The Virgin's Secret (15 page)

He walked in and saw her shoulders tense. Her hair was down and she didn't turn around. In light of his recent thoughts he felt anger start to bubble down low. He wasn't used to being so sceptical of his decisions. He remembered that night in the kitchen, telling her all about his mother.

It made his voice harsh now as he came round and saw her profile, saw that she was making some kind of meatballs. That domesticity rankled. ‘We're going out this evening.'

Angel didn't turn to look at him; she just said in a quiet voice, ‘If you don't mind I'd like to stay in tonight. I'm tired. But you go out.'

Something about her was so intensely vulnerable that it made the hardness swell in Leo's chest. If she thought she was going to start playing games with him now… ‘Angel, we have an agreement. Just because your sister got the wedding she wanted it does not mean your job as my mistress is finished.'

Angel flinched minutely, as if stung. She sent Leo a quick glance without really looking at him. ‘Look, it's just for this evening. I really am tired.'

Something about the tenseness of her stance struck him then, and the tightness in her voice.
Something was wrong.
Instinctively Leo put out a hand and wrapped it around Angel's arm. She tensed, so rigid that he frowned. ‘Angel…what—?'

He had to exert pressure to get her to turn around and face him. He put two hands on her arms now, exasperation lacing his voice. ‘Angel, what's got into you?'

She was looking down, hair covering her face. Leo put a finger under her chin and tipped her face up. Something caught his eye, and for a second he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Then something primal exploded out of him. ‘What the
hell
is that?'

A
NGEL
felt Leo put a hand to her face, tipping it to him slightly, and she closed her eyes. She hadn't wanted him to see her like this; she'd wanted him to just say, ‘Okay, fine, I'll go without you.' But he hadn't. She knew what he was looking at: her swollen jaw covered with a livid bruise.

Angel tried to pull free, but Leo wasn't budging. He pushed her hair back behind her ear to have a better look. His voice was grim. ‘Have you put ice on this?'

Angel looked into his eyes for the first time. ‘It'll hurt.'

Leo shook his head. ‘Only for the first few seconds.' And then very gently he probed and felt her jaw. Angel winced and sucked in a breath. Leo swore softly. ‘It's not broken, but maybe we should get it checked out at the hospital.'

Angel shook her head. ‘No, no hospital. It's just sore.'

Leo looked at her until she couldn't bear it and tore her eyes away. Emotion was welling up from deep down and she was afraid she couldn't contain it. He led her over to a stool and made her sit down, lifting her onto it. Then he went to the fridge and got some ice, wrapping it in a towel. He brought it back and ever so gently laid it against her jaw, soothing Angel when she moved to pull away instinctively. The pain
made spots dance before her eyes for a second, and then the coolness was beautifully numbing.

To her abject horror she could feel hot tears welling, and before she could stop them they were overflowing and falling down her cheeks. She gave a dry sob. ‘I'm sorry, I just—'

Shock was starting to set in too; she'd been holding it back since it had happened. But now she could feel her teeth start to chatter, her limbs shaking uncontrollably. Leo said something rapid in Greek over her head. Angel dimly guessed it had to be to Calista. Calista who had wanted to ring Leo earlier, but Angel hadn't let her.

In moments Calista was back, and tutting, and handing a glass of what looked like brandy to Leo. Leo dismissed the other woman and made Angel take a sip of the amber liquid. It had an immediate effect. Leo gently wiped at the tears caught on her cheeks.

After a few minutes of letting the drink have its effect, Leo took the ice from Angel and gently led her off the stool and out of the kitchen. He said something else to Calista, who was hovering nearby—something about ringing his PA to tell her he was unavailable for the evening.

He was leading Angel into the informal living room when she started to protest. ‘No, you should go out. You have that premiere…'

Leo sat Angel down and brought the ice back up to her face. He looked at her steadily. ‘Do you really think I'm going to sit through two hours of American inanity while you're here like this?'

Leo took the ice down, placing it on a nearby tray, and inspected her jaw again. And then his eyes speared hers:
no escape
.

‘So, are you going to tell me who punched you in the jaw?'

Angel bit her lip. She couldn't lie. Calista knew anyway, and she'd tell Leo in a second. As if reading her mind, Leo said easily, ‘Don't even think of trying to defend whoever did this, Angel.'

Angel could feel the colour draining from her face, and Leo cursed softly again, making her sip more brandy.

Eventually, after a long silence, he just raised a brow. He wasn't budging until she told him. ‘I…my father came to visit me today.'

She looked down, shamed by her own father. And shamed by how hurt she was after all these years that his lack of love still had the power to hurt. Leo gently tipped her face up to him again.

