Chapter 10
TEN
A short, chaotic half hour later, Amelia closed the door to their suite of rooms. The guest wing of the house had three floors, and their suite was on the top floor. Windows lined two walls, giving a view of the forest to the side of the house and the vast green lawn and pool behind.
The suite was beautiful. Decorated in dark green, cream, and rich warm wood, it was as calming as it was luxurious. They stood in a small living room that boasted two armchairs, a three-seater couch, and a fireplace with a big mirror on the mantel. There was a small desk beneath a wide window where Amelia would be able to do some work, and a little round table sat next to a coffee machine and breakfast bar.
Through two pocket doors, she spied the king-sized bed.
And her brain short-circuited.
Sleeping arrangements. There was only one bed. Of course there was. They were supposed to be engaged! How had she not considered this? She blinked, staring at the stacks of pillows and luxe bedding, and her mind spun out in a squeal of burned rubber and shredded tires. Her suitcase was placed next to Leo’s, like they belonged together at the foot of the bed.
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Leo said, clearly not suffering the same crash-and-burn thought process as Amelia, then slumped down into the piece of furniture he’d named. He scrubbed his face, and when he pulled his hands away, he looked worn out.
Tentatively, Amelia dropped into one of the armchairs. It was upholstered in soft brown leather, and the cushions sank down just the right amount as she leaned back. “What time do we have to be at dinner again?”
Leo checked his watch. “We have an hour and a half.”
“You think they’ll find her ring?”
“I hope so. It’s worth twelve million dollars.”
A strange, strangled noise fell from Amelia’s lips. “Twelve—” She sucked in a breath. “Excuse me? Did you say twelve million dollars?”
Leo snorted, slumping on the couch. He kicked his foot up onto the coffee table and pushed his hair off his forehead, looking disheveled, undone, and delicious.
Amelia tore her gaze away. She had to get a grip on herself. Casting for something else to talk about, she asked, “What’s the dress code for dinner?”
“Cocktail,” Leo answered. He turned to glance at her, his face uncharacteristically serious. “Thanks for doing this, Amelia.”
She shrugged. “You’re helping me out too.”
His gaze remained on her, so Amelia stood and wandered to the window to try to get away from it. She opened the window, leaning against the frame to take a breath of cool evening air. It smelled sweet and fresh, and it tempered some of the heat rising from her skin. A stone wall jutted out to the left of the window where the building sprawled, but the rest of the view was uninterrupted forest.
“What’s the next topic in your spreadsheet?” Leo asked behind her.
Amelia hummed noncommittally as his question reminded her of their kiss. She’d have to be careful; last night had shaken her. It would be so easy to confuse Leo’s advice for something more. She couldn’t get attached to him when he so clearly was not attached to her. “I’d like to go over general advice for a first date. I don’t know how to act when I’m out with a guy.”
“You just have to be yourself, Amelia.”
She turned to glare at him. “That hasn’t worked so far.”
“What if it’s the truth?”
“If that were the truth, I would have been asked on a second date at some point over the past six years. Being myself isn’t working.”
“I don’t know about that,” Leo mumbled so low that Amelia thought she misheard him.
She arched a brow. “What?”
“Nothing. What usually happens when you go on a first date? Why do you think you never get a second one?” He stalked toward her, leaning on the other side of the window frame. Late-evening light carved his features and pulled out the green in his eyes.
Amelia blinked and looked out the window. He was too handsome for his own good—or Amelia’s. “There’s no ‘usually’ about it. I haven’t been on a date in over a year,” she admitted. “When I started my business, I stopped dating. I was too busy, and I was sick of feeling unattractive.”
“Okay,” Leo said, voice neutral. “Tell me about the last date you went on.”
Pinching her lips, Amelia let out an unladylike grunt. She didn’t like talking about this stuff, but wasn’t Leo the exact person who could help her? “The last date I went on was a guy I met on an app. When we exchanged messages, he said all the right things. Told me he liked ambitious women, said intelligence was a turn-on. Complimented my pictures, made decent jokes. We met up at a bar and it was all going great until he asked me what I did for work. I told him I’d just quit my job to start my own business, so I was really busy trying to get that off the ground. I probably rambled on for too long, but it was exciting. I’d just landed my first client, and I remember telling my date about that. It was like a switch flipped in him. Whatever it was I said was a complete turn-off. We’d ordered appetizers to have with our drinks, and he left before they even came out of the kitchen.”
