Two years, three weeks, and six days and oh, about twelve hours, give or take a few. Math was Shane’s area of expertise, not his. Sebastian knew it had been too fucking long, though. And his siren had grown only more beautiful.
Two years after Summer’s demand that they give Alyssa time to heal, to fight back from the attack and the weakened condition it had left her in, her father’s lover and soon-to-be fiancée, Landra Collier was hosting his fifty-fourth birthday party. God love Aunt Landra’s heart. His aunt ensured Alyssa had to stay in one place for a few hours tonight anyway. Something she hadn’t done at any of the other parties he’d tried to corner her at over the past weeks. She ignored their phone calls, their texts, and refused to see them. And catching her at a party proved impossible.
Sebastian had waited, though. The gifts were presented, the cake was cut, and now everyone was enjoying champagne, dancing, and a jovial atmosphere sure to be the talk of the town come morning. For Sebastian, it was the first chance to approach Alyssa since he and Shane had been forced away from her eight years before.
His siren. God help him, he missed her.
Tonight, she was wearing black rather than the icy, pale, almost white blue she’d worn the first time they’d seen her.
Little sleeves trailed just off her shoulder, gathered, and led to the low-cut back. Her full, beautiful breasts rose above the snug material cupping her like a lover’s hand from breast to hip, where it flared out in yards of material. Behind her, the flow of the dress was gathered just slightly above that pretty ass before falling into a train that trailed behind her a good twelve to fourteen inches. In front, the material whispered to the floor, giving just a glimpse of the toes of her matching four-inch heels.
Diamonds and a single sapphire gleamed between the tempting mounds of her breasts and she wore no other jewelry. Not in her hair or in her pretty ears.
Sebastian made a note to have Shane take the rest of the collection from the De Lorens’ safe and bring it back with him. Pretty diamond and sapphire drops for her hair and around her wrist. The engagement ring he and Shane had had made and pretty earrings.
The rest of the jewelry carried the same theme. A single sapphire protected by two diamonds. The siren protected by them. By their promise.
Always bound, they’d promised her.
Since the night they’d been forced to leave her with Summer two years before, one of them had always watched over her. She was never left without protection, never allowed to be at risk again.
Watching her move now, the feminine shift of hips and rear, he gave a little sigh. His cock was so damned hard it was like iron trying to bust the zipper of his tuxedo slacks.
Eight years. It had been eight years since he’d allowed himself to face her. At least while she was conscious. Eight years since he’d dared to consider approaching her. For six of those years, to do so would have been meant a punishment she would have never recovered from, one he and Shane would have carried the guilt of. For the past two years Sebastian had simply watched her from afar, the changes in her more unsettling than he wanted to admit.
Those changes in personality and behavior were so striking, it was as though he’d never known her. Never touched her or heard her cries of pleasure. They were changes he knew hadn’t occurred without trauma. And now he wondered how he’d managed to stay away from her in the past two years, let alone the full eight. Kept from coming to her, from touching her, loving her, hearing her cries of ecstasy as he and Shane possessed her.
The pleasure they found with her was like nothing they had ever known. It was like being part of a storm, part of ecstasy itself.
She wasn’t the same girl they’d lost themselves to in Barcelona, though. The laughing, sensual young woman in those damned frilly skirts and little sleeveless shirts, her feet bare, her long hair tangled around her face, was gone.
Or naked, perspiration glistening across sun-kissed flesh as she stared at them, crying out her pleasure.
No, she wasn’t the same woman.
This woman moved with restraint. There was none of the promise of passion, and wild pleasure was nowhere in sight. It was deeply hidden, sensed now rather than felt.
Her thick, heavy fall of ash-blond hair that would have fallen to just below her shoulders. Now it was upswept and pinned into artful disarray. Little curls and precisely pulled strands of the multi-hued strands trailed along her neck and the side of her face. Finely arched brows swept over icy gray eyes. Eyes the color of winter clouds, darkened and filled with an oncoming storm.
Lithe, graceful, enchanting. And untouchable. Restrained, careful, without the passion and love for adventure that had filled her that summer in Spain.
Every look, from her perfectly composed expression, her chilly gaze, and her proud posture spelled untouchable. Unapproachable.
The Ice Princess was merely taking a stroll among her subjects and they dare not attempt to even touch the hem of her gown for fear of retribution. Or of frostbite.
