by Sarah Morgan
And yet over the past two days she’d seemed almost oblivious to her appearance.
Whoever said that women were a mystery hadn’t been exaggerating, Leandro mused, stretching out his legs and making himself comfortable.
He looked at the sleeping baby and felt a rush of emotion that shook his self-control.
Alone, abandoned, a mother who had used him as a pawn…
Determined not to continue down that path of thought, he dug his BlackBerry out of his pocket, intending to distract himself with work. Then he heard a noise and glanced up to find Millie standing in the door of the dressing room, which connected directly to both bathroom and bedroom.
Leandro slipped his phone back into his pocket. ‘That was quick.’ He scanned her appearance, noticing with surprise that she’d left her hair curling and loose in its natural state and that the only make-up she was wearing was a shimmer of clear gloss on the curve of her lips. She was wearing a simple green top over a pair of trousers. ‘I was expecting to wait at least an hour while you picked your outfit.’
Colour touched her cheeks and she gave a wan smile. ‘There didn’t seem much point in that. I’m no longer trying to impress you.’
Leandro frowned. ‘Is that what you used to do?’
‘Obviously I wanted to look my best.’ She stooped, sliding her slender feet into the pair of shoes she was carrying.
Still pondering on her comment, he noticed that the only concession to her old look was a pair of killer heels. ‘You never used to wear trousers.’
There was something in her expression that he couldn’t read. ‘I find trousers comfortable. Is it a problem?’
‘Not at all.’ They had problems far deeper than her choice of wardrobe, he mused, watching as she walked across to the cot and checked the baby again. Something was very wrong with her, and he had no idea what. ‘Are you ready? Alyssa has laid dinner on the terrace.’
Millie stared down at the baby as if willing him to wake up and save her, and Leandro stared at her frozen profile in mounting frustration, searching for clues.
Was she looking at the baby, wondering if it was his? Or was there something more going on here?
Reaching into the cot, she tucked the sheet tenderly around the sleeping baby and then withdrew her hand slowly. ‘I’m ready.’
She spoke the words like someone preparing to walk to their doom and her whole demeanour was such a dramatic contrast from the last time they’d stood in this villa that Leandro wanted to close his hands around her shoulders and demand answers.
But his years in business had taught him when to speak and when to stay silent and he chose to stay silent, his expression neutral as he urged her towards the terrace.
The evening was only just beginning, he reminded himself. They had plenty of time.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MILLIE felt sicker and sicker. Wishing the baby would wake up and rescue her, she pushed the food from one side of her plate to the other, unable to face the thought of challenging her churning stomach by eating.
Candles flickered on the centre of the table and the silence of the warm evening was disturbed only by the insistent chirping of the cicadas and the occasional splash as birds skimmed the beautiful infinity pool, stealing water.
Across from her, Leandro said nothing. He lounged with masculine grace, his relaxed stance in direct contrast to her own mounting agitation. He wore a casual polo shirt, the simplicity of his clothing somehow accentuating his raw masculinity. Whatever he wore, he looked spectacular, she thought helplessly, putting her fork down and giving up the pretence of eating. The beauty was in the man himself, not in the way he presented himself. It didn’t matter whether his powerful shoulders were showcased by an elegantly cut dinner jacket or a piece of simple cotton fabric, Leandro was all man. And that fact simply increased the churning in her stomach.
Or perhaps it was just because she was now more conscious than ever of the differences between her and the women he usually mixed with.
Had he had an affair?
The question played on her mind over and over again, a relentless torment fed by her own massive insecurities.
It was typical that he didn’t try and put her at her ease, she thought desperately. He was so confident himself, he never thought that someone else might not be so comfortable in a situation.
‘Alyssa must have been slaving all day,’ she said, making polite conversation. ‘The food is fantastic.’
‘Then why aren’t you eating any of it?’
‘I’m not that hungry.’
