Untaming Lily Wilde (5 page)

“Oh.”
God, why do I keep saying that. I’m like some kind of moron.

“The parties get old after a while, believe me. And it's been a
long
while. If I keep behaving like this I'll just end up jaded.”

Lily floundered, unsure of how to respond to Seb’s openness. They weren’t on an equal footing here, no matter which way you spun it, and she seriously wanted to avoid over-stepping the mark. She pretended to be distracted by the task at hand, arranging the drapes ready to hang, and trying to remember to breathe.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said.

Lily refused to be drawn into this.

“I’m thinking we’re running behind schedule.”

“You’re blushing, Miss Wilde. Does it shock you?” He pushed.

Lily folded her arms and turned to face him. “Does it
shock
me? Which bit?” Somehow her tension was slipping into irritation.

“All of it, I guess. What we do. Or in my case - did.” It was Seb’s turn to feign distraction. He took a tobacco packet from his jeans pocket and began rolling. “I want to know what you make of it all.”

Why?! Why does he want to know. He’s enjoying this - watching me squirm.

Lily tried and failed to curtail her anger. “Look, Lord Harper. Seb. Whatever. What you do is up to you. I don’t know what that is exactly, and
yes
I find the idea of sex with strangers shocking - well no, not shocking- challenging. It's not my thing. I’m not saying it’s wrong, and I’m not judging. But I literally can’t talk to you about it- not because I’m uptight, or embarrassed- but because I signed a thirty-two page confidentiality agreement stating that I’m categorically not allowed to ask anything. So don't treat me like some virginal little flower you can prod and tease. I'm not playing that game, OK.”

Lily's lack of control unnerved her. She was overreacting and she knew it, but it was too late. The words had spilled out of their own accord and there was no taking them back, though she was inclined to try.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t entirely fair.” She was pleased she'd added the entirely. Some of what she'd said was more than fair.

Seb frowned.

“No, you're right. I should know better. I don't think of you as a - what was it? A virginal flower?"

"Uh-huh. That just kind of - slipped out…"
Please ground, swallow me.

"And I've already expressly asked you to please call me Seb. Lord Harper sounds awful and I rarely go by ‘
whatever’

these days.”

The beginnings of a smile pulled at Lily's lips, and she couldn’t help but wonder what it was about this man that she should feel one emotion one minute, and an entirely different one the next.

"So shall we start again?" Seb asked, continuing before Lily could respond. "I'm Seb. I take my tea white and my coffee black. I hate cooking, love eating. Interests include climbing, trekking, photography… I can't sing and my dancing is questionable. What else - I've always had money, so I've never had to struggle. I'm extremely spoilt, but openly ashamed of it. I hate techno, fake tans and James Bond. Your turn." He smiled, and tucked a cigarette behind his left ear.

"OK, fine. Hi Seb, I'm Lily. Not Miss Wilde, and only Lilian to dad. I’m an only child; which seems like a weird thing to say when you’re twenty-six, but you know what I mean. I don't drink tea, just coffee. I cook a bit, but nothing that takes more than half an hour... I've always lived in London... That enough? I'm struggling here..."

"It's a start," Seb conceded. "Of course I already know a bit about you."

What on earth?
It took a moment for Lily to grasp what he meant. "Oh, right. The vetting."

"The vetting,” he agreed. “You didn't mention the journalism."

"No,” she said. Where was he going with this? “The journalism’s on hold.”

"Because?" He asked.

What was this? Why did she feel as though she were on trial?

"Because, right now, I need a steady pay cheque."

"Ah. Well, that's a real shame." Seb grabbed a drape, and climbed onto a chair. “Here, you pass the pins, and I’ll hang these.”

OK, she thought.
No trial. Just my paranoia.

Lily obliged him, and for a while they were a studious team. They had a system; sorting, pinning, hanging, moving through the rooms swiftly and efficiently.

"The journalism thing freaked Ana out, you know. She took some convincing before she agreed to have you here," Seb admitted, at last.

And there it was. The journalism
was
an issue. Did they know that her biggest job so far had been an opinion piece on bikini waxes? She suspected not.

"Why? She thinks I'll sell your secrets?"

"It did come up."

Lily shook her head. The idea was ridiculous. There was no way in hell she’d try to make any kind of story out of this situation. It just wasn’t in her nature. She wondered if she’d need to be on the defensive with Ana. She was already dreading meeting her.

She sighed. "You know, three years ago, my upstairs neighbour, Stephan - who for your information I can't stand - started dating a very well known TV chef. This chef - let's call her Miss X - had been trying to get pregnant with her husband - no joy. But then all of a sudden she's announcing her pregnancy, and breaks it off with Stephan. Now
that
would have been a good story. Only one problem."

"And what's that?" Seb sounded like he already knew the answer.

"The problem is, I'm not
that
kind of journalist. That's gossip, not news. I don't care if it's a money spinner. I'd rather be poor than cheap," she said, hoping she didn’t sound too pissy. She
felt
pissy. She just didn’t want to
sound
it.

Seb nodded. It was as though he could hear a subtext in her words that even she wasn’t aware of. "Anyhow,” he said, “Ana wants to meet you."

"Which is why we're in the West Wing when she's in the East?" Quizzed Lily.

Seb laughed, but said nothing. When the last of the chiffon had been pinned in the West Wing, they collected more, and headed towards the East.

They were intersected half way by the half-naked Grayson, six foot two inches of smooth-muscled masculinity, draped in swathes of Ivy.

He looped an arm around Lily's waist and drew her to him, whispering in pseudo-hushed tones, "He's married you know. Watch you don't fall for his upstanding-English-gentleman routine." He sent Seb a sly look; ever the joker. “No, what you need, Lily Wilde, is a
free
man. Someone untied-down, to lead you down the path of wickedness. ”

Seb shook his head just a fraction. His eyes seemed to darken. Was he warning Grayson to back off?

