Her Christmas Fantasy & The Winter Bride (33 page)

‘You crushed me…' Angie mumbled tightly.

Leo released his breath in a dark, driven hiss. ‘It wouldn't have been fair to leave you with the impression that I might come back to you.'

A humourless laugh was squeezed from her thickened throat. ‘You should be proud of yourself; you were very successful!'

‘I
know
…' Leo gave that low-pitched agreement a strange, weighted significance, his lean, strong face shadowed and taut.
‘I'm very thorough in most things that I set out to do. It was a crazy, wonderful weekend, but it became too intense too soon. I had to draw back to take stock for both our sakes.'

Suddenly, Angie couldn't bring herself to look at him. Tears sprang to her eyes. This was the real truth she was hearing now, she thought in agony. ‘Too intense.' She had shown her feelings too openly, and no doubt he had registered what an embarrassment she could become. So ‘wonderful' a weekend, but not one he had had any desire to repeat…not so wonderful after all.

The mattress gave slightly with his weight. With surprising gentleness, Leo looped the veil of her pale hair off her strained profile and let his knuckles brush softly across one taut cheekbone. ‘You're such a baby sometimes…you just won't look before you leap. I'm not an impulsive man, but that weekend I seized the moment and I didn't see the consequences until it was too late. There was a price to be paid. I didn't
want
to hurt you—'

‘But you did…you couldn't get away from me quickly enough!'

Leo closed a powerful arm round her rigid shoulders and forced her close. ‘I didn't trust myself anywhere near you…'

Struggling for breath, terrified she might lose control and howl all over him, Angie thrust her damp face into his broad shoulder, dimly wondering how on earth she had ended up welded to his long, hard frame like a second skin, but receiving too much vicarious security from the embrace to have the will-power to move away.

‘And I still don't,' Leo muttered in unexpected continuance, burying his mouth with a muffled groan in the scented hollow of her collarbone, and ensuring that every pulse in her body leapt into sudden, startled and treacherous life.

Leo lifted his head again. Angie pressed helpless fingers
to the tiny pulse flickering like mad at the base of her throat. She was trembling without even being aware of it.

In the rushing silence, Leo reached behind her to pull down the zip on her dress. He eased it down over her arms, exposing the firm swell of her breasts, cupped in a blue lace bra and shifting with every jerky breath she snatched in. Slowly he pushed her back against the pillows.

Shimmering dark golden eyes roamed over her with intense male appreciation. He peeled the dress expertly down over her hips, drew it off and cast it aside. Then he slid fluidly off the bed and began to undress, ripping open the press studs on his shirt, revealing sun-bronzed skin and the rough pelt of black curls hazing his powerful pectoral muscles. He shrugged out of the garment, sleek brown shoulders emerging, a taut, flat stomach. Her attention locked onto him, mouth running dry, pulses starting to race.

‘You make me feel like an exhibitionist,' Leo murmured with vibrant amusement.

Angie lowered her lashes, cheeks on fire. ‘You've never been shy,' she breathed unevenly.

Leo laughed softly and shed the rest of his clothing. He was hugely aroused, supremely unconcerned by the fact. Angie tensed, suddenly desperately shy of him and aware of his virile masculinity with every skin-cell in her taut body.

‘Come here…' He eased her to him, sliding a long, lean, darkly haired thigh between hers as he leant over her, all male in his dominance, and circled her lips teasingly with his. Angie stopped breathing. He nibbled at her full lower lip and she gave a little jump, the coil of wicked anticipation within her twisting ever tighter. He shifted sinuously over her and let the tip of his tongue dip erotically between her lips, making her shudder.

‘Leo…'

‘Patience,
pethi mou
… I've waited a very long time for
this, and I intend to savour every moment,' Leo breathed huskily.

And then he crushed her soft mouth under his until every sense swam and she closed her arms round him in a sudden, convulsive movement.

Leo raised his head. ‘That's better,' he told her, angling back from her to flick loose the front-fastening bra, baring her full breasts for his perusal.

He ran a caressing fingertip over one achingly erect rosy nipple, and a choked little sound broke in the back of Angie's throat. Leo surveyed her with immense satisfaction and dropped his dark head to torment that sensitive peak with his mouth. Frantic heat sprang up low in her stomach. Heartbeat hammering, Angie twisted beneath him, her fingers biting into his smooth brown back and then sweeping up to lace tightly into his thick, glossy hair instead.

‘You're so beautiful,' Leo murmured intently, shaping her pouting breasts with reverent hands, letting his tongue flick sensually over the shamelessly engorged tips. Clenching her teeth, Angie squirmed in tortured excitement. She gasped and struggled for every breath as waves of sensation thrummed through her. Then he let his teeth graze her swollen, straining flesh, and her hips rose and she moaned out loud in pure torment.

