Chapter Six
Her attitude infuriated him beyond reason.
‘Care? Your father used you, screwed you over, and you are still putting your life on hold for him.’ He pointed out the basic facts in what was intended to be an expressionless monotone but the anger he struggled to contain seeped like acid into his voice.
‘You think that is a badge of courage? Dio…! It is stupid! And what sort of message does that send out? Here’s my other cheek!
’ he snarled, turning his head to one side and poking a finger at his own lean cheek.
Amy was seized with a compulsion to reach out and lay her hand against his brown cheek, feel the stubble under her fingertips. She was unable to take her eyes off his face, all the passion in him drawing her like a moth to a flame.
‘What are you staring at?’
‘You are so Italian here.’
‘It’s not about geography; I am half Italian everywhere.’
‘Well, you have certainly embraced the Latin thing.’
‘Do not change the subject, Amy.’
‘I’m not, I’m… Well, maybe just a little bit,’ she conceded. ‘My father—’ she sighed out, dodging his accusing stare. ‘He is my father; you must understand that, for all his faults. Your own grandfather—’
‘Rejected my mother.’ He enunciated each word slowly, the heat that had been in his voice becoming an icy coldness as he related his past. ‘I barely remember, but she came from here. Imagine what it must have been like to go from this to the life she had. Her own father sent her into a life of penury and back-breaking misery. She was a single mother with nothing and…’ He paused, the muscles in his throat working as he swallowed, visibly gaining control of his emotions as he finished in a voice now devoid of all emotion.
‘Forgiveness does not come as easily to me as it appears to for you.’
‘You have forgiven your grandfather, though.’
‘I have accepted who he is; it is not quite the same thing.’
‘After Mum died and then Dad was arrested and bailed…’ she said slowly.
Some of the heat died from his face. ‘Your mother always seemed like a nice person.’
She nodded, tears crowding her eyes. ‘She was, but I think when Alice died… Losing a baby, a child, like that, it has to change you.’ Hand on her throat, her chest lifted in a shuddering sigh. ‘I always wish I had told her—’
He watched as she stopped, a stricken self-conscious expression, quickly banished, flashing across her face.
‘Told her what?’
‘Dad was devastated by her death and then… I was furious with him after the arrest, you know, especially after the police rolled up at Mum’s funeral.
We had massive rows and for the first time in years, I went to the stables.
I even got on a horse.’ She vented a hard little laugh at the memory. ‘Just to punish him.’
‘Did you enjoy it?’
The question made her smile wryly. ‘I do love horses, but it turns out I’m not too good with heights.’
Her attempt to laugh at herself brought an ache to his throat.
Leo was fully aware of the irony of his reaction.
He had brought her here to punish her and he had fallen into the trap of wanting to protect her, but it was an impulse he had no intention of surrendering to.
‘It is hardly surprising you were so angry with him.’
‘I know, but…one night I came home. He’d been bailed awaiting sentencing the next day, but I still went out and left him. When I walked in there were empty pill bottles everywhere, and he was unconscious…’
The shock of her stark description nailed him to the spot. ‘Your father attempted to take his own life?’
She nodded. ‘It was lucky I came home when I did.’
Leo compressed his lips. Expressing his suspicions was not going to make anyone feel better, but he had to wonder, knowing the man as he did, if Sinclair had not very carefully timed his suicide attempt. Whatever the truth was, Amy being her father’s protector now made much more sense.
‘I don’t know why I told you that.’ Amy’s smooth brow pleated as her eyes lifted to his face. It was stupid, considering he had appointed himself as her enemy, but she felt a sense of relief in finally having shared it.
Her legs felt shaky and she just hoped they would hold her up. During the to-and-fro of their conversation, a heat and a heavy raw awareness had been building until she could almost see and feel the blue crackle in the air, and not just in her legs.
‘You’ve not eaten enough to keep a sparrow alive.’ His voice was a sexy, dark silk rumble as he pre-empted her intention to move away by coming to stand in front of her, effectively pinning her with her back to the counter.
‘I’ve had enough. I was breaking more health and safety rules than you can dream of by sitting on the work surface,’ she said, her voice sounding a little high-pitched.
‘I never dream of health and safety rules. Do you want to know what I dream about, Amy?’
Playing for time, she tucked stray strands of toffee-coloured hair behind her ears.
The delay didn’t help as when she opened her mouth a squeak came out.
