Not even for Sebastian.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll try one more time to find that file the old man wants tonight, and then I’ll get out—for good.”

Even if it would break my heart. I didn’t want to leave Sebastian behind, but Finn was right. There was no place for me in Sebastian’s world, and I didn’t want to drag him into mine. Not when he would hate me for it and what I’d done to his father.

Finn studied me, his features eerily similar to Fletcher’s in that moment. Then he nodded, apparently satisfied by whatever he saw in my face. He gave my arm another gentle squeeze before snagging a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

“Now, on to more important matters,” he drawled. “Like who I plan on bringing home for the evening. I was thinking about her.”

He tipped his glass at a woman standing about twenty feet away from us, one of the most breathtaking women I’d ever seen. Her spaghetti-strapped black gown was sleek and stylish and brought just the right amount of attention to her perfect body while also highlighting the rich toffee color of her skin. She had wonderful curves, but her face was even more beautiful, with dark, expressive eyes and glorious cheekbones. A thin diamond headband held her black hair back off her face, showing off her scarlet lips and the gentle slope of her neck. She wasn’t wearing any other jewelry, but she didn’t need to.

I might have had something of a Goth Cinderella vibe going on tonight, but she was the sort of woman who would look gorgeous long after the ball was over.

“Who’s that?”

“Roslyn Phillips,” Finn said, never taking his eyes off her as he sipped his champagne. “She’s opening up a new nightclub. It’s called Northern Aggression.”

“Northern Aggression? Clever.”

He nodded. “Clever, indeed. She came into the bank a few months ago to get the financing. You should have seen the way she had all of the bigwigs eating out of the palm of her hand. They thought she was just a pretty face to start with, but she really wowed them with her business plan. That is a woman to be reckoned with.”

And apparently, a woman to be admired, judging from the men standing three deep around her. Still, I had to respect the graceful way she spoke to each of them in turn, never favoring one over another, even though they were all competing for her attention.

“I see two CEOs, a couple of CFOs, and a drug lord gathered around her,” I said. “And you really think that she’s going to go home with you tonight? Keep dreaming, Finn.”

“Ah, yes. But I have one thing that all of those other schmucks don’t.”

“Really? What’s that?”

He flashed me a cocky grin. “I’m Finnegan Lane, baby. The best there is at everything—including the boudoir arts.”

I couldn’t keep myself from laughing or teasing him. “Well, good luck, Mr. Lane. Although I would think that someone like her would be more your speed.”

I pointed over at the blond girl who had come in with Harry Coolidge, the one who looked so much like Bria. She and Charlotte had finally connected, and the two of them stood next to the table full of birthday presents. The blond girl was talking animatedly, glancing around with excitement at all the people, but Charlotte was focused on the present that her friend had given her. She slowly untied the pink ribbon, lifted the box top, and set it aside. She dug through some tissue paper before pulling out a delicate pink cameo that was a match for the blue one the blond girl was wearing. Charlotte must have liked it, because she immediately hooked the cameo around her neck. The blond girl beamed at her friend.

“Her?” Finn asked, his voice taking on an offended, incredulous note. “She looks like she’s fifteen at the most. That’s way too young for me, Gin. I do have some standards, moral and otherwise.” He paused and glanced at the girl again. “Maybe in ten years or so. When she’s all grown up.”

I laughed at his arrogance, but if there was one man who could make something happen, even ten years into the future, it was definitely Finn.

“You know, one day, you’re going to meet a girl who won’t automatically fall in love with you or be immediately seduced by your so-called charm,” I sniped. “I just hope that I’m around to see it happen, when the ego of the mighty Finnegan Lane gets the bruising and beat-down that it so richly deserves.”

Finn threw his arm around my shoulders. “Have I mentioned how much I love it when you talk about me in the third person? Totally makes my ego kick up another notch. Or ten.”

I couldn’t help but laugh again.

“. . . and so I want to raise a toast to my father and to keeping his legacy alive and well for years to come.” Sebastian was finally finishing his speech. “Cheers.”

