A Secret to Forgive

by Tricia Saxby

  “Yes. Well, as do I, of course.”

  “Right,” Karen mumbled as Natasha unzipped the bag and pulled out the dress. She turned it slowly, inspecting each side with her eagle-eyed gaze.

  “Well, I’m done for the day.”

  “Yes, yes.” Natasha waved her hand as if to brush her away. “Go.”

  Would it be so hard for her to utter some thanks? Karen thought. Oh, who was she kidding? It would have been too hard for the almighty Ms. Vale to thank anyone for anything.

  Karen stopped at the door and turned around. “Have fun at the gala.” Was she a sucker for punishment?

  Natasha looked her in the eyes and smiled. “I intend to. Who wouldn’t with Mr. St. Clare as an escort?”

  Karen nodded and pretty much ran to the elevator.

  Leo was taking Natasha to the opening gala? The one she wasn’t good enough to attend after three months of working her tail off for the most impossible woman on the planet. And all he’d done was walk into Natasha’s office for an hour and he was in. The supposed photographer. The playboy who only had to bat his eyelashes and the world bowed to his bidding.

  Anger seethed through her as she dashed through the lobby, ignoring the doorman’s smile and nod as he held the door for her. The bitter wind greeted her, but she didn’t zip up her coat or cover her head with the fashionable scarf Anna had made for her as a going-away present. The cold sting soothed her heated skin as she started to pick up speed. She made it to the corner before colliding with a very solid wall of muscle.

  Karen looked up to see Leo staring down at her, his golden eyes flashing with concern. Her heart beat wildly as a memory of them rolling around in his dorm bed flew to the forefront of her mind.

  “What on earth? What are you doing?” He wrapped his arm around her and led her to shelter under a store canopy.

  Why did he continue to be such a…gentleman? “I…I…need to get home. I have a busy night.” Her teeth chattered like castanets when he removed his arm.

  “Where is your house? Are you walking?”

  “That is none of your business,” she spat, and she made to leave, but Leo grabbed her hand and pulled her back.

  “Did you and Natasha fight again?”

  He was on a first-name basis with her now. Unbelievable! “No, I didn’t get into a fight with my boss.”

  Leo stepped closer to block the wind that howled around them. When he spoke, his voice softened. “What’s got you all bothered?”

  Wouldn’t he like to know? His huge ego would have gotten a great boost.

  “Look, it’s been a rotten day. I want to get home, have a nice, hot bath, and curl up with a good book.”

  What did she see swirling in his gaze? Desire? She heard his short intake of breath before he lowered his head to hers. “I want to kiss you so badly,” he breathed.

  I want to kiss you too… What? No, no, no! She wasn’t going down that road again. Besides, who kissed one woman then took another on a date a few hours later? Leo St. Clare did.

  Karen placed her hand on his chest and pushed him away. “You’re feeling reminiscent. I get it. But I’m sure you’ll have many chances to get your kisses and more tonight.”

  Leo’s gaze intensified and then turned cold as a bright light flashed behind them.

  “Hey, Mr. St. Clare! Who’s the new beauty? Will you be taking her to the gala tonight?”

  Blinding white lights left black spots floating in front of her eyes. “What’s going on? Who was that?”

  Leo did his best to shield her but to no avail. The camera was almost in her face now, and panic started to turn in her belly.

  “Come on.” He barreled through the gathering crowd of gawkers, pulling Karen along as fast as he could. They headed for the street, cars honking their horns as they weaved between them and made it to the other side unscathed.

  “That’s the last time you can give me advice about crossing the street.”

  “Deal.”

  A limo pulled up next to them, and Leo opened the door and urged her inside. She scooted over so he could follow. The limo pulled away from the curb and joined the fast-moving traffic.

  Adrenaline and excitement emanated off him in waves. “Where do you live? I’ll get Robert to take us there.”

  The last thing she needed was Leo knowing where she lived. “Drop me off at the nearest subway entrance. I’ll be fine.”

