But he paced the vast, empty space until the puppy got too tired to follow his every step. He sank onto the sofa and scooped the little guy up. The pup immediately curled into a ball on his stomach and began to snooze.
Leon had no such respite. He’d done everything he could for Ettie. He’d given her a far better home. He’d looked after her health and freed her from that financial burden, he’d recognised her worth at work. He’d had her well-being foremost in his mind. What more did she want?
But he hadn’t done everything.
The inner voice repeated it—over and over. From a whisper it strengthened in volume and insistence until it was ringing incessantly in his head.
The void she’d left was huge. She’d taken more than he’d realised.
The baby. Right? It was just the baby. He reasoned his way through the bereft sensation. She was taking away his child. And with that recognition his anger returned in full force. He railed inwardly at her stubborn selfishness.
He’d been told so often that people would only want things from him. Money, mostly. Money and the kind of “doors open” access his privilege engendered. And that wisdom had proven true often enough in the past. But not this time.
He’d given everything to her. At least everything that was easy to give—his money, his success, his home. What was harder was what was hidden. What he didn’t even want to face himself. The security she craved wasn’t financial. What she’d said she wanted—needed—was emotional. And that was impossible. He didn’t believe in love. He didn’t even know what it was. Yet with every day that dragged, that bereft feeling only built a bigger and bigger hole inside. It wasn’t the thought of the baby at all.
He put a security team back on her. He initiated all the paperwork he could think of to secure both her rights and his, ditching that damned contract he’d drawn up over that weekend to try to hold the complications at bay. But three interminable days later, he still couldn’t sleep at night. Worry nagged.
He hated thinking of her being alone. He hated remembering her words. But they echoed relentlessly—a melody to his own berating beat—dragging in loss, lust, unbearable loneliness…and at the heart of that hideous mix grew an intolerable, impossible yearning.
I love you, Leon.
It was the first time in his life someone had said that to him and actually meant it. He knew, to his bones, how much she thought she’d meant it. She barely knew him but she believed her words. He’d been unable to. And he’d been right because in the next second she’d snatched them back again by rejecting everything he’d offered. By rejecting him. She didn’t love him enough to stay. She didn’t even want his damn money. She was so determined to be independent, all because he couldn’t what—wail on about his past? Open up to her? Love her?
Didn’t she understand that he couldn’t? He didn’t know how.
He knew she wouldn’t deny him access to his child. She’d just denied him access to her. She’d taken her company, her attention, her presence from him. And somehow that was the worst. He couldn’t stand it. Nor could he fathom why it was so horrendous.
So he did what he’d always done: he fought for control. He isolated himself. He worked round the clock. And he avoided all contact with anyone at Cavendish House. They’d be Team Ettie all the way. He didn’t blame them. He understood their loyalty.
He also knew Ettie needed to be loved. That was why she worked for everyone—she ached for any kind of affection. She didn’t realise that all those people cared about her without her having to work for it; it was because of the person she was—sunny, generous, interested, enthusiastic about everything in life…
And he’d been stupid enough to tell her he didn’t believe in love.
He sat on the floor of his home and rubbed the puppy’s ears and finally admitted to himself that he was a coward. More than that, he was a jerk. He’d not accepted what she’d offered. He’d not even acknowledged the truth of it.
The fourth morning it was worse. He couldn’t stand it any more. The isolation and gaping hole inside widened with every angry second that ticked by and today it was an actual physical pain. And that was when it finally hit—it wasn’t rage he felt. It was hurt.
Deep, incurable hurt. He was so vulnerable. She’d prised layers of protection and defence open and then she’d struck him hard.
Not even the unconditional trust of the little puppy soothed him. The dog just made it worse, because he made caring—adoration—seem easy. Not to Leon it wasn’t. He closed his eyes and leaned against the cool window overlooking his immaculate garden.
