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Her lungs inflated while she listened to his spiel and watched the screen flip up properties that only someone wealthy could have afforded to rent. Her hands curled into fists and her soft mouth flattened over grinding teeth long before he reached the end of his running commentary and turned the laptop over to her for further perusal. It was the last straw. Grace sprang up and settled the laptop squarely back down on the coffee table. ‘Thanks but no, thanks,’ she said curtly.
Leo leapt up, his shirt flying back from his corrugated abdomen, his unsnapped waistband giving her a glimpse of the little black furrow of silky hair that arrowed down to his crotch. As she remembered how intimate she had been with him the night before the bottom seemed to fall out of her stomach and she felt positively ill with mortification.
‘What the hell is that supposed to mean? That’s my baby you’re carrying and from now on until the finish line you’re both my responsibility!’ Leo shot back at her impatiently.
‘No, I’m my own responsibility and I don’t need a domineering, controlling man telling me what to do!’ Grace flared instantly back at him, light green eyes glittering with the blistering anger she had been holding back. ‘I understand that you want to stand by me to show me that you’re a good guy but you’re handing out very mixed messages and I prefer to know exactly where I stand.’
One look at her and Leo wanted her so badly at that moment that he physically hurt. Her passion called out to him on the deepest level of his psyche even though he had deliberately avoided that kind of passion all his life. She was having an emotional meltdown and that was all right, only to be expected, he told himself soothingly. ‘If you were to stay with me, we’d end up in bed again and that’s not a good idea when you don’t yet know what your plans are.’
‘I am not going to end up in bed with you again. I am never going to go to bed with you again!’ Grace swore vehemently.
Far from comforted by that news, Leo groaned. ‘Grace, you’re a nice girl and I don’t get involved with nice girls. I don’t do love and romance. I can’t be what you want if you want more.’
‘I’m not going to be some kept woman in some house you own either, living off you like a leech because we had a stupid contraceptive accident!’ Grace raked back at him furiously, infuriated to be called a ‘nice girl’ because that tag only suggested dreary, conservative and needy to her. In addition, although she refused to allow herself to dwell on her sense of rejection, she was horribly crushed by his cool, cynical disclaimer of any deeper feelings where she was concerned. ‘I may be poor but I have my pride. You’re interfering in my life far too much, Leo.’
Leo shocked himself by wanting to shout back at her. He wanted her to do what he told her to do, which was, after all, what ninety-nine per cent of the people in his life invariably did. Consequently, he very rarely, if ever, raised his voice. He was proud of his self-control but then he had always avoided emotional scenes, swiftly ditching women who specialised in them. Of course he had been raised by the ultimate of scene-throwers: his mother, whom he recalled staging dramatic walkouts, outrageous suicide threats and sobbing herself into hysterics.
‘You have to have peace and quiet to continue your studies and decide what to do next. I’m trying not to interfere with that. If you weren’t pregnant, you wouldn’t be in this situation now. I only want what’s best for you and the baby.’
‘And the easiest thing for you to give is money,’ Grace completed with reluctant comprehension, her troubled green eyes scanning the opulence of the furnishings and a view of the City of London that had to be next door to priceless. ‘Isn’t it?’
His lean, darkly handsome face tensed. ‘Yes, so will you view the property you like the best? I’ll have you moved in by the weekend. I think we should have dinner tonight and talk future options.’
‘No, I have a student thing to attend,’ Grace lied, freshly determined to dull her intense attraction to Leo by seeing less of him.
‘Tomorrow night, then.’
‘No, sorry.’