  The look he sent her created butterflies in her stomach.

  “Where do you live?” he repeated.

  Nope, not going to happen. “Leo, what the hell is going on? Why was that guy asking about me?”

  “Paparazzo,” he grumbled as his gaze swept over her body, causing a flood of heat to rush down to her toes.

  He was that popular? Holy crap. Definitely not her cup of tea. Imagine trying to have any kind of private life. But wasn’t that the road she and Anna were trying to gear up for?

  “How did he find you?”

  “Well, I’m not exactly sure, but I’m guessing someone in the Vale Designs office.”

  Karen took instant offense. “Well, it wasn’t me.”

  “I don’t think so either.”

  “And you’ve been here for at least a day. Anyone on the street could have recognized you. Besides, no one else knew who you were except my boss.”

  Leo leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankles. The half grin he flashed her sent a ripple of awareness through her. “For someone who doesn’t like her job—”

  “I like my job.”

  “Then for someone who doesn’t like the people she works with, you sure are quick to come to their defense.”

  “I like my co-workers. My boss is another story.”

  “Ah, so you’re not defending Ms. Vale?”

  “Hell no!”

  Leo belted out a boisterous laugh. “Is she the culprit then?”

  “Wouldn’t put it past her. She wants the publicity as much for herself as for her clothing line.”

  “Such is life in the fashion industry, I’m afraid.”

  Karen nodded and turned her attention to the view outside. It appeared Robert was driving in circles, as the same downtown buildings passed by. And the one question, or maybe the one accusation she had, itched to be said out loud.

  “You’re going to the gala with my boss.” Her shoulders tensed as she continued to watch the scenery. She didn’t want to see the look on his face.

  Leo grunted. “So that’s what has your back up. I thought you didn’t care.”

  Karen spun to face him. “I don’t care!”

  “Liar,” he whispered. Her cheeks burned under his gaze.

  So much for him feeling any sort of guilt. Oh, who was she kidding? He had an in with the boss. Why wouldn’t he milk it for all it was worth?

  Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, and disgusted at having been rescued yet again, Karen knocked on the separation window to get Robert’s attention. “You can let me off here.”

  Robert pulled the limo over, and Karen wasted no time opening the door and stepping out. She crouched a bit to say good-bye and saw a fearful scowl on Leo’s face. Good! “I appreciated the company today. Have fun tonight.”

  Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes as she shut the door. The tinted window kept her from seeing his response, if any.

  You did the right thing. She repeated this mantra as she walked toward the subway station…but didn’t believe a single word.

  »»•««

  Morning had come too soon. With a large cup of coffee warming his hands, Leo leaned back against the limo’s soft leather seats and closed his eyes, willing his headache to go away. He’d instructed Robert to get him to Vale Designs as fast as possible. He was late—very late.

  Who on earth had planned a photo shoot for the morning after the opening gala?

  He’d had fun. It had been a great party but so superficial. The too-skinny models had worn outrageous outfits, with feathers being the theme of the night. Bright-colored peacocks on di
splay. The men had been no better, in makeshift suits and tuxes with pant legs too short and shirts left untucked. Did no one wear the classics anymore? If preferring jeans and a T-shirt for casual and dressing up like James Bond for fancy nights out made him unstylish then so be it.

  Perhaps his nonchalant approach to fashion made his photography so unique. Enough to get Natasha Vale to notice and hire him.

  Taking a sip of the steaming hot java, he enjoyed the combination of creamy bitterness on his tongue as he looked out the window at the scenery that zipped by. Natasha had been all business when the evening had started. They’d circled the room for introductions then taken their front-row seats to the fashion show that sported some of Natasha’s pieces. He’d instantly taken notice of a scarf—a blue-green shimmery mess.

  “What is it?” Natasha had asked.

  “That blue-green scarf. It doesn’t fit that look at all. I want to go up there and rip it off.”

  “Dammit.”

  “You didn’t approve that, did you?”

