Chapter Three #2
But at least with Leo, it would just be about getting through the charade of the next three months, less if she could manage it.
She was counting on being able to encourage Leo to change his mind about this marriage.
After being Aldo’s wife, and after fake smiling her way through social engagement after social engagement, doing everything not to stand out, she now knew exactly what to do, to stand out.
The following morning Angelica woke up and it took her a couple of minutes to figure out where she was. On another continent. Married to a different man. Her ex-lover. Leo. She sat up in bed. She was still wearing the robe she’d put on after the shower.
She couldn’t hear any sounds and, after freshening up, she belted the robe tighter around her—because it was either that or what she’d been wearing yesterday—and went out into the apartment.
All was quiet and then she heard noises from the kitchen area.
She went to investigate and found an older man dressed in smart black trousers and a black top.
He smiled and introduced himself as Michael.
‘I’m Mr Falzone’s apartment manager. He told me to let you know that he’s gone to meetings but he’s arranged for the glam squad to come at four to help you get ready. ’
Ready for what? Angelica didn’t ask. ‘I… OK.’ Obviously there was an event this evening and Leo expected her to go with him.
‘What would you like for brunch?’
She gulped. ‘What time is it?’
‘Midday.’
She’d slept for hours. ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise.’
Michael waved a hand, ‘Mr Falzone said you weren’t to be disturbed. I can prepare something for you now?’
Angelica wanted to get out onto the streets and breathe some fresh air and orientate herself but— ‘I’d like to go out actually, but I have a small problem, I didn’t bring any luggage with me and I only have what I was wearing while travelling.’
Michael walked out of the kitchen and said, ‘Come with me.’
Bemused, Angelica followed him to a room adjacent to her bedroom suite.
He opened a door and she looked inside. It was a dressing room, full of clothes.
She walked in. They were all in her size.
An array of casual clothes and evening-wear.
Sports clothes. Underwear. She turned to Michael. ‘How long has this been here?’
‘Mr Falzone had a stylist deliver the clothes this morning. I have her number if you need to contact her for anything but she’ll be back later with the glam squad.’
The fact that this hadn’t already been here before her arrival settled something inside Angelica. Leo obviously hadn’t taken it for granted that she would comply.
A flash of gold caught her eye and she reached out and touched a dress. It was like a liquid waterfall of silken folds. She recognised the iconic designer label.
‘If there’s anything else?’
Angelica forced a smile at the man. ‘No, thank you, this is very helpful.’
He left and Angelica pulled out some jeans and a long-sleeved top. Fresh underwear. It didn’t surprise her that Leo had done this, although the speed with which he’d managed to do it was impressive, but he’d always been generous when they’d been together before.
She found a soft, light leather jacket and grabbed her bag and left the apartment, taking the elevator all the way down to the ground floor and then stepping outside.
The air was cool, but hadn’t yet got to that frigidly cold state.
It reminded her of a snowbound Christmas she’d spent here.
She’d actually been happy to be here alone because Aldo had been in Europe and the adverse weather had meant she couldn’t travel.
He hadn’t been happy of course because there had been several high-profile winter social events to attend, but there hadn’t been much he could do about it.
Angelica had called her mother and brother and they’d video called for hours.
She hadn’t revealed the extent of the threat she, or they, were under, not wanting them to worry.
She’d had to let them believe that she was still under advice to avoid physical contact in order to shore up their safety.
She’d also used work as an excuse. She’d despised Aldo for that, because it would have been safe enough after a year of no contact to visit them. But he’d ruined that chance.
And, thanks to Leo, she was still being held back from seeing them, but now at least she knew they were safe. And she might not be free, yet, but she was a lot freer than she had been.
She sucked in a deep breath of Manhattan’s finest air and went to find a diner. Clinging onto her independence as much as possible had helped her survive marriage to Aldo, and she was sure it would do the same with Leo.
Except, you don’t mind spending time with him, pointed out a small voice.
Angelica scowled and slipped a pair of shades on against the late autumn sun.
She’d merely lost one gaoler, who had been replaced by another.
