by Miranda Lee
Now that she’d met Henry’s son, Violet suspected he would have preferred to be anonymous, but he remained polite, at the same time not staying with one group for too long. His social skills were obvious as he mingled, spending just the right amount of time with each group before returning to the balcony and the people gathered there. Henry joined them occasionally, but not often, seemingly content to let his guests enjoy Leo’s company without his interference, which was probably wise of him. Henry had a tendency to dominate conversations, in Violet’s opinion.
Fortunately, very little of the chit-chat was directed her way, though when it was she thought she acquitted herself rather well. She didn’t stammer, or become tongue-tied. She offered an intelligent opinion, usually to do with a particular movie. Of course, she’d been a movie watcher from way back, so she had a wide range of knowledge on that subject.
A continuous stream of champagne helped her confidence as well, as did Leo’s hand in hers. She loved the feel of his fingers wrapped tightly around hers; loved the fantasy she began fashioning in her head about why he would be keeping her by his side all the time. They weren’t lovers yet, she decided in her imagination. But they would be before this night was over. Once the guests went home, he would draw her with him into his bedroom where he would slowly undress her and...
‘Violet?’
She blinked at the sound of his voice, then lifted her glazed eyes to his.
‘Food,’ he said, and nodded towards a waiter who was waiting patiently next to her with a tray of canapés, small puff pastry tarts with a pale creamy filling which looked and smelled delicious.
Violet hesitated. She was hungry, but to eat she had to let go Leo’s hand since she had a glass of champagne in her other.
‘No, thank you,’ she said politely. All to no avail; Leo extracted his hand from hers anyway, reaching to take two canapés.
‘Come now, my darling, this is not a night for silly dieting. Be a good girl and eat up.’ And he popped one of the canapés into her startled mouth.
It was delicious. And so was his calling her his darling.
Logic dictated the term of endearment was just part of the protective cover she was supplying for Leo, but Violet had never been called darling by any man before, let alone a man as handsome and charismatic as Leo. It sent a thrilling buzz running right through her. How wonderful it would be to be his darling for real!
But such a thing happening was on a par with her earlier fantasy, she conceded after a few seconds of wildly vicarious pleasure. Leo was way out of her league. But one could dream, couldn’t one? And it was great fun, pretending to be his love interest for the night.
Her eyes sparkled up at him as she washed the canapé down with a mouthful of champagne.
‘Thank you, darling,’ she said, chuffed at how convincing she sounded. And how sophisticated. Who would have believed when she came here tonight that within a couple of hours she would have conquered her nerves so splendidly?
Joy was going to be so surprised.
Violet certainly was.
CHAPTER SIX
OH DEAR, LEO THOUGHT, not having missed the slight slurring in Violet’s voice just now. If he were any judge—and he liked to think he was by the age of forty—Violet was well on the way to getting sloshed, and it was only ten-thirty. Admittedly, she’d been knocking back the champagne ever since she’d arrived. His fault, to a degree. She’d seemed awfully tense at first so he’d topped her glass up a few times in an effort to get her to relax.
Henry would not be pleased with him if he got Violet blind drunk. Not pleased at all.
Some dancing music started up just then, which was opportune. A little light exercise, along with no more bubbly for a while, was what Violet needed. Some more food as well. Henry was planning to serve a buffet supper around eleven which wasn’t too far off. Leo decided to keep Violet on the move till then, by which time the effect of the alcohol would have diffused somewhat.
‘Please excuse us, folks,’ he said to the group of people they were currently with, ‘but that’s dancing music I’m hearing inside and I just love to dance.’ So saying, he took the glass out of Violet’s hand, depositing it on a nearby table before cupping her elbow and steering her quite forcefully inside.
‘But...but... But I can’t dance!’ she spluttered as they arrived at the area of the living room which Leo himself had cleared for dancing earlier that day.
Leo could not believe his ears. ‘What do you mean, you can’t dance? All girls can dance.’
