Bound to Be a Groom (6 page)

“Did I say her name?” Anna asked between gulps, once the racking tears had begun to subside.

Sebastian seemed almost amused, as if her torment were a mere trifle. “Yes. Quite lovely, really. Something for me to hope for one day.”

“To hope for? Why?” Anna asked, wiping the damnable tears from her cheeks.

“Why, to hear my name on your lips with the same delirious abandon and satisfaction, of course.”

“You’re not angry?” She patted her face one last time with his handkerchief and then stared down at the beautiful needlework at the edge of the elegant linen, sewing with which she was so familiar. Hours and hours of her young life had been spent making perfect hems exactly like this one.

“Angry?” He pulled her chin up so she was forced to look in his eyes. “I meant what I said earlier, you beautiful girl. It wasn’t only the physical acts . . .”

Her face flushed in brief embarrassment. Had she really done all those things to him—with such fervor—and let him do all those things to her in return? Pia often said Anna took on a feverish intensity when they were making love, almost out of her head.

He continued carefully. “I want to give myself to you, Anna. I want you.”

She shivered at the seriousness of his tone. A lifetime of preparing to be subjected to men made it difficult to understand his words. When he said
I want you
, she heard
I want to own you
, as if he wanted to acquire her. Which could never happen, not if she were ever to be free of the shackles of all men. Without intending to, she stiffened in his arms. She was too confused. Everything was happening out of order. She needed to see Pia again. They needed to discuss their plans in more detail. She needed more time before she went to Madrid. These things were supposed to happen over time. She was supposed to become someone’s mistress, nothing more. She felt the panic spread like a creeping mold in a damp cellar. Sebastian had the look of someone who wanted far more.

She spoke carefully, in an attempt to stem the slow, tormenting terror rising up from her gut. She had betrayed Pia. She had betrayed herself. “I know I was terribly wanton, but nothing can come of it—”

He pressed one finger against her lips, and it stilled her thoughts as well as her words. He set her slightly away from him so she was sitting on the couch. He knelt down in front of her, on one knee. She was appalled but did not have any idea how to stop what was clearly about to happen. If there were some way to claw herself out of her own skin, she would have tried it. Surely the man was not willing to offer anything more than an arrangement.
Which
, some part of her rational mind scrambled,
might be a workable solution
. Her thoughts scurried around like little mice, frantic.
Pia, what am I to do?

He took her hand in his.

Surely . . . not.

“No,” she whispered, covering her mouth with the handkerchief clenched in her free hand and widening her eyes in anticipation.

“My dearest Anna, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

“Your
wife
?” she blurted. Even to her own ears she sounded shrill and shrewish.

His face softened. “Yes, Anna.
My wife
. Or would you rather be my mistress?” His smile made it perfectly clear he considered that last bit an absurdity, as if
any
woman in all of Europe—or in all the world, for that matter—would rather be Sebastian de Montizon’s mistress instead of his lawfully wedded wife with all the wealth and prestige the title conferred.

Her heart pounded.
Think, think, think
. “I need to think. It’s all so . . . unexpected.”

“Really? Did you not expect to marry
ever
? Or did you not expect to marry
me
?”

“We’ve only just met. We’re practically strangers. We
are
strangers.”

Sebastian stood up from his kneeling position and pulled at the pristine white edge of his shirt cuff, where it peeked out from his expensive green coat. “Really, Anna,” he practically clucked. He looked down at her, letting his eyes slide over the length of her body, then his tongue swept across his upper lip in greedy memory. “I can still taste you. We are far from strangers. In fact, I would venture to say we are intimately acquainted.”

She jumped up from her inferior position on the couch and put her hands on her hips. She needed to collect herself. He kept smiling down at her.
Why was he so damned tall?
She spied a footrest near where he was standing and stepped onto it. Now they were at eye level, which only seemed to amuse Sebastian further. His smile widened as he rested one elbow on the mantelpiece with casual confidence.