Leo shifted, leaning his forearm on the window frame to look out at the greenery beyond. A frown tugged his brows.
“Look,” Amelia continued when he said nothing, “I’m not crippled by insecurity. I like my body. I like my brains. I think I’m a good person. But I just… I don’t know! It’s like guys don’t see me and think, I want to have sex with her . There’s no attraction.” She stumbled on her words when Leo gave her a strange look, then soldiered on. “And the last few times I’ve made it to the kissing or heavy petting stages with a guy, I always end up overthinking it and messing up. I don’t need you to tell me I’m pretty or pump me up with empty compliments. I need you to show me how to be attractive in a way that guys respond to. I need help .”
A snort sounded, and Leo shook his head. “I’m not going to tell you to dumb yourself down just to attract some idiot who can’t recognize your worth.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do? If Ben texts me and asks me out?—”
“When,” Leo corrected.
Amelia rolled her eyes. “Fine. When he asks me out, how do I show him that I’m interested? How do I make sure he doesn’t just ghost me because he doesn’t feel a spark?”
Leo’s jaw tightened. His hand curled into a fist for a beat, then he pushed himself off the window and turned to face her. He seemed to come to a decision and gave her a deep nod. “Okay. Let’s do a little role play. I’m Ben the Barista.”
“You can just call him Ben, you know.”
“So, I’m Ben the Barista, and you’re you. We’ve met up for a drink, and I’m telling you about my stupid job making coffee.”
“Leo,” she chided, the corners of her lips curling. “Be nice.”
“Blah, blah, blah…something about latte art. I’m great even though I didn’t have the balls to ask you for your phone number, and I probably spent three days stalking your photos online before sending you a one-word message.” He waited expectantly, then rolled his wrist at Amelia. “Now, go. Your turn. What do you say to that?”
Amelia looked at him like he was insane. “What? You haven’t even said anything for me to respond to.”
“Wrong,” Leo replied, lifting his index finger. “All you need to do is find an excuse to touch me—my arm, my hand, whatever—smile, and ask questions. Guys love talking about themselves. Ask me a question about coffee beans or grind size or whatever.”
Amelia tilted her head. A cool breeze floated through the open window, ruffling the ends of her hair. Leo had shifted closer at some point, so she could smell the fresh scent of his soap. He obviously had a bone to pick with Ben, but she might as well play along. In a flat voice, she asked, “How do you know what grind size to use for the coffees you make?”
“Well, that depends on the freshness of the coffee bean and what you’re using it for. Pour-over coffees need a slightly coarser grind, and?—”
“Wait. How do you know this stuff?”
Leo clicked his tongue. “That was the perfect opportunity for you to pretend to be fascinated by every word coming out of my mouth, Amelia.”
“Flirting is insane.”
He huffed, tilting his head from side to side. “True.”
“It seems really fake.”
“Sometimes it is.”
She bit her lip. “I’m not sure I like that.”
He reached over and gently touched her forearm. “What about you? Tell me about your business.”
A little buzz of warmth emanated from the place where he’d touched her skin. Her heart beat a tiny bit faster. What had he asked her, again? Oh. Right. “Well, a couple of years ago, I was working as a data analyst for a health insurance company, and I felt really restricted by some of their policies. I thought I could do a better job for my clients if I struck out on my own, so I…” Her eyes widened. She looked down at her arm, then up at Leo. He was grinning. “What the heck!”
Laughing, Leo flicked his fingers toward himself. “Your turn. Hit me.”
“What, just touch you and ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
He wore a navy button-down shirt tucked into dark-gray fitted pants. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, and his collar was slightly crooked. With fingers that only trembled the slightest bit, she reached up and adjusted his collar. With a start, she realized she’d done the exact same thing the first time they’d met. She gulped and asked, “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”
“Just the one brother,” he answered, body leaning toward hers as she pulled her hand away. “Marlon’s two years older than me.”
“Are you close?” She looked up and met his eyes.
Leo shrugged, eyes darkening. “Close enough. You?”
“Just Maggie.” Her voice came out breathy, and Leo shifted closer still. The moment hung between them, and words fled from Amelia’s mind. What was she supposed to be doing? Asking…questions… What questions?
