Untaming Lily Wilde (14 page)

Huh.
This was a lot to process under the scrutiny of Seb’s constant stare. Did he want an on-the-spot verdict from her?
Sure, Seb - gay wife - big sham - let’s hook up…

"If everything you’ve just said is true -" she said,

"Which it is."

"- then of course, I'll see you when you get back. No question. I just... I don't know. it's just a lot to take in."

They sat in silence for a while. Seb leaning back in his chair, watching Lily; Lily squirming on hers, playing with a froth-coated tea spoon. She wanted to believe him, and his version of events was certainly plausible. Something wasn't meshing though. While some silly school-girl part of her was hopping up and down, flapping her hands about, squealing, "He likes me! He really likes me! And he's not really married!" The more rational part was struggling to shoe-horn the pieces of his story together, and no matter how hard she willed them to slot neatly into order, something was getting in the way. Something last seen dressed as a Greek god with a thinly veiled whopper of an erection.

"Grayson."

Seb frowned. "That was slightly left field. What about Grayson?"

"He went along with everything Ana said. Why would he do that if it was all a scam? Why would he bother?"

"Honestly, I don't know,” he said. “Any number of reasons I guess. He's been on my case non-stop, telling me I’m letting Ana down. Really laying on the guilt and believe me, he really doesn't need to. I feel guilty enough already for fuck sake. Ana and me, we’ve been friends since we were eighteen; of course I don't want to mess things up for her with her family and inheritance. So, yeah I'm aware of Grayson- he cares way more than I’d have expected about all this. To be honest, I hoped he’d see where I was coming from. But he seems dead set on keeping this phony marriage running smoothly. Truth is I have no fucking clue why he's bothering. He makes a good wage from the work he does for us. So maybe it's just that. But he's well connected. It's not like he really needs us financially. Which makes me wonder... I dunno, it sounds stupid…”

"What? Not Ana? You think he might have a thing for Ana?"

"I can’t help wondering. But it’s ludicrous. We’ve been friends for so long; surely I’d know if he’d suddenly developed some mad crush."

Lily shrugged. The way Grayson had taken his cues from Ana at the party; he was more than happy to let her pull his strings.

"OK,” She conceded. “OK. I believe you. It’s all pretty tangled and crazy, but I believe you’ve never loved each other, you and Ana. And God knows what’s going on with Grayson.”

He nodded. "So where does this leave us?"

“Us? Right. Us…”
Oh, shit. I want him. I want him and the timing just stinking sucks. Couldn't you have waited? Couldn't you have turned up later in the year once I'd got fuck-tard Tom properly out of my head?
She pulled herself upright, lifted her mug closer to her lips, masking her expression.

She sighed. No way was she going to let him slip through her fingers, just because he’d shown up a little too soon. "Well, I guess you'll go away for February,” she said, a smile playing on her lips, “And I'll look forward to March.” She meant it, of course; every word. She’d be lusting after him all month, eagerly awaiting his return. She was ninety-nine percent tingling with excitement; blushing and light headed with craving for sexy Seb Harper. But that niggling little one percent told her she was being hasty. What about her resolution; her year of thrill-seeking badness?
Get a grip.
That’s not who you are, Lily Wilde, she told herself. But that one percent was stamping its foot and muttering.
Now we’ll never know.

“And you’re sure you won’t come with me? I could have words with your boss - pay for someone to cover you -”

“I’ll have you know I’m indispensable!”

Seb grinned. “As demonstrated by your magnificent wine spilling skills.”

“Precisely!” She said. “But no. Another time and I’d jump at the chance. Honestly I would. But my head’s in such a spin right now. By the time you’re back I promise I’ll be at least semi-rational.”

Seb leaned forward over the cramped aluminium table, took both her hands in his, then kissed her lips. Not the full-on, mouths, tongues, caution-to-the-wind kiss she’d known previously. This kiss was tender; a tenderness which lingered for just a few sweet, fleeting seconds, before he pulled back with the cocky smile of a man who suddenly has just one thing on his mind.