He raised his champagne glass high, and so did everyone else in the ballroom. There was a moment of silence. Then the music started up again, and the guests resumed their previous conversations.

Porter separated himself from the crowd and went over to Sebastian, who was shaking hands again with some of his guests. Sebastian whispered something to Porter, who handed him a fresh glass of champagne. Sebastian took that glass and headed in my direction.

“Looks like my cue to leave,” Finn said. “Just think about what I said, okay, Gin?”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Despite all of our differences over the years, our childish fights, our failed summer romance, and our continued rivalry, he really was the best brother a girl could have, blood or otherwise.

Finn winked at me, then slipped off into the crowd, heading straight for Roslyn Phillips. One moment, he was standing on the fringes of the men around her. The next, he’d insinuated himself by her side. I didn’t know how he managed it. Sometimes I thought Finn was part magician and part cat.

“Ms. Phillips, I don’t think you’ve had the pleasure of my company yet,” Finn murmured, his smooth, suave voice drifting over to me. “My name is Finnegan Lane . . .”

And that was all I heard before Sebastian reached my side, a wide grin on his face from his moment of triumph. He passed me the glass of champagne that Porter had given him. I didn’t much care for champagne. It was too bubbly, too light and frothy, for my liking, as though I were drinking fizzy air, but I didn’t want to be rude. He tinked his glass against my own, and we toasted each other.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here and go have that talk.”

“Are you sure you want to leave now? The party is just getting started again.”

Sebastian stepped closer to me and pressed a soft kiss against my cheek. I breathed in his scent, sweet and spicy at the same time. Once more, desire stirred in my veins, deeper and more intense than before, because I knew that this night would be the only one that I ever had with him.

Sebastian drew back, his dark eyes searching mine. “I’m sure,” he whispered. “Are you?”

All I could do was nod, too overcome with emotion to speak.

He grabbed my hand, and I let him pull me out of the ballroom.

19

We turned a corner and hurried down the hallway, holding hands like a couple of kids. At the far end, Sebastian risked a quick glance around. Satisfied that we were alone, he put his champagne flute down on a nearby table, then backed me up against the closest wall and kissed me, hot and hard, so hard that I almost dropped my own glass.

He drew back and frowned. “You haven’t drunk any of your champagne.”

“Later,” I whispered. “I’d rather taste you right now.”

I pulled his head down to mine and kissed him as deeply as he had kissed me. By the time he finally pulled back, we were both panting for breath.

He grinned. “I know the feeling.”

Sebastian scooped me up in his arms, glass and all, and headed for the nearest staircase. I wrapped my hand around his shoulder and nipped at the side of his neck with my teeth.

“You keep doing that, and we won’t make it to where I want to go,” he rasped.

“Mmm.” I nipped his neck again.

I didn’t care where we went as long as I was with him. I wanted to make tonight count. I needed to make tonight count.

Because I wouldn’t have a tomorrow with him.

I kept kissing his neck, while Sebastian carried me up to the third floor, to a room that was at the opposite end of the hall from the library and his father’s office. He nudged the door open with his shoulder, stepped through to the other side, then kicked the wood shut again with his foot. Sebastian strode forward and set me down on my feet in the middle of the room.

It wasn’t just any room—it was his bedroom. A king-size bed dominated much of the space, the white silk sheets on it standing out in stark contrast to the ebony wooden frame. More ebony tables were scattered throughout the room, along with a matching armoire, while the thick rugs underfoot were a mix of black, white, and gold patterns. Despite all the times I’d been to the estate over the past two weeks, Sebastian hadn’t shown me his room before. It was dark and utterly masculine, like him.

I loved it—and I loved him too.

Sebastian plucked the champagne glass from my hand and set it on the nightstand beside the bed. I tossed my purse down onto the settee at the foot of the bed.

Then, with one thought, we came together.

