‘It’s been a busy week. We’ve all been putting in long hours to get the work done in time, and with the commute...’
‘Commute?’
She nodded. ‘Well, yes...’
‘Where do you live?’
She blinked, as if his question had taken her aback. ‘North London—Islington.’
Sebastio cursed under his breath. She might as well be in Paris. Even if he had his driver ferry her back and forth every day it would still be a huge commute. No wonder she looked tired.
He made a split-second decision. ‘You’re going to move in here for the duration of your contract.’
SHOCK REVERBERATED THROUGH EDIE. ‘You’re going to move in here...’ It wasn’t a question.
Sebastio was looking at her as if he was enjoying watching her reaction. And then he said musingly, ‘You’ve got a very expressive face. It’s amazingly refreshing.’
Edie scowled and folded her arms. She didn’t like to be reminded of how gauche she must seem to a man like him, who was undoubtedly surrounded by sophisticates who knew better than to let every thought be read like a cloud passing across the sky.
‘Are you always this bossy?’
He bit back a smile. ‘I think it’s my duty to ensure your health and safety.’
She looked at Sebastio suspiciously. She knew her commute was a bit ridiculous—even Jimmy had asked her how she was doing it. He lived in South London, so Richmond was handy for him. He’d offered her his couch to sleep on, but she preferred to sleep well for a few hours rather than badly for longer!
Sebastio was waiting for her reply. He really meant it.
She unfolded her arms. ‘I can’t just move in here... It’s not...appropriate.’
‘Says who?’
‘Me!’ Edie fired back.
‘I’ll hardly be here, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
She managed to stop herself from pointing out that he was here now.
‘I just don’t think it’s right.’ And then, before she could stop her runaway mouth, she was asking, ‘Why buy a property like this if you’re hardly ever here?’
Sebastio tensed. No one ever questioned him. And her question cut far too close to the bone. There were myriad reasons why he’d bought this place—chief of which were to do with its privacy and space, which appealed to his need to hide from the world and his ever-present guilt. However, he’d also bought it for its potential for entertaining. And its exclusivity.
But those aren’t the only reasons, whispered a mocking voice.
No. They weren’t. And he hated to admit it—even to himself. Hated to admit that in spite of the fact that he’d never felt as if he’d had a home, he wanted to create one. Some place where he might feel some measure of peace or atonement. When he didn’t deserve atonement. At all.
Not when he’d mocked Victor and Maya for their happy domestic idyll just moments before he’d been intrumental in wrecking that idyll for ever.
‘That’s none of your business,’ he said now, with more bite than he’d intended.
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