‘Your father did this?'

Angel nodded. ‘He had been drinking. He came to tell me how I'd disrespected our family name. Normally I can avoid him, but…he just caught me unawares. I wasn't fast enough. I never expected him to come here.'

Leo's voice was blistering. ‘He's done this
before
?'

Angel nodded, more shame coursing through her. She felt so weak. ‘Never this bad, though. When I was smaller he'd lash out at me—he's always resented me for reminding him of the humiliation of my mother deserting him…us. I learnt to avoid him. Just today…' Angel wasn't about to reveal that she'd been preoccupied with defending Leo when her father had lashed out with unexpected accuracy.

A lot of pieces started to fall into place in Leo's head. What he'd seen at the wedding; the fact that Angel had been sent to a remote boarding school. ‘That's why you haven't been home once since you came here.'

Angel nodded slowly.

Through a granite-like weight in his chest, Leo asked, ‘He
really didn't send you here to the villa, did he? The night of the party or the night I found you in the study?'

Angel shook her head. Her heart had leapt into her mouth and was beating so hard she felt a little faint.

‘Why were you here that night, then, Angel?'

‘The night of the party was exactly as I told you. I had no idea where we were going and then it was too late. I tried to stay in the kitchen, but my boss sent me upstairs…' She blushed. ‘I truly didn't know who you were at the pool, or on the terrace. I'd avoided reading anything about your family coming home. I was too ashamed.'

She stopped. She couldn't believe that Leo was listening to her. She willed him to believe what she said. ‘And that next night…I wasn't stealing the will. I was trying to return it.'

Leo frowned. ‘Return it?'

‘I'd come home from work the previous evening and found my father crowing over it…that's how I knew about your mother. He'd sent some of his goons to steal it. To be honest, I'm not sure how he did it, or even if it had been taken from the villa. I just assumed… And when I could, I took it from him and brought it back, thinking I could just leave it in a drawer, or something.'

She looked away for a second, and then back. ‘I felt so bad about your family, what you'd been through, and I didn't want him to be responsible for causing more trouble. But then you came in…'

‘And the rest is history,' Leo said without humour. Angel had never seen him look so grim.

He shook his head, his eyes dark with something indefinable. Something that made Angel's heart trip unsteadily. ‘Angel, I—'

She spoke quickly. ‘Leo, I know exactly how it looked.
I
wouldn't have believed me. That's why I didn't even try and defend myself. I knew there was no point. The whole situation was completely damning.'

‘No.' A muscle popped in Leo's jaw. ‘Your father had to knock you about before I'd see the truth.'

Angel shook her head. ‘Leo, don't, please. I brought this on myself.'

Leo was fierce. ‘Not like this, Angel, never like this. If I'd thought for a second that your father was capable of this…' Waves of anger vibrated off Leo.

He touched Angel's cheek and said huskily, ‘You must be exhausted.'

Angel nodded. ‘I am a little.' But she thought of going to sleep, and all the images waiting to crowd her mind: her father's mottled face, the way his hand had come out of nowhere and stunned her so badly that she'd blacked out for a minute, only to come to and see him rifling through the drawers of the study. Thankfully Calista had had the sense to be nearby, and had called the security guard up from the gate. He'd escorted Angel's father from the villa, but not until Angel had insisted that his pockets be searched. Luckily he hadn't found anything worth stealing.

‘But I don't want to go to bed…' Her voice was more fierce than she'd intended, and she saw Leo wince.

‘Angel, you must know that I wouldn't expect—'

She covered her hand with his, inordinately touched. ‘No, I don't mean that. I just mean I don't really want to go to sleep—not just yet anyway. I don't want to think about…what happened.'

Leo nodded. Within minutes Angel was sitting on a comfortable couch in the TV den, with a blanket over her, while Leo went to get some food from Calista. Then he was back
and fussing over Angel like a mother hen, making her take some soup, because it would hurt too much for her to have to chew anything.

It felt as if the most delicate chain of silver stretched between them now, connecting them, and Angel clung onto it greedily.

Leo switched on the TV without asking any more questions, and seemed content to watch inane TV, sensing Angel's need to get lost in something. She let the ribald movie wash over her like a balm, and relished Leo's protective arm around her like a guilty secret.

Angel's body had turned into a dead weight against Leo. He looked down at the glossy head that lay against his chest. The hand so trustingly curled against him. So many questions bubbled up inside him, so much recrimination, and underneath it all a fierce, primal anger. He could still see the livid swelling, and wanted to go and find Tito Kassianides and beat him to a pulp. Leo had to consciously calm himself. His heart-rate was already zooming skywards just when he thought of that man.