"Maybe we should seal the deal."

It was as though he had a remote line straight to her libido. The slightest twinkle of his come-to-bed eyes was enough to make her thighs shudder in anticipation.

Lily leaned in and kissed him back. “I hate to tell you, but I don’t think this table could take both our weight.”

“You know, sex doesn’t always have to be performed in public on a table.”

“It doesn’t?”

“That’s what I hear. We could go back to your place?”

“Ah. My place. Yeah, we could -"

"But?"

"It's a state. I've hardly found ten seconds to tidy all week. It's this job."

Seb shrugged. "D'you want me to hire you a cleaner?"

Jesus.
"No, Mr Money-bags, I'm just warning you, that's all. You'll have to give me five mins to pick up my underwear and put the bins out."

"No way. I want to see your dirty undies, and I couldn't give a crap about your bins. I'm not after you for your housekeeping skills."

Lily folded her arms.

"Fine. I'll stand out in the cold while you Spring clean. I just hope you appreciate the sacrifices I'm willing to make to get inside your knickers," he laughed.

"Drama queen. You can wait in the lobby."

She stood and smoothed her skirt, aiming to smooth her nerves in the process, while Seb pulled on his jacket. He wrapped his arms around her from behind in a gesture that felt strangely protective, as though he knew at any minute she might bottle it and run. It was a funny kind of nervousness. Excitement bordering on fear. Fear of jumping too soon, too far. But fear be damned. She wanted to jump.

"So where do you live? We'd better get going. Your legs in that skirt are making me horny."

Lily rolled her head back against his chest, inhaling him; fresh leaf tobacco and cinnamon.
Yes, I could get used to this.
She would regret saying bye-bye to her New Years Resolution, but for Seb Harper it’d be so worth it.

Outside the gallery, Seb hailed a cab and left Lily to tell the cabby her Whitechapel address. They shunted slowly through the stop-start London traffic and eventually found themselves outside the old renovated brewery building.

“Home sweet home.”

“Whoa. Looks amazing!” Seb announced in genuine awe, as they made their way through the courtyard.

Lily laughed. “Hold that thought.”

11

The huge Victorian building sat back from the frantic High Street, looking proud and resplendent. Inside however, was a slightly different story. It had been split into twenty apartments, ranging from chandeliered, mezzanined luxury, to basic, flaky-paint functionality. Lily’s flat, predictably, fell into the latter camp.

"I won't be long," she promised, leaving him in the sparse whitewashed lobby, “And if you want to nip out for a smoke, just buzz number twelve and I’ll let you back in. Be back for you in five mins... ten at the latest.”

She followed the twisting stairs and corridors until she arrived at flat 12, nestled by the fire escape. She slid her key into the mortis and found it unlocked. “Jesus, it's a wonder I've never been burgled,” she muttered, turning the Yale. As well as quickly blitzing the flat, she wanted to make sure her diary was hidden well out of view. Apart from anything else, she was pretty sure she'd called Seb a few choice names in there, so best keep it out of sight.

The living room had barely been lived in since she’d taken the job with Bellevue, so Lily headed straight through the hall to the bedroom, hastily straightening the sheets and rounding up a week’s worth of dirty washing. That would have to do. She pulled open her underwear draw and rummaged about for her diary.
Where the hell did I have it last?
She checked each of the usual spots in turn before remembering she’d had it last in the kitchen, thumbing through her recent exploits, over her morning coffee. She’d probably left it there.

She flitted back to the hall and was about to push open the glass doors which led to the kitchen when something stopped her. A subtle smell of anti-bac spray. That morning the kitchen bin bag had been near overflowing, and the flat was less than it’s usual fresh state. She pressed her ear lightly to the kitchen door.
Nothing. Get it together, woman. Do you suppose someone’s broken in to scrub your worktops?
Nonetheless she swung the door open with force, ready to confront her intruder.

