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But move to London she had, admittedly to a quieter part of the city, and now that she was here she was in danger of becoming just a little too accustomed to having Leo around. Okay, so he didn’t show up every evening, and he never stayed the night, but his presence was becoming an addiction she knew she ought to fight.
He had dropped all talk of marriage and yet she still felt on red alert the second he walked through the door. Her eyes still feasted surreptitiously on him and, even though she knew that she should be thanking her lucky stars that he was no longer pursuing the whole marriage thing—because he had ‘come to his senses’ and ‘seen the foolishness of hitching his wagon to a woman he didn’t love’—she was oddly deflated by the ease with which he had jettisoned the subject.
As always, her first sight of him as he strode into the small hallway, with its charming flagstone floor and tiny stained-glass window to one side, was one of intense awareness. She literally felt her mouth go dry.
‘You’re here earlier than...um...normal.’ She watched as he dealt her a slashing smile, one that made her legs go to jelly, one that made her want to hurl herself at him and wrap her arms around his neck. Every time she felt like this, she recalled what he had said about any marriage between them having upsides, having the distinct bonus of very good sex...
Leo’s eyes swept over her in an appraisal that was almost unconscious. He took in the loose trousers, because there was just a hint of a stomach beginning to show; the baggy clothes that would have rendered any woman drab and unappealing but which seemed unbelievably sexy when she was wearing them.
‘Is Bridget around?’ He had to drag his eyes away from her. Hell, she had told him in no uncertain terms that mutual sexual attraction just wasn’t enough on which to base a marriage, so how was it that she still turned him on? Even more so, now that she was carrying his baby.
‘She’s upstairs resting.’
‘There’s something I want to show you.’ He had no doubt that he would be able to view the property at this hour. He was, after all, in the driving seat. ‘So...why don’t you get your coat on? It’s a drive away.’
‘What do you want to show me?’
‘It’s a surprise.’
‘You know I hate surprises.’ She blushed when he raised one eyebrow, amused at that titbit of shared confidence between them.
‘This won’t be the sort of surprise you got two years ago when you returned from a weekend away to find the pub flooded.’
‘I’m not dressed for a meal out.’ Nor was she equipped for him to resume his erosion of her defences and produce more arguments for having his way...although she killed the little thrill at the prospect of having him try and convince her to marry him.
‘You look absolutely fine.’ He looked her over with a thoroughness that brought hectic colour to her cheeks. And, while he disappeared to have a few quick words with Bridget, Brianna took the opportunity—cursing herself, because why on earth did it matter, really?—to dab on a little bit of make-up and do something with her hair. She also took off the sloppy clothes and, although her jeans were no longer a perfect fit, she extracted the roomiest of them from the wardrobe and twinned them with a brightly coloured thick jumper that at least did flattering things for her complexion.
‘So, where are we going?’ They had cleared some of the traffic and were heading out towards the motorway. ‘Why are we leaving London?’
Leo thought of the perfect cottage nestled in the perfect grounds with all those perfect features and his face relaxed into a smile. ‘And you’re smiling.’ For some reason that crooked half-smile disarmed her. Here in the car, as they swept out of London on a remarkably fine afternoon, she felt infected with a holiday spirit, a reaction to the stress she had been under for the past few weeks. ‘A man’s allowed to smile, isn’t he?’ He flashed her a sideways glance that warmed her face. ‘We’re having a baby, Brianna. Being cold towards one another is not an option.’
Except, she thought, he hadn’t been cold towards her. He had done his damnedest to engage her in conversation and, thus far, he had remained undeterred by her lack of enthusiasm for engagement. She chatted because Bridget was usually there with them and he, annoyingly, ignored her cagey responses and acted as though everything was perfectly fine between them. He cheerfully indulged his mother’s obvious delight in the situation and, although neither of them had mentioned the marriage proposal, they both knew that Bridget was contemplating that outcome with barely contained glee.