The fanciful thought had a scowl pulling at his brow. Alyssa wasn’t icy. She wasn’t uncaring or without emotion. The woman he watched now was the same woman they’d warmed two years ago, the same one whose innocence they’d taken, but the heart of that woman was so carefully frozen now that reaching it was only done when she dreamed.
How they did it, how they’d known her pain, her fears, for the past eight years he didn’t always understand.
His grandfather called it being soul bound. Some lucky men of the De Loren line knew a love that flowed so deep, so strong, that their souls would meld with their women’s. Fernando De Loren had been confused how two of his grandsons had soul-bound the same woman, but he’d been certain the bond was there.
What Sebastian knew was the bond between Alyssa and him was unbroken. Just as the bond she and Shane shared had remained strong, steady.
When she slept.
It was almost amusing how she’d blocked herself from them. It would have been amusing if it didn’t piss Sebastian off so damned much.
Forcing his gaze from her, Sebastian let it travel around the room, as he watched the lustful stares that followed her. Every man watching her imagined she belonged to them. How could they help but to lust after her? She was every man’s fantasy. A wet dream walking. She sure as hell had his unruly flesh reacting despite the invisible Do Not Touch sign he could feel guarding her virtue.
She might be untouchable, but the male eyes there were definitely enjoying the view, Sebastian thought, as he shot the middle-aged tycoon eyeing her ass as she passed, a glare. The bastard was older than her father. He should be ashamed of himself.
The look on Grandpa’s face wasn’t one of shame, though. It was pure appreciation and wishful thinking. That was one treasure the graying grandfather of eight would never have a chance to touch. A sweet the bastard would never have a chance to taste.
She did have a fine ass, though. Nicely curved and pert, it bunched and flexed with graceful movements, the toned muscle shifting beneath her dress and drawing the eye without being in the least overt.
Every move she made whispered come-hither, while every look from her cold gray eyes sent the chill of rejection. And she could have had damned near any man in the ballroom and many of the women as well if that was what she wanted.
The cream of Alexandria’s social set had turned out for her father’s birthday party, thrown by none other than one of the most popular widows among the political elite. Rumored to be occupying the senator’s bed after his wife’s death two years before, his soon-to-be-announced fiancée, Landra Collier, had thrown a lavish celebration.
Aunt Landra was the queen of parties as far as Sebastian was concerned. Imaginative decorations, always with the utmost taste and style, and a guest list that had the political elite vying for invitations.
Champagne flowed from crystal fountains; a buffet of the choicest tidbits was offered as well as sweets so elaborately decorated they looked more like confections of art. Several box-office stars were in attendance, as well as a couple of Billboard’s highest-ranking musicians. Music drifted through the ballroom, seducing those who ventured out to dance and making brave even the most timid of guests. And occasionally those Billboard stars stepped to the stage to croon to a rapt, appreciative audience.
The party was also rumored to be a preliminary step to establish backing for a presidential bid for the senator as well. After eight years serving as senator, Davis Allen Hampstead was said to be ready to make his move on the White House. And there were those who believed he had an excellent chance at succeeding.
Though that rumor hadn’t been confirmed among Sebastian’s sources. And his sources were some of the best, even among this crowd.
“Would you explain why you’re watching Ms. Hampstead-Stanhope make her rounds?” Khalid Mustafa questioned him from where he had stepped to Sebastian and leaned against the white marble pillar near the foyer entrance.
Stanhope. Her married name was guaranteed to have him gritting his teeth. Why she’d kept it after the death of her husband he had yet to figure out. Harvey Stanhope had died, along with Alyssa’s mother, only days after Shane and Sebastian had rushed to reach Alyssa. The certainty that Alyssa was dying had nearly driven them crazy before they reached the United States.
They had nearly lost her, twice. Her husband’s attempt to murder her had nearly succeeded. Margot Hampstead’s plan to ensure Alyssa’s husband never harmed her again had succeeded, though. She’d killed Stanhope, even as she’d ensured her own death, according to Summer.
“I don’t consider this your business, Khalid,” Sebastian informed him softly, never taking his gaze from Alyssa. “Go play with your wife.”
Khalid didn’t often need an invitation to get nosy, though, Sebastian had learned, especially when it came to his sense of protectiveness where certain women were concerned.
