The Price of Winning: London Calling Book Four (13 page)

“Ready?” His methods had worked. Her face was serious now, maybe even slightly alarmed. “It’s okay, Madeleine. I won’t hurt you.”
 

She smiled, a little shakily. “I know. I just don’t know what to expect.”

“All you have to do is follow my lead.”
 

A brief hesitation, then she nodded.

Sebastian began doing jumping jacks. He almost laughed at her expression, but he was serious about training her in self-defense. He reached a count of two before she joined in.

After about five minutes, she was breathing hard and a fine sheen of sweat coated her skin. Sebastian had a sudden desire to reach for her, to put his lips on her throat and taste the salt.
 

Dazed, he shook off the thought. He was losing his grip. Her lithe body and fiery beauty had captivated him, making him lose sight of the awful events that brought her back with him to England. Sebastian couldn’t afford to forget why she was here and what his responsibility was to her.
 

He motioned for her to continue while he walked to the wall and picked up two heavy foam rectangular pads. He placed them on the floor beside her then clicked his fingers for her to stop.

“Don’t snap your fingers at me.” She was huffy, pink-faced, and panting. Her glorious hair was scraped back into a ponytail, where it curled wildly down her back.
 

She was utterly gorgeous. And completely out of his reach.

“A little less talk and a little more action, Price.” He dropped his knee on one of the pads and delivered two quick punches before hopping to switch knees. “Get down here and do fifty of these with me.”

He thought he saw a glimmer of spite in her eyes, but she did as he asked. He continued to put her through the paces, but did all the moves himself too. After his workout this morning, he’d be lucky if he could move tomorrow.

He made her do pushups then sit-ups, planks then V-ups, where she lifted the foam pad between her feet while sitting up to make an upward V with her arms and legs.

“I guess that’s why they call it a V-up, hey?” She laughed after he explained and demonstrated. She was gasping for breath, laying flat on the ground while she watched.

“Quit stalling. I’m on to you.” He waited for her to do the first one, noting that her arms and legs were trembling with strain.

“I don’t know, Price. You seem to be pretty out of shape. I don’t think ballet is cutting it.”
 

She glowered at him then collapsed back to the mat. “Bas, why don’t you shut up.” She rolled her head on the mat to eye him. “Don’t I get to punch you or something?”

He laughed. While her beauty was enough to take his breath away, it was the woman behind the face who’d captured him. He couldn’t remember laughing so much since he was a kid.

Not since Poppy.

His humor died away. He had no right to be laughing and feeling carefree. It wasn’t fair.

Poppy never had the chance to grow up. She couldn’t laugh or feel anything because she’d died.

Sebastian had sworn to help her, too.
 

He looked at Madeleine. She was staring at him, as if his face had already said too much. He hoisted her up and tried to ignore how she felt beneath his hands.

“Okay. Fair is fair. You’re going to get to hit me.” He hoped she walloped him. The pain would knock some sense back into him and keep him focused on the promises he’d made.

He’d killed the mood, he could tell. She frowned, biting her lip.

“Bas, I don’t really want to hit you.” She blinked, worrying her hands.

He chuckled, but it sounded false even to his own ears. “Trust me, you will at some point. I’ll let you put one down on deposit.”

She puffed out her cheeks then blew out a breath. “Okay. If you’re sure?”
 

“I’m sure.” He spread his arms wide, motioning to his body. “Baby, you can’t think you’ll actually hurt me?”

She grimaced. “I guess not. Um, tell me what you want me to do.”

He went over the drill with her verbally. She’d be learning a classic hair grab defense. Sebastian figured it was the most useful thing she could learn in one day, considering her mane of fiery hair.

He wanted to plunge his hands into it just to see if it was as soft as it appeared. He wanted to bury his face into it, see if it smelled as good as the rest of her.
 

She faced away from him, tense for the maneuver. Bas reached down and grabbed a mass of her hair and tugged.

She followed the drill, leaning backward rather than pulling away. As her body bowed, she twisted and threw hard punches at his chest and abdomen. One leg swept out to nail him in the shin.

