by Isabel Keats
Leopold drove in silence all the way back to London, and when he left Catalina and Milo at the door to their apartment, all he said was, “Good night.”
“Please, Leo. Don’t be angry with me.”
Cat reached out and stroked his cheek. Her neighbor thought it the kind of gesture she might offer to a mangy dog, and he moved away, as if her hand had burned him. “I’m not angry,” he lied with great dignity. “Good night, Catalina.”
“Good night, Leo.”
CHAPTER 11
For the next few weeks, Leopold kept his promise to himself and went to every event, dinner, and social occasion he was invited to. He met lots of women, but he found something that he disliked in each of them: one was too serious, another too short, this one too noisy, that one too nice. Harry despaired and told him that if he kept this up, the famous heir to the Sinclair empire would have to be ordered from a lab.
Leopold was exhausted. Work continued at a brisk pace and, going out so often, he barely slept. He had no time to go running or play chess, so he hadn’t seen his neighbor again. And he didn’t miss her, he told himself.
Sometimes, when he came home to his immaculate and silent apartment, he surprised himself by thinking it was about as welcoming as an operating theater. He was always in a bad mood lately, and he took it out on innocent people with no justification whatsoever, which made him feel even worse. An intense feeling of dissatisfaction seemed to gnaw at him at all hours, and though he kept telling himself that he was a thoroughly happy person, he cursed Catalina Stapleton for his miserable state of mind.
“You can’t carry on like this, Leopold,” Harry said to him one day, seeing his pale face and the dark rings around his eyes.
“Like what?”
“You’re going to give yourself a heart attack. Come on, spill the beans, old chap. What’s happening? Is it your mother? Is she still hounding you?”
“Stop being a twit, Harry. There’s nothing wrong with me.”
Harry let it go for the time being, but as soon as he arrived home he mentioned his concerns to his wife. “I bet you anything it’s about a woman,” Lisa said, convinced.
“Nonsense. I’ve introduced him to every attractive single woman in London, and he didn’t like any of them.”
“All that proves is that this isn’t about one of those dumb big-busted blondes you insist on finding for him,” his wife replied with scorn.
“In that case, who else am I supposed to set him up with? Leopold literally doesn’t have time to meet other women.”
Meanwhile, Cat continued with life as normal. She missed the chess games and conversation with Leo, but she knew that if he didn’t want to see her, there was nothing she could do about it. Catalina also knew that Leopold was a tremendously proud man, and she had hit a nerve. She sighed. She was sorry to have lost a friend, but she hoped that in the long run, it would come to benefit her neighbor.
Things might have remained the same forever had Leo not found himself in a strange situation one day. He’d received an invitation to a charity ball that would be attended by the cream of London society, organized by a powerful tycoon with whom he was keen to do business.
He knew everyone attended such evenings with a partner, but Leo had no one at the moment. He also knew that any of the women Harry had introduced him to would give anything to go with him, not because he was so irresistible—he was under no illusions about that—but because he was rich, from good stock, and because the ball promised to be the social event of the year. But he didn’t feel like going with any of them. So he decided to swallow his pride and ask his neighbor to be his date; at least she wouldn’t get the wrong idea about his intentions.
Before he could change his mind, he planted himself in front of Catalina’s front door and rang the bell. He had to ring twice more before the door finally opened and Cat, her face and hands covered in paint, her hair tied in an untidy bun, her old jeans covered by her tattered, stained apron, stood staring at him openmouthed.
“Leo!”
“Hello, Catalina. I’ve come to ask you for a favor,” he said, as if they’d seen each other the previous day.
“Come in. I was painting, but I’ve just finished and I was about to have some dinner. Will you join me?”
Leopold followed her into the welcoming living room where a fire crackled in the hearth. Milo was dozing near it and barely lifted his head to acknowledge the newcomer. As usual, there were fresh flowers in a giant glass vase and a few objects lying around, which immediately told a visitor that the place was lived in. “You’re covered in paint.” Unable to resist, he reached out and rubbed at an indigo blob on her jaw with his thumb, but the paint was dry and the gesture only made his fingers tingle for a good while afterward. Despite her unkempt appearance, Leopold thought she looked beautiful. There was something about his neighbor’s face, he didn’t know what, that relaxed him. “I could rustle something up while you have a wash, if you want.”