  “She told me,” Natasha had muttered under her breath.

  “What?”

  “My newest intern, Kara. She said the same thing you just did. I took offense, of course. Who is she to say anything to me about fashion?”

  Kara? “You mean Karen?”

  Natasha had fluttered her hand in front of her face. “Yes, yes, whatever.”

  “You’re angry she knew something you didn’t.”

  “Of course not—”

  “Then why did you take offense to Karen’s suggestion? Did you not hire her?”

  “Not personally…”

  “But someone in your company was impressed with her experience, meaning you’d be impressed. So, tell me again, what problem do you have with Karen?”

  Natasha had faced him so abruptly, the model who was walking down the catwalk had jumped back and burst into tears. He’d waved her on with his hand before giving Natasha his undivided attention.

  “The problem I have with Kara—”

  “Nat, her name is Karen.”

  “I know.”

  “Then what?”

  “She doesn’t belong here.”

  The limo came to a sudden stop, jolting Leo out of his reminiscence.

  “We’re here, Mr. St. Clare.”

  “Thank you, Robert.” Leo swung the door open and stepped onto the sidewalk. The usual mid-day chaos of endless people going somewhere greeted him and put his already frazzled nerves on edge. Taking a deep breath, he entered the building for his first swimsuit photo shoot, a favor for Nat.

  Hoping for the same adrenaline rush he craved when racing, Leo entered the Vale Designs foyer from the elevator and absorbed his surroundings. The chaos from outside had spilled inside. Lights, umbrella deflectors, backdrops, stages, and racks of clothing filled up one part of the space. The rest was taken up by makeshift makeup stations, a buffet of salads and fruits, and of course the many stylists, each catering to a starved model.

  It wasn’t until his gaze settled on Karen that his heart raced. She was trying to get a corset tied up on a model who looked like she’d snap in two if the corset were any tighter.

  “It’s good enough,” the model gasped in between tugs of material.

  Karen was out of breath as well. “It’s never good enough. You know better.”

  Interesting thing to say, especially when Karen’s voice lacked luster. What was her role here as Natasha’s intern? Not a morale booster, apparently.

  “May I help?”

  Karen turned at his question. Her eyes lit up with joy, but then it was gone. Imagined. “Oh. You finally decided to join us.”

  “Better late than never.” His smile disappeared at her void stare.

  “Ms. Allen?” the red-haired model moaned.

  “It needs to be tighter.”

  “What on earth are you making her wear? A condom?”

  Karen’s lips turned up slightly at the corners. “Oh, something way worse.”

  The girl already appeared too pale and now looked positively gray. “What is it?”

  “The nude suit.”

  Leo’s brows arched with surprise. “Excuse me?”

  Karen huffed her frustration before handing the corset’s ribbons to him. “Make this as tight as you can. I’ll be right back.”

  He watched her go. The natural sway of her backside had him thinking of all the wonderful things he’d love—

  “Owww!” He’d forgotten he had the silk strings in his hands.

  “Sorry. Are you okay? Here, let me loosen that a bit.”

  Where on earth had Karen gone? Better question: where was he supposed to be?

  “Mr. St. Clare?”

  “Yes?”

  A young woman with a brown ponytail and glasses ran toward him. “Did you want to take some sample shots before we start?”

  “That’d be great. Thanks.”

  The girl’s cheeks lit up to a bright pink. “Okay. Follow me.”

  He had a nice little set-up in the far corner of the studio. The backdrop was of a beautiful Hawaiian beach. It was a far cry from the real thing, but it’d do. He’d have the models standing and maybe lying on a towel. And props—he needed props. Sun hats, sunglasses, wraps, strappy sandals…

  “A romance novel.”

  He knew it was her, and the realization she was standing behind him had a rush of pure lust running through him.

  “Do you have one to recommend?”

  “Well, I can grab the one I’m reading from my bag.”