Leandro leaned across and spooned some creamy tzatsiki onto her plate. ‘When I first met you, you were always hungry. When I took you out to dinner, you ate three courses.’
‘I had a very physical job,’ Millie said defensively. ‘I worked on a farm. If I didn’t eat properly, I would have passed out.’
Leandro sat back in his chair, watching her across the table. ‘Now I’ve upset you and I have no idea why.’
‘You were criticising me.’
He tilted his head and she could see him rerunning the conversation through his brain. ‘Exactly how and when did I criticise you?’
‘You complained that I ate three courses, and—’
‘It wasn’t a complaint. It was a comment.’
‘Same thing.’
‘No, Millie,’ he said gently, an ironic gleam in his eyes. ‘It is not the same thing.’
‘You mix with women who don’t eat.’ She ignored the food he’d put on her plate. ‘In the circles you move in, eating is a bigger sin than adultery or wearing the wrong shade of pink. All the women are thin. A visible rib cage is as much a status symbol as a pair of Jimmy Choos. So when you point out I ate three courses, what am I supposed to think?’
His gaze was thoughtful. ‘You could think that the fact that you enjoy food and eating is one of the things I like about you.’
‘Actually, I couldn’t,’ Millie said hotly, the defensive movement of her head sending her hair spilling around her face. ‘Because I’m seeing no evidence to back it up. Apart from your momentary lapse with me, all the women you mix with clearly share DNA with stick insects. Take that actress—she’s enough to give any normal woman a complex and a major eating disorder.’
He inhaled slowly. ‘Your weight is clearly an issue.’
Millie played with her fork. ‘You noticed that? I’m a woman,’ she said sweetly. ‘Of course my weight is an issue.’
‘You have a fabulous body.’
‘By fabulous, you mean fat.’
‘I mean fabulous.’ His eyes gleamed with lazy amusement and a trace of exasperation. ‘Clearly I need a man-woman dictionary. Man says “fabulous”, woman translates that into meaning “fat”. Are there any other words in this unfathomable language I’m likely to need help with?’
‘I’ll let you know as we go along.’
‘Thank you.’ His tone dry, he leaned forward, and spooned some spicy sausage onto her plate next to the tzatsiki. ‘Eat. Alyssa has spent all day in the kitchen in honour of your arrival. She remembered that you loved all Greek food, especially this. It was your favourite.’
‘That was until someone told me how many calories were in each spoonful.’
‘Who told you?’
‘Oh, someone.’ Millie felt the colour flood into her cheeks as she recalled that particular encounter. ‘I expect she thought she was doing me a favour. Helping me fit into the strange world you live in.’
‘I live in the same world as you, Millie.’
She glanced around her, looking at their privileged surroundings. ‘If you think that, you’re deluded. You move in a whole different world to most people, Leandro. It’s no wonder I didn’t fit.’
He was very still. ‘Is that what you think?’ His tone was soft. ‘That you didn’t fit?’
‘It doesn’t take a genius to see I wouldn’t have had too much in common with some those waif-like celebrities you called your friends. My idea of a facial was splashin
g cold water to wake myself up at five in the morning during the harvest.’
He didn’t answer immediately but she sensed a new tension about him and bit her lip, feeling suddenly guilty.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘I didn’t mean to criticise your friends. I’m sure they’re lovely people. It wasn’t their fault. If you drop a baby elephant into the middle of a flock of elegant swans, you’ve got to expect to startle them.’
Leandro’s eyes glittered dark in the candlelight. ‘And are you supposed to be the baby elephant in that analogy?’ He sounded stunned. ‘That’s how you felt?’
Unsettled by his prolonged scrutiny, Millie shifted in her chair. ‘How did you think I felt?’
A muscle flickered in his jaw and he toyed with the stem of his elegant wineglass. ‘Honestly? I didn’t think about it. Unlike you, I don’t look for hidden meanings. Clearly I should have done.’
‘Not all communication is verbal, Leandro.’