Sebastian wasn’t sure what happened next.

One second his brain was registering the fact that her coppery hair was even softer than he’d imagined. The next, he was winded and lying on the mat, staring up into her shocked face.

She must have seen he was okay, because she quickly recovered and dropped to the floor beside him. She kept it together for about two seconds before she erupted in deep belly laughs that shook her entire body. On and on she went, clutching her ribs until mirthful tears leaked down her cheeks.

This close he could see how green her eyes were, and how they tilted up a little at the sides. Even hot and sweaty she smelled like a wild English garden, heady with roses. Training with her, he already knew her skin was like silk.

She was everywhere, imprinting herself on his skin and DNA. Before he could think, he looped his hand around her wrist and tugged to topple her down on him. She was still laughing, slightly breathless.
 

“You got me,” he murmured. The air seemed heavier and weighted.
 

He closed his eyes as Madeleine’s mouth came to hover over his. Their breaths mingled, and a lock of her hair dropped down to tickle his face.
 

His eyes snapped open. He gripped her arms, holding her away from him.

If her lips touched his, he knew he was lost. He was barely holding on as it was. “I think that’s enough for today.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, her lips pressed together. She nodded, and he twisted his torso to sit her beside him. Within seconds, she’d scrambled to her feet.

“You’re just sore because I won.” Her voice was too loud and the humor forced. “I’ll take it easier on you next time, Payne.”

Sebastian stood, brushing off his pants to give his hands something to do besides reach for her again. “Don’t worry. I’ll be better prepared next time.”

She smiled crookedly at him, then bundled up her towel and left. Sebastian dropped his chin to his chest and waited for his heart to stop thudding.

Honestly, he was beginning to believe Madeleine Price would be the death of him.

***

Madeleine practiced pliés until her thighs burned in protest. It was late afternoon, and she was alone in the downstairs gymnasium, dressed in workout leggings and her halter neck bra top. Unlike the gym at the house on Jersey, this one had no skylights to allow the sun to bathe the wood floor. Small egress windows dotted the upper part of the outside wall but didn’t allow for much light.

It would have been dreary except for the LED lighting Sebastian had installed to mimic natural sunlight. Today, it only seemed like a poor comparison.

She considered venturing outside to practice yoga in the gardens. It would be a perfect place, normally, except she was trying to remain unseen.

It wasn’t that she was hiding exactly. She and Sebastian had continued her training every morning since she almost kissed him.

And every day it got a little harder.

He was back to being distant and polite again. She couldn’t even complain about it this time because he was so goddamned chivalrous. He was considerate and gentlemanly. They had dinner most evenings, sometimes at Club Hobart. During her first visit she’d been nervous about going, having heard from Dominic how formal it was.
 

At one time she wouldn’t have thought a thing about it. She’d been part of an elite social set with unrestricted access to places just like the club. But she’d gotten out of practice in the years since.
 

Sebastian put her at ease by introducing her to a handful of employees. Everyone was warm and friendly, and she relaxed without feeling overwhelmed. Now she could practically consider herself a regular.

She’d even sat at the tables one night to sharpen her poker-playing skills.

Sebastian had stayed by her side, handsome in his charcoal gray suit. At one point he’d taken off his tie and pocketed it before undoing the top two buttons of his crisp, white shirt.
 

He’d looked cool and sophisticated while she nearly fell off her chair from getting a glimpse of his hair-roughened chest. She’d lost three hands before getting a grip on her wayward libido.

Sebastian had just smiled, unruffled and unperturbed, as he calmly stacked more chips in front of her.
 

Lost in her thoughts, Madeleine pirouetted across the parquet floor. She nearly stumbled when the music was abruptly shut off.

Sebastian stood by the sound system with his arms crossed. “Really, Price? You’ve gone back to ballet?”

She was used to his teasing by now, knowing it was one of the many techniques he used to keep her at a distance. He thought by talking to her like a sister, she’d fall into step and play the role.

She nearly laughed.