Leo stared down at her, golden eyes blazing, a fevered line of colour over his hard cheekbones. ‘When you're out of control,' he confessed raggedly, ‘it drives me wild.'

‘I want you…' she gasped. ‘I want you
so
much it hurts!'

Leo expelled his breath in a shaken hiss and, arching over her, almost crushed her beneath his full weight, his tongue plunging with explicit, driving need into the moist interior of her mouth over and over again.

‘Am I being too rough?' he asked thickly.

‘Oh, no…' Angie mumbled when she could catch her
breath, reaching up an unsteady hand to touch his beautiful mouth, rubbing her fingers along that anxiously tensed line, a desperate tide of love overwhelming her.

Knotting a possessive hand into her tumbled hair, he smiled wolfishly down at her and smoothly disposed of the fragile barrier of silk and lace still encircling her hips. ‘You're my woman…and I need to possess you so badly, I
ache
.'

Sending a sure hand skimming through the damp cluster of pale curls at the apex of her trembling thighs, he delicately traced the swollen, moist centre of her. Angie jerked, a moan of anguished need betraying her. Leo watched her with hungry appreciation, skilful fingers finding the most sensitive place of all and playing there until she was frantic with mindless, whimpering pleasure. ‘Leo…
please
,' she begged, her whole body straining up to him.

He came over her in one strong movement and entered her yielding softness with a shuddering groan of raw satisfaction. The sensation surpassed her every expectation. He had only begun and her heart was banging wildly against her ribcage, making her weak with sheer over-excitement. Every screaming nerve was centred on his slow, powerful invasion, her passion-glazed eyes welded to the fierce control etched in his taut features.

‘Leo…' she cried achingly.
‘Leo!'

And then he moved, thrusting deep into the heart of her. The power of speech was wrenched from her by the most shattering surge of physical pleasure. He felt so incredibly good, and she felt so deliciously possessed, she surrendered herself utterly. He drove into her with hard, rhythmic force. She cried out in strangled ecstasy and clung while the fierce ache of hunger surged higher and higher until, uncontrolled and out of her mind with excitement, she hit an electrifying starburst of sensation and fell over the edge into heaven.

She didn't float back to earth again either. Leo was holding her so close when she opened her dazed eyes, a breath of fresh air couldn't have got between their damp, hot bodies, and that felt like heaven too.

‘May I continue?' Leo enquired raggedly.

Her lashes fluttered and then she registered that he was
still
…

‘Oh…' she said guiltily, face burning as he lifted himself up to gaze down at her.

Glittering dark eyes vibrantly amused, Leo murmured forgivingly, ‘You lasted a whole three minutes…that has to be some kind of record.'

 

In the middle of the night, Angie put on the light and watched Leo sleep for a good half-hour. All she wanted to do was feast her eyes on him. He was sprawled on his stomach, black hair tousled, lashes down like ebony silk fans, jawline blue-shadowed, a lot of rather embarrassing scratches scoring his once flawless back and one long, lean thigh partially exposed by the tangled sheet. Even sleeping, he was so gorgeous, it was the most appalling struggle for Angie not to seek actual physical contact.

Feeling incredibly possessive, she covered him up as gently and carefully as she covered up Jake, and then she slid restively out of bed to tiptoe round, picking up their discarded clothes. She was so ecstatically happy, she couldn't sleep. Only one tiny cloud marred her horizon. It had taken until after midnight to exhaust him, but that wasn't the cloud. Indeed Angie couldn't think of anything more wonderful than Leo's insatiable need to subject her to endless pleasure.

He had been so passionate, so tender, everything she recalled from before…only this time around she was absolutely terrified of him guessing that she was still madly in love with him. ‘Too intense'. That was precisely what had driven him
away from her two and a half years ago. Leo might have talked a lot of impressive sounding twaddle about her having been too young, but Angie remained unconvinced.

In two days
she
would be Leo's wife. He didn't love her but, if Leo had it in him to love, he would love her by the time she was finished with him. She would sign that stupid pre-nuptial agreement thing he had mentioned and surely then he would appreciate that she wasn't a gold-digger? Aside from that, a little coolness, a little distance, indeed a little mystery ought to make her all the more desirable a wife in his eyes… Abstractedly she breathed in the scent of him from his discarded shirt, eyes starry as she plotted and planned.