All she could see was the fading sun warming Leo’s skin and his green eyes burning as they met hers. He made a quiet, rough noise in his throat and slipped his hand onto her waist to tug her closer. His head angled and dipped, and Amelia knew they were going to kiss again.
She parted her lips as her pulse pounded through her body, drawing her awareness to all the places she wanted Leo to touch. Arm tightened on her waist, he brought his free hand up to cup her jaw. His hand was so big his fingers spread over the side of her neck and jaw, thumb coasting over her lips as he tilted her head up.
When Leo spoke, she felt his breath on her lips. His voice was a low, erotic rumble. “You are the most?—”
“It was on my finger!” The hissed exclamation reached them through the window.
Amelia froze. Leo didn’t let her go, but he turned his head toward the noise.
Fred’s voice, tight with tension, came next. “Baby, are you sure you didn’t take it off? Maybe in the bathroom?”
“I was next to you the whole time, Fred,” came the whispered reply. “I didn’t leave your side. I had it when we greeted Leo’s fiancée, remember?”
Fred hummed. A dog yipped.
“No, Butter. We aren’t going out in search for the perfect place to pee. You have to make do with this corner.” Nadia sounded stressed, even when she tried to gentle her voice for her dog.
Amelia frowned, wondering why they could hear the couple so clearly. She angled her upper body closer to the window and saw Fred and Nadia leaning against the building, notched in a corner formed by the guest wing wall and the rest of the building. The dog was marking his territory against the stone wall.
It must have been an acoustic quirk that allowed Amelia and Leo to eavesdrop.
“The ring didn’t slip off?” Fred sounded tense.
“We searched that room top to bottom, Fred. Someone took it,” Nadia answered. “They took it right off my finger.”
Meeting Leo’s gaze with her own wide-eyed stare, Amelia put a hand against her mouth.
“I don’t…” Fred cut himself off with a grunt. “I believe you, baby, but I just don’t see how…”
“There’s no other explanation. You know it was loose, and I didn’t want to have it resized until my fingers healed. We scoured the room. If it had fallen off, we would’ve found it. I was in that room the whole time. My ring was stolen , Fred.”
After a short pause, Amelia heard Fred huff. “We’ll see how everyone acts at dinner. I’ll have the staff keep an eye on the guests, and I’ll make sure all movements in and out of the property are tracked. If someone came to my house to steal from me, I will find out.” Rage filled his voice. “And if any of my employees are lying to me—for any reason—they’ll live to regret it.”
The sound of a quick kiss reached the third floor, and then the couple was gone. Amelia poked her head out the window to make sure, then quickly closed it and whirled to face Leo.
He was grim, and he only said one word: “Shit.”
Amelia followed Leo out of the guest wing and down the grand staircase near the house’s front door. They were directed past the Blue Room hallway and into an elegant dining room. A long table stretched in the middle of the room, surrounded by ornate chairs. About half the guests were already seated. Amelia took a seat next to Cora, and Leo settled on her other side.
“Good evening,” Cora said with a kind smile.
“Hi.” Amelia’s own lips curled in response. She couldn’t help it; she liked Cora. The woman radiated grandmotherly energy, and after everything that had happened earlier, it was nice to be seated between two people who didn’t put her on edge.
“Beautiful place settings, don’t you think?” Cora said, admiring her fork. The silverware was real silver, polished to a high shine. Cora tilted the fork this way and that to let the light bounce off of it.
“The whole house is incredible,” Amelia replied. She shifted her gaze to Fred, who was seated at the head of the table. “You have a beautiful home,” she told him.
He nodded in acknowledgment of her compliment, but Amelia could tell the jovial persona was gone. In its place was a cold, perceptive man who surveyed his employees and guests with eyes that missed nothing. His all-too-perceptive gaze shifted to one of the waiters milling around, who approached to fill Leo and Amelia’s glasses with ruby-red wine.
When the waiter stepped back, Fred leaned against the back of his chair. “Leo never told me how the two of you met.”
His question was a blatant lie, and Amelia knew it. Leo told her everything he’d said to his boss, and it included their imaginary first meeting. Nerves seized Amelia from head to toe, but she fought to keep her body relaxed. Turning to Leo, she forced her lips into a calm smile. “It was in an airplane,” she said, remembering the story Leo had shared with her on Tuesday night. “I was on the last leg of a tour, and he was on the way home from an event. We argued over the overhead compartment.”