I unknotted his black bow tie, loosened it from around his neck, and tossed it aside, not caring where it landed. Then I carefully undid the top button of his shirt, exposing his luscious tan skin. I kissed his neck again, feeling his pulse against my lips. Racing, racing, racing, just like mine was.

Sebastian captured my chin with his hand, raised my head, and kissed me again, even harder than he had downstairs. There was nothing soft and sweet about his kisses tonight. Good. I didn’t want there to be, because this, tonight, now, was about how we could make each other feel.

We stood there, rocking back and forth, our tongues dueling, even as our hands began to creep inside each other’s clothes. I helped him shrug off his jacket and undid the rest of the buttons on his shirt, exposing his muscled chest and flat stomach. He slid down the straps that held up the bodice of my dress, then unzipped the back of it. I shrugged out of the silk, let it fall to the floor, and then kicked it out of the way, standing there in only a pair of black lace panties. Sebastian’s eyes trailed up and down my body, his gaze darkening in appreciation.

“So beautiful,” he whispered. “So sexy.”

A thrill went through me at his words, and I stepped back into the warm circle of his arms. He bent down and touched his lips to my neck, lightly nibbling at the skin there with his teeth, just as I’d done to him before, then kissing his way down to my right breast. His tongue circled first one of my ni**les, then the other, licking, nipping, and sucking in a quick, needy rhythm, even as his hand dipped lower and started sliding under the edge of my panties.

“Condom?” I rasped, even as I arched back to give him better access. I took my little white pills, but extra protection never hurt.

Sebastian scraped his teeth against my right nipple, then my left. It was several seconds before he spoke again. “In my wallet.”

I reached around, fumbling in his back pocket. He kept distracting me, kissing me, caressing me, both of his hands now sliding lower and lower, but I eventually pulled his wallet from his pants and found a condom tucked inside. I grabbed it and tossed the wallet away like I had done with his bow tie.

In the meantime, Sebastian had hooked his fingers into my panties and pushed them down. I stepped out of them, kicking the silk away, and Sebastian went down on his knees before me. He slowly smoothed his hands down my thighs, making me shudder with anticipation. His hands trailed back up my legs. I thought he might tease me some more, but he quickly slid a finger inside me, rubbing slow circles and ratcheting up my desire.

My nails dug into his shoulders, and I had trouble holding on to the condom. I had trouble focusing on anything but what he was doing to me and how much I enjoyed it.

“Do you like that, Gin?” he murmured. “How about this?”

He pumped his finger inside me again, and it was all I could do to keep standing.

Sebastian kept talking to me, telling me all the things that he was going to do to me, all the ways that he was going to please me, all the things that he was going to make me feel. Every word he said, every naughty promise and sly stroke, made me ache more for him.

Finally, he kissed his way back up my body to my mouth. Once again, our tongues stroked back and forth before I pulled back.

I handed Sebastian the condom and gave him a wicked grin. “My turn to play.”

I shoved his shirt off his shoulders, exposing his chest. I took my time, kissing his neck again and following the faint trail of dark hair down to his pants. I undid his belt, unzipped his pants, and pushed them down, along with the black silk briefs that he wore. Sebastian stepped out of his shoes and clothes. Then I took his hard length in my hand, stroking, caressing, and teasing, just as he’d done to me.

“That’s enough of that,” he finally growled.

Sebastian kissed me again, his tongue thrusting against mine as his h*ps rocked forward. He picked me up and put me down on the bed, before drawing back, ripping the foil packet open with his teeth, and covering himself with the condom. Then he laid his body down on top of mine, wrapped my legs around his waist, and slid into me with one smooth motion. I dug my nails into his back, groaning at how good he felt inside me.

“Oh, sugar,” he murmured. “If you think that feels good, how about this?”

Sebastian withdrew a bit, then surged back up inside me, deeper and harder than before. I groaned again, clutching at his shoulders. He grinned and drove himself into me again and again. I met him thrust for thrust, our moans shattering the silence, until I finally screamed from the pleasure of it all and let myself go as I never had before. Sebastian shuddered against me, finding his own release.