Ettie had given him the smallest, tantalising glimpse of something he’d never imagined. When she’d said she was in love with him, he’d had that heart-busting vision of a small family filled with fun and laughter and passion. A family that was together. The kind of family he’d never had.
In his childhood family there’d been no honesty. No laughter. No love. Nothing but cold cruelty from his mother. And when he’d tried to talk to his father, the older man had shut down. Dismissed his truth. Silenced him.
But hadn’t Leon just done the exact same thing to Ettie? Hadn’t he shut down and closed off contact? He’d refused to even acknowledge the problem, let alone try to resolve it.
While he’d silenced her, Ettie had never silenced him. She’d let him speak. She’d wanted him to speak more. She hadn’t judged him for his words, she’d just accepted him.
Bile rose in his throat. He did not want to be like his father. And he sure as hell refused to be like his mother. Why had he thought any of what that woman had wanted was okay?
Never show weakness. Not anger. Not fear. No tears. No laughter.
Even when he’d learned to bury his emotions, his mother hadn’t loved him. Nothing he could’ve done could have changed that. She’d taught him all the wrong things. And he’d been so busy fighting for those tangible signs of success, he’d not stopped to see how much he was missing. How much his mother had actually won—because here he was, living a life so isolated, he might as well be back in that cupboard she’d locked him in.
Ettie was the one who was right. Expressing emotions wasn’t the same as losing control of them. And even if he did lose control? What then? What was the worst that could happen? The worst had already happened.
Ettie had left him.
And now here he was in his huge house—isolated, cold and stuck in the emotional stunting of his past. He’d thought he was over it, that he was free of that pain. But he wasn’t beyond it at all. His own beautiful big house offered no more comfort or companionship than that dark, hideous cupboard of his childhood torment.
That constriction inside—the tight-bound hard knot inside him—finally loosened. And it hurt like hell. But he would not be an absent father to this child—physically or emotionally. He had to make more of an effort because he didn’t want his child turning out like him. He gazed sightlessly over the garden as he fully realised the painful, amazing truth. That knot inside—he’d hardened it, tried to cover it up, because it was more than a crusted nugget of hope. It was his heart.
Ettie had breathed life into it, blowing on old embers to bring back a flame. His inner fire was flickering now but it needed more fuel.
While he’d do anything to protect his baby, what was even more incredible—wonderful and terrifying—was that he’d fallen so completely in love with its mother. It wasn’t just the physical contact, but everything she brought with her. Her smile had put sparkle into his life. He simply wanted to put his battered heart into her hands and be with her. And he wanted to care for her in all ways. Her words hadn’t just unsettled him, they’d also left him raw. She had a power he’d never have believed it would be possible for anyone to have over him. He was still a little angry with her for that. And yet he knew he too had the power to gravely hurt her. He already had. But he’d never do that again.
He thought back to that very first night—to the way she’d run away the next morning, too scared to even lo
ok him in the eye. Braced for rejection, for betrayal, she’d been so certain she was going to be hurt. She’d run because he’d not given her what she needed.
But in order to get her back he had to open up in the way he’d told himself he never would, that he’d never thought he could. Heartache forced him forward. There was no alternative, no getting over this. The gap she’d left in his life was crippling.
He’d thought he had it all. He’d thought he was invincible. But he had nothing of real value. Now he’d finally realised, he knew he had to do something about it.
There was action and there was action.
CHAPTER TWELVE
IT WAS MOVING DAY.
Ettie looked around her little flat. Not much had changed in the days since she’d left Leon and come back to live alone.
He’d been in touch as promised, but only via paperwork. Formal, bloodless documentation offering her an apartment in Cavendish House to make it easy for her to work and be near to his home. It didn’t matter how near or far from her he was, he still killed her heart, but she couldn’t be under the same roof as him, couldn’t sleep with him any more, and that would happen if she stayed at his house. He didn’t love her and that was fine, but to remain and give everything of herself would slowly destroy her.
