Deleilah

by Bowes, K T

  “No sweat,” Dante replied, reaching for Leilah’s hand. “It’s good to be home and behave like myself instead of acting like Heaven’s broker all the time. The city’s a hard place to be when you’re not on your game.”

  “Don’t I know it.” Leilah sighed and hugged her knees. “I felt relieved when Michael stopped taking me to all the luncheons and charity functions. I thought it was because he knew I hated the false socialising and pretence at niceties. It was actually because he’d replaced me with a woman young enough to be my daughter.”

  Dante snorted. “Only if you got pregnant at twelve. Shit happens, Leilah. Get over it.”

  “Easy for you to say,” she bit, taking his lack of sympathy as a personal slight and snatching her hand back. “When have you ever been replaced by anyone?”

  “Hey.” His eyes grew sad and his lips turned down, giving the handsome face another aspect. Dante wiped his hands on his trousers and scooted across, laying his arm across Leilah’s shoulders. “The only girl who ever dropped me on my ass babe, was you. You left me high and dry and a guy’s got to fill his time somehow.”

  Leilah smiled. “By shagging most of Auckland’s finest? Great way to occupy yourself. I hope there’s money in your piggy bank for the disease clinic.”

  Dante put his head back and roared with laughter. “That’s our Leilah, always the practical one.” He pulled her into his chest and kissed the side of her head. “Love you, babe. Always have, always will.”

  Leilah sighed into the crisp white shirt, smelling expensive aftershave and feeling the lush fabric against her cheek. “Why are you in town and not wining and dining some young lovely in the big smoke?”

  “Rather be here, with you, babe.” Dante’s smile leaked into his voice and Leilah slapped his thigh.

  “Whatever.”

  “I heard you weren’t short of suitors.” Dante squeezed Leilah’s shoulders and put his index finger under her chin to raise her head. “You won’t marry Vaughan, will you?” His eyes narrowed and Leilah pulled away.

  “So, the jungle drums have been beating. It’s nothing to do with you, my friend. You don’t get an opinion.”

  “Yeah, I do.” Dante’s face screwed into a pout. “He’s not good enough for you; I won’t let you put his ring on your finger, babe.”

  “Ok.” Leilah kept her voice bland, pulling away and reaching for the broom to brush away her companion’s crumbs. “I need to clear up and sort myself out for the night. I’m sure you’ve got a motel to go to and a bar to pick up a girl in.”

  “Unless you invite me to stay.” Dante’s palms felt warm against Leilah’s hips and she ducked to dodge his lips on hers, smirking as his kiss slapped against the side of her temple.

  “No, thanks, I’m good. I know how your sleepovers end.”

  Dante wrinkled his perfect nose and slapped Leilah’s bum as she moved away, wielding the broom in front of her like a shield. He paused on the front porch and examined the house with a critical eye. “What made you buy it?” he asked, curious blue eyes raking the cracked wood and flaking paintwork. “I suppose the land has value.” His eyes flicked back to Leilah’s face and he moved forward to clasp her around the waist. Dante hauled her body into his, pressing his masculinity against her groin and Leilah hissed and pulled away.

  “Dante, no!”

  “Spoilsport. Look, I’ll take the house and land off your hands and you can come back to Auckland with me. Start again and don’t look back.”

  Leilah shook her head. “You don’t understand. I want to be here; I’ve missed it.”

  “Haven’t you missed me?” He fished with his eyes and Leilah spotted the hurt lurking beneath the veneer of assurance. “Don’t you want me anymore?” He ran a possessive hand along the underside of her jaw, cupping her chin in his palm.

  Leilah’s cheeks pinked with shame, their assignation the night before court a dreadful mistake in her mind. “It’s not like that.” She struggled not to inflict yet more damage and fought for the appropriate one liner. Her brain fought for clarity; Dante Spurgeon was the king of the one-night stand. He’d had more sex in his lifetime than Zeus and she swallowed at the memory of their frantic, needy lovemaking.

  “You don’t trust me?” He saved her the bother of the word search and his blue eyes flared with the thrill of the chase. “I’d stay faithful to you, Deleilah, I promise.”