Not that Amy heard it past the mindless clamour in her blood—a driving desire to touch him becoming so loud it drowned out everything else.
A bomb could have exploded and she wouldn’t have heard it.
Her head lifted, her eyes half-closed, she could see the dark shadow of him through the delicate membrane.
‘Your mouth.’
She blinked her eyes open to see that Leo was staring at the mouth he’d just mentioned.
‘I dream about your laugh too…full-throated and the sexiest sound in the world.’
She gave a laugh now but it was nervous and breathless, more a sigh than a laugh.
‘I dream—’
Unable to stand further revelations, she cut across him. ‘Not of revenge?’
Her words hit him like a bucket of ice water.
The sexual tension moved below critical point as he acknowledged the charge with a careless shrug.
‘Another day, maybe? Right now, I want…’ He leaned in and touched her cheek with his thumb, running down the soft curve until it came to rest at the side of her mouth before moving to the curved seal of her lips. ‘I would like to explore every moist, warm crevice.’
Amy’s lips parted on a gasp as his mouth replaced his thumb. The kiss was feather-soft.
Her world seemed to otherwise stop as their eyes met and he kissed her for real, hard and hungry, driving her head back against the support of his hand.
The heat was instantaneous, as was her loss of control, and Amy was on a high as liquid warmth spilled between her legs.
It was that familiar, often dreamt of growling sound that vibrated in her throat that made him pull back. It was either that or obey every raw instinct that was urging him to sink into her, take her right here on the damned kitchen floor.
She deserved better than that.
For a man out for revenge, Leo, you’re showing way too much consideration, mocked the voice in his head.
‘That felt like revenge.’
He looked stunned by her response.
‘It was a kiss.’ His shrug dismissed it as nothing.
It was calculated, it was Leo exploiting her weakness, her desire for him, and when she compared it to the kisses they had once shared, kisses filled with lust, love, laughter and tenderness, she wanted to weep for what she had lost.
She brushed the back of her hand across her trembling lips as though to wipe away the touch and saw his eyes flare hot with some sort of emotion she didn’t have the energy or inclination to translate.
Blinking, she stalked over to the row of sinks and picked up a cloth.
‘What are you doing now?’
‘I’m cleaning up the mess you’ve made.’ The real mess, the tangle of conflicting emotions in her head, was not so easily dealt with, not with a wet cloth anyhow.
Maybe a bit of self-control required here, Amy.
The cloth was plucked from her hand and flung into a sink.
‘Are you trying to be a martyr? You’ve been up since dawn and you’ve seen nothing but the kitchen—’
She gave an indignant gasp. The cheek of the man! ‘And whose fault is that? You brought me in by the servants’ entrance.’
His grimace was not guilt exactly, but something that came as close as she had ever seen or was likely to on his face, and a moment later it was gone.
‘No one expected you to go straight to work.’
She fixed him with a narrow-eyed glare. ‘What did you expect, Leo?’
Good question. ‘Not what happened. Come on, I’ll show you to your room.’
She curled her lips into a sarcastic smile. ‘A cosy cellar somewhere, I can’t wait.’
‘I think we can at least manage hot and cold running water.’ He caught her gaze moving to the work surface and the plate and his lips tightened. ‘Leave it; someone else will attend to it.’
‘My, you really have grown into the arrogant billionaire lifestyle, haven’t you, Leo? I am the someone else that does the attending,’ she muttered, but her heart wasn’t in it. Weariness was washing over her as the day’s events finally caught up with her.
His eyes had narrowed but as he studied her face he simply shrugged. ‘I’ll give you the grand tour tomorrow, but we’ll use the shortcut tonight.’
She hadn’t noticed the stone spiral staircase in the lobby when they had arrived.
She was too tired to argue, too strung out on the emotions he’d dragged out of her, from the depths of her past.
By the time she had followed him to the top she had stopped counting the floors they had passed and was breathing hard.
‘This is the direct route from the service section to the east tower wing.’
Amy pictured the castle as she had arrived, the square twin towers that had loomed over the iconic edifice. ‘So we’re in the tower now?’
‘Yes, both towers, along with the defensive wall, were here before the rest came along in the mid-fourteenth century. They are no longer separate but part of the house itself.’
‘Your family have lived here all that time?’
‘We came along in the fifteenth century.’
‘Almost newbies then.’
He might have smiled at her quip but he was too far ahead to tell and she was almost skipping to keep up.