Hope burst in Leo’s chest like a star going supernova. “What you told Miles. That you intend to continue helping me—that was the truth?”
“Yes, I’ll help you find the wedding reading. But that’s all.”
The exploding star of Leo’s hope went dim. “You mean…”
Serena’s shuttered gaze met his, straight and unflinching. “I’ll stick to our original deal. The wedding reading help in return for a seat at the wedding and the chance to rub elbows with the Harringtons and the other potential library patrons. But it’s a business transaction, nothing more.”
“I was already planning to follow through with my pledge to the library,” Leo told her, wanting to be clear that he wasn’t a complete bounder.
She pressed her lips together and nodded grudgingly. “I appreciate that, but it’s not necessary. Get me an intro to the right people, and we can call it even. I didn’t sleep with you for the library donation.”
“I never thought you did.” Leo leaned in, his hands in tight fists on the table. “Not for a moment.”
Serena’s eyes softened slightly. “Thank you. As you said, I also very much enjoyed all that we shared, and I’d like to end it on a high note.”
Even though he knew the truth of it already in the aching heaviness of his bones, Leo forced himself to ask, “So it’s over then?”
“Yes” Serena said bluntly, without anger or accusation. “All of that is over.”
The death of hope turned Leo’s world black.
***
“You heard Miles—your invitation to the wedding is secure. You needn’t bother going through the motions with the wedding reading now that you know how impossible it is.”
Between one breath and the next, Leo had gone from a warm, living, breathing man to an icy, rigid marble statue. Serena’s heart clenched. She’d done that to him, with her careless reaction to his revelation last night. Sure, maybe finding out he’d lied to her about his ulterior motives after all was a betrayal, and she’d been deeply disappointed that he had no intention of continuing their relationship after the wedding—but that didn’t mean she was completely oblivious to how hard it was for Leo to tell her the truth. As she’d tossed and turned throughout the long, cold night, she’d dwelled less and less on her own bruised heart as the memory of Leo’s self-disgust and long-held pain returned to her.
“It’s not impossible,” she told him firmly. She might not know him as well as she’d once imagined, but she knew enough to be sure he’d read any hint of coddling or sympathy as pity—and he’d despise her for it. “I have a plan.”
She unzipped her backpack, but Leo stopped her from showing him what was inside by shaking his head. “Serena, stop. I’m telling you, you don’t have to do this. I know you don’t want to be here, so just go back to Sanctuary Island. I’ll work something out on my own.”
“No.” Serena gripped the open edges of her backpack hard enough to imprint the teeth of the metal zipper into her palms. “I’m helping you. End of story.”
“Why are you doing this?” he demanded, eyes suddenly flashing hot and alive with anger. “Now that you know what I am, have you come back to gloat over me? To point and laugh at the idiot?”
The sneer on his handsome face hit Serena like a slap. She could only imagine how the kids at school, maybe even the frustrated teachers, reacted to Leo’s inability before he learned to hide it. She had a strong feeling he was dyslexic or suffered from a similar reading disability, which would explain how a man as intelligent as Leo couldn’t keep pace with the rest of his class. And as much as she wanted to be indignant that he could ever think she’d behave like all the others in his life, how could she be? When she knew the way she’d reacted the night before had probably only reinforced years of shame and self-loathing.
That thought helped her stick stubbornly to her point. “Not at all. I’m here because I told you I’d help, and I keep my word. No matter what.”
Leo crossed his arms over the width of his chest, straining the fine cotton of his button down and making his biceps bulge against the sleeves. “And I suppose what I want doesn’t matter.”
Serena clung to patience. “May I remind you that you seduced a woman you had no interest in, just to get help with this task? To me, that indicates a strong desire to find the perfect wedding reading for your friend’s wedding.”
A muscle ticked in Leo’s hard jaw. “I never said I had no interest in you. In fact, as I tried to tell you last night, before you ran out of here as if your hair were on fire, you’re completely wrong. I did want you. I still do.”
