Page 2 of Forbidden Sins

He hesitates for a second longer, but he seems to take it as a command—which I hoped he would. He glides toward the ladder that leads out of the pool, and the moment he pulls himself upout of the water, my mouth goes dry and every other thought flees in an instant.

He looks like a fucking Greek god. Like the statues I’ve seen in museums. His shoulders and chest are broad and corded with muscle, just like his arms, veins running along the muscles in his forearms. Tattoos wind their way down his body from the sides of his neck, down his arms, chest, and back, stopping just above the cleanly cut lines of his abs. Water is dripping down his chest and arms, rivulets running into those ab lines, sliding into the deep V cut of muscle on either side of his hips that leads into the shockingly small pair of swim trunks he’s wearing?—

Swim trunks that are clinging to what looks like an impressively large shape just beneath—especially considering the fact that he was just in the water.

I’ve never seen a man nude in real life. I’ve looked up pictures and snuck a few porn videos—I have access to the Internet and the good sense to delete my browser history afterwards—but staring at what’s between Sebastian’s thighs, I’m gripped with a sudden, aching need to see what it would look like in reality.

Sebastian clears his throat and my gaze shoots up to his face, mine flaming red. I canfeelmyself blushing, heat running up from my throat to my cheeks and all the way up to my hairline, and I think I see a faint flush color his tanned cheekbones as well.

“I’ll—I’ll meet you outside,” I stammer, and pivot on my heel, ponytail flying as I all but run for the door to the gym.

The air-conditioned room feels frigid compared to the humidity of the natatorium—which was warm for more than one reason, I think. I rub my palms over my burning cheeks, embarrassment washing over me. Sebastian caught me staring at his?—

I close my eyes tightly, swallowing hard.We’ll just pretend like it never happened,I tell myself.When he comes back out, I’llact normal, and it’ll be like I never saw him getting out of the pool dripping wet and?—

“Estella?”

I turn swiftly around at the sound of Sebastian saying my name, knowing my face is probably still tomato-red. He’s standing just inside the gym, dressed now in a pair of loose basketball shorts and a workout tee, sneakers on, and his dark, wet hair looking as if he’s run his hand through it several times. “Yes?”

Despite my best efforts, my voice comes out in a squeak.

Sebastian’s cheekbones still look slightly flushed. “You said you wanted to go on a run?” he asks calmly, and I nod, a little too hard.

“Yep! A run. Just around the path that leads around the back of the estate and to the stables, maybe two miles or so, nothing too strenuous.” I clear my throat. “I mean—just in case you’re not up for it, after the swimming, and whatever else you were doing… for a workout. Whatever other workout you already did.” I clamp my mouth shut, well aware that I’m now rambling.

“I can go as long as you need me to.” Sebastian’s eyes widen slightly the moment he says it, as if he realizes immediately just how inappropriate that sounds. “I mean—I’m fine, princess. I can manage a couple-mile run.” He gives me a lopsided grin, running his hand through his hair again. “I’d hope I could, anyway. I’m not much good to you if lifting a few weights and swimming a handful of laps means I can’t chase a man down afterward if someone comes after you.”

I roll my eyes. “Like you’ve ever had to worry about that.” In the three years that Sebastian’s been my bodyguard, the most dangerous thing that’s happened is him having to ward off overly interested guys at the campus coffee shop when I was in college. We’ve never actually run into any of the situations that my father worried about when he assigned a personal bodyguardto me—his enemies targeting me, someone trying to kidnap me for ransom.

“Still, I should be able to do my job.” Sebastian shrugs. “Ready to go?”

I nod, grateful to have the embarrassing moment from a few minutes ago over. Still, I can’t shake the image of those swim trunks soaked through, clinging to the long, thick shape of?—

“Christ.” Sebastian looks around as we step out of the gym into the hallway and nearly run into two maids carrying boxes big enough that they have to look around them instead of over. “What’s going on?” He frowns, looking down the hall to where there’s more staff hurrying to and fro, carrying boxes and long strings of lights and other things that I can’t quite make out.

I flush red for the second time this morning. “My birthday party.” I press my lips together, twisting them to one side. “Dad’s going all out for my twenty-first.”

Sebastian glances at me. “Your actual birthday is Monday, isn’t it?”

I feel that spark of warmth again at the knowledge that he remembered it. He doesn’t have any need to, really—I shouldn’t care if my bodyguard remembers my birthday, any more than I should care if the cook does, or Bruce, or anyone else who works in the household. That’s what my father would say, anyway.

But it means something to me that he did remember.

“Yeah.” I bite my lip, glancing back down the hall at the bustle and chaos that I can hear from the adjoining rooms. “But the big party is tonight. Everyone’s invited.”

Sebastian smirks. “Byeveryone,I assume that means everyone important to your father, and no one important to you?”

“A few people important to me.” I make a face as we walk toward the kitchen. “I got to invite a few of my friends from college. One of them even RSVP’d. I guess for the others, a stuffyparty at a New York mansion wasn’t their idea of how they wanted to spend their Saturday night.”

It’s not really the way I’d prefer to spend mine, either, if I’m being honest. The party will be full of my father’s friends and business associates and people I barely know, and while I don’t want to sound ungrateful for the celebration, I’m going to spend most of it smiling and nodding and pretending to have fun while making sure to not sip too much champagne and get tipsy by accident. It’s not a birthday party so much as it’s a social event for my father’s image—and possibly a way for him to introduce me to the sons of those business associates.

I wince at the thought.That, too, is something I have no interest in. I’d much prefer to be curled up in my room in the soft pajamas that I love, with a glass of champagne that I can sip on at my leisure and a good book or an episode of the latest TV show I’ve been watching on my tablet. At most, I might enjoy going out to a fancy dinner and then coming home. A huge party where I’m the center of attention isn’t my cup of tea, really.

Sebastian chuckles. “Well, I’ll be spending my Saturday night wherever you are, princess. I just go where I’m told.”

I swallow hard, not looking at him as I push forward into the kitchen. This kind of banter is normal between us—the teasing, the nicknames—but it feels charged suddenly, full of innuendos that I’ve never really noticed before. Like seeing him come out of the pool, his muscular body dripping wet, shifted something between us.

I’m not sure that I wanted it to shift. As much as I enjoyed the view, I almost wish I could go back and never have gone into the natatorium at all, just so that I didn’t feel this way. It’s confusing, especially when I know that fantasizing about Sebastian can only damage the comfortable friendship that exists between us. I try not to.

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