 

Angie woke up in Leo's shirt, Jake bouncing on the bed, ice-cream stains round his chattering mouth. His dark eyes glowing, he told her about having breakfast with his father, visiting some park, playing on the swings and falling off the slide. A trouser leg was rolled up to display a chubby knee bearing a minuscule plaster, and a replay of the fall was suddenly enacted. Angie caught her over-excited toddler a split second before he nose-dived off the bed in his enthusiasm.

‘Go wash,' he announced importantly, sliding out of her arms again like an eel to scramble back down onto the carpet and race back to the door. ‘Daddy say go wash.'

Angie sprang out of bed to give chase, but was drawn up at the bedroom door when she saw Harriet gather him up. ‘I'll see to him,' the older woman said cheerfully. ‘He'll need a change of clothes before he goes out.'

Angie had a shower and put on a slim black wool dress, scrubbing at her cheeks in the mirror to give herself some colour. A whole box of cosmetics, that was what she needed, she decided sunnily.

She walked down the stairs, careful in her high heels, not yet used to wearing them again. The library door was ajar
and she could hear Leo speaking, so she hung back in case he had someone with him. ‘There
is
no risk…' he was murmuring with audible amusement. ‘But I still won't feel safe until I get that ring on her finger…no, I can't meet up with you beforehand…I don't want her to suspect what I'm up to.' His dark, deep drawl dropped even lower in pitch. ‘Marisa, you're tremendous…'

Transfixed to the spot, Angie strained feverishly close to the door to hear what he was saying next, and distinctly heard a roughened reference to ‘any sort of bed at all as long as it takes two', and then, in a very husky, sexy whisper, ‘You're embarrassing me'… Leo…
embarrassed
? Leo who didn't have a self-conscious bone in his body? Angie shuddered, perspiration dampening her upper lip as she jerked away from the door and shot across the hall into the drawing room opposite. He needn't worry about being embarrassed, she thought. He should worry about living to breathe another day!

S
ICK
with shock at what she had overheard, Angie crept over to a chair and dropped down into it to stare into space. Leo and Marisa Laurence. Only two days before he married Angie, Leo was indulging in the sort of sexually suggestive dialogue which only lovers shared. After last night, how
could
Leo betray her trust to such an extent?

Unable to sit still, her sensitive stomach still turning somersaults, Angie got up again. Her mind was the most terrifying blank. All she was conscious of was the shattering pain of her own disbelief. And then she questioned even that sensation, for where had she ever got the idea that Leo would be faithful? She had been outrageously naive. An awful lot of men—and rich men in particular—were serial adulterers!

She fumbled to recall exactly what she had overheard. Leo wasn't prepared to meet up with Marisa before the wedding in case his bride-to-be got suspicious. He had also said that he wouldn't feel safe until that ring was on her finger. Some chance of that
now
, Angie reflected in agony. But, of course, Leo didn't want to upset the apple cart at present. He had a lot to lose if the wedding didn't go ahead.

When had she allowed herself to forget that Leo was marrying her only to gain legal rights over his son? As she abruptly recalled that pre-nuptial agreement he had mentioned, Angie's blood ran cold. Leo evidently planned to continue his affair with Marisa. Concerned that his extra-marital activities might provoke Angie into demanding a divorce, Leo would naturally
seek to safeguard his wealth. Her pounding head ached. She blinked, breathed in deep. Her imagination was getting out of hand…

Leo
loved
Jake. Leo had to know that if there was a divorce and he tried to fight her for custody of their son it would be Jake who would suffer most. No, she wasn't dealing with some Machiavellian plan to steal her son away from her, she decided. Her sagging shoulders straightened. Her beautiful face clenched with sudden fury. She was dealing with a louse who had blithely assumed that he could be an unfaithful husband, a louse who would find out the hard way that if he put one toe out of line she would make him pay for it in spades!

Angie folded her arms, ramming back her pain with fierce determination. Oh, yes, she could confront Leo and refuse to marry him, and where would that leave her and her son? Leo's wealth would still put him in the driver's seat. He would have to support them. She would have to put up with him visiting for Jake's sake. She might even have to tolerate Marisa Laurence as her son's stepmother. No, marrying Leo would give her equality and a certain amount of power. Flouncing off in a huff would only reduce her to the level of being his dependant…wouldn't it?

 

‘What's wrong?' Leo enquired with a startled frown when she pulled away from the light arm he had dropped round her shoulders as they left the town house.

‘Nothing,' Angie said flatly.

‘Look, there's obviously something wrong,' Leo stated with conviction in Harrods when Angie kept on behaving as if he was stalking them.

‘Maybe I'm having a bad hair day,' she said frigidly.

With Harriet in restrictive tow, personal dialogue of any length was all but impossible. While everyone else ate their
lunch, Angie enjoyed several glasses of wine on an empty stomach, grimly conscious of Leo's brooding frustration.

