Anna disengaged from his embrace once they were out of sight of the photographers.
“Let’s say good-night here,” she said, needing to put space between them. Needing to think and plan and not feel so damn much whenever he was near. She could do this if she could only gain perspective.
He frowned. She thought he would say no, and then he tipped his head. “Very well. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at ten.”
She waved a hand in the air as if it were a trifle. “There’s no need, Leo. The registry bureau is in the opposite direction from your office. I’ll meet you there at ten-thirty. It’ll preserve the mystery, yes?”
His brows drew down. “The mystery?”
“If this were a church wedding, you wouldn’t be allowed to see me in the dress before I walked down the aisle. Let’s attempt to follow the form.”
His frown didn’t dissipate. But he acquiesced. “If that’s what you wish. I’ll send a car for you.”
“Very well,” she said.
And then she stepped up to him and pulled his head down to hers. She kissed him with all the pent-up passion she possessed, triumphing in the groan emanating from his throat. His tongue slid into her mouth, tangled with hers, and she almost believed it. Almost believed he needed her as much as she needed him.
But he didn’t. Or at least not in the same way. She disengaged from the kiss, straightening her jacket, and bid him good-night.
He watched her get into the lift. The doors slid closed and she turned into the corner, pressing her fist to her mouth and willing herself not to cry.
It was all wrong. Once more, it was all wrong.
She wasn’t coming. Leo stood in the hallway outside the registry office where they were to be married and processed the information he’d just been given. Anna had not shown up, according to the driver he’d sent over for her. A call to her mobile netted him nothing. Another call to the front desk, and he learned that she’d checked out more than two hours ago.
Rage was the first emotion that coursed through him, scouring his insides like sulfuric acid, eating away at him until he wanted to explode into action. But what sort of action? Punching something would do no good, no matter how exhilarating it might feel.
Despair was the second emotion to pummel him. Somehow, that was harder to deal with. She’d left him. Anna Constantinides, his beautiful uptight Greek with her pearls and her veneer of cool competence that he knew hid a passionate, fiery nature. Anna was molten, no matter how hard she tried not to be. All the buttoned-up clothing in the world couldn’t hide that sizzling beauty of hers, no matter what she believed.
He stood in that hallway with people passing around him, going on with their lives and jobs, and he felt suddenly bereft. Empty. As if she’d taken the light with her when she’d gone. He didn’t understand it. Why had she left? Why, when this marriage had been so important to her in the first place?
He’d always known she was doing it for reasons that had nothing to do with him. The knowledge that she could dismiss him so easily in her calculations had pricked his pride, but had he given her any reason to do otherwise? His greatest fear was being a horrible father. His second greatest was disappointing Anna.
Twice, she’d pushed him from her life. The first time, he’d been angry and disappointed. This time, he felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. Repeatedly.
He knew what he had to do, the only course of action that made sense.
He had to go after her. He had to stop her before she left. It was the only thing that would halt the agony inside him.
And say what to her, Leo?
His mind cast around for the right words. He had to tell her that he could be a better person, that he wanted to be a father and a husband, and that he wanted her to give him that chance. That with her by his side, he knew he could do anything. He wasn’t doomed to be his own father, wasn’t doomed to a life of poor choices and empty relationships if he didn’t choose to be.
Leo shot down the hallway, down two flights of stairs, and burst into the gloom of a rainy day. He didn’t have time to wait for his driver to come around, so he hailed a cab. The trip to Heathrow took forever but he was finally there, finally bursting through the doors and sprinting for the British Airways counter to buy a ticket to Amanti. It was the only way to get through security to see her.
He strode straight to the VIP line and breezed through to the counter agent.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the agent said when he told the man what he wanted. “But that flight is already on the taxiway.”
“Then stop it.”
“I’m afraid we can’t do that, sir.”
Leo wanted to haul the agent over the counter by his collar and demand he stop the plane, but he knew that was the surest way to spend a few days cooling off in a jail cell. Instead, he slammed a fist against the counter and went back out into the rain, hands thrust in his pockets, stomach churning with rage and pain. Eventually, he hailed a cab and had it take him back to Knightsbridge.
She’d left him. She’d bloody well left him standing at the metaphorical altar and run away at the last damn minute. Because she knew he didn’t belong in her life. His relationships with women had always been about the physical, never the emotional. He was damaged when it came to knowing how to share the parts of him that went deeper than the surface.
But he’d tried. With her, he’d tried. And it hadn’t been good enough, had it? She’d seen through to the damaged parts of his soul and said, No way.
Leo didn’t even bother drying off when he entered his father’s apartment. He poured a glass of Scotch and slumped on the couch, raindrops sliding down his face and plopping onto his damp clothing.
Bobby found him that way hours later, still sitting, still staring at nothing. His clothes had dried, but they were now stiff and uncomfortable. He didn’t care.
“What happened to you, boy?” his father demanded, coming over and taking the empty glass away.