The harsh, unyielding tone battered at the stone walls Serena had erected around her heart. Pulse leaping, she hastily shored up her defenses. “Well, as I’ve said, that part of the deal is off the table now. And listen, Leo—no matter what your real motivations were, no matter how big a lie you told or how…taken off guard I was by everything you said, I should have reacted better. You opened up to me with something that I can see causes you a lot of pain in your life, and all I thought about was how it made
me
feel. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have run out on you like that. No one deserves to be made to feel like a freak for something they have no control over.”
“Bloody hell,” Leo muttered. “Don’t apologize to me. I can take a lot, but I can’t take that.”
Serena threw up her hands. “You shouldn’t have to take anything! That’s what I’m saying. You can’t help being dyslexic.”
Leaning across the table and barely moving his lips, Leo snapped, “What makes you think I’m dyslexic?”
This was obviously going to require some diplomacy. Picking her way delicately, Serena said, “Because that’s the most common reading disorder. And despite what you may have been told, reading disorders have nothing to do with lack of intelligence. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Old, remembered pain hardened Leo’s eyes. “Of course. I should be proud of the fact that I’m thirty years old and it would take me an hour to struggle through a children’s book.”
“The people who should be ashamed are your teachers and your parents, who apparently never did more to identify the issue than blame you for it.” Anger crisped the edges of her voice, and she tried to soften her tone, to keep her distance, but it just wasn’t possible. “There are so many ways to tackle a reading disorder! Your parents should’ve gotten you into an intensive remedial education program the minute they noticed the symptoms.”
Leo snorted, dropping his gaze. “My parents had far more important things to worry about than their second son’s lackluster school performance. The start of hunting season, the next vote in the House of Lords, what hat to purchase for Derby Day. That sort of thing.”
“I’m sorry.” Serena spoke from the bottom of her heart. “You deserved better.”
“So did you,” Leo said, spearing her through with an intense stare. “I wish I’d told you the truth from the beginning. But I hope you can see why I never imagined you’d react like this.”
“Like what?”
A small, humorless smile flickered across Leo’s face. “Like someone who cares more about helping me than judging me. Even after the way I hurt you.”
Hurriedly passing over that, Serena steered the conversation back to the point. “No one should be judging you,” she told him firmly. “The fact that you have a reading disorder is not your fault. And it certainly doesn’t mean you’re stupid. Lots of famous and successful people have had reading disorders. American presidents, even!”
Dark amusement twisted his mouth briefly. “You Americans and your can-do spirit. I admit, I envy you that. Nothing defeats you.”
Serena, who still felt pretty well defeated by the collapse of yet another relationship under the weight of lies, hidden motives, and unrealistic expectations, ignored the mocking lilt to his voice and forged ahead. “Being dyslexic doesn’t have to defeat you either. Not unless you let it. There’s always a way around a problem.”
Before the stubborn ass could argue, Serena dumped the contents of her backpack onto the card table. Leo stared down at the scattering of bulky plastic audio tape and compact disc cases against the tabletop, his expression unreadable.
“I know you probably have whatever the latest, highest tech gadget is for listening to music, but the Sanctuary Island Public Library doesn’t have the funds to transfer the old audiobook collection to digital files,” Serena explained, unaccountably nervous. “I figured the inn might have an old-fashioned stereo you could use. If not, let me know, I’m sure I could dig up an old Walkman or something.”
Leo fingered the edge of one of the CD cases, drawing her attention to the long-fingered elegance of his beautiful hands. She’d felt those hands sweetly caressing every inch of her body. Serena shivered, her skin feeling suddenly sensitive and too tight for her body.
“A way around the problem,” Leo repeated quietly before looking up at her, banked fires burning like molten silver in his eyes. “I assume these are all poetry collections from the library?”
“Most of them.” Serena hesitated a bare instant, then sifted through the pile until she found the CD in the plain, clear plastic case. “This one, though… I pulled together a compilation of recordings of my favorite pieces. Some of them we already went through together, and some are new.”
A strange look flashed through his gaze, sad and resigned at the same time. But his voice was smooth and calm when he said, “I take it this is the help you spoke of earlier.”
