Free Secret Confessions: Sydney Housewives--Willow by Christina Phillips Page B

having his kitchen renovated? Why didn’t she know about that? She took a deep breath. If any of her girlfriends had turned up with the same request, she wouldn’t think twice about saying yes. How many times over the last three years had she told Seb he was just like a girlfriend to her? She wasn’t sure he’d ever believed her, but here was her chance to prove she meant it. Even though she didn’t.
    â€œOf course you can stay.” She took a couple of backward steps towards the hall. “I’ll ask Mrs D to fix the spare room for you.” But which spare room? The one on the ground floor with its own private deck, or the one next to her own bedroom that shared her balcony?
    ***
    Seb kept the laconic smile on his face until Willow disappeared from view. Then he heaved a sigh and raked his hand through his hair.
    Stage one of his plan was in place. Now all he had to do was convince her they belonged together. This week was his last ditch attempt to make things work between them. He’d tried everything over the last three years, but clearly subtly was overrated. He had to make Willow face his past and accept him, faults and all. She might be able to carry on forever with them being nothing more than friends, but it was driving him insane.
    He wanted it all, or they had nothing. How much longer could she hold one stupid juvenile mistake against him?
    What horny twenty year old wouldn’t have fucked the glamorous socialite, Amber Fairview, when she handed it to them on a gold leaf plate? For a week he’d met her after the rest of the tradies working on her bathroom remodelling had gone home. For a week he’d enjoyed seeing how the other half lived. And not once had he dreamed Amber, eighteen years his senior, had a grown daughter. The only photos of Willow around the palatial mansion had been of her as a child. He’d barely glanced at them.
    And then he’d met her.
    It had taken him six years before he’d found the nerve to contact her again.
    â€œIf you’d like to follow me, sir.” Mrs Duval appeared in the doorway and he grabbed his luggage and followed her up the stairs. He’d liked the house from the moment he’d helped Willow move in a couple of years ago. It wasn’t a mansion but there was no mistaking the quiet affluence that permeated the sandstone walls; and the location and established grounds that led down to the reserve were priceless.
    As he passed the open door to her office he glanced inside. Willow designed her exclusive jewellery from home and her handmade pieces were coveted by the rich and famous for red carpet events. Then again, Willow had contacts that other designers could only lust over. She’d spent half her childhood growing up in Hollywood until Amber and her movie star husband divorced.
    His gaze snagged on the delicate gold phoenix figurine he’d given her for Christmas. It was on her desk, in pride of place. He knew she liked it. She’d been thrilled when she opened it. But despite tracing her finger all over the exquisite piece he had specially commissioned, she completely missed the significance of the curlicue swirls the phoenix stood on.
    He tightened his grip on his holdall as he followed Mrs Duvall into the spare bedroom. For three years he had played by Willow’s rules.
    Now it was time she played by his.
    ***
    It was almost an hour before Willow emerged from her bedroom at the other end of the balcony. Forearms leaning on the timber rail, he turned and watched her slowly make her way towards him.
    Her chestnut hair was pulled back into a ponytail, enhancing her aristocratic cheekbones and big hazel eyes that had haunted him from the day they’d met. Her skin was flawless thanks to her genetic heritage, and if she was wearing any make-up he couldn’t see it.
    â€œAll settled in?” She rested one hand on the railing next to his and her scent drifted in the warm air, a subtle hint of