“Fantastic, Leo. I promise I’ll be quick.” She gave him a smile that took his breath away.
Leopold went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. There wasn’t much there, but in the back he discovered some lettuce, a couple of tomatoes, some ham and some cheese, and after making homemade mayonnaise, he prepared some sandwiches. His neighbor only had water or Coke to drink, so he grabbed a couple of cans of the soda, filled some glasses with ice, and added them to the tray. He took everything to the living room, and within a few minutes, Cat reappeared.
She’d changed her jeans for a newer pair, and now wore a black turtleneck sweater and thick woolen socks. Her hair, after what he imagined to be a great deal of brushing, had been pulled into a tidy ponytail, and her face, without a trace of makeup and now paint-free, was smooth and unblemished. Cat sat with her legs crossed on the sofa, and Leo thought she looked absurdly young.
He handed her a plate and served her some Coke in a glass. She pounced on the sandwich and took a big bite. “Mmm, delicious,” she said with her mouth full.
Her neighbor smiled, suddenly aware of how much he’d missed her. In spite of her rudeness and inappropriate comments, he enjoyed being with her. He took a bite of his sandwich and congratulated himself: it was extremely good. When they’d finished their dinner, Catalina rested her head on the back of the sofa and closed her eyes. “What’s the favor you wanted to ask me?”
“Well, the thing is, I need a partner for a ball.”
Cat’s eyes shot open and she looked at him in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Not at all. I need a date for the Health4U charity event.”
“You’ve got to be joking! Any woman would kill to be invited to that ball. What about Alison? Have you had a row?”
“Let’s just say that in all likelihood Alison will go as the date of a business rival I completely loathe.”
“I see.” She gave him a mischievous laugh. “So you want to make the stunning Alison jealous?”
“Not exactly.” Still, he didn’t mind if Cat believed that was his true motive. He didn’t even really understand himself why he’d asked his neighbor to accompany him, but he preferred not to think about that for the time being. “So, can I count on you?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world!” Cat replied with enthusiasm.
“As for your dress, I’ll pay for it. You don’t have to spend your money.”
“Don’t worry about that, Leo. My friend Fiona has a vintage boutique. I’m sure we can rustle something up between the two of us.”
He looked at her dubiously, but decided not to say anything. “Perfect. I’ll pick you up Friday at six thirty.”
On Friday, at half past six on the dot, Leopold rang his neighbor’s bell. The door opened and he stood stock-still on the threshold, incapable of saying a word.
Catalina wore an elegant red shoulder-strap dress that hugged her slender figu
re like a latex glove and complemented her creamy skin tone. A few silky swirls of hair escaped from the high bun on her head. Her dress was outrageously backless, and a seductive slit on one side revealed a glimpse of her fabulous legs. She wore four-inch heels that brought her almost as high as Leopold’s nose. He realized he was still gaping at her, his mouth open, and he quickly shut it, trying to gather his thoughts. “You look fantastic,” he eventually managed to stammer.
Her sultry lips, painted in a subtle shade of red, spread into a satisfied smile. “Thanks, Leo, you don’t look so bad yourself.” Cat ran her eyes over the distinguished gentleman in front of her, sheathed in an elegant black tuxedo. The beautiful Alison was going to die of envy.
Leopold noticed the wicked glint in Catalina’s eyes and felt a tiny bit sorry for Alison. “Allow me.” He took the coat that hung from her arm and helped her put it on. The combination of her subtle perfume and the scent of her skin once again made Leopold’s nostrils flare, and he swallowed hard. Trying to control the far from appropriate thoughts that were whirling around in his head, he gently rested one of his strong hands on her waist and led her to the door.
During the car ride, Leo could barely take his eyes off Cat, who was chatting to him in her usual animated way, and he had to take several deep breaths, desperately trying to regain his composure. As they arrived at the entrance to the spectacularly lit building where the ball was taking place, the flashes of the paparazzi’s cameras went off tirelessly, and Leopold was aware that their photograph would appear in the society section of all of the newspapers the next day.