‘Evidently not. But given your talent for reading me incorrectly, I think we’d better stick to the verbal sort for the time being. Tell me why you’re not eating tonight.’
‘My stomach is churning. I feel…sick.’
His dark brows met in a concerned frown. ‘You’re ill?’
‘No. Just nervous.’
‘Of what?’
‘You, of course.’
His eyes held hers. ‘I make you feel sick?’ The incredulity in his tone made her wish she’d kept her mouth shut.
‘Just a little bit.’ Her cheeks turned pink. ‘Well, quite a lot, actually.’
Leandro put the glass down on the table. ‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. I’m not a psychologist. Maybe I’m seriously screwed up about you. But I think it’s probably just the effect you have on me. Billionaire marries farm girl. It’s pretty obvious that farm girl is going to have some major insecurities.’
‘Billionaire marries farm girl,’ he countered, ‘and her insecurities vanish.’
‘They double.’
‘The way you think is a mystery to me.’
‘Obviously.’
He rose to his feet and dropped his napkin onto the table. His mouth was set and determined, his eyes never once leaving her face as he stood next to her. ‘Come.’
Millie looked at his outstretched hand. ‘Why? Where are we going?’
‘To put your insecurities to rest once and for all,’ he purred, drawing her to her feet in a firm, decisive movement that brought her into contact with his hard, athletic frame. ‘I intend to closely examine every curve of your fabulous body—and I mean fabulous, not fat,’ he breathed, covering her lips with his fingers so that she couldn’t interrupt, ‘and by the time I’ve finished with you, your insecurities will be in a puddle on the floor along with your clothes.’
But that wasn’t what was going to happen, was it? Millie’s heart pounded. She thought of her body. Thought of what he didn’t know. ‘I really wanted an early night.’
‘For once we agree on something.’ His eyes gleamed with sexual promise. ‘An early night followed by a lie-in. And another early night. The two might actually run together.’
Millie swallowed, her nerves almost snapping as she thought about the inevitable fallout of him taking her to bed.
‘I can’t—I just can’t—I need some time.’
‘I gave you time, Millie.’ His voice was steady. ‘I gave you space. And it was a mistake. All it did was widen the gulf between us. This time around we’re doing things a different way. My way.’
‘So I don’t have a choice.’
His eyes shimmered with amusement. ‘No, agape mou,’ he murmured. ‘There is no need to take on that martyred expression. I’m going to get to know you. Inside and out. In the past two days you have revealed more about yourself than you did in the entire time we were together. I am starting to realise that I didn’t know you at all, but that is going to change from this moment onwards.’ He trailed a finger over her flushed cheek. ‘From now on I want to know everything in your head. And I won’t let you shut me out.’
Standing in the bathroom, Millie pulled the robe tightly around her.
What was the best way to play this? Did she undress and walk into the bedroom naked? Or did she let him undress her?
Either way, it was going to be a disaster.
This was the moment she’d been dreading.
What was the point in putting it off any longer? Better to get it over with because the anticipation of what was to come was making her sick.
How would he react?
Forcing herself to move, she pushed open the door and stood for a moment, looking at him.
Leandro was sprawled on his back on the bed, eyes shut. His chest was bare and the light by the bed sent golden shadows across his sleek, bronzed shoulders.
In the year they’d been apart, he hadn’t changed. Millie’s gaze rested on the tangle of dark hair across the centre of his chest and then moved lower. He was naked, but he’d always been comfortable with his body, hadn’t he? And no wonder. He was astonishingly fit, his physique strong and masculine.
His astonishing good looks had attracted the attention of the most beautiful women in the world.
Why did he want her? Was it just that he didn’t believe in divorce? Was that the fragile bond that held them together?
Unable to see another possibility, she lost her confidence and would have slid back into the bathroom if his voice hadn’t stopped her.
‘If you run again, I’ll come after you. And if you lock the door, I’ll break it down. Your choice.’
