“Great.” I dug around the roots of the tomato plant I was working with. “How long do you think it’ll take to get them?”
“Some of them today. Some might take a little longer.” His weathered skin crinkled as he spoke, but his dark brown eyes retained a youthful sparkle. “Got big plans?”
I shrugged and pulled the tomato up gently and re-potted in a larger terra cotta. “Just some experiments. I want to do my own drawings and studies on the exotic varieties. The more common ones, I’ll use for hybridization.” I paused. “You wouldn’t be interested in helping me escape, would you?”
“No. I’m not supposed to.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “Has he hurt you any?”
“If I said yes, would you help me?”
“I would, but I’d hate for us to start off on the wrong foot with a lie like that.” He folded the paper and stuffed it into the pocket of his denim coveralls. “And it would be a lie, wouldn’t it?”
“Other than the obvious mental and emotional damage …” I wanted to chew on my thumbnail, but my hands were covered in dirt. “No, he hasn’t physically hurt me, but I still shouldn’t be held captive here.”
“No, you shouldn’t. I agree with you there.” Despite his words, he didn’t seem inclined to do a damn thing to help me. He patted the pocket where he’d put my list. “If this is all you need, I best get going.”
I returned my attention to the plant and ignored the useless sting of tears in my eyes. No one here would lift a finger. I was on my own. The urge to cry eased as Gerry’s footsteps faded toward the back of the greenhouse. Though no one would help me, something on my list would allow me to help myself.
“What are you thinking?”
I jumped as Sebastian’s voice came from one of the nearby roof supports. The speaker must have been wired inside it. I placed the tomato into the pot, then poured dirt around it to fill. “I’m thinking it’ll take me all morning to re-pot the tomatoes, then all afternoon for me to do the complete taxonomy on everything else in here.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
I looked around, wanting to see the camera as I spoke, which was ridiculous. Maybe it was better if I didn’t know and just continued with ghostly Sebastian. “Now you’re an expert on the time it takes to pot and classify plants?”
“No, that part was true. I’m simply saying that wasn’t what you were thinking of.”
I pressed the dark soil around the base of the plant. “Too bad you don’t have a camera in my mind, huh?”
“What I wouldn’t give for such a thing.”
“Psycho,” I whispered as I moved on to the next plant.
“I can read your lips.” His voice dropped lower. “I think about your lips quite a bit, actually. How soft they are. The way you taste. How your tongue is almost as curious as my own.”
“Don’t you have some dirty deals to do?” I wiped a stray hair from my face with a clean section of forearm. “I’m busy here.”
“I have a meeting in five minutes that I’m looking forward to.”
“Why so excited?” I threw in some extra manure at the bottom of the terra cotta pot. “You planning the annual seal clubbing retreat?”
His laugh filled the space around me, electrifying it with unexpected mirth. Something about it warmed me. I couldn’t stop the faint smile that crept across my lips, so I tipped my head down so he wouldn’t see.
“Thank you for your beautiful smile. I’ll carry it with me for the rest of the day.” He sighed. “I’m afraid I’ll be busy until six or so. And then we’re having company this evening.”
I paused my work. “Company? Who?”
“My father.”
I tried to keep a steady tone. “He knows you have me locked up here?”
“I tell Dad everything.”
“And he’s okay with it?” I almost snapped the stalk of the next tomato plant.
“I wouldn’t quite say that. But he’s learned to let me do my thing, even if that thing isn’t exactly—”
“Legal, moral, ethical, fair, sane?”
His low laugh was darker this time. “I was going to say reasonable.”
“He’s an enabler.”
“Of sorts, yes.”
“Great.” My deadpan was still as fresh as my gardening skills.
“I must go, but I’ll be back soon.”
“Take your time.”
“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about your little maneuver this morning. That will require a bit more of an intensive discussion.”
I lifted my arm toward the sky and extended my middle finger.
His laughter rolled through the rays of sun. “Soon.”
23
Sebastian
I strode away from the helicopter and toward the library wing of the house. My heartburn had intensified each moment I was away from her. Link’s phone call to the home office of “Dr. Williams” had put me on edge. Timothy had posed as a research assistant and reassured the dunce that Camille was fine, just hard at work along with Dr. Williams. Apparently, my texts had raised suspicion, so I needed to up my game to throw them off.