by Shirley Wine
"You've intimated as much before. Explain yourself." His flat, lethal voice was wiped of emotion.
Should she? Why not? Kept inside it was poisoning her in slow steady increments. "Why did you bring me here unless it was because I was so conveniently pregnant?"
For long moments nothing moved or stirred. The tension in the night silence was tangible. "Would you have preferred I dump you alone and pregnant on a street corner?"
"I may have fared better." She threw the challenge at him, suddenly reckless. "What you did do was little short of criminal."
His intake of breath was harsh. He gripped her shoulders and she shivered in reaction. How could she hate and love someone at the same time. The conflict was tearing her apart.
"What are you implying Veronica?"
"You and Yannis planned the whole thing. Sonia—" Horrified where anger had led her, she stalled.
"Sonia?" The velvet question made her shudder. "Don't stop there, Veronica. What did Sonia tell you?"
Years of anguish and rage against the powerful Karvasis brothers spilled over. Did wealth give them the right to play God with another person's life? Her life?
"You conspired with Yannis, Leon. You promised your brother you'd clear his gambling debts if he found someone to give you the child your wife couldn't conceive." Veronica's voice shook with years of anger. "And Yannis found me, an orphan with no family, such an easy mark. You both used me with as little consideration as if I were a brood mare."
The accusation vibrated in an atmosphere fraught with menace.
"And if I told you that was a farrago of lies?"
Leon moved and a shaft of moonlight illuminated him. Black brows drawn together, light and dark, harsh shadows slashes on his fierce, proud face.
A violent shiver wracked her.
Lucifer, himself, couldn't have appeared more menacing. There was no trace of gentleness in him. He could have been hewn from granite. It may have been the unforgiving light that created the illusion. But there was no mistake about the fright goose-stepping across her skin. Had she gone too far?
"What possible reason could Sonia have to lie?"
He spun away, bracing his outstretched arms against the window frame. His muscles stood out in taut relief against the night sky, knuckles gleamed white in the moonlight. "To suggest I conspired with Yannis is beyond belief. Do you think I would lend myself to such a callous scheme?"
Veronica wanted to believe him, but maturity made her cautious.
Was Leon guilty of conspiracy?
His delight in her decision to relinquish her baby made him forever suspect in her eyes.
"I can't prove my innocence or make you believe me." He turned and looked at her, his expression grave. "You trusted me with Jordan. Did he mean so little to you that you would give him into the care of a man you thought capable of such villainy?"
She did love Jordan and always would.
And once she'd blindly trusted Leon. Now doubt preyed on that blind trust and no matter how she tried, it refused to be dislodged. Ultimately it came down to trust.
And trust was something she no longer possessed.
But recalling Sonia's visit a few days earlier, Veronica granted Leon a small concession. "Sonia could well have just been spiteful."
Sonia did have good reason to resent her.
Yannis had betrayed his wife as much as he'd betrayed her. And Veronica had considerable sympathy for the other woman's very public humiliation.
But Sonia wanted to remarry; did that mean she'd moved on from Yannis' betrayal?
Like a troublesome tooth, Yannis niggled at Veronica. Until she understood what drove him to such dastardly actions she would never have either peace, or closure.
Leon's austere features softened slightly as he accepted her words as the concession they were.
"Sonia's had her reasons." Leon rocked back on his heels.
She nodded. "Yannis deceived us both."
"I'm glad you do realise that." Leon looked at her and she fought not to fidget. "Was that what caused your collapse?"
It was pointless pretending not to understand. The memory of Sonia's visit had been preying on her mind. The shadows allowed her some privacy. "Not entirely."
"What else was involved?"
Veronica hesitated. Why not? I've come this far.
It was more than time Leon understood the relentless pressure she'd endured in his home, pressure that he'd either ignored, or preferred not to see.
"Julia confirmed Sonia's claim." The bald words echoed her anguish. "Julia told me she approved Yannis's choice."