“It would appear Marty is rather busy at the moment,” Khalid sighed. “But I’m fairly certain I have warned you that Ms. Hampstead-Stanhope wasn’t a woman I would be pleased to learn you and your cousin were attempting to seduce, though. You’re about to make us enemies, De Loren.”
Yeah, that one really worried him into the deepest hours of the night.
“I think perhaps I might not have been paying attention then,” Sebastian murmured, not in the least interested in dragging his attention from Alyssa to the half-Saudi onetime bastard prince. “I’ll try to do better next time.”
He probably wouldn’t but sometimes it was best to pacify Khalid, just to shut him up.
“Ignoring such warnings isn’t considered advisable, Sebastian,” he drawled. “It wasn’t given casually, as you should know.”
Sebastian was getting tired of the warnings too. As far as he was concerned, Khalid could go to hell. Neither Alyssa nor his interest in her was anyone’s business but his and Shane’s.
“Isn’t it getting close to your bedtime, Khalid?” Sebastian asked. “Why don’t you hurry along so your pretty wife can tuck you in?”
A tense silence filled the air around them for long moments. Not that Sebastian paid much attention to it.
“Marty will wait for me.” Khalid’s brooding glare was ignored by Sebastian, his attention remaining on Alyssa as she stopped to chat with none other than Khalid’s wife, Marty.
His siren.
She’d shut herself down so completely that the laughter and warmth that had been so much a part of her seemed to have evaporated.
Eight years ago she’d walked through this same ballroom, laughing with friends, Summer Bartlett and Gia Bennett. She’d been young, more innocent than they’d imagined, and so very open. Now she was cool, distant, and mysterious.
Then Sebastian had had no doubt that he and Shane could seduce her. Now he was certain he’d have to kidnap her to get a dance. She ignored his texts, his phone calls, and refused the single written invitation he’d sent her for dinner.
She had his confidence a bit dented for sure.
“She’s far too fragile to deal with you and your cousin, Sebastian,” Khalid warned him again.
Sebastian’s jaw tensed. He heard the tone in the other man’s voice, the knowledge that added an edge of pure confidence to the accented tone. There were times Khalid could be a pain in the ass. This was beginning to look like one of those times.
Acquiring information was one of Khalid’s more interesting hobbies. Unfortunately, it appeared he’d become far too curious in the time Sebastian had been watching Alyssa. No doubt he would begin investigating why very soon. If he hadn’t already put that far too intelligent brain of his to work in a matter that didn’t concern him.
“That look of shattered pain in her eyes hadn’t been there until she returned from a trip she took after graduating high school. Many attributed it to her mother. They said Margot wasn’t kind to the girl, though I’m not one of those who believe it. A few of us deduced a broken heart. What do you think?” Khalid’s question almost caught him off guard. And he damned well knew better than to allow Khalid’s chatter to slip beneath his defenses. “I’m beginning to believe it was a broken heart myself.”
“I think you better go join Marty now,” Sebastian snorted as Alyssa moved to continue walking gracefully through the crowded ballroom. “You’re giving me a headache.”
Not to mention some heavily suspicious looks.
Khalid chuckled at the invitation, though he wasn’t quite finished yet, it seemed.
“Alyssa was once part of a rather unique little group. She joined just after her twentieth birthday.” Khalid lowered his voice further as he spoke of the Sinclair Men’s Club Khalid was a member of and Sebastian had managed for the past two years.
“I know this.” He was growing rather irritated with the other man now. Khalid merely stared back at him for long moments before evidently deciding to let that question pass.
“She maneuvered her dismissal from it very well about two years ago, though,” Khalid continued. “I was actually rather proud of how she killed two birds with one stone so to speak.”
Sebastian restrained the tug of a smile at his lips. He had to agree with Khalid, though he was still rather curious why she had maneuvered her dismissal rather than simply resigning from the club. She’d been married at the time. She’d never had an affair with any of the men; according to club files, she’d simply been a member, accepted under a special-circumstances clause in the Club membership rules.
Hell, she’d married six fucking weeks after she’d left Barcelona and no one knew why. There was so little gossip where she was concerned that it was impossible to figure out what the hell was going on.
“Your chatter is irritating me, Khalid,” Sebastian sighed. “And that nose of yours is going to get you into trouble. Stay out of it.”
He didn’t need Khalid in a troublemaking mood. It didn’t happen often, but when it did happen the other man could become a problem.
