More Than Neighbors (6 page)

Heeding her neighbor’s advice, she took extra time to wash her hair, where much of the tomato sauce had ended up. After blowing it dry, she put on some basic clothes.

CHAPTER 7

When she returned to the kitchen, she could barely believe her eyes and briefly even wondered if she’d got the wrong apartment. Everything had been tidied up, the floor was freshly mopped, and a delicious smell emanated from a pair of saucepans bubbling cheerfully on the stove. Leopold was stirring the food with a wooden spoon; he’d rolled up his sleeves and tied a clean apron around his waist. Catalina decided he was one of the most attractive men she’d seen in her life. “It’s a miracle!” she exclaimed, amazed. He looked at her without saying a word. Despite how tired he’d felt a few hours earlier, he’d decided that going to his neighbor’s place had proven to be a good choice. It was strange, but cleaning up the mess that Catalina had made and making supper had relaxed him—he loved cooking, and it was much more enjoyable doing it for someone other than himself. As usual, his neighbor was wearing the slightly hippyish clothes that suited her so much, her honeyed hair shining and her face lit up with joy once again. Just looking at her made Leopold feel oddly comforted. “It smells fantastic. What’ve you made?” She came close enough to the stove for him to smell her own delicious aroma.

Leo gripped the wooden spoon, and trying to keep an even tone, he replied, “I just adapted the recipe in the book, to use up the vegetables you’d chopped. I’ve renamed the dish ‘Post-Tsunami Pasta’; what do you think?”

Cat gave a contagious laugh, and he was forced to smile. “You’re a real gem, Leo. Turns out that Alison’s a lucky woman after all.”

“Let’s not start,” he warned sternly.

“Of course not, dear neighbor. Do you really think that after all the work you’ve done I’d pick a fight with you? I’m eternally grateful for this evening, Leo, and if you should ever need my help, you can count on it.” Cat stood on tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek. She opened the fridge, took out the bottle that Leopold had brought, uncorked it, and poured two glasses, handing one to him. “To the magnificent cook!” she toasted with an affectionate smile on her lips.

“And to his scatterbrained neighbor!” said Leopold, clinking his glass against hers, still feeling a slight tingle on his cheek.

“I’ll set the table. That’s one thing I
can
do.” Catalina rushed out of the kitchen.

As he carried the bowl of pasta out to the living room, Leo understood what she’d meant. The room was dimly lit, the golden glow of the fire and a few strategically placed candles the only light. Rather than laying everything out on the giant dining-room table, Cat had placed a smaller table near the hearth, though not so close that the heat would be unpleasant. She’d used one of her uncle’s best tablecloths, along with his finest dishes and glassware. The silver cutlery sparkled, and a pair of tiny glass vases with a single flower in each decorated the table. It was as if they were about to dine in an enchanted palace.

“A beautiful
mise-en-scène
,” he said in his deep voice.

“Don’t you think?” Cat surveyed her work with satisfaction.

“One of the loveliest I’ve ever seen. You could do it professionally.”

“At first, I worried it might be a bit over the top. I didn’t want you to think I was planning a romantic evening, intending to seduce you over dessert.” She winked wickedly at him. “But then I decided that after all you’ve done this evening, you deserve the very best.”

“I’m much obliged,
mademoiselle
.” Still holding the bowl of pasta, Leopold gave her an elegant bow.

“I’ll bring some water and bread,” Cat said, and when she returned, she refilled her neighbor’s glass with wine. “Sit down. I’ll take over from here.”

Catalina sat opposite him, dishing him a sizeable plate of pasta before serving herself, then expectantly put a forkful in her mouth. “Mmm, delicious.” Cat savored the combination of flavors with her eyes closed, making Leopold feel absurdly proud.

In spite of Leopold’s fears, supper was a success. They chatted about various subjects, and, though in many cases their opinions were far from similar, their conversation was animated. He enjoyed the novel experience of talking to a woman without worrying about impressing her, and he thought that Catalina, when she wasn’t trying to annoy him, was vivacious and charming. The idea of being friends with her appealed to him; he’d never had a female friend.

“I have some great news,” she suddenly announced.

“Oh?” He had to blink to avoid being dazzled by the golden radiance in her eyes.