At least Leon travelled for work. She’d have moments of pure respite. Those urges in the smallest hours of the morning, to run to him, to tell him again that she loved him, to try to convince him to love her…she could ignore those. If she ignored them for long enough, surely they’d disappear. Surely she’d done the right thing?
But doubts niggled. Should she have fought harder for him?
Only then she remembered her past. Hadn’t she been humiliated enough? The man didn’t love her. No man had ever loved her. Not her father. Not her ex. Not Leon.
Snap out of it, Ettie.
The removal van was due in five minutes. She’d had very little to do—just repacked those few belongings she’d got out.
Someone knocked on the door. She checked the peephole. The guy’s cap was pulled low but had the removal logo on it. He was early. Of course, anyone hired by Leon would be efficient in the extreme.
She opened the door, knowing the security guard stationed along from her flat would have already vetted him. But it wasn’t the removal man. It was Leon himself.
She stared, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She’d never seen him this casually dressed. She’d pretty much only seen him either in a suit or naked. Now he was in black jeans, black T-shirt—and both fitted him lovingly. The effect of his outfit was…appallingly inappropriate. She clenched her jaw and her fists, furious for her basic reaction to him. Every time.
He totalled her senses.
‘I need to be able to help you, Ettie.’ He shifted on his feet and broke the silence. ‘Don’t you think?’
That’s all he wanted to do?
Unable to speak, she nodded and stood aside so he could enter. She had to be stronger than this.
He was holding a tray she’d not seen through the peephole. ‘I brought you these.’
A trio of little plants in pretty pots. Fresh herbs to replace the ones that had died.
‘Housewarming present for your new apartment,’ he explained in her silence. ‘I noticed your other ones hadn’t survived your absence.’
Of course. He noticed everything. He’d even got the exact right herbs—thyme, chives, basil. Her battered heart burst apart that little bit more. But it was a peace offering and she could be adult enough to accept it, couldn’t she?
‘Thank you,’ she said awkwardly as he put the plants on the old dining table.
He didn’t pick up one of the stacked boxes. Instead he looked across the small space to her, his expression more serious than ever. It should have been impossible.
‘I’m sorry.’ His words spilled suddenly into the taut silence. Uneven and harsh, like sharp pebbles tossed with piercing aim.
Was that what he’d come to offer? An apology? Her heart cranked open again, seeping pain and pure disappointment. She should appreciate the gesture, but she found she wasn’t quite ready to be friends with him yet. Too soon. Too sore.
She blinked rapidly, tried to pull herself together enough to offer a polite smile. Could he just shift the boxes now? But he was standing there—as still as still, his expression unreadable, his eyes as dark as his T-shirt.
‘I don’t know what love really is, Ettie. I only know what it isn’t and I couldn’t let that happen to you. It’s why I thought I should—could—let you go. I never wanted you to be unhappy.’
Yes, she knew he hadn’t meant to hurt her. He’d only tried to do the right thing. Now, could he please pick up a box?
‘Ettie?’ He paused. ‘Please look at me.’
He asked so softly and she couldn’t resist. This was the problem; she didn’t think she could ever resist. Not for long. She wasn’t ready for this yet.
He was paler than usual. Intense. Rigid. Her eyes filled because he was trying to open up and be honest and she could see the cost of that effort. She could see the desperation in him. Because he knew he’d hurt her and he didn’t like that. He might be bossy, but he was kind, and that broke her heart all over again. ‘Leon—’
‘No. Let me finish. Hell, start. I’m making a mess of it.’ He rubbed his hand through his hair, frustration leaping from him. ‘It’s taken me a bit to realise you weren’t rejecting me. You thought you were doing the right thing for me. For the baby. And for you. Because you wanted more than what I was offering. You were right to want that.’
Not the money, the lifestyle, the security. No, she’d wanted something far more precious from him.
‘I’ve always been unwilling to share space with anyone, share anything much. I didn’t know how.’
He stood still but Ettie could see the faint trembling of his fingers and she waited. She couldn’t have spoken if she’d tried.