They had spent several hours in Harrods. Angie had resisted any suggestion that she might want to look at wedding dresses. But Jake was now in possession of a wardrobe large enough to clothe three little boys because, when it came to his son, Leo had no sense of proportion. He had also fully borne out Angie's every expectation in the toy department, and had gone on to hit Hamleys with unquenched enthusiasm.

But Angie had lurched at frightening speed from rage to misery to the kind of sick, despairing jealousy and pain that pooled like poison inside her. She had reached the stage where one minute she was convinced she could still marry Leo and happily make his life hell by policing his every movement, but the next she was convinced that she couldn't go through with the wedding under any circumstances.

In fact her emotions were in full and very dangerous control of her by the time the helicopter circled over Deveraux Court and made a neat landing on the pad to the west of the house. It was late afternoon, and the icy temperatures had finally borne out their wintry promise. It was starting to snow.

‘Snow…' Jake gasped ecstatically as the first fat, fluffy flakes drifted slowly down. He raced across the gravel frontage of the house, twisting and turning like a miniature dervish as he tried to catch them.

Leo surveyed Angie. Angie watched their son as if his innocent wonder and joy were a tragedy of the biggest order. How
could
she deprive Jake of the father he already adored? Security, love, two parents. Those were the things which her son needed most…

The Great Hall was dominated by the Christmas tree. The Scots pine now glittered and glowed with gold and silver decorations and candle-shaped lights.

‘I'm the sort of woman who would hack your designer suits
into tiny shreds if you were ever unfaithful,' Angie delivered chattily to Leo as she slid out of her coat.

Having been momentarily engaged in watching their son trot off with both his grandfathers in keen pursuit, Leo's arrogant dark head whipped back round to her. Angie had the pleasure of seeing him utterly frozen to the spot, bold dark eyes incredulous.

Her smile was colder than the snowy peaks of the Himalayas as she climbed the stairs. ‘I'm the sort of woman who would tell the whole story, with the inclusion of every minute and dirty detail, to the Press.'

‘Angie—?'

‘I'm the sort of woman who would rip you off for every penny you've got if you betrayed me,' Angie slung at him in warning from the minstrel's gallery. ‘And I would be the sort of ex-wife who would feature only in your worst nightmares. I would be unreasonable, manipulative, demanding and just downright nasty!'

‘What the hell is the matter with you?' Leo demanded not quite steadily as he strode up the stairs after her, taking them two at a time. ‘Apart from rather too much wine…'

Angie stiffened, eyes flashing. ‘I just thought you should know what you're getting into
before
you marry me. If I ever had cause to doubt your loyalty, I would hold spite and pursue vengeance until the day I died!'

‘You're heading in the wrong direction.'

‘No, I'm not,' Angie muttered tightly. ‘While you are considering your options, I will be sleeping in the Chinese bedroom.'

‘So I'll visit,' Leo delivered cheerfully.

In disbelief, Angie focused on the amusement flashing across his lean, strong face, shaken even in the mood she was in by the raw charisma he possessed. ‘No way!'

Drew, looking rakish with a patch over one eye, strolled
down the corridor towards them with his arm ostentatiously draped round a small, curvaceous brunette with smiling green eyes. ‘This is Tally,' he announced.

‘Hi…I'm Angie,' Angie managed to say, and then she walked on, only hesitating long enough to throw over her shoulder, ‘And by the way, Leo, I will not be signing any pre-nuptial agreement!'

She closed the bedroom door behind her. A split second later, Leo thrust it open. No longer did he look amused. ‘Drew and Tally heard that last crack,' he drawled in stark reproof.

Embarrassed by the rebuke, Angie shrugged jerkily, tears thickening her throat. ‘Why should that worry you? Mr Sensitive you're not,' she condemned. ‘As for that agreement, if you expect me to take
you
on trust, I expect you to take
me
on trust too.'

Lounging back against the door with innate grace, Leo studied her with measuring dark eyes. Infuriatingly he said nothing.

‘After all, you've already made it clear that this is a marriage of convenience for our son's sake,' Angie continued doggedly. ‘And maybe I'm not too sure of the kind of treatment I can expect to receive after the wedding.'

‘When have I ever given you cause to question my sincerity?' Leo demanded with level bite.

Angie spun away and breathed in deep, hands knotting together. ‘Someone told me that you were heavily involved with Marisa Laurence until very recently.'

‘So
that
is what this is all about…'

Angie turned back to him, very pale and taut.

Exasperation had set Leo's hard facial bones. ‘Marisa and I have been close friends for years. In fact, it's Marisa you have to thank for the soft toys and the clothes that were acquired for Jake the day you left the Dicksons'.'