“An anonymous patron bought Peter’s painting. Do you know how much they paid for it?” she asked with her mouth full, waving her fork and knife around.

“No idea.” Leopold thought of the canvas that hung on one of his bedroom walls.

“Enough to renovate the building and still have a bit left over for other projects.” His neighbor shone with enthusiasm.

“Gosh, that’s fantastic.”

“It’s incredible. It often seems as if we live in a terrible, self-seeking world in which we’re all too busy to think about anyone but ourselves, but then when things get really bad, a generous soul always seems to step forward to lend a hand.”

“You’re a hopeless romantic.” Leopold shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“And you’re a cynic,” Cat retorted, her indignation evident.

“I’ve been living in the real world for a long time, and I know things aren’t as rosy as you make out.” He brought his glass to his lips, impassive.

“Well, you’re wrong, and that painting’s the proof.” Cat gave him a triumphant look.

When they had finished eating, Catalina didn’t let him clear so much as a fork. She took everything to the kitchen and told him she’d wash up later. Then she removed the tablecloth and brought out a chessboard, setting it with her Uncle Paul’s antique ivory pieces. “I don’t think my head’s very clear after such a feast and the glass of wine.”

“Excuses,” he replied. “I’ve just got back from New York and I’ve eaten and drunk more than you.”
Though not much more
, he thought to himself, remembering how his neighbor had gone back for seconds and thirds. The fact was that cooking for a woman like her, someone who actually enjoyed the food—unlike Alison, who would just pick at it with her fork—was a real pleasure.

“White or black?” she asked.

“You choose.”

Cat chose white and started the game. The young woman was amused by the look of concentration on Leopold’s face. She had a sudden desire to stretch out her hand and smooth out his furrowed brow. It reminded her of Uncle Paul’s face when he first taught her to play—clearly both men took their chess very seriously.

She sighed. She’d rather be playing a different kind of game with her attractive neighbor, but she didn’t enjoy coming between a couple. She’d also already decided that Leo should be an altruistic project, and if she got romantically involved with him, her selfless mission would lose its purpose. She sighed again and tried to focus on the game.

Leopold heard her sigh and thought he had her on the ropes. He watched her study the board, her elbows resting on the table and her pointed chin cupped in her hands. Once again, he admired her beauty; perhaps he should behave like a gentleman and let her win without making it obvious. Just then, Catalina stretched out her hand, with its long, slender fingers, devoid of rings, and half-heartedly picked up a piece and moved it a few squares. “Check,” she said.

He couldn’t believe it. Leopold looked at the board and saw that he was indeed on the verge of losing the game. He quickly forgot his gentlemanly impulses and began playing as if his life depended on it; he would need to use all his skill to have a chance at winning. Almost an hour had passed before he heard himself say, in a voice that sounded almost tremulous, “Checkmate!”

“Well done, Leo.”

He looked at her suspiciously, and all of a sudden a terrible thought sprang to mind. “You didn’t let me win, did you?”

Wide-eyed, with an expression so innocent that Leopold immediately distrusted her, she said, “Leopold Sinclair! Don’t talk rubbish!”

Leo tried to think back to the last few moves, but Cat took the opportunity to quickly put away the board and pieces. “Leo, you must be tired after your trip. You should get some sleep.”

He couldn’t believe it! For the second time since he’d met her, his neighbor was trying to get rid of him. If she kept this up, his self-esteem would take a nosedive, especially now that he was convinced that the sassy witch had let him win to get the game over and done with.

“All right, I’ll go. But for the record, this doesn’t end here. We’ll play again.”

“Whenever you like,” she replied, practically dragging him to the door.

“Why are you in such a hurry to get rid of me?” he asked, bemused.

“Because I’m starting to have naughty thoughts.” Cat gave him a teasing smile and, without giving him time to ask what she meant, she closed the door in his face.

Leopold stood there, his eyes fixed on the wooden door, as he tried to figure out what she’d meant. Suddenly, a light bulb went off in his head and he caught her meaning. His breathing quickened, but he chalked it up to exasperation and vowed that he’d pay his fiendish neighbor back: not only would he soundly beat her at chess, leaving no doubt as to his superiority, but he’d also make her ask for forgiveness for having twice thrown out Leopold John Saint Clair Sinclair of Hallcourt Abbey. With these intentions in mind, he returned home, got ready for bed, and immediately fell asleep.