‘Well, I can’t,’ she said, sounding half-embarrassed, half-defiant.
‘In that case, it’s high time you learned.’
‘But no one else is dancing,’ she said, her eyes registering panic as they darted around the spacious room. The guests who were inside were all sitting down, except for the group gathered around the bar.
‘Then we’ll be the first, won’t we?’ he pronounced. Leo had found that people at parties were a bit like sheep. If one couple hit the dance floor, more soon followed.
‘And before you make some other pathetic excuse,’ he continued sternly, ‘even a moron can do the two-foot shuffle. Now, put your arms up around my neck.’
She did as ordered, though anyone would think he’d asked her to wrap herself around an electric fence by the look on her face. She also stayed standing a good foot and a half away from him, which made for an awkward lean to her upper body.
Sighing, Leo slid his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. Maybe too close, he was to realise a split second later as her full breasts pressed against the hard wall of his chest. His male hormones stirred, as did something else. Stunningly so. Leo’s teeth clenched hard in his jaw as he struggled to control his wayward flesh. But it was a futile effort. Thank God her skirt had a lot of material in it or things could have been embarrassing.
Common sense still warned him to step away from her, to say he’d changed his mind about dancing. After all, he was no longer at an age when surging testosterone levels controlled his behaviour. Leo was often in the company of women far more beautiful and sexy than Violet, and he didn’t feel compelled to pursue them as he once had. These days, his brain ruled his sex life, not his body.
But, as the old saying went, the spirit can be willing but the flesh is weak.
Not that Leo’s flesh felt weak at that precise moment. It felt hard and strong and wickedly focused on the girl in his arms.
‘Link your hands more tightly around the back of my neck,’ he commanded her.
She did so and it brought their bodies even closer together.
Could she feel his erection through his suit jacket and her gathered skirt?
He doubted it, despite her eyes widening and her pale cheeks going a bright pink. Leo suspected this wasn’t embarrassment he was seeing in Violet’s flushed face and big, liquid eyes. This was the body language of sexual chemistry. Hers, not his.
Once again, common sense told him to look away; to pretend he hadn’t noticed anything. Because nothing good could come of their physical attraction for each other. She was way too young and way too innocent for the likes of him.
But that was a large part of her appeal, wasn’t it? Her youth. Her...freshness.
He would have no trouble seducing her; Leo was extremely confident in matters of the bedroom. But to do so would make him the kind of heartless womaniser his father had accused him of being. He could not, would not, do it. He already had one woman’s broken heart on his conscience. He wasn’t going to add Violet to the score.
But, by God, she was a wicked temptation. It was crazy of him to keep on holding her like this, so intoxicatingly, painfully close. But he could hardly stop now. She would think him rude.
‘Take two steps to your left,’ he instructed her brusquely. ‘Now two to your right. Try to match the beat of the music.’
She followed his instructions perfectly, her blind obedience appealing to that part of Leo’s nature which had always enjoyed the role of lead
er. At university he’d held positions of prestige and power. As a lawyer, he’d started his own small practice rather than work for someone else. He hated taking orders. But he loved giving them.
‘Very good,’ he said. ‘Now, you just repeat those four steps ad infinitum. Or till the music stops,’ he added, hoping like hell that that would be soon. Because, if it didn’t, he was going to be in trouble here. Big trouble. Maybe if they talked it would distract him from what was going on south of the border.
‘How about telling me that long story of yours?’ he asked.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘WHAT?’ VIOLET SAID, lifting somewhat dazed eyes to his.
‘You were going to tell me what happened to you in the past to turn you off men.’
Violet suppressed a groan.
The last thing she wanted to do at this moment was talk. She wanted just to keep on wallowing in the experience of dancing with Leo. She loved the feel of his arms around her; loved the way their bodies were pressed against each other; loved touching the soft skin at the nape of his neck. She could have stayed that way all night, moving slowly and silently to the beat of the music.
