"Seb," she said and edged away from the people he a.s.sumed were colleagues. "What are you doing here?"

A very good question. "I was pa.s.sing," he said. "Thought Id drop in. Say hi. And congratulations."

"Right," she said with a nod. "I see." But it was clear she didnt, and he couldnt really blame her. "Well, thank you."

"Youre welcome."

There was a beat of strangely awkward silence. "So are you staying for the dinner?" she asked, not looking entirely happy about the thought of it.

Which was fine with him. An evening of excruciating small talk while trying to pretend he didnt want to pull her to the floor and ravish her was not his idea of pleasant. "No," he said. "Like I said I was just pa.s.sing. I have plans for later."

"Oh?"

Seb ignored the question in her voice because how could he expand on non-existent plans? "You look lovely," he said instead, raking his gaze over her and feeling a sort of hunger sweep through him.

"Thank you," she said, sounding a bit breathless.

"How was Sat.u.r.day?"

Mercy blinked, as if coming to. "Sat.u.r.day?"

"Your night out."

"Oh, right. That. It was fun. There were ten of us in the end. We went for drinks, then dinner, then dancing."

"Late night?"

She nodded. "Very. I went home at about four."

At which time hed still been tossing and turning and wondering what she was doing. "Alone?"

Mercy stared at him for a second as his idiotic question sank in. "No, Seb," she said a touch tartly. "I picked up three guys at the last nightclub we went to and took them back to my place. Of course I went home alone."

He frowned and whipped his hands out of his pockets to shove them through his hair. "I deserved that," he said gruffly. "Im sorry."

Sighing a little, Mercy leaned in closer, turning her back on her colleagues, and lowered her voice. "Whats this all about, Seb?"

b.l.o.o.d.y good question. "I missed you."

Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. "You missed me?"

d.a.m.n. He hadnt meant it like that. "I mean, I missed the s.e.x," he amended because, of course, that was what had been driving him mad s.e.xual frustration. Obvious, now he thought about it.

"So youre here for what? A mid-week booty call?" she said, her tone even chillier than it had been a second ago.

"No," he said swiftly. "Thats not it at all." Although if she dragged him behind the stand and decided to have her way with him, hed probably not put up much resistance.

"Then what?"

How could he explain it? He didnt even understand it himself. But he had to say something. And something that wouldnt make him look like a completely smitten fool, which he very definitely wasnt. "I came to tell you that Ive made a recommendation for you to be added to the Foundations list of preferred suppliers," he said, as inspiration suddenly struck. "For this wine." He nodded over her shoulder, the sweep of his gaze encompa.s.sing the stand. "Possibly others. I thought youd like to know sooner rather than later." As, no doubt, would the people at the Foundation who were in charge of that sort of thing, which would mean a delicate phone call in the morning.

Mercy stared at him. "Really?" she said, sounding a bit sh.e.l.l-shocked.

"Really."

She flashed him a sudden smile and for a moment he felt blinded. "Well, thats great."

"I thought youd be pleased."

"Im thrilled." Then her smile faltered and she frowned. "But isnt there a, ah, conflict of interest?"

He had no idea. Thered better not be. "I dont believe so. I simply made the recommendation. Whether or not youre actually added to the list depends on what they think of the wines."

"Then thank you."

"Youre welcome."

And that had to be that as conversation went, thought Seb, taking a step back and feeling like he could breathe again. His mouth was writing checks that were tricky to cash and he had to get out of here before it did it again.

"Right," he said with a brusque nod and a tight smile. "Well. Thats all I came to say. Id better be off. Ill see you on Sat.u.r.day. Noon. My place."

And with that, he shoved his hands back into his pockets, spun on his heel and stalked off.

Chapter Eight.

The Sunday morning after the presentation dinner Mercy was lying in Sebs bed while he slumbered on beside her, staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep even though it was four am and hed done a very thorough job of wearing her out.

Something was up, was the thought rolling around her head as if on a continuous loop. Something was very definitely up. Shed arrived here on the dot of noon yesterday, ready to tell Seb all about the call shed had with the man from the Foundation and to share her excitement that they were prepared to take on three of her wines, but before shed managed to get a word out hed hauled her into his arms, kissed her until her head had swum and shed been putty in his hands and, as usual, that had been that. Theyd wound up in bed and here theyd remained.

But no amount of s.e.x however distracting could hide the fact that Seb seemed to be on edge. He hadnt smiled once since shed been here. Hed barely said a word. Hed been darkly intense, all smoldering and glowering. And while it had given the s.e.x a sort of dangerous quality that had been so spine-tinglingly delicious she couldnt really complain, she couldnt work out the reason for it. Had she done something? Had he? Did it have anything to do with Wednesday night, which had been, well, weird?

She oughtnt to want to know and she oughtnt to care but she did because the breathing s.p.a.ce and the perspective shed thought shed get by not seeing Seb last weekend hadnt materialized. Instead shed missed him. A lot. And had thought about him even more than she usually did, which meant that far from disengaging herself as shed hoped, she was possibly getting even more entangled, and that was another thing that was keeping her awake because short of ending their affair which did not appeal in the slightest, she didnt have a clue what to do about it.

Agh. This was all driving her nuts. Seb. Her. The way her responses to her check-list seemed to be shifting... Her head was throbbing and her body was restless. Sleep obviously wasnt going to happen. Peace of mind clearly wasnt an option. She was going to have to go for a walk.