“And why would I want to be led down that path exactly?” said Lily.

“Because, everybody does. Isn’t that right, Seb? When it comes down to it. When we’re honest. We all just want to enjoy ourselves, uninhibited by our commitments.”

“Right. Sure we do.” Lily had the distinct impression that these two towering gods were warring over an agenda that had absolutely nothing to do with her. “You know what, I really need to get this done so…”

“So I’ll introduce you to Ana and she’ll help you. Seb, Cayley’s wants a word with you. She’s by the altar. Have fun.”

Seb moved in close to Grayson, so Lily could barely hear him. However, the words, “Don’t push me,” had been clear enough.

For a long moment the men glared at each other like stags, gearing up to lock antlers.

Then, Grayson broke the silence.

"Hey," he said, "Lighten up, Sebby boy, we've got company."

He led a very confused Lily, into the East Wing, only mildly abashed what had just happened.

"Sorry to do that in front of you,” he said. “It's just, well, Ana's a great girl. Any man would be seriously lucky to have her. They've been married all of five years and he’s already talking like he wants out. He's my best friend - don’t get me wrong - but he's behaving like a selfish prick. I know we're kind of alternative in our lifestyle choices, but in my mind marriage is marriage. You know?"

Lily nodded. Finally some kind of explanation. Grayson had confirmed all her worst suspicions. Seb was as bad as Tom. Worse. After all he was married.
So much for ‘til death us do part’.

Grayson stopped in his tracks and looked at Lily, placing a his hands gently on her shoulders. "I'm only telling you this so you know the full story. If you choose to get involved then that's your look-out but you deserve to know the facts."

I do? Huh?!
"Get involved? I… I honestly doubt he even
wants
to
get involved
. But either way, don't worry, that's never going to happen.” Lily meant it. No way was she getting tangled up in some ego-massaging little fling. She wanted to have some fun this year - sure - but as someone’s bit-on-the-side? No, that really wasn’t what she’d had in mind.

Grayson gave her a sweet, sexy half-smile and nodded. “Well, then I think you and I are gonna get on.”

“Anyway,” she went on, “What makes you so sure I'm single? I could be a married woman with six kids for all you know."

"Except, you're not are you." It was Ana. Radiant, olive skinned and petite, with thick dark lashes and deep chestnut hair. She moved like a lithe little gazelle, gracefully leaning in to kiss Lily on both cheeks. Her Spanish accent exaggerated the emotion in her voice, as she introduced herself, "I'm Ana. I'm
so
pleased to meet you. Seb told me how beautiful you are, and I can see he's quite right."

Lily was totally speechless. She opened her mouth hoping words would come. They didn’t. She closed it again, fairly confident this little scenario would feature in her top ten most socially effing awkward moments ever. Ana reached forward and gentry tucked a tendril of auburn hair behind Lily’s ear.

"I’m making you uncomfortable,” she said. “When I meet someone new I get nervous and then I just say whatever springs into my head, do I not, Grayson? I don’t mean to put you in - how do you say - a tight spot. Of course, it must seem so strange, that I can openly talk about my husband’s attractions. It’s not something that pleases me, but I don’t hold
you
responsible. And don't feel sorry for me. I've known for a long that I'm not enough for him."

"I... I'm sorry. That's just terrible." Lily regretted every ounce of attraction she’d had for Seb Harper.

“I knew you would understand. After what happened to you. Men can be selfish creatures, no?”

Lily was suddenly brought up short. “What do you… You mean - you know about Tom?”

Ana drummed her palm against her forehead. “See! Stupid Ana. Chatter chat chat - I need to start using my brain before I say these things. But yes, I know about him,” she said, then added, “It must seem very intrusive, our vetting process, but it has proved useful in the past. To be honest, we mostly just use social networking sites. There's nothing
underhand
involved, but you'd be surprised how much information is available.”

“Information about my break up?”

Ana looked awkwardly from Grayson to Lily, “Well, your friends talk. It’s all well meant. Not
gossip,
you understand. But it doesn't take much to piece together all the little comments and see a clearer picture. It's how I knew I could trust you with Seb. No one in your position would want to break up a marriage. You must so loathe that girl, Celia."

Lily clapped a hand to her mouth.
Celia?
But Celia was Emma's little cousin. She was - what-eighteen now? Nineteen at the most. She'd been in a lot of trouble the last couple of years, in fact, on a couple of occasions she'd ended up crashing on Lily and Tom's couch. Lily felt nauseous.

"Celia
James
?" This was all making horrible sense.

Ana gasped, "Oh hell - you didn't know?! Lily, I am so, so sorry.”

Lily felt breathless. “Can I… Do you mind if I sit down a minute?”

Ana led her to the first of many bed chambers which filled the East Wing and gestured to a small leather armchair. Lily sank down into it and focused on trying to get the room to stop spinning.

Grayson crouched in front of her. “Listen honey, I’m gonna go right ahead and pour you a drink - no arguments - so what’s it to be - we’ve got everything - including tea if you want to be ultra-English.”

“It’s fine,” Lily started to say, then changed her mind. “Actually, yeah, thank you, but just water please.”

“You’re sure? I do a mean rum cocktail?”

Lily laughed despite the ache in her chest. “Thanks, but no.”

“Another time then. One water coming up.”

Ana held Lily's hand. "Were you together for a long time?"

"Eight years."

"You poor thing. Your longest relationship? You're still young after all?"

"My only relationship," sniffed Lily. "I was so shy before going to uni, and we got together in my first year so - yeah. He was my only lover. Pathetic huh?"
Why am I telling you this,
Lily wondered
. Haven’t I embarrassed myself enough already?