Leo Falzone meant nothing to her and any notion that he still affected her was just down to shock and memories.
It was early evening and the stylist and glam squad had left the apartment. Angelica hadn’t seen Leo all day but he had returned to the apartment and there was a knock on the dressing-room door now. Her silly heart kicked up a notch. ‘Yes?’
‘We’ll be leaving in five minutes.’
Angelica felt like childishly sticking her tongue out at the door but refrained and said, ‘OK.’ He hadn’t checked in with her all day, had merely married her, brought her across the globe, dumped her at his apartment and now expected her to perform like a puppet on a string for his benefit.
Not so different from Aldo after all. She checked her reflection in the mirror. She looked the epitome of classic elegance. Hair up in a smooth chignon. A strapless black sheath of a dress. High heels. Discreet jewellery. Understated make-up.
Aldo would have approved. And she was sure that Leo would take one look, and also approve. Something about that now chafed. She could walk out of the door now, a picture of acceptable perfection. She could. But she wouldn’t.
With an efficiency born of changing clothes a million times a day for work, Angelica took off the dress and hung it back up before choosing an entirely different outfit.
Leo paced back and forth in the main living area. He was wearing a classic black tuxedo and he’d never noticed before that it felt constrictive, but it did, around his neck.
He’d found it hard to concentrate today, distracted by Angelica.
Even when he wasn’t with her. He knew she’d left the apartment and for a couple of hours, until he’d been notified of her return, he hadn’t been entirely sure she wouldn’t just disappear.
As much as an internationally renowned model could disappear.
She’d always been independent. It was something he’d forgotten about her. It was one of the qualities that had attracted him to her. She’d been so much more grounded and self-sufficient than other women he’d met.
But he’d also felt uncomfortable about just leaving her at the apartment, and he’d intended calling to let her know about the event tonight but the meeting with his legal team to get the process under way of putting the business back in his name had been intricate and intense.
But things were under way and soon Leo would have everything back in his name. Never again would he be caught out and now, with his wife by his side, there was no reason why— There was a sound from behind him and he turned around to see Angelica in the doorway.
He frowned. She was wearing jeans that clung like a second skin to every inch of her long legs and shapely hips, and a plain black T-shirt. High heels. Her hair was up though, in a smooth and elegant chignon. She wore chunky diamond jewellery around her neck and wrist.
He said, ‘You’re not ready.’
‘I am ready. I didn’t feel especially like wearing a dress.’
‘It’s a black-tie event.’
She indicated the T-shirt. ‘I’m wearing black.’
Leo assessed the situation in an instant.
So this was how she was going to play it.
Something kicked to life inside him, a spurt of excitement, even though he wanted to deny it.
He walked towards her and saw her eyes widen, a little flush come into her cheeks.
He stopped just in front of her. ‘You know I don’t respond to bluffs, Angel. ’
There was a spark in her eyes at Angel. She tipped up her chin. Dio. She was stunning. And treacherous. He couldn’t afford to forget that. And three years with Aldo had clearly encouraged a penchant for games.
She said, ‘I’m not bluffing, Leo.’
He hid his reaction to Leo. ‘Ready to go, then?’
He saw the chink of uncertainty and then it was gone. ‘Ready.’
He put his hand lightly around her arm, the touch of skin on skin igniting his blood. He gritted his jaw against her effect. She was a siren and he’d chosen to marry her so he would just have to control himself.
They were almost at the door when she stopped in front of the mirror to check herself. He let her arm go. She said, ‘Coco Chanel’s advice was to always remove one thing before you walked out the door.’
Leo said, ‘I can help with that.’ From her head, he plucked the diamanté comb holding her chignon in place. Her hair fell down under its own weight, tumbling around her shoulders in silken waves.
He had to curb the urge to bury his hands in her hair and left the comb on the table. ‘There, perfect. Let’s go.’
There was some sense of satisfaction in the surprised expression on her face but by the time they stepped outside and into the back of the car, her face was a cool mask again.
In the car, Leo was acutely aware of Angelica’s long legs provocatively encased in that soft denim. The T-shirt that did little to hide the swell of her perfect breasts.