Anna almost growled at his arrogance. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what? Like I adore you? I don’t think I’ll ever be able to wipe that expression from my face. And why should I?”

“Oh! You are so entirely accustomed to getting your own way, aren’t you?”

“Hmm. An attribute we have in common, perhaps?”

She fisted her hands at her waist.

“Are you going to take a swing at me for proposing matrimony?” he asked, that twinkle in his eye letting her know he wouldn’t be entirely opposed to the idea.

“I should, you know. You’re so impertinent. You deserve a good spanking, is what you deserve.”

His nostrils flared, and his eyes widened. “You cannot imagine how the thought delights me.”

“Sebastian!” She tried to sound stern, but his fervor was contagious and her exasperation was tinged with humor.

“Yes?” He was soft again, reaching out to touch a piece of the lacy fabric near her wrist.

Anna sighed. He was entirely too adorable. Emboldened by her silence, he started tracing his finger along the sensitive skin of her wrist. If he was even half as smitten as he claimed to be, maybe she could negotiate after all. She had to think clearly. She had to think of Pia.

“What do I stand to gain from this proposal?” she asked, as if she were haggling with the milliner in Burgos.

He reared back his head and laughed in that all-encompassing way of his. “You are spectacular, you know that? Other than my splendid self, of course, there will be travels and adventures and riches beyond your imagining.”

“Be careful what you promise,” she warned. “I suspect there’s not much beyond my imagining.”

He smiled and held her hand tighter. “I will soon be a very wealthy man—I don’t mean it in a boastful or crass way. I only say it to let you know that whatever you wish for will be within my grasp to provide.”

She contemplated his words in all their meaning. “But, sweet Sebastian, what if I wish for freedom?”

“Then you shall have it,” he answered without hesitation. “As my wife, you may enjoy any liberty you wish.”

She lowered her eyes and stared at their joined hands. “And what if I wish for Pia?”

He leaned down with a gallant flourish to kiss the back of her hand, then stood up tall and proud. “If that is the case—”

Before Sebastian had a chance to finish, the door to the library swung open under the weight of two entwined lovers. Anna nearly burst out laughing when the newlyweds tumbled into the room and the door slammed shut behind them.

“At last—” Javi gasped before covering Isabella’s mouth with his own. She caught sight of Anna and Sebastian across the room and groaned, trying to push him away, but he pulled her harder against him, apparently mistaking her sounds of resistance for an attempt to stoke his passion.

“Javi!” She finally wrenched herself away and slapped him across the face, presumably to douse his enthusiasm.

His eyes gleamed dark and seductive at the provocation. “Ah, Isabella—” He put his hand on his cheek as if he wanted to relive the sting of her flesh against his. “My fiery wife, you will be punished for that—”

She fisted her hands on her hips. “Javi, we are not alone!”

He turned quickly, letting his hand drop from his face. “Sebastian. What the hell are you doing in here?”

Anna admired the defiant set of Sebastian’s shoulders.

“I am in the midst of proposing marriage to Anna Redondo, if you must know.” He stepped aside to reveal her—standing on the silly step stool next to the fireplace where she had been partially concealed behind his broad back.

Anna stepped down and tried to repress a sigh at the incoming explosion that was Isabella. Her friend had grabbed bunches of her white lace wedding gown and was running across the library. She halted at the turn of the sofa to stare at Anna with a theatrical gasp.

“Anna! What in the world— Where is Sister Elvira? Why are you unchaperoned? How long have you known Sebastian? Why did you not tell me of your affection?” Anna watched as Isabella turned her irritated confusion on Sebastian, stomping one foot for effect. “What have you done to her? She looks like she’s been crying!” Dramatically dropping the fabric of her gown, Isabella grabbed Anna’s hands in hers. “Are you unwell? Did he hurt you?”

Anna’s face felt hot and mottled. She probably looked a fright. How to answer such a question . . . Had he raised her to the heights of physical pleasure? Had he made a mockery of her promises to Pia? And then, perhaps, offered her a chance at a new and beautiful future? Yes. And yes. And yes.