“Amelia had taken more than her fair share of space,” Leo added.
“That is not true , and you know it,” Amelia exclaimed, affronted on behalf of Fake Amelia in The Airplane That Didn’t Exist.
Leo just laughed.
Fred made a noncommittal noise, and Amelia took the opportunity to down a big gulp of wine. She glanced at Leo, whose eyes had grown serious, though his body was relaxed.
“We’re here!” A gigantic man spread his arms as he entered the room. “The party can start!”
“Mark,” Vanessa chided. “Not that kind of party.”
“Not yet,” Mark replied, winking.
Ari snorted, stepping into the room behind the couple. He’d changed from his matte black shirt to a shiny black version, and he looked very sleek and elegant, apart from his beady eyes.
The brothers, George and Gregory, were already seated across from Amelia and Leo, and Robert Lafontaine, the fixer, was diagonally across from Amelia, on Fred’s left.
Ari took the empty seat on Fred’s right, and Vanessa and her beau settled beside Leo.
Someone in this room had taken Nadia’s twelve-million-dollar ring. Amelia scanned the faces, their expressions ranging from bored to shrewd to cheery, and she had no idea who the culprit could be.
“This color really brings out your eyes,” Vanessa said to Leo, touching the fabric of his forest-green shirt. In light of their latest lesson on flirting, Amelia side-eyed the touch and the compliment. The other woman was laying it on pretty thick, especially considering her date was sitting just the other side of her, and Leo’s supposed fiancée was on just the other side of him. That made her a person of questionable morals—but it didn’t make her a thief.
Ari leaned toward Fred. “How’s Nadia doing? Did she find her ring?”
Amelia tried not to make it obvious she was listening. Was Ari ingratiating himself with Fred to avoid suspicion because he’d stolen the ring, or was he just being polite?
“Nadia is taking the evening off,” Fred said, not answering the question about the ring. So he was keeping his cards close to his chest.
“Big rock,” Cora noted, eyes on her glass of wine.
Fred just grunted.
Amelia glanced down the table and found Robert Lafontaine watching her. The older man lifted his glass toward her, then bent his head toward his wife, seated to his left, to murmur quiet words to her. He was Goodhew’s fixer. What did that mean, exactly? Did he do anything illegal for the company? Could he be tempted by twelve million dollars’ worth of vivid pink diamond?
Mark guffawed a couple of seats over, startling Amelia out of her thoughts. Vanessa’s date called a waiter over to refill his wine, clearly comfortable making the most of the free booze. Amelia, on the other hand, couldn’t relax. Paranoia rose in her with every interaction and every glance. This stupid retreat was terrible for her health. She made it through the four-course dinner, chatting and laughing, pretending that everything was okay. Every time Fred’s eyes landed on her, she tried not to freeze up. He watched everyone at the table as the meal progressed, and Amelia knew he was sniffing out lies.
She just hoped he wouldn’t sniff out hers and Leo’s. If suspicion fell on the two of them because of their false engagement, would it snowball into accusations of theft?
Best not to find out.
“So, Amelia,” Vanessa said, scooping a tiny bit of semifreddo onto her spoon. “Tell me about your band.” She stuck the spoon into her mouth in a sensual, slow movement. Everything the woman did was sensual. Her clothing was fitted but not too tight, with just enough cleavage to be enticing but not vulgar.
It was impressive.
If she wasn’t hanging onto Leo’s arm and using every excuse to brush her breasts against him, Amelia thought she might be better off asking Vanessa for flirting advice instead of Leo.
Instead, she smiled. “We’re The Nymphomaniacs,” she said, and she was able to keep a straight face because she’d practiced in the mirror for an hour yesterday. “We play soft pop-rock-punk.” That was the description Leo had given everyone, which was as nonsensical as it was ridiculous.
The man seriously needed to come up with better cover stories in the future. She could have been talking about airplane service and safety measures right now if he’d just told them he was engaged to a flight attendant like a normal person.
“How fascinating,” Vanessa said. “And you’re able to support yourself with your music?”
Odd question. Amelia took a second to study the other woman. She’d spoken loudly enough that Fred’s attention swung to them. Was Vanessa purposefully planting seeds in her boss’s mind? Had she stolen the ring and was now deflecting suspicion?
“Amelia’s band is really successful,” Leo said, stretching his arm behind her chair. “They just got signed to a major record label.”