No one. But her kitchen, previously disheveled, gleamed. Clear, clean worktops, bin emptied, dishes draining on the rack. Fresh flowers sat in a vase on the table, next to a bottle of wine.

“What the fuck…” she whispered.

The bathroom door gently creaked on its hinges. Footsteps, slow but heavy, moved towards her. Lily froze. Her heart hammered out of control. The bones in her legs threatened to dissolve. Tom.

“Get out.”

“Oh grow up, Lily. My name’s still on the lease for fuck’s sake. It’s my flat too. I came round to talk, that’s all.” He stepped into view, and blocked the doorway like a petulant bouncer. He held something in one hand.
No, it can’t be. He wouldn’t.

Lily could hardly speak. The words seemed to stick in her throat. “Why are you here?”

“Wanted to talk things through, that’s all. You weren’t here so I thought I’d do you a favour and clear up while I waited. Kind of let the place go a bit haven’t you?” There was a rough edge to his words, as though each was spat out.

“There’s nothing to talk about. You need to leave.”

“See the funny thing is, I came round here feeling sorry for you. I was actually getting myself ready to grovel.”

His knuckles whitened as he subconsciously clenched his fists.

Lily grounded herself. Seb was moments away. Tom was hardly going to attack her. You’re bigger than this, she told herself, you’re tougher than he thinks you are.

“I’m only going to tell you one more time. Get out!”

It was like he couldn’t hear her. “So here I am, emptying your bin, scrubbing your fucking sink, and I figure why not to the bathroom sink too, you know, do poor little Lily a turn. And look what we have here! Sat on the bath it was. Your filthy little slut diary.”

She spoke slowly and forcefully, "Either go, or get out of my way."

The buzzer rang. Both sets of eyes turned towards the front door. Then Tom marched into the hall towards the intercom, lifted the hand-piece to his ear and waited, eying Lily viciously as though this intrusion might be proof of some unimaginable betrayal. A male voice crackled over the old speaker.

"Lily, It's me. Are you there?"

She moved closer, about to call out.

Tom slammed the hand piece down and turned to Lily, waving the diary like a TV evangelist with a bible.

"Wonder who that was. The Greek god or the a-hole control freak.”

"Get out of my way."

Lily went to grab for the door handle but again Tom blocked her path. The buzzer went. Then again. Then a forth time. She went to hit the entry button and, with one firm push, Tom forced her tumbling onto the floor, scraping her shoulder against a radiator. For a moment he seemed horrified by what he'd done. He fell to the floor next to her and grabbed her arm, tenderly turning it to check for damage.

"Oh fuck. Shit, I didn't mean... Are you alright? Did you hurt your -"

"Get. Off. Me."

He sat back on his haunches, open mouthed, torn between guilt and rage. When he spoke, the words crawled menacingly from his tongue, “I loved you. I loved you and fucked you for eight years, and now look at you - a selfish, slutty little bitch.”

Lily readied herself to stand, but Tom held her back, crouching over her, clutching her face in his hands.

"You said I was the only man you'd ever want. That's what you said. Your words. And now, after one little slip up, you're throwing the towel in and whoring it about town. Do you know what that makes you? Do you?!"

She grabbed his arms and yanked them off her face, still keeping her voice level.

"Go on then. What does it make me?"

He looked her up and down, from her face to her cleavage then back again, then shoved her down onto the hard wood floor, pressing his weight on top of her. One hand over her mouth, still wreaking of cleaning fluid. His other was up inside her skirt, yanking down her tights. "A fucking liar's what it makes you," he hissed.

THUD! THUD! THUD!
A fist hammered the door.

"Lily, are you OK?"

She bit down hard into Tom's fleshy hand, breaking skin.

"Ah, fuck!" he cursed, recoiling.

THUD! THUD! THUD!