Leo looked up, blinked. His eyes felt gritty, tired. “Got what I deserved,” he said. “About time, too.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Anna. She left me.”
Bobby thrust his lower lip out. “Mmm, I see.” He perched on the edge of the table closest to Leo. “You love her?”
He’d been thinking about that for hours now. “Yeah, I think I do.”
“Think? Or know?”
Leo rubbed a hand over his eyes, his forehead. “How do you ever know?” He knew he was asking the wrong man, not only because Bobby seemed to have an open-door policy on who he loved and how often, but also because Bobby had never yet offered him any advice of substance. But the lonely little boy inside him still wanted it to happen. Wanted his father to step up and be a father for once, not just another partner in crime.
Bobby blew out a breath and rubbed his hands on his knees. “You know because when she’s gone it hurts deep down—” he put a fist to his torso, right below his rib cage “—right here. It hurts and it won’t go away. No amount of alcohol can kill it. No amount of sex with other women can kill it. Nothing but time, if she won’t take you back. And even then, it continues to burn.”
Leo blinked. “Who did you feel that way about?” He was too surprised by what Bobby had just said not to ask the question.
Bobby leaned back, hands still on his legs. “Ah, well that’s my secret to bear, isn’t it? Suffice it to say I screwed up. But you can fix this, Leo. Go after her, tell her how you feel.”
As if it were that easy. He’d tried that. It hadn’t worked. Anna had left him without a word. She’d never given him the chance, and he was angry about it. Angry that he’d stood there in the airport and felt as if his world was crumbling from beneath his feet and there was nothing he could do about it.
“What if she doesn’t care?”
That was the moment when Bobby said the most profound thing Leo would ever hear him say, even if they both lived another hundred years. “If she didn’t care
, I doubt she’d have left. Women don’t run when they aren’t scared of something. If all she wanted was your money or your name, she’d have said those vows faster than lightning. Trust me.”
Bobby got up then and clamped a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “I love you, Leo. I know I haven’t always done right by you, but I love you. You’ll be a terrific father, not because you had a great example to follow—and we both know you didn’t—but because it’s who you are inside. There’s nothing you do that you don’t excel at.”
Leo felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “Why haven’t you said this before?”
It was … extraordinary. And just strange enough that he almost thought he must be dreaming.
Bobby shrugged. “Because I wasn’t sure you’d welcome it. You’re so damned independent—get that from your mother—and so competent that I feel a bit out of sorts with you.”
“Out of sorts?”
“Hard to admit your kids know more than you do. If I opened my mouth and removed all doubt, would you ever respect me?” Bobby shook his head. “No, just seemed easier to spend time with you and hope you knew how proud you make me. I can’t change the past, but I can let you know I’m here now. I’ve made mistakes, Leo, but I do love you.”
Shame jabbed at Leo’s conscience then. “When the story broke in the papers, I wondered for a moment if it was you who’d told them. Not on purpose, but inadvertently.”
He knew better now, but his father had been the first flash of a thought. The guilt of it, however briefly it had entered his mind, ate at him, especially after what Bobby had just said.
His father shrugged again. “Of course you did. Who else would be most likely to get drunk and open his mouth?” Then he patted Leo. “I’ve gotten better about that. It wasn’t me, but I don’t blame you for thinking it could be.”
Bobby started toward the elevator and Leo stood to watch him go. “Dad,” he said when the doors opened and his father stepped inside.
Bobby turned, his finger on the button. There was so much Leo wanted to say, so much he wanted to know. This relationship was a work in progress and might always be. But it had just taken a step forward that he’d never expected and there was only one response needed.
“Thanks.”
The other man smiled, and then the doors closed and he was gone.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“IT SEEMS as if I was wrong about you,” a voice said from behind her. “You aren’t a dragon lady at all.”
Anna whirled, her toes catching in the sand, and nearly fell to her knees. Fortunately, she did not. The early-morning sun was behind him, silhouetting his body in a nimbus of light as he moved down the deserted beach toward her.
But was he a figment of her desperate imagination, or was he real?
“Leo?”
“Expecting someone else?” he said as he came to a stop a few short feet away.
Anna shook her head because no words would come out. It was him. And she could hardly believe he was here. She’d left London nearly a week ago, and she’d regretted it every moment since. As he’d implied, she’d been a coward. Hot emotion welled in her chest, her throat, aching to spill forth. But she swallowed it down and stood there, watching him as he watched her. Neither of them said a word for long moments.
And then he broke the silence.
“You left without saying goodbye.” There was a hard edge to his voice that made her swallow the lump in her throat.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“That’s all?”
“What else do you wish me to say?” she asked, her heart throbbing with hurt and love and passion for this man. He was here and she wanted to throw herself into his arms, sob and beg him to give her another chance.
“Why don’t you explain why you thought it necessary to run away without at least telling me you no longer wanted to marry me.”
Her heart ached so much. “I wanted to tell you,” she said. “I started to tell you.”