‘I have that massive house because it made me feel free. I thought we’d hardly be aware of each other in there, but somehow you filled it,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know it at the time, but I’ve never been as scared in all my life as those few days when you were living with me. And then you left.’ He puffed out a long, pained breath. ‘And now I’ve finally worked out what it was I’d been so afraid of. It was that. You leaving.’ He paused. ‘Having you with me was like a dream, and I didn’t want to wake up and find you gone. Not again.’
Ettie couldn’t move, couldn’t open her mouth, not even to release the moan building in her chest. She hurt so much—for him, for her. And the fragile hope that was mounting within was too much to bear.
‘I didn’t recognise what I was feeling,’ he said. ‘I just didn’t know, Ettie. I’ve never had it before. Never felt it.’ He stepped nearer to her, his eyes blazing almost black with intensity. ‘You were right. I buried myself—us—in sex. I had this driving need to get closer to you. It’s so good, but that’s because it’s not just physical, Ettie.’ His voice lifted. ‘It never was. I think back to that first day. I’ve never been as intrigued by anyone. You were passionate and fiery and sweet and kind. But the thing is, you do lovely things for everyone and I doubted that I was all that special—’
‘I don’t sleep with just anyone,’ she interrupted harshly.
‘I know.’ He lifted his shoulders and then let them fall in a slight, helpless movement of concession. ‘You slipped under my armour without my even realising I had armour on. And then I was vulnerable. I didn’t like that, Ettie. Uncertainty is hideous.’ He dragged in another breath. ‘The trouble is, I don’t know how to give you what’s in here.’ He pressed his fist to his chest. ‘All I knew was that I wanted you to be free and happy, to fly and have all the things I thought you hadn’t had… Before these last few days, I never stopped to wonder why I wanted that for you but it’s since become obvious. I wanted what’s best for you, because I’ve fallen in love with you. I wanted you to have everything…’ His voice petere
d out and he stood there, alone and exposed.
‘I just wanted you.’ Ettie’s throat was so tight she could only whisper as her hope overflowed her wounded heart. ‘You were my pick, my special thing just for me. That first night and ever since, all I’ve ever wanted was you.’
The expression on his face crumbled her defences. He looked torn—somewhere between touched and hopeful and terrified.
‘I love you and I’m not going to stop loving you.’ Her voice shook. ‘But—’
‘You think I’m only here because of the baby.’ He gazed at her, reading her own vulnerability, her own limiting fears. ‘No. Our future was set the second I clapped eyes on you. One night was never going to be enough. But you worked for me and you were shy and I was processing how to get around that when we found out…you were pregnant. That changed everything and I think I just went on auto—instinct telling me what needed to happen and what I really wanted… And that’s you—all of you and all the love you have to give.’ He paused. His voice was strained. ‘I’m so greedy, Ettie. I want you in my life. I don’t want to let you go. I’m not going to let you go. And I refuse to regret the circumstances that brought us back together. I can’t wait until we meet our baby. I love you.’ He shook his head as he repeated it beneath his breath.
She put her hand on his lips and stopped him. ‘You deserve to have all the love.’ Her eyes watered.
‘But how do I show you? How do I make you happy?’
His admission—letting her see his vulnerability—touched her more than anything.
She shook her head. ‘You just do—just you. Listening to me, laughing with me, loving me. It’s not pity. It’s compassion. It’s understanding.’
He gazed so hard into her eyes it was as though he was drinking her words in and was desperately trying to understand, to believe…
‘You don’t even realise you’re doing it,’ she muttered, half marvelling. ‘Why do you think I fell in love with you? I took one look and wanted you. Even when I thought you were a heartless brute about to condemn Toby, I still felt that physical pull. But I fell in love with you that night—you let me see your smile, you let me in enough to laugh with me, and it was just magic. You were funny and smart and you noticed what I needed before I realised it myself. You see me. You know how to care, Leon. It’s innate in you.’
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