Finally, they reached the top of the steps, where the host was welcoming the guests. The man greeted them cordially and invited them into a space decorated with a riot of flowers and candles. Leopold noticed that the male guests couldn’t take their eyes off Catalina, while the women curiously looked her over, and he at once felt a mixture of irritation and pride. Several of his acquaintances approached them, and he made the introductions, Catalina talking with all of them in her naturally friendly way.
“Look who’s here. Leo and his little neighbor.” Alison’s shrill voice made him jump, though he hid it well.
“Hello, Alison. Stuart. Darling, you already know Alison, and this is Brad Stuart. Stuart, this is Catalina Stapleton.” Brad kissed Cat’s hand, making no attempt to hide his lasciviousness as he looked her up and down.
“Gosh, Sinclair! You certainly have an eye for beauty.”
If looks could kill, Brad Stuart would have immediately dropped to the floor if he’d caught Alison’s, packed with a lethal dose of venom. “I think we’re at the same table, dear.” Alison smiled at Leopold in such a suggestive way that Cat wanted to rip the smirk off her face and stomp on it with her sharp heels.
“I’m going to show Catalina around. We’ll see you later.”
“I don’t know how you can be jealous of Brad,” Cat remarked when they were at a safe distance from the couple. “He’s a P.A.H.”
“A P.A.H.? Not a B.O.W.?” Leopold asked.
“No, he’s a P.A.H. A Pot-bellied Arrogant Hypocrite.”
Leo contained a smile. “I reckon you have his psychological profile down to a T.”
“You think so?” Cat shot him a satisfied smile.
“But for your information, I’m not in the least bit jealous of him. Alison means nothing to me.”
“Leo, sweetheart, you don’t have to pretend with me, but tonight Alison is going to regret with every fiber of her being that she let you get away.”
Catalina found the dinner tremendously interesting and illuminating: she concluded that the rich and powerful were as predictable and whiney as the not-at-all rich or powerful. She was even amused by the veiled gibes that Alison sent her way whenever she had the opportunity. She noticed the seductive looks the woman kept giving Leo, and was pleased to find that he seemed immune to them.
Leo watched her chat with the people sitting near her, while fending off Alison’s sneering skillfully. Seated beside Cat was their host, the man with whom Leopold hoped to do business, and for most of the dinner the two of them were engaged in an animated conversation.
Leopold, who knew the host well and was aware that he was a bitter and unpleasant man, was amazed to see him burst out laughing at something Catalina said on at least two occasions. Catalina was proving to be full of surprises, and he was glad he’d invited her; having a female friend could come in very handy, he thought.
After dinner, the orchestra began to play. Leopold approached Cat just as the host stood to dance with his wife. “I say, Sinclair. I don’t recall another gala dinner that was so much fun. You must bring Cat more often; she’s a little devil.” He gently pinched the young woman’s chin before leading his wife toward the dance floor. Leopold sat in the vacated chair.
“Are you having a good time?”
“Fabulous. Thank you for inviting me. Fiona was green with envy when I told her about it.” Once again, her wonderful smile dazzled him.
“Your dress is very nice,” he remarked, trying not to devour her with his eyes.
“Thank you, it’s a Valentino. Fiona has some real gems in her shop.”
“All the men are jealous of me,” he said earnestly.
She smiled at him. “The women want to scratch my eyes out for being with you, especially the stunning Alison.”
“You dealt with her sniping awfully well.”
“She’s not the first catty woman I’ve come up against.” The orchestra began to play the first notes of a slow dance.
“May I?”
“I’d love to.”
She stood and Leopold put his arms around her waist. Catalina rested her hands on his broad shoulders and lifted her face toward his, gazing up at him with her velvety-brown eyes. “Christopher seemed to like you.” Leopold tried to concentrate on something other than the warmth of her skin, which permeated the fine material of her dress and burned his fingertips.
“Chris? Oh, he’s quite a charming man.”
“You shortened his name, too? What informality!” He felt oddly irritated.
