Yet he couldn't resist getting closer one last time. He sat on the bed. Her eyes were closed but he felt her awareness of him. He kissed her, felt her soften and flow around him. But before she roused too much he laid her back on the pillow, easing out of the kiss, soothing rather than stirring. He wanted her to sleep. He straightened, tore his eyes away, and forced his leaden legs to move. Away.
Down in his study he held the file, hesitating for just a moment, reluctant to sever the connection. But this was the only way. Yet another idea teased him, another option-one so sweet and intoxicating that he burned with longing. Wished he could start again-rewind and replay with sincerity this time. Would that be the proof she needed?
But it was stupid, an impossible idea. So he uncapped the pen and scrawled across the paper. Closed the file and tossed it to the desk. Then he ran.
Chapter Twelve
FOUR hours later Seb sat across from his mother. Customers filled every table but the exclusive restaurant offered privacy as well. He'd reserved a small booth and ensured his mother had her back to the others-in case there was a meltdown. She'd be able to mop up with some dignity and not have a restaurant full of people wonder why she was bawling. He supposed he should have met her privately, but he needed the public around to prevent his own meltdown.
He took in a breath, might as well get it over. 'I saw Dad yesterday.'
'Did you?' She sat back in her chair and looked hard at the carafe of water in front of her. 'Janine's pregnant, isn't she?'
Sebastian lowered his glass. 'How did you know?'
'I guessed as much. Obvious from the speed of that wedding. And she didn't drink. Nor did Eric, which is very unusual.' She tilted her head to the side and gave him a twisted, tender smile. 'He sent you to tell me, didn't he?'
Seb nodded.
'Poor Seb. Always the go between. Always the jam in the middle.'
'The fraying rope in the tug of war, you mean.' He bit his lip. It wasn't his job to make it worse for her. 'He didn't want you to be upset.'
She ignored the latter comment. 'Not fraying, Seb. You're very strong.'
Hardly. He was a coward. He'd accused Ana of avoiding the important things when it was he who did that all the time.
'Well.' Silvery sadness shone briefly in his mother's eyes. 'That's wonderful news for them.'
'Bit weird, isn't it?' Seb said drily. 'I'm old enough to be the baby's father.'
'And I could be its grandmother.'
Good one, Seb. Still not helping.
'It was my fault, you know.' His mother suddenly looked intense, silver tears brimmed, threatening to spill. 'I cheated on him.'
'What? On Dad?'
'Yes,' she said. 'I cheated. I started with Miles long before I left your father.'
Miles had been husband number two.
'Why?'
'I was lonely. You know I wanted more children. Eric refused to consider other options-no adoption or fostering even. As far as he was concerned it would happen naturally. And I guess we married too young. Life wasn't fun any more. I felt trapped, resentful. I turned to Miles.' She looked closely at Seb. 'That was why I broke up with your father. It was nothing to do with you.'
Seb ignored the emotion in her last comment. He so didn't want to go there. 'Did you sleep with Miles because you wanted to get pregnant?'
'No.' She half laughed but it was a sad sound. 'He'd had a vasectomy so I knew it was impossible. It was liberating, to be honest.'
That hit Seb like an unexpected bucket of icecold water over the head. Miles had had a vasectomy? She'd left his father for a man she knew couldn't give her the other children she so desperately craved? Confusion fogged everything. 'But you wanted more children.'
'I'd have adopted. But like Eric, Miles didn't want to. He already had children and he didn't want any more.'
Well, Seb had known that-Miles hadn't wanted anyone else's kid, for sure, certainly not him. And he'd been happy for his ex to have custody of the ones he had fathered. But hadn't he wanted Lily to have what she longed for?
Seb had always thought it was the kid thing that had busted his folks up-but it seemed it had been a whole lot more complicated than that. So what had happened with Miles? 'Is that why you broke up with him?'
'No. He cheated on me.' Lily shrugged. 'Served me right, I guess.'
