Deep Autumn Heat by Elisabeth Barrett Page B

and haze, she felt his hands slip out from around her body and his mouth withdraw from her own. She opened her eyes and blinked into the darkness. Set on a timer, the automatic lights had gone out.
    Although the night was very dark, she could see from the dim moonlight that Seb was watching her. He had a forbidding expression on his face.
    “Go inside,” he said starkly.
    “I—” Lexie tried to speak, then swallowed. Her voice sounded hollow in the evening air.
    “Now, please,” he said, his voice clipped.
    Lexie jerked away from him. In a flash, the motion sensor lights flicked back on, casting light on both them and the reality of the situation. This was the real Sebastian Grayson. Opening up to him had been a huge mistake. She should never have let her guard down, even for a moment. Needing to get away from him as soon as possible, she fumbled in her pocket for her house keys and nearly sprinted up the path to the door.
    Unlocking it as fast as she could, she switched the hall lights on and was about to slam the door in his face without even looking at him, when something made her turn back.
    He stood on the path staring at her, illuminated by her garden lights, looking huge even from ten feet away. He’d shoved his hands into the side pockets of his jeans. His leather jacket hung off his broad shoulders and his green eyes glowed in the darkness. He looked beautiful and very, very dangerous.
    But Lexie saw something else in his expression that she never would have expected. Sebastian Grayson looked. sad. For once, her wit betrayed her. The harsh words she had been about to let loose stuck in her throat.
    “You are
not
a nice man,” was all she was able to muster.
    “I know.”
    “I … I don’t like you.”
    “I know.” This said softly, almost ruefully.
    Lexie pursed her lips together. They still felt warm and slightly swollen from his kiss. She debated whether to say something else. Then carefully, deliberately, she simply closed the door.
    After a few moments, she heard the crunch of his boots on her garden path and the roar ofhis motorcycle as he started it up. Once the sound of the engine had disappeared down Harper’s Pond Road, she sagged against the door. Bending her knees, she let her body slide down. When she reached the ground, she curled her arms around her legs and tucked her head against her knees. She replayed the events of the last few hours again and again in her mind until she finally gathered the strength to drag herself to bed.

CHAPTER 8
     
    “Now
this
is what I call living,” Sebastian sighed as he sat in a low beach chair on the deck of Val’s houseboat, a fishing pole propped in the crook of his arm. The lure bobbed in the water, which undulated in alternating swirls of green and blue. A light breeze blew out of the southwest and the salty tang of the water permeated the air. Even though it was now officially autumn, it was warm outside on this Tuesday morning, and Seb was wearing low-slung jeans and a short-sleeved T-shirt. Theo was back in San Francisco, Cole was working, and Seb was free until an afternoon appointment with the real estate broker in Boston. For the first time in a long time, he had nowhere pressing to be and plenty of time to think about his career. “Summer’s over, the tourists are gone, and all that’s left are the locals. Right, Val?”
    Seb glanced over at Val, who was standing a few feet away, leaning against the cabin wall. His older brother’s lean, sinewy frame was deceiving, his strength—and his physical training—hidden. Underneath his calm, quiet exterior was a man who could rapidly defuse a tense situation with a gesture or a few well-chosen words—very useful traits to have in his current profession as a drug enforcement agent. He was glad Val had chosen to work from home this morning; he liked his brother’s company.
    Val turned to him, his face implacable. “Sorry to inform you of this, bro, but as Cole so aptly put it, you’re no