“He requested I call him that.”
Leo frowned. He was amazed. “He asked you to call him Chris? I don’t believe it. Christopher Harrison’s the most uptight, misanthropic person I know.”
“I think you’re mistaken, Leo,” she said in all seriousness. “Not only did we have plenty of laughs during dinner, but he promised to make a substantial donation to the school where I work. So you can see why I find it hard to believe that he detests all of humanity.”
“You’re incredible. I never would’ve imagined he’d do that.”
“That’s not a compliment, is it, Leo dearest?” Catalina raised a mocking eyebrow.
“I’m not sure,” he replied severely.
“You should change your expression.” Cat shot him a suggestive smile, making Leopold forget to breathe for a few seconds. “The beautiful Alison’s watching us.”
“Really? Then I should do this.” Leo held her closer to him, until Cat could feel every one of his powerful muscles against her skin. Then he bent his head and delicately kissed her brow.
“Gosh, Leo, I didn’t know you were such a good actor.”
“You didn’t?” he murmured, his warm fingers gliding slowly across her back. Cat felt like purring.
Resting her head against his strong shoulder, she closed her eyes. Her hair brushed his cheek, and Leopold had to restrain himself from burying his face in the hollow of her neck and biting the creamy skin there that was hypnotizing him. For the duration of the song, the two of them lost all notion of time and held each other close. They glided around the dance floor to the lilting melody of the music. When the final notes had been played, it took them a few seconds to separate from each other. Eventually, Cat lifted her face to his, slowly blinking as if waking from a dream. “I think we shou
ld be careful with these tactics for making Alison jealous, Leo dearest—they could get addictive.” Her voice was a husky whisper.
Leopold simply stared at her intently and said nothing. Cat sensed something had changed, because for the rest of the night he seemed tense. Her neighbor remained by her side for most of the evening, and they shared friendly conversation with everyone who approached them, but she could see that he had put up a barrier between them again. Many men asked her to dance, but Leopold did not take to the floor with her again. When, finally, her neighbor said good night to her at the door to her apartment, Catalina turned and thanked him. “I had a lovely time, Leo. It was a splendid party.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Catalina,” he replied stiffly.
“Is something wrong? Have I said something to upset you again?” She fixed her affectionate brown eyes on his.
“Of course not!” He gave her an insincere smile. “Miss Catalina Stapleton was perfect for the entire evening.”
She looked at him for a few seconds without speaking, then stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “Good night, Leo.”
After Catalina had closed her door behind her, Leopold allowed himself to unclench the fists that he’d been pressing against his thighs for the last few minutes; it was all he could do to stop himself from grabbing the young woman, pressing her against him, and kissing her until she was gasping for breath.
He ambled back to his apartment. As soon as he was through the door, he chucked his tuxedo jacket on the armchair, loosened his bow tie, and undid the top buttons of his shirt, as if doing so would restore his breathing to its usual relaxed rhythm. But it didn’t. He was panting as if he’d just run a marathon.
It can’t be! he told himself, despairing, running his hands through his short gray hair. He had realized the truth when the song they’d been dancing to had ended and Cat had lifted her face toward his. Seeing those brown eyes that seemed to caress him with their gaze, he understood that for the first time in his life, he had fallen madly in love. It’s impossible, he repeated, getting up from the sofa and pacing around the room like a caged tiger. The woman drives me up the wall most of the time, she’s always laughing at me, she’s brazen and rude, we belong to different worlds . . . He thought about the mixed feelings that had thumped around in his chest while they danced together, with her head resting on his shoulder. He’d wanted to make love to her right there, but at the same time, he wanted to simply hold her—to protect her against everything and everyone, as if all the tenderness that he didn’t even know he had in him was suddenly trying to get out. He wanted her to have eyes only for him, for her to be his and his only. No one else had ever had that effect on him. Nonsense. It’s not love, it’s just desire. The excitement that her mere presence makes me feel will disappear if we sleep together. Yes, his inner monologue continued, I must sleep with her—once, twice, as many times as needed to put out the fire burning in my belly. Then I’ll be able to forget about her and continue with my life as before.