Leon's stillness was absolute.
Goose-bumps erupted on Veronica's skin. The intense silence could have been cut with a knife.
"Julia? Julia told you that?" The shock in his voice was unmistakeable. "But that's impossible! She never knew you existed until the day I brought you here."
She almost believed him. But doubt was so embedded in her psyche it needed more than one shocked denial to erase suspicion.
"The moment Julia saw me she wanted my baby." Let Leon deny that if he could.
Leon's harsh sigh was loud in the night silence. "Julia found infertility a heavy burden and envied you, yes. But the decision to give up Jordan was your own."
Veronica didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
She had no doubt that Leon believed what he was saying, but she'd lived with her truth for ten years.
"You mean it had nothing to do with my inability to support my baby, my youth, or your determination to retain custody?"
Leon gripped her arms and gave her a little shake, his anger and distress tangible. "Had you opted to keep Jordan, I would have applied for joint guardianship with you, similar to what I have with Andreas and Katya. Jordan was your baby, but he was also a Karvasis and entitled to his birth-right and financial support. That's a far cry from what you're suggesting."
She stared at him, her jaw loose with shock, shaking her head, as she struggled to assimilate his words.
"You would have supported me…" her voice faded to a shocked whisper, as she stared up into his eyes, struggling with disbelief, "financially? Even had I decided to keep Jordan?"
Leon's black brows snapped together in a heavy frown. "Of course, what else did you think I meant?"
Nausea churned in Veronica's stomach.
"I didn't understand." Her choked words echoed in the suddenly tense silence.
She pulled away from him and rubbed her hands up her chilled arms, but the cold chill in her chest refused to budge.
Julia had twisted this, too.
"I thought you'd offered either adoption or financial aid," she said in a harsh, shaken whisper. "Why didn't you make it clear?"
His eyes narrowed as he watched her, a small muscle pulsing in his jaw.
"You thought I'd throw you and your baby onto the street if you didn't agree to us adopting him? If that's what I intended, why on earth would I bring you here?"
There was no way Veronica could mistake Leon's incredulity. Put like that, her assumptions were ludicrous.
But then she was no longer that frightened, pressured teen. She could see her situation through mature eyes, without Julia's clever distortions.
Distortions meant to undermine a teenager's confidence. One glance at Leon enough for her to know he would never believe her.
"You chose a career over your child. Do you blame Julia for loving the child you left behind?"
The words sliced Veronica open as neatly a sharp knife slipped between her ribs. Her heart sank. Would Leon ever believe the pressure Julia had exerted? With a moment of clear insight, she knew it was futile to even try to explain. As always, with Leon, everything came back to Julia.
And in its own way, the pressure from Leon had been just as intense.
"Do you mind leaving?" she asked woodenly, unable to bear anything more. "I'm tired."
For several tension-filled moments he never moved, then with an expressive shrug he disappear
ed, leaving only the soft shushing sound of the closing door in his wake.
Veronica eased out a ragged breath. In the bedroom, she crawled into bed, only to find sleep elusive.
She'd made a mistake returning to Claremont.
Overwrought, her brief visit with Jordan, the heated exchanges with Leon replayed through her mind, overlaid with snatches of Julia's ghostly laughter.
~***~
"Veronica? Ricki? Wake up!" A hand shook her shoulder, hard. Opening bleary eyes, she saw Leon standing over her. "Jordan's not so well."
She bolted upright, anxiety clutching at her throat. There was only one reason Leon would wake her in the middle of the night.
"McKenna's getting the car. I'm leaving in a few moments if you want to come."
Veronica tumbled from the bed, dragged open the cavernous wardrobe and was tugging on clothes before Leon reached the door. Racing to the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face, dragged a brush through her tangled hair and scooped up a band and tugged it into a ponytail. She was pushing her feet into canvas espadrilles when he reappeared.