But, as if in league with his earlier thoughts, an insidious voice mocked him. What if this was all a set-up? What if this was part of a plan—a ruse to arouse his sympathy, his trust in Angel? Leo felt sick at the thought. It couldn't be.
It couldn't be
. She'd been a virgin, for heaven's sake. His body still thrilled with a deep-seated male satisfaction at knowing that he'd been her only lover.

Too much had fallen into place when Angel had explained everything earlier. Leo was disgusted with himself. Was he so jaded, so cynical after witnessing what he had as a child, that he'd believed someone would go to the lengths that Angel had in order to manipulate him?

Grimly, he knew he didn't have to answer that question. Leo flicked off the TV and without disturbing Angel stood from the couch, lifting her into his arms. He took her up to his bed and, after settling her, took off his clothes and got in beside her, pulling her close.

 

Angel woke when the dawn was a faint light coming into the room from outside. She registered that she was in Leo's bed, in her panties and T-shirt. She went hot. He must have taken off her tracksuit bottoms when she'd fallen asleep on him downstairs. She was on her side, and Leo was tucked around her, his arm a heavy weight over her waist, his hand close to cupping her breast. He was naked. Despite everything her blood stirred and her body started to hum.

She had a premonition of Leo waking to find that she was still in his bed, and went to move. She heard a deep growl. ‘Stay where you are.'

Angel stopped moving, but couldn't pretend she could sleep again—not when she felt Leo's body hardening and firming against hers, making her want to push her bottom against him in clear provocation. Her breathing had grown short and shallow. She lifted her head minutely, to ease a slight ache, and sucked in a breath when pain shot through her jaw, reminding her all too clearly of yesterday's events.

Instantly Leo moved and hovered over Angel, his jaw dark with stubble. With a gentle hand he turned her face so he could see. His eyes and his low curse told her how bad it looked. It felt as if it had turned into the size of a football.

She winced. ‘Is it very bad?'

Leo quirked a wry smile. ‘It's a glorious shade of blueish purple, and about as big as my fist.' Then he got serious. ‘We're going to the hospital today, Angel, I don't care what you say.'

Angel knew better than to argue. She lay there and looked up at Leo, and felt her chest and heart swell. With the impenetrable wall of mistrust between them gone, she realized that she loved him. She really loved him. Without thinking, she reached up and traced the scar above his lip with a finger. ‘How did you get that?'

Leo caught her finger and kissed it. ‘I'd like to be able to say that I got it while defending a younger kid from being bullied.'

‘You didn't?'

He shook his head mock-mournfully. ‘No, I got it when I fell off my training bike onto the sidewalk when I was three.'

Angel's heart lurched, and she fell a little bit more in love. She would have smiled if it hadn't hurt, but Leo was tucking himself around her again and saying, ‘Go back to sleep, Angel, you need it.'

Angel felt the waves of tiredness coming over her again and said sleepily, ‘Okay, but wake me up and I'll go back to my own bed in a bit…'

Angel didn't see the spasm of pain cross Leo's face. Leo lay awake, staring into the dim morning light for a long time.

 

Two weeks later Angel looked at the finished set of jewellery for Ari and Lucy. She looked at it but didn't really see it. Experimentally she moved her jaw and touched it gingerly. The swelling had gone down completely, and all that remained of the bruise was a faint yellowish tinge that could be covered by make-up.

Leo had taken Angel to a private clinic the day after it had happened and they'd ruled out a fracture; it was just a very severe bruise. Since that night Leo had been amazingly attentive, eschewing all public engagements to stay at home with
Angel despite her protestations. From going out practically every night, now they ate in, and Leo had surprised her one night by dismissing Calista and serving up a delicious home-cooked dinner. He was doing absolutely nothing to help her stop falling deeper and deeper in love with him, and she knew that he would not welcome it.

Clearly Leo was feeling guilty at having misjudged her, despite her assurances that she had been as much to blame by coming here in the first place. He'd insisted that Angel sleep with him every night, but he'd been careful not to touch her. Last night Angel had turned to him in the bed, frustration clawing through her body. She knew Leo was aroused, she felt it every night, but he was making the same protestations. Treating her as if she was made out of china and might break.

Angel had put her hand around him intimately and said, ‘I'm better, Leo,
please
…' She cringed now to think of it, of how ardently she'd responded when he'd finally groaned deep in his throat and drawn her on top of him, lifting her vest away, helping her out of her pants. She'd felt as if she'd been starved of water in the desert for a month. But she'd been the one to initiate it, not Leo.