‘I...um...don’t think so, Leo,’ she said. ‘Sometimes the past is best left in the past.’
It made Violet shudder to think she had even contemplated telling him she’d once had a face covered in pimples and scars. Whatever had she been thinking?
His dark brows drew together above his quite beautiful blue eyes.
‘Sometimes,’ he said. ‘But not if it’s still affecting the present. And the future. I gather from Henry that this is the first social invitation of his you’ve accepted since coming to work for him. Is that true?’
Violet felt quite annoyed with Henry. What right did he have to reveal details about her private and personal life? Especially unflattering ones. Leo must think she was a real weirdo.
‘Yes,’ she bit out. ‘But I have made a New Year’s resolution not to say no to any more invitations, either from Henry or anyone else.’
Leo should have been pleased to hear this. If he had Violet’s best interests at heart, then he would be. Perversely, however, he did not feel at all pleased. He felt...what? Surely not jealousy? That seemed over the top. Possibly it was protectiveness which was urging him to warn her about the big bad world of dating she was about to re-enter.
After all, she wasn’t exactly the most sophisticated of girls, or the most experienced. He doubted she’d had more than one lover; no doubt a randy university student who’d claimed love when all he’d really wanted from her was sex. It was a common scenario, one which most modern girls would have recovered from by now. It was testament to Violet’s sensitive nature that she’d retreated into herself for so long. It was good that her broken heart had finally mended, but she still needed to be careful.
‘It’s not a wise idea to indiscriminately say yes to every invitation, Violet,’ he told her. ‘Especially if the invite comes from a good-looking guy with more money than morals. Such men cannot be trusted. Just remember that there’s no such thing as a free lunch.’
Violet bristled at Leo’s rather pompous-sounding advice. She was twenty-five years old, for pity’s sake. Okay, so she didn’t have first-hand experience at what men would say and do to get a girl into bed, but she’d read about them. And seen them on television. She knew men had different agendas from women. Their priority was sex first, love and marriage later, if ever!
Frankly, she herself wasn’t on the lookout for love and marriage just yet. All she wanted during the next year was to find a nice guy to date who would take her virginity and leave her feeling good about herself. If they fell in love, then great. But if they didn’t, she’d survive then move on. That was what the new year was going to be about for her. Moving on.
‘I do know that, Leo,’ she said with a hint of irritation in her voice. ‘I’m not a total ignoramus where men are concerned.’
‘I didn’t say that. But please allow me to know the beast better than you do.’
Violet didn’t like it that Leo had suddenly turned all ‘big brother’ on her. She much preferred the man who’d held her hand, called her darling, fed her canapés and insisted she dance with him. Her pleasure in the evening vanished, along with the fantasy in her head of their being lovers. If she could have gone home at that moment, she would have. Unfortunately, she was trapped till after midnight.
But there was one thing she could do.
Steeling herself, she stopped moving her feet and removed her arms from around Leo’s neck.
‘I’m sorry, Leo,’ she said, ‘but I need to go to the bathroom.’ Which was actually true. She hadn’t been all night, yet she’d drunk a considerable amount of champagne. She didn’t wait for him to say anything, disengaging herself from his arms and hurrying off in the direction of the bedroom where she’d left her bag. It was there on the bedside table and Violet snatched it up before heading into the en suite bathroom and locking the door behind her.
Attending to nature’s call took longer than usual—thank heavens she didn’t have to wear skirts like Snow White’s every day!—after which she washed her hands then rifled her mobile phone out of her bag.
Joy answered on the second ring. ‘Violet! What’s wrong? Why are you calling me at this early hour?’
‘Nothing’s wrong, Joy,’ Violet replied, doing her best not to sound as down as she felt. ‘I just thought I’d give you a call, make sure you’re still awake.’
‘Of course I’m still awake. And there is something wrong. I can hear it in your voice. What’s happened to upset you? Did that movie producer guy make a pass at you?’