  He gave her the opening and she forced her expression to change from dismay to humour. “Faithful? I don’t think you know what that is.” Bitterness seeped into her tone. “You took advantage of me. The last thing I needed back then was a quick shag, Dante.”

  “I don’t do quick.” He smirked, his eyes glazing at the memory of her slender thighs wrapped around his waist, her ankles crossed behind him as they rode it out in the dead volcanic crater at One Tree Hill, the remnants of scarred grey rock shaving the skin from her buttocks as Dante thrust her against them with furious energy. Leilah shook her head to dispel the shared image. If you did it standing up, you couldn’t get pregnant. Who told her that lie?

  Leilah looked away, unable to hold his gaze. “If you tell anyone, I’ll punch you in the nuts.”

  Dante laughed and stroked the backs of his knuckles along her cheekbone. “Do it,” he teased. “Pain can be fun.” His eyes flashed with a dangerous, iridescent quality and Leilah hardened her heart towards his semi-genuine offer of companionship and safety.

  “You don’t mean a word of it,” she replied, injecting the sigh into her voice with force. “The first pair of over inflated boobs and you’d be off and chasing them. I don’t need that kind of life again, thanks.”

  Dante’s thumb strayed to her mouth and he ran the pad over her bottom lip with sensuous skill, drawing out the moment while his gaze burned a hole in her soul. “If I put a ring on it,” he breathed, “would you trust me then?”

  Leilah inhaled and drew back, unable to cover her confusion. She snapped the tenuous link between them and held the breath until her lungs protested. The gigolo veneer abandoned Dante, leaving the frightened teenager in its stead; the terrified fifteen year old with the dead mum and the gay dad, fighting to stay ahead of the spiteful, adult game of hide-the-emotion.

  “I just got divorced!” The words hit the air as a hushed cry, her vocal chords straining with the effort of not screaming it. Leilah’s treacherous mind flipped back to the memory of Dante in the moonlight, stark naked and muscular as he lifted her onto him and the feral groans he made in the back of his throat. A flash of desire cauterised her good sense and she faltered, wondering if all her life lacked was another fumble with an old and loyal friend.

  Conscience and common sense stood on the thought before it could fully birth, crushing it like a nest of ants dashing to hide their exposed eggs. “I can’t do this.” Leilah shucked Dante’s hands and put her palm against his chest. The accompanying shove caused him to replace the mask of disinterest with deceptive care.

  “Your loss,” he replied, turning the whole thing into a joke. He tucked his shirt into his trousers, making no attempt to hide the betrayal straining behind the zipper. “But I still want to buy Hector’s place. Name your price.”

  “It’s not for sale.” On safer ground, Leilah took a step back and rallied, confidence seeping back into her bones. “You could’ve bought it any time in the last few months.”

  Dante’s fists balled by his sides, white knuckles showing through the golden tanned fingers. “It came out of probate the day you bought it. My offer was already on the table but you smashed it. Bloody real estate agent didn’t even ring me.”

  “You were the buyer?” Leilah narrowed her eyes. “You offered half the value.”

  Dante’s blue eyes flashed like hazard lights and Leilah took a step back. “That bitch had a duty to call and give me an opportunity to raise my offer.”

  “She said you weren’t prepared to.” Leilah narrowed her eyes, seeing through Dante’s anger as though able to read the transparency within. She che
wed on her bottom lip, Marlene’s obvious disdain for the other buyer suddenly clear in its origins. “You thought nobody else wanted it, didn’t you?” Leilah’s stomach curdled with disgust. “You believed the family would take your pathetic offer because they had no choice.”

  “She still should’ve come back to me.” Dante’s eyes flared with venom which super-heated his gaze on Leilah’s face.

  Leilah shook her head and returned Dante’s firebrand. “If you do anything to hurt Marlene’s business, I’ll make you sorry. The offer you made was final and non-negotiable and she had no obligation towards you.” She tossed her dark locks and smirked. “Serves you right for crapping on your own doorstep. First rule of business, Dante. Don’t soil the nest.” She whirled away, her feet making tap-tapping noises on the warm deck. Inward cursing helped her ignore the feel of Dante’s eyes boring pin holes in her back as he strolled down the driveway, but a flutter of fear crossed her heart like a thin, gossamer thread.