"You need something warm." He caught up a denim fleece jacket and held it for her to thrust her arms into.
"Let's go."
Cassie was in the hallway, hair in a scarf and wrapper hastily tied, her face ashen and looking every one of her years. "I'll pray for you both."
"I'll let you know how he is as soon as we get there." Leon gripped her gnarled hands. "Try not to worry."
Try telling the sun not to rise. The sombre thought made Veronica shiver.
Leon hustled her out the door, taking the steps two at a time and bundling her into the waiting car. "Don't waste time."
Veronica trembled. "What's wrong?"
"He's got pneumonia." Leon ran a shaking hand through his hair. "Damn! I should never have left his bedside."
Icy fear trickled through her veins.
"Leon," she gripped his hands in hers, one glance enough to know he shared her fear. "You not being there wouldn't have made any difference."
"I saw the sheen of sweat on his brow earlier. I should have heeded my instincts and stayed with him."
"You need rest, too. No one could have anticipated he'd have a setback."
"Maybe not, but had I ignored your siren call, I'd have been there for my son."
His bitter words robbed her of breath. She tugged her hands free. What did he mean by that crack?
"What are you inferring?"
"You have the lure of a bitch in heat. You make a man forget his responsibilities."
Shock was followed swiftly by outrage.
"You bastard," she said through her teeth. "Who insisted I stayed at Claremont?'
"That was a mistake." He gave her one searing glare and turned to stare out the opposite window and ignored her. In a silence, thick with tension McKenna parked beneath the hospital's portico.
Leon caught her hand but she yanked it free not wanting his touch. Her heart pounded so hard with fear and outrage, she struggled for breath. On Jordan's floor, Leon paused. "I'm sorry, Veronica. That was uncalled for."
Maybe, but now I know what he thinks.
"Stop it," Leon said harshly, gripping her shoulders. "You won't be any help like this."
Hurting and resentful, she glared at him and then glimpsed the raw emotion he was unable to hide. "Do you want to help?"
She managed to nod.
"Then calm down. You need to be strong, for Jordan's sake."
She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing, the pressure of Leon's hands calming.
"Better?"
She managed to smile. "I won't go to pieces. I promise."
For several moments he looked at her and, as if satisfied with what he saw, gave a small nod. "Okay let's get gowned up. Jordan's in protective isolation for his radiation therapy."
Veronca followed him into a stark washroom.
"You have to strip to your undies and don surgical overalls, mask and cap and then scrub your hands." She hesitated shy at stripping in this confined space with him present. "Now's not the time for false modesty."
Embarrassed, she turned her back and removed her blouse and skirt. Heightened senses magnified every rustle as Leon did likewise.
As Veronica pulled on the drab green overalls Leon crossed the space and slipped his hands around her neck and through her hair, lifting her chin with both thumbs.
"Don't be embarrassed." His gentleness was a complete contrast to his previous acerbity. "I've seen you at your most vulnerable, remember?"
As if she could ever forget, or the scene that erupted when she'd tried get Julia's help—
"Ricki's alone, having my brother's child. A baby she's giving into our care. You must support her through her labour."
"Well rule me out." Julia's lips were a thin angry line.
"If you won't then I will."
Leon was as coldly angry as I'd ever seen him and Julia, adamant in her refusal. Reasons she never divulged to Leon. To me she showed a different face.
"You deserve to be alone," she whispered harshly, when Leon left the room. "It's your punishment for breaking up a marriage."
—even now, Veronica struggled to understand how Julia came by that notion.
Did Julia blame me for breaking up a marriage I never knew existed?
During her labour, Leon stayed with her, rubbed her back and talked nonsense to distract her. For twenty rugged hours she drew on his strength. And when it was over it was Leon who placed Jordan, wet and bloody, in her arms.
At some point during those long pain-filled hours an enduring link was forged between them, a link that still bound them despite time and distance.
Veronica met his gaze. "I never did thank you."