I wish, Violet thought with an odd lurch to her heart. It was then that she realised just how attracted she was to Leo. More than attracted—infatuated would be a better word. Which was silly of her. Even she could see that. Maybe that was why he’d suddenly gone all distant and paternal with her, because she’d betrayed her feelings somehow. Obviously the last thing he wanted was his father’s assistant getting a schoolgirl crush on him. No doubt he was now regretting using her as a protective shield against the unwanted attention of other women.
‘No, Joy,’ she said. ‘Don’t be silly. He’s actually a very nice man. But the rest of the crowd Henry invited... They’re just not me. I’m glad I came, but quite frankly I can’t wait to get out of here now. Would it be possible for you to get here by the time the fireworks finish? Say, about twenty past twelve? You could always record the fireworks and watch them later.’
‘Oh Lordy, I don’t give a damn about the fireworks!’
‘I’m truly sorry to ask you to do this but at least you’ll get to bed earlier.’
‘Stop stressing. It’s no trouble. See you around twelve-twenty, then.’
‘I’ll be outside, waiting for you.’
Violet hung up, put her phone back in her bag and just stood there, reluctant to return to the party. The confidence which had buoyed her up earlier in the evening had well and truly dissipated. She was back to being the pre-party Violet. Or was it the post-Leo Violet? He’d certainly taken all the wind out of her sails with his swift change from attentive Prince Charming to concerned father-figure.
A sharp knocking on the bathroom door almost gave her a heart attack.
‘Violet!’ Henry’s voice boomed through the door. ‘Why are you hiding in there? Get yourself out here, girl. Supper’s served.’
Henry coming to find her worked out reasonably well for Violet. Always comfortable in her boss’s company, she stayed by his side during supper and in the time leading up to midnight. A brilliant conversationalist and raconteur, Henry drew people to him like a magnet. It was entertaining just listening to him. Being with Henry didn’t require Violet to say much, just smile and laugh at the right moments.
Not that she was happy. How could she be when out of the corner of her eye she watched a now-unattached Leo being cornered by the sexiest woman there, the blonde who’d dressed up as Marilyn Monroe? With d
epressing ease, she lured Leo out onto the balcony where they stood side by side at the railing, the blonde’s face turned up to Leo’s with an adoring look in her long-lashed cat’s eyes.
Unfortunately, the glass wall meant Violet could see both of them very clearly. Once, Leo glanced over his shoulder through the glass and caught Violet’s eye, but she quickly looked away before he could glimpse the misery in her. She hated to think what might happen after she’d left the party. Would the blonde stay the night with Leo? Probably. Violet wasn’t as naive as everyone seemed to think.
‘One minute to midnight, folks!’ Henry announced, dragging Violet’s mind away from Leo and back to the moment at hand. ‘Everyone outside, please, with champagne in hand! Come along, Violet. Here’s your glass. Shake a leg, girl.’
Violet hadn’t been out on the balcony for well over an hour so she was surprised by the noise coming from the myriad boats on the harbour, as well as the surrounding houses. Music; singing; laughter; general hubbub. She stayed by Henry’s side, who thankfully stopped a good way from where Leo and the blonde were standing.
It wasn’t long before the countdown started to midnight, with everyone shouting out the seconds. ‘Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Zero!’
‘Happy New Year, everyone!’ Henry boomed, along with everyone else, clinking Violet’s glass in a toast just as the night sky exploded.
It was impossible to look anywhere else then but at the fireworks display which surpassed the nine o’clock show, both with the sheer scale and variety of the fireworks, as well as the abundance of colours: red; orange; green; blue; gold; purple; no colour was left out, as well as combinations of colours.
Violet’s favourite was the pink flowers which burst above silver showers of rain, though she also loved the red cartwheels rimmed with green. Everyone gasped when blue laser lights suddenly shot up from the arch of the bridge. The display went on and on, seemingly getting more spectacular with each passing second. Golden rain started falling from the bridge into the water below whilst more fireworks joined in from the tops of buildings in the city centre.