She'd moved on to another man, another marriage. Started trying again. But still no more kids came. Seb had been into his teens then; he remembered her heartbreak. And he'd hated not being able to make it better.
'Could you do it, Sebastian? Could you raise another man's son?'
'Of course,' Seb answered bluntly. 'If he were the son of the woman I loved then I'd love him, too. And if he was some poor kid who had no parents and needed some, then sure, I'd step up.'
The words went easily from him but he registered their importance only as he uttered them. Of course he would. For the right woman he'd take on a tribe if she asked him to. If Ana asked.
The tightness in his chest went vice-like. God, why hadn't he thought of that before? Did he have the courage to ask it of her? To take him on for good?
Because he could promise her that no matter what the fates served, he'd somehow find a way to build the family he knew she craved. And he craved it too, didn't he-that love, that sharing, that security that neither of them had had?
And he could offer that too. For he would never leave her-not until death made him.
Could she say yes to that? Would that be enough?
Seb reached across the table and put his hand on his mother's wrist. 'Are you OK?'
'Sure.' She smiled, a bit tremulous, but genuine. 'I've done a lot of work, Seb-a lot of counselling. I know how hard it must have been for you. How much I burdened you. And I'm sorry for that.' She placed her hand over his and squeezed. 'But look at the man you've become. What mother could want more when she has a son like you?'
Ana eventually dragged herself from the heaven that was Seb's bed. She'd spent hours lazily dozing, revelling in the warmth and the sheer blissful relaxation. Of all the nights they'd lain together that had been the most profound-so utterly intense. The connection between them had been more than intimate, more than physical. There was a bond there-an invisible, unbreakable bond. She hadn't dreamt it, and finally felt as if she could believe it.
Nervous, she giggled at her thoughts, trying to make herself take it one day at a time and not get too fanciful. But she felt as if she'd been healed within. Her doubts from yesterday felt as distant as Pluto. She really believed it now-he cared. He thought she was beautiful. He'd told her. And he couldn't hold her, caress her, touch her like that if he didn't have real feelings for her. So maybe, just maybe, they might work things out.
She pulled on a robe and floated down to the study-motivated to get some real stuff done on the business. Feeling more positive and refreshed and enthused and simply more alive than she ever had.
He'd obviously been in there before going to work. The filing cabinet was open and a few files lay scattered over his desk. She pulled them together so she could access the computer keyboard, but stopped as she glanced at the writing on the cover of one. It was his writing. But it was her own name in the ink.
Curiosity was an instinct impossible to ignore.
She knew it would be bad before she lifted the flap. But that knowledge didn't stop her. A kind of fatalistic certainty made her do it. Better to know. But even so the shock was something else.
She stared at the signature. The date. So vivid against the white paper. And she tried to comprehend its meaning.
Failed.
Blind fury roared through her system.
He'd signed them. He'd screwed her senseless for hours last night, then gone straight to his study and signed the divorce papers.
She couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe even he could go from such tender togetherness to such coldhearted severance. What had last night been about for him-a final farewell?
She roused her rage more, anything to cover the pain searing inside. She had actually started to think … to hope … dared to believe he might one day use the 'L' word.
Well, she would use it-LOSER.
That was what she was. A colossal fool who'd stayed far too long hanging onto the roller coaster that was Sebastian.
'Ana.'
She lifted her head and sick bile rose in her throat. He was in the doorway.
'You once warned me not to come near you,' she said in a low voice. 'Well, I'm warning you now, Seb. Don't come near me.'
But he didn't listen. He just did as he wanted, didn't he? As he always did. Her hands shook. She curled them into fists, crushing the paper she still held as he stepped nearer and nearer.
'Ana.'
She flew at him, throwing the pages ahead of her, wanting the edges to cut him. To draw blood. Never having struck out at anyone in her life, she was unable to stop the violence in her now. Her fingers spread, the tips curling to claws, and she swiped through the air-wanting to slap or scratch or mar. Anything to bring vengeance. Desperate to hurt him.