  Chapter 45

  Confessions and Distress

  “I came to apologise.” Leilah wrung her hands as she paced Tane’s office, watching his strong chest rise and fall as though unmoved by her agony.

  “Well make it quick, I knock off soon.” He twirled a pen in agile fingers, making it dance like a spinning ballerina. His lips quirked up in a smirk.

  “I didn’t expect you to enjoy me grovelling.”

  Tane rolled his eyes. “Why are you in Te Mutunga Iho, Leilah? So far you’ve upset me and Vaughan and I gave Dante a ride back from the edge of town last night. He didn’t look too happy and I gather he’d visited you, not that he’d tell me why.” He put the pen on his desk with a thud. “There’s a delicate status quo in this town, Leilah. You can’t walk in and behave like it’s Auckland.”

  “I’m not trying to!” Leilah stamped her foot. “I just need a friend, Tane.” Her eyes softened. “At the moment, you’re not trying to sleep with me or marry me so it looks like you’re the safest bet.”

  “Nice. Thanks!” He looked fed up. “Least eligible friend. Can’t say I’ve been called that before. I’m guessing the vultures are circling around the rich divorcee.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. You know what I mean. I got a text from Michael telling me to call the sale off or he’d hurt my daughter.” She gritted her teeth, begging him not to reveal his knowledge as she slumped into the chair opposite.

  Tane took the phone from her hand and peered at the message. “That’s not cool. He can’t make threats like that.”

  “Well, he did. What can I do about it?”

  “You can get a court order to make him stay away from you and her. She’s an adult so she’ll need to request her own.”

  Leilah closed her eyes. “The sale went through days ago. He must know that. Why make threats when he knows I can’t change anything?”

  “Bluffing maybe.” Tane watched her face. “You sure know how to pick the assholes.”

  “Thanks!” Leilah stood up in temper, scraping the chair back. Her shoulders drooped. “I deserved that, I guess.”

  “Yeah, you did.” Tane slapped a wad of papers on the desk in front of him. “Statements. Read and sign them. They both relate to Harvey Gilroy.”

  Leilah eyed the papers with misery. “I don’t think I want to go through with it, Tane.” She shook her head. “I can’t do this. Give me time to think about it.”

  “Tick-tock.” Tane scooped the papers up and dumped them in his in-tray.

  Leilah searched his face for friendship, seeing only irritation. “I did something stupid and now it’s come back to bite me.”

  “Do tell.” Tane feigned interest, tapping on his keyboard and squinting at emails.

  “I can’t say exactly what,” Leilah said, thudding her bottom into the chair opposite. “Especially because it’s you!” Her rattled stamp around Hector’s place after Dante’s departure seemed juvenile in the face of Tane’s nonchalance. Vulnerability was a bitch.

  “Why’s that?” Tane asked, his interest rising. “Was it illegal? Do I need to cite you for it?”

  Leilah shook her head and then changed the action to a slow nod as realisation dawned across her face like an eclipse. She ran a hand over her eyes. “Yes, it probably was.”

  Tane leaned forward in his chair, his eyes wide with the scent of prey. “Should I lock you up?” A low chuckle emanated from his chest as he did a poor impression of a movie psychopath.

  Leilah swallowed. “Not that serious.”

  “Ah.” Tane looked bored and went back to his emails. He rocked the chair backwards on two legs and Leilah suppressed the urge to reach under the table with her boot and give him a helpful shove onto the back of his head. “We’ve all done that,” he said, the smirk falling from his lips at the horrified look Leilah gave him.

  “Done what?” She swallowed and her fingers writhed harder in her lap.

  “Well, you were scared to tell me even before you remembered it was illegal,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “So, I’m guessing it’s something you wouldn’t want people to know.” He searched the white ceiling as though for answers and then gave her a stern look. “I’m picking you bumped uglies in a public place. Arrestable offence under indecency law and guaranteed to get you a night in the lock up.” His indifference gave her confidence and Leilah relaxed.