Millie froze, her heart pounding frantically against her chest. But she moved forward, her legs stiff, as if they were trying to plead with her to take a different course of action. ‘It isn’t a choice, is it? You’re not giving me a choice.’
‘You made your choice when you decided to come back to me.’ His eyes were open now, and he was watching her with that shimmering masculine gaze that always turned her stomach upside down. ‘Come into the light where I can see you.’
Millie gripped the clasp of her robe tightly, wondering whether she was actually going to have the courage to go through with this.
She stood there shivering and he frowned and sprang from the bed, prowling across to her with surprising grace for such a powerfully built man.
Leandro closed his fingers over her shoulders and forced her to look at him. ‘I want to know what you’re thinking.’
‘Trust me, you don’t.’ Millie shook her head, the tears sitting in her throat like a brimming cup just waiting to overflow. She couldn’t cry now. Later. There’d be plenty of time for that later.
With a growl of frustration, he scooped her face into his hands and lowered his head to kiss her. ‘I don’t understand why you are so insecure. You are a very beautiful woman.’
Her courage failed.
Maybe, just maybe, if he hadn’t said those exact words she would have gone through with it.
‘I’m not beautiful,’ she croaked, dragging herself out of his arms. ‘I’m not beautiful. And I can’t do this. I just can’t.’
‘Why? Is this about what you think happened with your sister?’
‘No, no, it isn’t. It’s about what happened to me. It’s hopeless. I’m sorry, Leandro. I’m sorry.’ Before he could stop her, Millie stumbled out of the room. Blinded by tears, she banged against the doorframe in her haste to get away from him, but the sudden pain in her arm was eclipsed by the far greater pain in her heart. She took refuge in one of the guest suites at the far end of the villa. Stumbling into the bathroom, she locked the door securely behind her and slid to the floor without bothering to switch on the lights.
It was impossible. The whole situation was impossible. She should never have allowed him to blackmail her into giving their marriage another try. She just should have stood there, told him what had happened and walked out while she still had some shred of dignity left. And she should have found another way of being close to her nephe
w. Visits. Letters. Photos. Anything other than this.
Why had she agreed to stay?
Had some small, stupid part of her hoped that this horrible situation could still have a happy ending?
In the pit of despair, she let the tears fall.
The door crashed open and she gave a jerk of shock.
Leandro stood there, a powerful figure silhouetted against the light of the bedroom. ‘Every time you lock a door between us I’ll break it down,’ he vowed thickly, ‘and every time you run I will find you.’ With a soft curse, he flipped on the light and then sucked in a breath as it illuminated her ravaged features. His eyes fixed on her blotched, tear-stained face and his jaw tightened.
‘Millie? What the hell is going on?’ His voice was hoarse and he spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘Why are you crying? Maledizione, I never wanted to upset you like this. Stop it, agape mou. Nothing is this bad.’
‘Just leave me alone,’ she choked, hugging her knees against her chest and burying her face in her arms. ‘Please, leave me alone. Go and ring your actress.’ She heard him swear under his breath.
‘There is blood on your arm. You must have scraped it when you bumped into the doorframe. Let me look at it—’
‘Go away!’
For a moment she thought he’d acceded to her request but then she heard the solid tread of his footsteps and he squatted down beside her, strong and calm, a man able to cope with any problem that came his way.
‘You’re going to make yourself ill. Enough.’ Leandro slid his hands under her arms and lifted her to her feet and she looked up at him through eyes swollen with crying.
‘Yes, it is enough.’ Somehow she managed to get the words out. ‘Enough pretending that our relationship can ever work. Enough pretending we can have any sort of marriage. It’s over, Leandro. It’s over.’
‘You are extremely upset,’ he breathed, holding her firmly so that she couldn’t slide to the floor again, ‘and it is never a good idea to make decisions when you’re upset.’
‘My decision is going to be the same whenever I make it. I mean it, it’s over.’ Her voice rose and he cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him.