have been married thirty-seven years this fall. And now I really must go, because Harry’s getting a little too much into the champagne.”

I return to Sebastian’s side, only to find him in conversation with mom, whom we flew in for the wedding.

“Hi, mom! Enjoying the party?”

“Oh, it’s beautiful, Paige. I’m so happy for you both. And you look gorgeous. My little girl, all grown up,” she says, dabbing her eyes slightly. “I was just telling Sebastian I’m so happy you found him, he’s clearly been taking good care of you.”

I smile at Sebastian, who beams at me.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he says, winking at me. “I-”

Except he’s interrupted by Grant, who’s finally gotten off his phone and wandered over, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he’s cutting into the middle of a conversation.

I did say he was
relatively
civil - for a billionaire.

“Well, Sebastian, Paige, uh, Mrs. Lytton, lovely party, got to run though, have a bit of a business emergency to deal with. But before I go, Sebastian, I just wanted to ask you who one of your guests is, she looks kind of familiar, but she keeps wandering out of reach whenever I try to approach her.”

“Is she anywhere in sight?”

“Over there, in the corner,” he says, tilting his head to the left, in the direction of none other than Ashley, who’s talking to someone else. “I think that kid’s hers.”

Sebastian and I exchange glances.

“That’s Ashley,” he says. “Ashley Taylor.”

Grant furrows his brow slightly, as though trying to remember something.

“Ashley? I once knew an Ashley. Well, quite a few Ashleys over the years, actually, but I did once know an Ashley who looked remarkably like her. You know, it’s such a shame I have to go now, but” - he pulls out a business card from his pocket - “do me a favor, Sebastian, give her my card and tell her to call me, will you?”

BOOK: A Dance for Him
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