“Have I mentioned I sometimes get bored when Marty’s busy?” Khalid asked curiously, crossing his arms as he settled in against the heavy support. “It’s a terrible failing, I must admit.”
He got bored when Marty was busy?
Khalid didn’t have enough sense to give himself time to get bored. He jumped right into everyone’s business without invitation or warning.
“How long has it been since you’ve touched her, my friend? Since you broke her once tender heart?” Khalid queried then, his voice much lower, more dangerous, than before. “And still you watch her with the hunger of a new lover. Tell me, were you and your cousin the reason she returned from Spain eight years before with all the passion and love for life she held, silenced?”
And his cousin Shane accused him of getting overdescriptive and poetic? He obviously hadn’t been paying attention to Khalid over the years.
“Shut the hell up, Khalid,” Sebastian ordered him, still watching her profile as she moved for the wide French doors that led to the gardens.
It was in those gardens that he and Shane had first seen her. They’d been attempting to seduce another CIA courier they had worked with before heading back to Spain.
How they’d managed to miss the beauty who had found them in the farthest corner of the garden that night so long ago they had never figured out. They’d spent several hours in the ballroom, yet they hadn’t seen Alyssa until she nearly stepped into a sheltered arbor where they’d stood with another woman.
“Excuse me.” He moved to follow Alyssa, stopping when the other man blocked his exit with a subtle move of his body.
“Have I mentioned Alyssa is a friend? One I am quite fond of, actually. This could be a problem for me. Loyalty issues, you know? I’m very protective of the opposite sex in general. Friends even more so.”
The warning in his voice could be a prelude to something far more dangerous, Sebastian knew. Not that the danger worried him; he was fairly confident he could at least match the other man in any fight. It was the sheer aggravation of time taken to do so that had resignation drawing a frown to his face.
Sebastian turned his full attention on Khalid then, tension beginning to prepare him to confront anyone daring to keep him from his siren.
“Stay away from her, De Loren,” Khalid ordered with dark menace. “Don’t make me tell you again.”
“Do you really want to deal with me, Mustafa?” Sebastian stared back at him, his determination to get to Alyssa tightening in each muscle of his body. “Because, trust me, tonight’s not a good night for that.”
“I would deal with you now or whenever I feel the need.” Khalid’s smile was cold, and Sebastian was certain he thought it was intimidating. “I said she’s been through enough. She does not need the pain you and Shane would no doubt bring her, because your hearts are not your own. I’ve checked into your pasts. Two men rumored to have lost their hearts as well as their souls, years before—”
“Don’t get between me and Alyssa, Mustafa.” Sebastian barely managed to keep the snarl in his voice from attracting undue attention. “You won’t like the consequences. I promise you that.”
Pushing past the far too nosy Khalid, he strode through the ballroom, following the woman his soul was still bound to.
He’d waited too damned long for this. The need for her was like a sickness in his gut, destroying him from the inside out.
It was bad enough Summer had made certain she forced the cousins to wait the full two years projected for Alyssa’s full recovery and tortured the hell out of them with texts and pictures. She’d been cruel. Pictures of Alyssa in her sexy little gowns, barely there bikinis … just the memory of them threatened his control.
They could wait until Alyssa’s first public appearance, she’d demanded when he and Shane had put their CIA ties behind them. Alyssa wasn’t well enough yet. And each time they’d tried to slip past the woman she’d turned into a damned bulldog blocking their way.
Until two months before.
Headed out, y’all. Good luck [Summer had texted them].
The text had come the day after she and Alyssa had left for an undisclosed location for vacation. At the same time Shane had been called away to Barcelona to give the details of Gregory Santiago’s death. Again. It seemed there had been some pages missing from his statement.
Sebastian had no doubt Summer was behind that as well.
Now Khalid thought he could stand in his way?
One more time, Sebastian thought, and the other man was going to have to back up those threats that kept spilling from his mocking lips.
Slipping past the French doors, Sebastian stared around the dimly lit gardens, searching for the slight, graceful figure of his dark siren. A satisfied smile curled at his lips when he saw the path Alyssa was taking. Narrower than the others, more dimly lit, and less used. The same path she’d taken eight years before that brought her to him and Shane.
It wasn’t winter, but neither was summer in full bloom. It was cool enough to be comfortable, a light breeze playing along the sheltering trees and ornamental shrubs, whispering of far too many years of hunger, too many years of pain, and the woman he was dying to hold once again.