Seb woke up with a start and a hard-on, and unfortunately, he discovered when he reached for Mercy and found he was grabbing at air, nowhere to put it.

He jackknifed up and looked round, an odd stab of panic shooting through him. Where was she? Had she gone home? It wouldnt have surprised him if she had. He hadnt exactly been charm personified this weekend, although that was hardly the shock of the century.

He couldnt understand himself lately. He was permanently on edge. Permanently bewildered. And he didnt like it any more than he liked his behavior on Wednesday night.

Turning up at that reception had been an epic mistake, he reflected grimly as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. Hed been a complete and utter idiot to have gone. Heaven only knew what Mercy had thought of his appearance, although there was no way in h.e.l.l he was going to ask. She might tell him, and then hed have to try and explain the inexplicable which would make him sound like even more of a fool.

But perhaps he ought to give himself a break, he thought, relaxing somewhat when he noticed Mercys watch still lying on the bedside table and realized she must be around somewhere. Perhaps he ought to just write it off and forget about it and stop beating himself up so badly. So hed experienced a moment of weakness, a tiny lapse of control. It wasnt as if it was going to happen again.

And it wasnt Mercys fault, even though shed borne the brunt of his filthy mood this weekend. He really ought to go and find her and apologize. Perhaps hed entice her back to bed and set about making it up to her. And if he could manage to lose himself in her, if he could somehow stop the sickening feeling he had that everything around him was about unravel, then so much the better.

Ten minutes later, during which hed pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and then prowled round the darkly silent house with increasing impatience, Seb found her.

She was standing at the door to the bas.e.m.e.nt, wrapped in his dressing gown, one hand on the handle, the other clamping her cell to her ear, and as all thoughts of apologizing vaporized, he didnt know which to react to first until she laughed softly, throatily, s.e.xily, and then it couldnt have been more b.l.o.o.d.y obvious.

Who the h.e.l.l was she purring down the line to at this hour of the night?

"Stop it, Raf Quartermaine, really," she murmured, and he thought, Raf? Who was this Raf? And what did he want with her? "Oh, you are wicked."

What the h.e.l.l? His hands balled into fists although what he was going to do with those he had no idea.

Silence, while she listened for a moment, then, "Well, how about this for an idea? I have a friend who has a pub here in New York... No, its in Brooklyn but its great, just your sort of place. Faithll take your lagers. Im sure she will. Sh.e.l.l hear your pitch, at least. Want me to put you in touch?... OK, I wont mention it just yet. You let me know when it suits."

Seb felt the tension gripping every muscle he possessed ease a little. OK. So. Business. But still. At a quarter past four in the morning?

Mercy stopped. Nodded. "Will do," she murmured and laughed once more before hanging up.

Shed never laughed like that with him. Not that hed noticed. And not that he gave a d.a.m.n who this wicked, beer-flogging Raf who made her laugh was.

"Who was that?"

s.h.i.t.

Giving a little shriek, Mercy whirled round, clutching at the robe, her eyes wide. "What the ? Jesus, Seb, you scared me half to death."

"My apologies."

"That was just an old friend."

How old, he wanted to know. And an old friend? Or old friend? "An old friend with insomnia?"

"Raf lives in Australia. Sydney. Its this evening there. Summer. And hot, apparently." She stashed her cell in the pocket of her robe and looked at him closely. "Are you all right? You look a little, I dont know, unhinged. And youve been acting all weird ever since I got here."

No, he wasnt all right. And he wouldnt be until she was back upstairs and in his bed.

"What are you doing down here?" he growled, eyeing her warily because she was dangerously close to the door to the bas.e.m.e.nt and she was not going down there.

"I couldnt sleep."

"So you decided to go walkabout?" And what, now he was Australian?

"Yes. That a problem?"

"You should have asked."

She rose her eyebrows. "Why? Would you have offered me a tour?"

No. Their arrangement didnt include tours. "Would you have wanted one?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because Ive been in this house maybe half a dozen times and Ive seen, what, a third of it? Im curious. Zel told me once that it was built by a champagne magnate. I figure it must have the most beautifully designed cellar."

Yes, well, it did, but there was no way in h.e.l.l she was going to find that out. "Where else have you been?"

"Everywhere."

"Outside?"

"I did take a quick look at your roof terrace if thats what youre asking." It was. And he didnt like it. That s.p.a.ce was private. "I had no idea it was there," she added. "Its beautiful. Peaceful. Especially in the moonlight. If kind of chilly. Roses?"

"Yes."

"All yours?"

He nodded. "All mine."

"I imagine the display must be stunning."

"It is." When he wasnt taking his shears to them like a madman.

"Why roses?"

"I like them. My mother liked them. Our house in London had a rose garden. Shed take cuttings from here and replant them over there. She spent a lot of time on them."

"Ah," said Mercy with a slow nod and a warmth that made her eyes shine and meant who knew what. "Well, after that," she continued, "I took each storey as it came. Obviously your floor didnt need much exploring and I didnt go into the staff wing or Zels apartment, but the five storeys I have checked out are impressive."

"They are."

"Did you know Zel calls this the Madison Mausoleum?"

"It is pretty dark and gloomy."

"Do you like it?"

He shrugged. "Its home."