But every time she’d tried to initiate the phone call, dread had gripped her by the throat and refused to let go. She’d finally realized that the only way to release him from his promise was just to go.
“You should have.”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t. You would have insisted on going through with it anyway, and I didn’t want to do that to you.”
Leo growled. And then he shoved a hand through his hair and turned to look out at the whitecaps foaming on the surface of the sea as they broke toward shore. “You wanted the marriage, Anna. You asked me.”
“And you always keep your promises, even when you know you’ll regret it later!” she cried, suddenly unable to hold it in any longer. He turned toward her and she ducked her head, embarrassed. “I couldn’t bear the thought that you would regret me.”
He looked stunned. “That’s what this is about? The fact I made a bet over a tattoo and went through with it?”
It sounded stupid when he put it that way. Embarrassment flooded her. “Of course it’s not about the tattoo. It’s about you being the sort of person who honors his promises.”
“My God, Anna, you frustrate the hell out of me. You wanted the marriage to protect the baby. What happened to change your mind? A bloody tattoo story?”
“Of course not,” she said, stung. “I realized once the story broke that you were right. I did want the marriage for me, to protect me.” She dropped her gaze to the sand, studied the tiny whorls made by sand crabs in the night. “I’m ashamed of that.”
She heard him move, and then he was gripping her shoulders and forcing her to look up at him. She felt like whimpering at his touch, but she bit the inside of her lip and kept quiet. She knew she was pitiful.
“Don’t say that, Anna. You thought you were doing it for the baby. You were doing it for the baby. No one should have to endure the kind of stories you’ve had to over the past few months. You had every right to think of how our child would have been affected.”
A tear trickled down her cheek and she dashed it away. “But I had no right to force changes into your life because of my problems with the press.”
His grip tightened. “Anna, this baby is ours. I want to be there for him.”
“Or her,” she added automatically.
“Or her.” He pulled her into his embrace suddenly, and she closed her eyes and breathed him in. His heart was thrumming hard and steady, and his skin was so hot beneath his clothes. Searing her. Making her want. She curled her fingers into his shirt and just held him. For a few moments, she could allow herself to enjoy this.
“When I told you about the stories surrounding my mother’s affair with my father, and the subsequent stories when she died—I was wrong when I said they didn’t affect me. Of course they did. I’ve been living with their impact all of my life. It’s made me who I am, Anna.”
She tilted her head back to look at him. “Oh, Leo, I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” he said. “I like who I am. But I like who I am with you even better.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “You’re only trying to make me feel better for wanting to force you into marriage.”
He sighed. “Don’t you realize by now, sweet Anna, there’s no forcing me to do anything I don’t want to do? I agreed because I wanted this marriage. I still do.”
Her knees were suddenly so weak that if he wasn’t holding her tight, she’d have sunk to the ground. “I thought I was forcing you into something you didn’t want to do. And I walked out without an explanation. How could you still want to marry me?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he said, teeth flashing white in his handsome face. His eyes were so hot and intense as they raked over her face, daring her to believe.
“I—I’m not sure it is.”
He shook his head, but his smile never wavered. “I love you, Anna. I love our baby. I like who I am with you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to see you grow big with our child, and I want to be there when he—or she—comes in
to this world. I want to bring you coffee every morning, and I want to make love to you as often as possible. I want to unbutton your high-necked shirts and make you wear colors more frequently. I want you in my life, and I want to marry you so you can’t ever run away again.”
The tears she’d been holding in sprang free, sliding hotly down her cheeks. She told herself to hold it together, but it was far easier said than done. She put her forehead against his shirt and sobbed while he held her tight.
When she finally managed to compose herself, she lifted her head to find him gazing at her tenderly. “I thought you didn’t care,” she said, her breath hitching. “I thought you must hate me for making you go through with a marriage you didn’t want.”
He looked stunned. “What on earth made you think that?”
“You grew so distant after the story broke. All I wanted was for you to hold me, but you wouldn’t touch me.” She sniffled. “You wouldn’t spend the night with me again.”
He squeezed her tighter to him. “I thought you were too upset, that you weren’t resting. I knew if I were there, you definitely wouldn’t rest. Because I couldn’t keep my hands off you.”
“You seem to have done a good enough job of it.” Her voice sounded small, hurt. She dropped her gaze to his chest, to where she was still clutching him tight.
He swore softly. “I couldn’t touch you, Anna. Not without wanting to make love to you. It was safer to keep my distance. I wanted you to rest. It was only four nights. We’d have been together on the fifth.”
“But I didn’t rest,” she said, her fingers trembling as she smoothed the fabric of his shirt. “I tossed and turned because I thought everything was ruined between us. I loved you so desperately, and I thought you despised me.”
“Look at me,” he said, and she raised her gaze to his. His smile made her heart turn over in her chest. Soft, hopeful, full of tenderness. “You love me?”
She blinked, stunned at the question. “I thought it was obvious.”
The Girl Nobody Wanted Lynne Raye Harris Page 16