Meanwhile, his neighbor cleared up the remains of their dinner next door. As she loaded the dishwasher, Cat wondered what had come over her. She understood Leopold’s confusion, since she had surprised herself with her behavior.

At one point, she’d lifted her eyes from the chessboard and seen him sitting there, looking very serious, repeatedly running his fingers through his gray hair until each short tuft pointed in a different direction. His silvery eyes shone with excitement when he saw his next move, and she found him so attractive that she had to hold onto the arms of her chair to stop herself from leaning over the table and planting a kiss on those firm lips, neither too full nor too thin, that seemed to be calling to her.

Perhaps she should simply stop seeing her snooty neighbor, who really became quite adorable when he lost some of his snootiness. She wasn’t ready to get involved with a man, adorable or otherwise, so maybe she’d better not play with fire. It wasn’t that she was averse to playing games—she would have loved to flirt with him, steal a kiss here and a hug there—but Leopold was clearly not a man who liked being manipulated, and she knew that trying would lead to trouble.

At any rate, from the little he’d told her, it appeared he was close to marrying the stunning Alison. Cat slammed the dishwasher door shut and promised herself that nothing would happen between them that wasn’t completely innocent. Proud of her resolution, she turned on the dishwasher and went to bed.

The following weeks passed with a pleasant regularity: Cat went about her normal routine, and often crossed paths with her neighbor. Every now and then, Leopold would show up unannounced with a box of chocolates or a bottle of champagne and challenge her to a game of chess. If she was in the mood, they’d play for hours, until one of them lost.

Unsurprisingly, his neighbor proved to be an experienced player, and Leo was forced to draw on all his skill to beat her, though she still won half the time. On one of the occasions when she’d beaten him, Cat saw his devastated expression as he stared at the board, and she couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

“It’s not becoming to celebrate a win by laughing at the loser,” he said sternly, his back held rigid.

“You should see your face. Then you’d understand why I’m laughing.” Her brown eyes flashed with mischief.

Leo gave her an aggrieved look but chose to change the subject. “Last Wednesday, I rang your bell to see if you wanted a game. You weren’t in.”

“I wasn’t?” Cat replied coolly.

“It must’ve been around eight . . .”

She just smiled at him.

“Then I came by again at nine. You were still out.”

“Heavens!”

Leopold couldn’t stand the way Catalina teased him, but much to his regret he was unable to let the matter rest. “And I came back at ten—”

“Let me guess!” she cut in pertly, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “I wasn’t in!”

“Not even at eleven.”

“Come on, Leo, leave it be. I won’t let you behave like a frustrated old bachelor because your chess partner was out when you felt like a game.”

Frustrated old bachelor! The little minx sure knew how to hit a nerve. “I’m no singleton, much less a frustrated one!” he countered pathetically.

“Of course you’re not, Leo. I didn’t mean to offend you, it was just an innocent comment.” She attempted to appease him, as if he were a small child.

Angry, he pushed his chair back and stood. “You’re beginning to seriously annoy me,” he warned.

“Ooh, I’m scared!” Cat began to clear away the chess set.

“You should be.” He deftly grabbed one of her arms and swiveled her toward him.

“All right, I’m terrified.” She opened her eyes wide in feigned dread.

“You simply don’t know when to shut up, do you, Catalina?”

“Actually,” she began, but Leopold didn’t let her finish. His eyes flashing silver, he put his arm around her waist, lifted her chin with urgent fingers, and kissed her passionately. At first, she didn’t resist because she was so surprised, but then she suddenly felt as if red-hot lava was pumping through her veins and her lips parted. The kiss deepened. After a while, Leopold, suffering an intense inner struggle, broke away panting. She was glad he was still holding her because she was certain that, had he not been, her legs would have given way and she would have fainted to the floor like a Victorian damsel.

“I’m sorry, Catalina, I don’t know what came over me.” Leopold was doing his best to control his breathing.

Cat only half-listened to what he was saying, still caught in a daze. “That was rather ill-mannered,” she said, also trying to bring her heart rate down.