‘Close friends?' Angie repeated with tense, frowning uncertainty.

‘With never a spark of anything sexual because there was never a spark even to begin with for either of us,' Leo supplied very drily. ‘Marisa
is
heavily involved, however—not with me but with an environmental scientist who's been working abroad for the past year. Marisa stayed in the UK because she has a business to run.'

Angie stared at him with wide eyes, and then she reddened fiercely. There was something so very deflating and convincing about Leo's cool, incisive gaze and sardonic intonation.

‘The “someone” who talked was Drew, right?' Leo prompted in derisive continuance. ‘He doesn't miss a trick when it comes to causing trouble. But it's you I'm disappointed in, Angie. You talk about trust, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to just come right out and ask me about Marisa—'

‘You're saying it's a platonic relationship…yet you wouldn't accept that same explanation from me—'

‘Drew wanted you. The situation was different.' Leo wasn't yielding an inch. He opened the door again, his strong features harshly set.

Angie nibbled anxiously at her lower lip. ‘Leo…I heard you on the phone to Marisa this morning and it didn't sound like a purely friendly conversation—but possibly I misunderstood,' she muttered in an increasing rush. ‘Only you were talking about not wanting me to suspect what you were up to, not being willing to meet her before the wedding…'

‘You'll understand after the wedding. Until then I'm afraid you'll have to take me on trust,' Leo imparted with distinct irony as he closed the door.

Angie was so worked up she burst into floods of tears. Evidently she had got herself into a state over nothing. But why the reference to a bed? A joke, a flirtatious innuendo between old friends? Leo had been so cool, calm and superior. But she
wondered how he might have reacted had he eavesdropped on a similar one-sided dialogue. But she could answer that question for herself—Leo would have immediately confronted her. Openly and honestly.

Her luggage arrived and a maid appeared to do the unpacking. Angie went off in search of Leo, only to discover that he had taken Jake down to the stables with him. Her father reminded her that it was the staff party that evening. That meant that the family would be dining out and returning late.

A knock sounded on the bedroom door as Angie was trying to decide what to wear.

It was Drew. Without invitation, he made himself carelessly at home on the side of the bed.

‘What do you want?' Angie enquired thinly.

He grimaced. ‘I guess I owe you an apology for what I did two years ago.'

‘Fine…is there anything else?'

Drew gave her a reproachful look. ‘I was rather nasty the other night, but I wasn't expecting to find you here and, frankly, it was one of the worst nights of my life!'

‘Yes,' Angie allowed grudgingly, thinking of the many shocks Drew had been dealt at the dinner table. ‘I suppose it was. But where
did
you get the strange idea that Leo was almost on the brink of marriage with Marisa?'

Drew went red and evaded her eyes. ‘So I exaggerated a bit—'

‘A
bit
?' Angie derided grimly.

‘OK…so I knew they were just friends. It just riled me, seeing you with Leo again,' he admitted rather rawly. ‘I hate the way he always seems to get what he wants. But Tally thinks that I did a rotten thing keeping the two of you apart.'

‘You didn't keep us apart. Leo had already scrubbed me out of his life.'

Drew groaned. ‘Well, who can say how it would've turned
out? But Leo
did
land back here a few weeks later, expecting you to be sitting waiting like faithful Penelope even though he'd ditched you…and you weren't; you were painting the town red with
me
!'

Angie was frowning. ‘What are you talking about?'

‘I could've been noble and stepped back and made it clear that there was nothing heavy between us, but I'm not noble and I
didn't
. Actually, I revelled in the knowledge that Leo wanted you back and thought he had missed the boat.'

‘That time he visited…he wanted me back?' Angie whispered unevenly. ‘Did he tell you that?'

Drew rolled his eyes. ‘Angie…can you really see Leo confiding in me?'

‘No…but you said—'

‘It was obvious that you were the only reason he came here. He flew straight back to Athens first thing the next morning.' Drew sighed as he read the devastated look in her eyes. ‘He was his own worst enemy, Angie. He could've put his cards on the table then and given you a chance…'

Angie spun her head defensively away, her throat thickening as she recalled Leo approaching her when she had come home at the end of that evening. ‘He did try to talk to me…but I wasn't really paying the right sort of attention.'

‘At the time I thought it was hilarious,' Drew confided wryly. ‘Everybody
but
Leo knew that you had always been crazy about him.'

The door opened without a warning knock. Leo froze on the threshold. Drew uttered a very rude word in his dismay. Angie's tear-filled eyes encountered a look as aggressive as an attack in Leo's glittering dark gaze.