What. The. Heck.
Leo’s announcement was met with an avalanche of congratulations and follow-up questions, which meant Amelia needed to lie on the fly, which also meant she wanted to take her bowl of semifreddo and smash it over Leo’s perfect, expensive haircut.
By the time dinner was over, Amelia was dead on her feet. When the door closed on their suite, she was no closer to figuring out who’d taken Nadia’s ring, having eliminated no one and convinced herself that any one of the people at the table could have taken it.
“You really dumped me in the shit with that record label announcement,” she grumbled at Leo.
He was busy grabbing pillows from the bed to make up the sofa where he’d spend the night. He fluffed them against the arm of the couch before glancing at Amelia. “You did well.”
“No thanks to you.”
The undercurrent of tension and suspicion she’d felt through the whole dinner had worn Amelia’s nerves down. She wasn’t used to interacting with so many people, especially not when she was meant to keep up a facade. She was in way over her head, and she was beginning to realize that she’d gotten the raw end of the deal.
So, in short, Amelia was upset.
Her upset morphed into anger as Leo carried on making his bed, because he obviously didn’t understand just how upset and worried she was. So it wasn’t a total surprise that her mouth totally ran away with her, and what came out next was, “What’s up with you and Vanessa? Did you sleep with her?”
Leo had been stretching a blanket over the couch. At her question, he straightened and turned, his eyes narrowing. His shirt really did bring out the color of them, which was annoying. He was annoying. This whole situation was annoying!
And she couldn’t leave, because Fred would think she’d stolen twelve freaking million dollars from his fiancée! How could she prove her innocence? She couldn’t prove the absence of the ring unless they found whoever had stolen it. She was stuck, and annoyed, and angry, and tired, and Leo was walking toward her with a strange expression on his face, which was extra annoying. Ugh !
“Amelia,” he said, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips, “are you jealous?”
“What?” she screeched. “No!”
“You’re totally jealous,” he said, closing in on her.
She had her back against the door, and she crossed her arms to protect herself from him. “I am not.”
His palms landed on the door above her head, caging her against it. “You’re seething right now. So angry, and all because another woman was all over me.”
“Wow. Arrogant much?”
“Look at how red your cheeks are.” His eyes had gone lazy, lips curling into nearly a full smile.
“Go away,” she said, but she didn’t duck under his arms to get away herself. Her heart had started to thump very, very hard. How did he smell so good? It was unnatural. And very nice.
No! Not nice. Totally unnatural and annoying. Like him and his stupid flirty ways.
“I think we should revisit what we went over yesterday,” Leo said, his voice dropping low. His body inched closer, so big and broad it was all Amelia could see. “I don’t think you really got what I was trying to tell you.”
She sipped in little breaths, scowling at him. “What are you talking about?”
“This.”
He kissed her. This time, he didn’t start soft. He dug his hand into her hair and crushed his lips to hers, hot and hard and hot . Double hot. Amelia whimpered, hands clinging to his shoulders, and Leo pressed the whole length of his body against hers to pin her to the door.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and lost herself in the kiss. All the tension of the evening drained out of her as Leo swept his tongue against hers, deepening the kiss with a low groan.
His hands dropped to her waist. She’d changed into a black slip dress for dinner, and the silky fabric bunched as his fingers curled against her. He slid one hand up to cup her breast, plumping it up. He then dropped his head to kiss her through the fabric of her slip and her thin bra, sucking the peaked tip of her breast into his mouth through her dress.
Amelia’s head dropped back against the door as she let out a rough moan, her fingers digging into Leo’s hair to hold him there.
Panting hard, Leo straightened. His hips pinned Amelia’s to the door, and he watched her with nearly black eyes. Broad hands spanned her waist, thumbs making small circles on her stomach. He was hard; she could feel it pressed against her lower belly.
“Do you get it now?” he growled.
She did not. She didn’t understand a single thing right now, including how to spell her own name. But she nodded and said, “Yeah. I see. I just need to get my tablet and make some notes.”
Leo watched her for a beat, his eyes narrowing slightly. Then his shoulders dropped the tiniest amount, and he pulled away like it pained him to stop touching her. Amelia had the sneaking suspicion that she’d said the entirely wrong thing. Her stomach sank.
“We should get some sleep,” he told her after a heavy, stilted pause. “I’ll use the bathroom first.”