"We have all night," he murmured, sliding a teasing finger inside her. "And I'm going to enjoy every second."
Her desire rose so fast, she couldn't wait. It wasn't enough that he pleasured her. She needed to feel his body connected to hers, completely-inside her, filling her, riding the wave with her.
"Now," she whispered. "I want it all now."
He kissed her hard, consuming her for all-too-brief seconds. "I love it when you're greedy." He arched, retrieved the protection. They hadn't even fully removed the robes, the soft terry caressing her skin along with all his hard muscles.
Then he gave her what she wanted, what she craved, filling her deeply.
And nothing else mattered, not the money, not the things they'd said. There was just this-his beautiful touch, his loving murmurs, and then his mouth on hers as they touched the sky together.
* * *
Sebastian relished every single second with Charlie spooned into his body, her breathing gentle and even. The moment was made even more sublime because he'd almost ruined everything, coming close to losing her by doing the most asinine thing imaginable-talking about money after they'd made love for the first time.
He should have heeded Susan's warning not to push, especially with an independent woman like Charlie...
It was just that making love seemed to tear down all the barriers between them. He couldn't hold back his desire to do everything possible to make her happy and to care for her mother. No formal promises had been made, but they already felt like his family. He had no expectations and wanted no payback for anything he did, and he'd believed Charlie would finally understand that he wanted to help because she meant everything to him.
But he'd proven he was as big an idiot when it came to love as any fool had ever been. All night long he'd wanted to say the words, wanted her to know he was crazy in love with her. But he'd been afraid she'd see it as just another ploy to get his way.
I love you, Charlie.
Soon. He'd tell her soon.
And hopefully, he prayed as he pulled her closer in the dark, breathing in her scent, she'd fall in love with him too.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The weekend with Sebastian had been beautiful. If she closed her eyes, Charlie could still almost feel his touch on her skin, and his scent seemed to linger all over her body. When she breathed, she breathed in Sebastian.
But then there was real life, and the Monday after the gala was not only moving day for Charlie's mother, but Sebastian had also arranged for a new doctor to meet with her. Charlie was thrilled her mother would finally live in a nice home with a garden again, but she was more than a little worried about Sebastian. If his hopes for her mother's health were smashed, would he take it as badly as he had his failure to help his own parents?
Dr. Bengali had kind brown eyes and dark skin that showed nary a wrinkle. In his mid-thirties, he was an eminent surgeon who specialized in ankles. Sebastian had researched the man's career, and though he was relatively young, he was considered brilliant in his field. It still blew Charlie away that Sebastian could convince these prominent surgeons to make house calls. Despite her doubts that anything could be done, she still couldn't help the whisper of an internal mantra: Please help her. Please.
First, the doctor observed her mother's ability to walk. Then, since Charlie was still packing two suitcases and a garment bag for the move, they'd convened in her mother's room. Sebastian leaned against the wall a few feet away while her mother sat in her reading chair as the doctor studied her ankles. Gently, Dr. Bengali removed both her shoes and the braces, then delicately turned each ankle in his long fingers to check her range of motion and pain level with every movement. He palpated and squeezed the flesh, carefully examining right down to the toes.
Finally he rose to sit on the edge of the bed. Sebastian had remained quiet, but, just as with Dr. Hillman, his tension was like a live wire pulsing in the room.
"I've looked at your X-rays, Mrs. Ballard, and I want you to know that you've had a very good surgeon. I couldn't have done better by you. I agree with your doctor's instructions to keep walking. All in all, you're doing extremely well."
"Thank you, Doctor." Her mother smiled like a ray of sunshine.
"There's nothing more you can do for her ankles?" Sebastian asked. To anyone else, he might have sounded completely normal, but to Charlie, his words seemed to be strained through too-tight vocal cords. She'd kissed his throat, touched almost every centimeter of skin, felt his hard muscles against her, and she knew, even if no one else could even sense it, that his sense of powerlessness hurt him core-deep. Yet she could do nothing for him.
Dr. Bengali turned to him. "Mrs. Ballard's arthritis is severely degenerative. Essentially she has virtually no ankle bones left. Her surgeon has done extensive reconstruction, but I'm still surprised and pleased with how well she walks." He turned back to her mother, then reached for her hand and squeezed it. "You're a remarkable woman. For most people at your stage, walking a mile every day is impossible."
Her mother punched the air like a teenager. "No pain, no gain."
"I agree that Francine is one of the most amazing people I've had the privilege of calling my friend," Sebastian said. "But is there something we can do about her pain level, at the very least?"
"We could send her to a pain clinic, but the narcotics are highly addictive, and over time she would build up a tolerance."
Charlie tried to keep her heart intact as she folded her mother's cotton nightgowns into the case. They'd heard it all before. Yet it still hurt to hear once again that there was nothing more they could do. She glanced at Sebastian, whose face was like granite, and that made the ache so much worse.
"I don't want to start any more meds." Her mother was calm yet firm. "Evie down the hall takes that stuff and though it doesn't do much for her pain anymore, she can't go without it. It's terrible to watch when she tries to wean herself off it. That's not for me."
Dr. Bengali stood. "As I said, ma'am, you are a remarkable woman. I thank you for the opportunity to examine you and wish I had better news."
"Thank you for coming to see me, Dr. Bengali." Charlie's mother held out her crippled hands, and he leaned over to take them in his long, firm, nimble surgeon's fingers. "You're a very nice young man."
He smiled, his teeth gleaming white in the sun falling through the blinds. "You're too kind."
After Charlie shook his hand and thanked him, Sebastian stepped forward. Despite how carefully Sebastian was working to hide his frustration, Charlie felt his pain as much as her mother's, his emotion palpable, his anger undulating tangibly around him. And beneath all of it lay a helplessness that Charlie would give the world to erase, just as she would have given everything she had to take away her mother's pain.
Still, Sebastian took Dr. Bengali's hand in his with a firm shake. "Thank you for answering our call. If you learn of any new techniques, medications, or methods, please let us know."
"Certainly."
The regal man left, and Sebastian turned to the window, studying her mother's spectacular view of the parking lot. "I'm sorry," he said, his throat still constricted. "We'll find someone else." He avoided their eyes, as if he was ashamed they'd see the failure in his gaze. "We'll keep looking, I swear it."
Charlie wanted to enfold him in her arms, draw his ache into her own body, kiss away all his hurt. But her mother held out both hands. "Come here, Sebastian."
He hunkered down in front of her chair, taking her damaged fingers in his. "I'll make this right, Francine."
"I want you to keep searching for me, because you never know, something might pop up. Some big new breakthrough. But I'm not disappointed, and neither should you be."
Charlie's heart broke watching them, this big, beautiful man down on one knee with an old woman who'd been forgotten by everyone except her daughter. And now Sebastian.
"I need to help you," he said, his voice raw with the emotion he'd been trying so hard to hide.
"You are helping me." She put her hand on his cheek. "You take time out of your busy life to visit me. And Charlie told me how you'll help us with Magnolia Gardens if we need it. I can't thank you enough for that. Best of all, you make my daughter happy. How can I ask for anything more?"
"Oh, Francine, I love visiting you." He glanced at Charlie, his eyes brimming with lingering sorrow and what looked like love. A love that had no bounds. "And your daughter makes me very happy too."
Charlie had to go to him then, bending down to press a soft kiss to his lips. As she drew away, he slid his free hand into her hair, held her close, kissing her back for a long, breathless moment.