  Leo couldn’t take his eyes off her. She wasn’t dressed up, like yesterday. Today she wore a pair of dark jeans with tan ankle boots and a baggy, light beige T-shirt that said “Twine Ball or Bust.” Her eyes were lightly shadowed, and her lips had a hint of pink color on them. She looked so wholesome, so confident.

  “What? Do I have something on my face?” she said.

  “No. I’m impressed with your suggestion. Why a book?”

  “Not any book, a romance. It’s a beach accessory almost every woman has in her bag.”

  “I’ll use your book. It’s a great idea.”

  “Thanks.” Her cheeks flushed from his praise, something she was apparently lacking from the one person who mattered the most to her career.

  As he waited for Karen to return with her romance novel, he moved props around and took some shots from different angles, all the while thinking back on what Natasha had said about Karen.

  “What do you mean she doesn’t belong here?” he’d asked her.

  “She knows nothing of what fashion is today. I don’t know if I can help her.”

  “It’s your job to teach her. This industry is killer.”

  “Her background is in business. She should stay with what she knows.”

  “She apparently wants to be in New York’s fashion world, Nat. Why can’t you show her the ropes without being, well…a diva?”

  Natasha had turned her attention back to the runway. “Perhaps. Fashion was not easy for me. It shouldn’t be easy for her.”

  “Ah. So, you’re teaching her all the hard lessons you had to endure.”

  “Yes.”

  “Shouldn’t you be molding her, shaping her, preparing her for this double-edged world called fashion? Helping her fulfil her dream, not give up on it.”

  “She believes we are equals.”

  “Did she say that?”

  “No…and she cannot keep her mouth shut.”

  Leo had smiled. She’d never been able to.

  “I cannot work with someone like that.”

  “You mean you won’t.”

  Karen’s muffled laugh interrupted his thoughts. She handed the book to him. “It’s quite good and recommended on Goodreads.”

  A pocket-sized book with a generic cover. Perfect.

  And he had a great idea. “While we wait for the model to get here, why don’t you sit on the stool so I can take some sample shots and check lighting?”

  “Umm…no, that�
��s okay.” Her eyes surveyed the room, searching for the model. “I don’t do pictures.”

  “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

  Karen’s brows arched in question as she frowned.

  “But more professional than fun. I really need to check the lighting…please?”

  She nodded and stood in front of the beach backdrop. “Where do you want me?”

  He let that question linger between them for a moment before answering. “Sit on the stool and put on the shades and hat.”

  After a few shots and poses, Leo noticed her loosening up. Even having some fun. Her smile lit up their corner. Her whole demeanor changed as she posed serious, then funny, then naughty. If he hadn’t had built-in restraint, he would’ve had to hide behind the wide-brimmed hat.

  “Okay, on the towel with the book.”

  Karen lay on her belly, feet up and crossed at the ankles. She opened the book to her bookmarked page and read. The pose was so real and so now Leo forgot to snap the shot. Instead, he watched her become so absorbed in what she was doing, it was like she was alone in her living room, relaxed and happy.

  “Mr. St. Clare. So sorry I’m late. Stupid taxi got stuck in traffic.”

  Leo held up a hand to silence the model who’d arrived. “Are you ready to go, or do you still need makeup?”

  “I’m ready,” she squeaked.

  “Good. Grab the hat and sunglasses and go stand in this corner.” He turned back to Karen, but she was gone.

  Dammit.

  Chapter Three

  As Karen made her way to each station checking on things, making sure everyone had their props and costumes and of course their coffees, her gaze kept drifting to Leo in his tucked-away corner of the studio. He commanded such presence and respect from the models he’d been assigned to work with she hadn’t had to go and fix anything. To her annoyance, this saddened her.

  But why? Wasn’t she mad at him? He’d entered her life again like nothing had happened between them. And she might have been able to deal with that and tell him to go where the sun don’t shine. But no. She worked with him. Or for him? No. She would not work for her ex-lover. The man who had left without a word and humiliated her when she’d had to make the walk of shame from his dorm room and out the front door in front of all his friends—alone.