But she could not get any words out. He had never—he would never—
hurt
her.

“Anna!” Isabella pulled her into a protective one-armed hug and turned to glare at Sebastian, then barked, “How could you? I thought you were a gentleman!”

Sebastian looked affronted. Justifiably so. She tried to wrest herself away from the temporary comfort of her friend’s embrace, but Isabella only tightened her grip.

“I?” he cried, pointing at his chest. “I have offered for her! I am Sebastian de Montizon and she is a convent girl of questionable parentage—”

“How dare you!” Isabella finally released Anna and took a step closer to Sebastian, her rigid posture mimicking his. She pulled her fist back to take a swing at him, but Javi’s strong fingers caught her wrist an instant before she made contact.

Javi had kept quiet until now—always stealthy whether he was skulking around the forest or reposing in a ducal library. Perhaps unwisely, he tried to intercede. “Darling . . .”

Isabella wrenched her hand from his. “Don’t call me
darling
! Call him out! He has insulted my dear friend.”

Javi started laughing. “He has offered to
marry
her, my love. How can I possibly call him out for doing what is right and honorable?”

“Honorable? Look at her.” Isabella pointed at Anna as if she were something battered and worn that had been tossed onto the docks in Aveiro. “She has obviously been . . . taken advantage of.”

Javi’s face stormed. “Sebastian . . . did you—”

Now it was Sebastian’s turn to become infuriated. “Javi. How dare you?” He pointed in Anna’s direction. “She—”

Anna finally spoke up, resting one hand on Sebastian’s forearm to stay him. “Please, all of you.” She gave Isabella an exasperated look. “Do stop speaking about me as if I am a parcel.”

The other three stood still and said nothing.

“Very well,” Anna said on a sigh. It wasn’t how she had planned it, but it certainly wasn’t the worst possible outcome. Perhaps Sebastian would let her visit Pia occasionally. Perhaps in time, something could be arranged.
Perhaps
. It was a thin hope, but it was all Anna had.

Sebastian smiled as if he were reading her thoughts. He wanted to please her, or so he’d said. She looked at him a moment longer, then nodded. “I accept.”

Sebastian pulled her into a gleeful embrace, lifting her small frame off the ground and twirling her once around before setting her back in place. Javi and Isabella wore nearly identical expressions of complete shock.

Isabella spoke first. “You? Anna— You what?”

Anna looked away from Sebastian and those victorious, possessive eyes of his. His happiness was so exuberant as to be almost terrifying. “I accepted his offer.”

“But,” Isabella said, “it’s only Javi and myself. No one need know of your indiscretion if you do not wish it.”

Sebastian growled at the implication.

Isabella growled in return. “What? You cannot simply marry her because you’ve . . .” Her voice trailed off.

He smirked and put his arm around Anna’s small waist, tucking her closer into him. “Because I’ve
what
, Isabella?” he challenged. “I’m sure you’re not about to imply anything improper about my fiancée, otherwise I’d have to call
you
out.”

Javi was obviously torn between years of loyalty to his best friend and his newfound, but no less compelling, loyalty to his wife. He reached his arm around Isabella’s waist. Anna suspected he was not sure what else to do.

“Y-y-you’ve . . .” Isabella stammered, then furrowed her brows and turned her gaze to Anna. She lowered her voice, and Anna recognized the familiar inner battle of Isabella attempting to master her temper. “Are you sure, Anna? Is this truly what you want?”

Anna stood up straighter and realized this part, this new role, had to begin now. She pulled her shoulders back and leaned more easily into Sebastian. She looked up at him one last time. He would never hurt her, not intentionally. He was playful and kind. She would be the wife of an aristocrat, maybe one day able to wield enough power to reclaim the woman she loved. She smiled at the idea, and he smiled back, as if reading the direction of her thought and not finding it appalling.