Leon's eyes darkened before he lowered his lashes.
"It wasn't necessary." He lowered his head and laid a brief, tender kiss on her lips. "You gave us a gift beyond price."
Veronica turned to the basin and scrubbed her hands, memories crowding her.
Sometime during her time at Claremont and giving birth, her love for Yannis died. In its place had grown a deep, abiding love for his strong, forceful brother.
And despite time, separation and starved of contact, Veronica had only to see Leon in that nightclub and she knew she'd love him until she took her last breath. And after being at Claremont for less than a day, she knew Leon still loved his dead wife.
Chapter Eight
"Ready?"
With a quivering breath, she nodded. Leon held a mask and she turned and he tied it for her. She pulled a paper cap over her hair.
"Let's visit our son." He held out a hand but she shook her head.
Our son. The words hit her with all the force of a fist to the solar plexus. Since the hour of his birth, Jordan had never been hers. And no matter how much she regretted her decision now, she had surrendered that right.
Jordan tossed restlessly, his sickly pallor intensified by a hectic flush. "Daddy? Daddy where are you? Mummy?"
The harsh croak barely parted his fever-cracked lips. His cries cracked Veronica's heart until it was as brittle as crazed glass. Jordan doesn't want me, he's calling Julia.
She pushed aside her hurt and took his hot hands in hers. She may not be the mother he was crying for, but ties of the heart bound her just as tightly to this sick little boy.
She laid a hand on his forehead. He was burning up.
"I'm here sweetheart," she murmured. "I'm right here."
With a grip that held surprising strength, he caught her hand. "Don't leave me, Mummy. Don't go away again."
"I won't leave you." Veronica took the tepid flannel from Leon and began sponging Jordan's face, neck and torso.
"Keep sponging him," the nurse whispered softly. "We have to get his temperature down. The antibiotics aren't working."
For hours Veronica sponged, talking softly to soothe Jordan's wild ramblings.
Leon turned him and changed wet towels for dry ones. He wince
d when Jordan cried out in pain. Nurses came and went, replenishing water and towels.
Several times during those hours Professor Carey and another doctor examined Jordan, their grave expressions doing little to ease her worry. At intervals a nurse administered antibiotics and replaced the life-giving intravenous drip.
Sometime after the soft grey of dawn crept into the corners, the doctor bent over Jordan, listening to his chest. He glanced from her to Leon, and smiled.
"Keep it up. I believe we're winning."
Veronica saw beads of perspiration break on Jordan's forehead.
For one terrified moment she thought they'd lost the battle but the beatific glow in the nurse's eyes reassured her.
Jordan's fever had broken and he was sleeping, harsh breaths eased into a gentler rhythm.
Tears beaded Veronica's lashes. Relief drained her strength. Leon pulled her back against him, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder.
"We've done it," he whispered, his breath ruffling her hair.
She drew a shaky breath. After the stress and worry of the past hours, her legs had all the strength of cooked noodles.
"You should both go home and rest. I've given Jordan a sedative to ensure he sleeps. Sleep is what he needs most." The doctor folded his stethoscope and gave them both a hard look. "And you both need to get some rest. You've a few rugged days ahead of you."
Veronica hesitated, too close to the unthinkable to be comfortable at leaving.
"You're exhausted." Leon gave her a steady look. "If you rest now you can return when he's awake."
Still reluctant, she let him coax her into the scrub room, too weary to protest.
Leon untied her overalls and slipped them off her shoulders. He held out her blouse and she put her arms into the sleeves, standing passive as he fastened the buttons.
"Can you manage your skirt?"
She nodded, pulled the denim around her, but fumbled with the buttons. Her fingers, so nimble and assured when sponging Jordan, were unresponsive. She exclaimed in frustration.
"Let me." Leon fastened the recalcitrant buttons.
She looked down at his dark head and the tanned nape of his neck, bare and vulnerable.