  “Dante told you.” Leilah released the breath causing a gridlock in her lungs and slapped her boots up on the edge of Tane’s table. The motor in her chest stopped pumping out blood as though trying to fill her chest cavity and the thud dulled to a steady thrum. Stretching out in her chair she saw the fleeting dart of pain shoot across his eyes.

  “Dante?” His voice sounded flat and disbelieving and Leilah’s stomach restarted its sickening dance as she realised her error. “You slept with Dante?”

  “I thought you knew. It’s why we argued last night. He was there for me and I was weak and stupid. Now he won’t let it go.” Leilah crossed her feet at the ankles, preferring the flash of annoyance in Tane’s eyes to the devastation of a few seconds ago. “One Tree Hill. We did it in the crater.” The hurt in Tane’s eyes compounded until he managed to shut it off from view but something in Leilah raised its spiteful head and she pushed without understanding why. “We did it standing up,” she said, watching his face.

  Tane swallowed and pulled his gaze from her stunning blue eyes. “Stop it,” he said, his voice an agonising hush. “I don’t want your confession, Lei. I’m happily married. You do what you like; you always did.” He wrestled with something inward, a demon of his own creation and turned his body towards a filing cabinet at his right elbow. He delved in, grabbing a hefty file and slapping it on his desk in dismissal. “If there’s nothing else,” he said, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat like an arcade game. “I’m busy, Lei.”

  She pulled her boots from the desk and stood in a fluid action, settling her tee shirt over her bum. Tane avoided her eye, his fingers fluttering across the papers spread over his desk like flotsam. “I’m sorry, babe,” she said, regret seeping into her words. On impulse she rounded the desk and clasped his face in her hands. “I didn’t mean it,” she whispered, kissing his forehead and cheeks. He appeared so incongruous in the police uniform, the sensitive boy of her youth trapped in the body of a gentle, heartbroken giant.

  Chapter 46

  Seline’s Father

  “Get out!” Leilah emerged from her freezing shower in a searing temper, not even able to find comfort in hot water and clean smelling soap. The conditioner left white blobs in her hair and the shower gel which lathered in the initial temperature, became immovable in the icy douse the clanking boiler subjected her to.

  “No.” Her visitor shook his head and took light footsteps towards her. “I’m not leaving, Deleilah. I know I messed up.” His feather light touch made her flesh recoil in a paradox of emotions. She wanted him here. She didn’t.

  Leilah gulped and swallowed, scrunching the flimsy towel closer to her body as she turned
her back on him. Their shared ecstasy rose between them like a haze, condemning their frantic teenage fumbling. He’d seen it all before; seen it, touched it, tasted it. At eighteen and newly inducted into the adult world of sex, they’d been insatiable and Leilah felt the burn of desire accompanied by the toll of alarm bells. She felt herself slip backwards in time to an era of teenage exploration and lust. She wanted him then and the passage of time did nothing to diminish the need.

  He trailed a lazy index finger down the side of her face and she felt him willing her to turn around. His soul spoke to hers, re-staking its tenuous claim, turning the fragile link between them into something concrete and permanent. ‘We’re still married, remember?’ his body cried, leaning against her spine and cupping her firm breasts in his warm palms.

  He kissed her from behind, his upside-down face raking her cheeks with his stubble. Hungry for more, Leilah turned, losing the towel from her grasp. He stood on it on purpose and watched the shabby fabric shiver past her knees. Laid bare, she lost confidence and covered her breasts with folded arms, watching his face for disappointment. A silvery trail of stretch marks bore evidence of her pregnancy which even the expensive tummy tuck failed to remove. Leilah looked down at her breasts. The tom-boy-fried-eggs he’d once caressed with love looked heavy in his palms, the nipples behaving as all augmented nipples should, like blank faced soldiers on parade. Leilah studied his face as his fingers roved her body, seeing only arousal and pure pleasure in the face of Seline’s father.

  His kiss began with softness and ended in a nip which promised fun and satisfaction. As he stepped back and stripped his tee shirt over his head, she opened her mouth to speak. “I can’t do this,” she began, but he silenced her, pulling her body into his and reminding her of vows spoken long ago on a sunny riverbank.