“I’ve never left ballet. I happen to love ballet, especially the Russians.” She stretched, bending from the waist to touch the floor. Her thighs were screaming, and she realized she just didn’t have the energy for Sebastian right now. She’d play it his way, hope he got the message. “Turn that music back on, Bas.”

He tilted his head, studying her. “Why weren’t you a dancer?”

She shrugged. “I wasn’t good enough. I was great at acting, so that’s where I put my efforts. Plus, ballet murders your feet.”

He strolled closer, eyeing the toes peeking out from her tights. Her toenails winked bright fuchsia in the artificial light. One side of his mouth tilted up. “I’m glad you saved them. You have beautiful arches.”

She felt a blush stain her cheeks before she realized he was taunting her. It was so uncharacteristic of him lately that she beamed back, thumping him in the shoulder. “You monster. How dare you make fun of my feet?”

He grinned, a rare sight. “You want to fight?”

She paused, tapping her index finger against her mouth before slowly circling him in mock consideration. She didn’t know what put Sebastian in this lighthearted mood, but she’d be damned if she questioned it. She missed this part of their friendship—the flirty banter and playful competitiveness.
 

But she also missed the man, the one who could make her toes curl with a look. Maybe, if she played things right, she could get him to notice her as a woman rather than a responsibility.

She sidled up behind him. She heard his breath hiss, saw his shoulders tense up.

Perhaps he wasn’t as immune as he pretended.

She dragged her finger up his spine, noticing the way he couldn’t quite suppress a shiver. She cupped her palm around his shoulder and tugged, but he remained stubbornly in place.

There was nothing else for it, then.

She clapped her other hand over the first and pulled sharply at a downward angle. Caught off guard, he stumbled but didn’t go down. Madeleine hopped back to deliver a stunning roundhouse kick to his abdomen.

His breath whooshed out but still he remained upright. She set her jaw and lunged forward while bending low, catching him around the knees.
 

She didn’t plan for him to fall forward.
 

He did, knocking the breath out of her while she lay crumpled up beneath him. His whole body was shaking, and a deep rumble of laughter came out of him, followed by more.

Madeleine couldn’t resist him when he was like this. She joined in, swatting at whatever she could reach. “Get off me, you big brute.”

He collapsed, flat on his back, still chortling. “What the hell kind of move was that, Maddy?”

No one had ever called her that except her parents. Her eyes stung with tears, but she rapidly blinked them away. She willed her mind to remain in the moment with Sebastian. Besides, she liked the way his British accent made her nickname sound.
 

She propped herself on his chest. “Are you criticizing my technique? Because I learned everything from you.” She stared at his face, memorizing the bump in his nose and the scar along his jaw. He had a little dent in his chin, not enough to be called a dimple. She pressed her fingertip in it, liking the feel of his whiskers grazing her skin.

She knew he shaved twice a day whenever he knew he’d be out in the evening. Absently, she imagined how his rough skin would feel if it chafed her breasts.
 

Her eyes flew to his. They looked dilated, blacker than usual. Warmth began to pool low in Madeleine’s belly.

With one hand at her nape, Sebastian brought her head down. His lips were on hers before she could think about what changed his mind.

And then she couldn’t think at all.
 

With one hand plunged in her hair, he feasted on her. Her lips parted as his tongue pressed the seam of her mouth, allowing him entry. He tasted sexy and sinful, like the most forbidden fruit. She moaned into his mouth, wanting more.

He shifted his hips, and she settled more firmly over him, her breasts pressing into his chest. She knew her nipples were pushing through the clingy black fabric of her bra. Sebastian reached down and slipped the fingers of one hand under the elastic.

She moaned, thrusting her breast into his palm. He thumbed the hard point until she arched above him. With his thumb and forefinger, he pinched lightly.

She tore her lips from his, gasping, then fastened her mouth on his neck. She sucked, tasting the saltiness of his sweat. Through his pants, she felt his engorged shaft buck against her.
 

He spread his legs, and she settled into the V, but her position provided little relief. Bas flexed his back and rolled, taking her with him. Cool air caressed her stomach before his weight fell over her.