He wasn’t accusing her of anything, but Serena stiffened defensively. “I never promised I’d sit beside you while you worked your way through the potential readings. If you can’t find something that works in this collection of tapes and CDs…”
“I’m not complaining.” Leo held up a placating hand. “I haven’t the right. This is more than I deserve after the way I hurt you. I’m grateful, truly.”
Serena struggled for a taut, silent moment. He had hurt her, but she could see in his shielded gaze, his downturned mouth, that he’d been hurt, too. “It’s not more than you deserve,” she finally said. “No one should be cut off from the world of literature and poetry, from books. If audiobooks are the best way for you to enter that world right now, I’m glad to be the person who unlocks the door for you.”
“But you don’t want to walk through it with me.”
Fear drifted over her like a chilly draft over the back of her neck. He was far, far too tempting for a woman who’d never been very good at learning how to live in reality instead of dreams. Serena stood up and knotted her scarf tightly around her neck. “You don’t need me.”
Leo clenched his fists on the green tabletop, as if he were stopping himself from reaching out. “You’re wrong about that, love.”
The endearment was a shot through the heart. Bleeding slowly, Serena backed away from the table and the dangerously magnetic pull of the man. “I’ll see you at the wedding. Whatever you choose will be great, I’m sure.”
She walked to the door, heart pounding. But just as she was about to make her escape, some devil prompted her to take one, last look over her shoulder.
Leo had risen from the table to stand by the window. His tall, athletic form was a dark silhouette, outlined against the amber rays of the afternoon sun, his face cast in shadow. But his eyes glowed in the darkness.
Those stark silver eyes pierced her soul, hinting at a powerful storm of emotion Leo controlled with every ounce of his considerable strength.
“Please don’t go,” he said, his voice as harsh and deep as a distant growl of thunder over the open ocean.
If I don’t go now, I’ll never find the strength again
.
Instead of that, Serena said, “Enjoy the books and the poems. I hope they help you believe in the possibilities of life. Because you can be anything you want, Leo. You can do anything you put your mind to. Don’t let this reading disorder, or your school experience, or your family’s failings define you. I know there’s more to you than a rich, idle aristocrat who doesn’t believe in love.”
With that, Serena forced herself to turn around and walk out of the Fireside Inn and leave Leo Strathairn behind yet again.
It hurt just as much the second time.
Serena glanced down at the wedding invitation, checking the time and place yet again. Pure nerves prompted it, since the line of parked cars edging the side of Shoreline Drive told her she’d arrived at the old yacht club where the wedding would take place in less than an hour.
She’d half planned to skip the ceremony and only attend the reception—she barely knew Greta Hackley, whose family owned and operated the hardware store on Main Street, and it was the reception where Serena was mostly likely to make the connections she need to keep the library running.
And the less time she spent as Leo Strathairn’s “date,” the better for her bruised heart.
But then this pretty, cream-colored invitation with the engraved outline of a starfish in the corner had arrived in her mailbox yesterday. Not only did the gold and ocean blue engraved lettering invite her to both the ceremony and the reception following, there was a handwritten note from the groom on the back.
Miles’s dark, emphatic script looped across the card boldly, as straightforward as the man himself. When she read that he looked forward to seeing the woman who’d had such an impact on one of his best friends at his wedding ceremony…well, Serena didn’t see how she could escape it.
And if a tiny, self-destructive part of her was anxious to find out which reading Leo had picked, Serena told herself curiosity wasn’t a crime.
Wobbling a little on her wedge heels, Serena climbed out of her hatchback and remembered to snag her drawstring purse and navy cashmere shrug from the passenger seat. It was hard to know what to wear to a beach wedding after the weather had turned, but Serena was pretty sure the breeze off the ocean would be too cool for the sunny, orangey-red spaghetti-strapped dress she’d chosen, if the reception was indeed outdoors. At least the ceremony was inside, out of the cold.
Days and days since the last time she’d heard from or seen Leo Strathairn, “sunny” wasn’t exactly how Serena would describe her feelings. But since local tradition held that it was bad luck to wear black to a wedding, she couldn’t dress to match her mood.