Captivated by Nora Roberts Page B

decided. He glanced back at Nash. “You up for food?”
    “I’m always up for food.”
    “Great.” Sebastian pushed open the door and led them into the night. “You’re buying.”
    They were quite a trio, Nash decided as the four of them devoured slices of pizza dripping with cheese. They argued about everything, from what kind of pizza to buy to which alien demise had been the most effective in the movie they’d just seen. He decided that Morgana and Sebastian enjoyed sniping at each other as much as they enjoyed the meal, with Anastasia slipping in and out of the role of referee.
    It was obvious that the bond ran deep, for under the bickering and complaining was an inescapable stream of affection.
    When Morgana said to Sebastian, “Don’t be such a jerk, love,” Nash sensed that she meant “jerk” and “love” in equal measure. Listening to it, Nash fought back the same little stab of envy he’d felt on the beach at sunset.
    They were each only children, as he was. Yet they were not, as he was, alone.
    Anastasia turned to him. Something flickered in her eyes for a moment that was so much like sympathy that he felt a wave of embarrassment. Then it was gone, and she was only a lovely woman with an easy smile.
    “They don’t mean to be rude,” she said lightly. “They can’t help themselves.”
    “Rude?” With her hair tucked around to spill over one shoulder, Morgana swirled her glass of heavy red wine. “It isn’t rude to point out Sebastian’s flaws. Not when they’re so obvious.” She slapped his hand away from the slice of pizza on her plate. “See that?” she asked Nash. “He’s always been greedy.”
    “Generous to a fault,” Sebastian said.
    “Conceited,” she said, grinning at her cousin while she took a healthy bite of pizza. “Bad-tempered.”
    “Lies.” Contenting himself with his wine, Sebastian leaned back in his chair. “I’m enviably even-tempered. It’s you who have always had the tantrums. Right, Ana?”
    “Well, actually, you both—”
    “She never grew out of it,” Sebastian interjected. “As a child, when she didn’t get her way, she’d wail like a banshee, or sulk in corners. Control was never her strong point.”
    “I hate to point this out,” Anastasia told him, “but at least half the time Morgana was driven to wails it was because you’d provoked her.”
    “Naturally.” Unrepentant, Sebastian shrugged. “It was so easy.” He winked at Morgana. “Still is.”
    “I should never have let you down from the ceiling all those years ago.”
    Nash paused over his drink. “Excuse me?”
    “A particularly nasty little prank,” Sebastian explained. It still annoyed him that his cousin had gotten the better of him.
    “Which you richly deserved.” Morgana was pouting over her wine. “I’m not sure I’ve forgiven you yet.”
    Anastasia was forced to agree. “It was lousy of you, Sebastian.”
    Outnumbered, Sebastian relented. He could even, with an effort, dredge up some humor along with the memory. “I was only eleven years old. Little boys are entitled to be lousy. Anyway, it wasn’t a real snake.”
    Morgana sniffed. “It looked real.”
    Chuckling, Sebastian leaned forward to tell Nash the tale. “We were all over at Aunt Bryna’s and Uncle Matthew’s for May Day. Admittedly, I was always looking for a way to get a rise out of the brat here, and I knew she was terrified of snakes.”
    “And it’s just like you to exploit one small phobia,” Morgana muttered.
    “The thing was, the kid was fearless—except for this one thing.” Sebastian’s eyes, tawny as a cat’s, glowed with humor. “So, seeing as boys will be boys, I plopped a rubber snake right in the center of her bed—while she was in it, of course.”
    Nash couldn’t suppress the grin, but he did manage to turn the laugh into a cough when he saw Morgana’s arch look. “It doesn’t seem so terrible.”
    “He made it hiss and wriggle,” Ana put in, biting down on her lip