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. That’s why I didn’t even try and defend myself. I knew there was no point. The whole situation was completely damning.’
‘No.’ A muscle popped in Leo’s jaw. ‘Your father had to knock you about before I’d see the truth.’
Angel shook her head. ‘Leo, don’t, please. I brought this on myself.’
Leo was fierce. ‘Not like this, Angel, never like this. If I’d thought for a second that your father was capable of this …’ Waves of anger vibrated off Leo.
He touched Angel’s cheek and said huskily, ‘You must be exhausted.’
Angel nodded. ‘I am a little.’ But she thought of going to sleep, and all the images waiting to crowd her mind: her father’s mottled face, the way his hand had come out of nowhere and stunned her so badly that she’d blacked out for a minute, only to come to and see him rifling through the drawers of the study. Thankfully Calista had had the sense to be nearby, and had called the security guard up from the gate. He’d escorted Angel’s father from the villa, but not until Angel had insisted that his pockets be searched. Luckily he hadn’t found anything worth stealing.
‘But I don’t want to go to bed …’ Her voice was more fierce than she’d intended, and she saw Leo wince.
‘Angel, you must know that I wouldn’t expect—’
She covered her hand with his, inordinately touched. ‘No, I don’t mean that. I just mean I don’t really want to go to sleep—not just yet anyway. I don’t want to think about … what happened.’
Leo nodded. Within minutes Angel was sitting on a comfortable couch in the TV den, with a blanket over her, while Leo went to get some food from Calista. Then he was back and fussing over Angel like a mother hen, making her take some soup, because it would hurt too much for her to have to chew anything.
It felt as if the most delicate chain of silver stretched between them now, connecting them, and Angel clung onto it greedily.
Leo switched on the TV without asking any more questions, and seemed content to watch inane TV, sensing Angel’s need to get lost in something. She let the ribald movie wash over her like a balm, and relished Leo’s protective arm around her like a guilty secret.
Angel’s body had turned into a dead weight against Leo. He looked down at the glossy head that lay against his chest. The hand so trustingly curled against him. So many questions bubbled up inside him, so much recrimination, and underneath it all a fierce, primal anger. He could still see the livid swelling, and wanted to go and find Tito Kassianides and beat him to a pulp. Leo had to consciously calm himself. His heart-rate was already zooming skywards just when he thought of that man.
But, as if in league with his earlier thoughts, an insidious voice mocked him. What if this was all a set-up? What if this was part of a plan—a ruse to arouse his sympathy, his trust in Angel? Leo felt sick at the thought. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be. She’d been a virgin, for heaven’s sake. His body still thrilled with a deep-seated male satisfaction at knowing that he’d been her only lover.
Too much had fallen into place when Angel had explained everything earlier. Leo was disgusted with himself. Was he so jaded, so cynical after witnessing what he had as a child, that he’d believed someone would go to the lengths that Angel had in order to manipulate him?
Grimly, he knew he didn’t have to answer that question. Leo flicked off the TV and without disturbing Angel stood from the couch, lifting her into his arms. He took her up to his bed and, after settling her, took off his clothes and got in beside her, pulling her close.
Angel woke when the dawn was a faint light coming into the room from outside. She registered that she was in Leo’s bed, in her panties and T-shirt. She went hot. He must have taken off her tracksuit bottoms when she’d fallen asleep on him downstairs. She was on her side, and Leo was tucked around her, his arm a heavy weight over her waist, his hand close to cupping her breast. He was naked. Despite everything her blood stirred and her body started to hum.
She had a premonition of Leo waking to find that she was still in his bed, and went to move. She heard a deep growl. ‘Stay where you are.’
Angel stopped moving, but couldn’t pretend she could sleep again—not when she felt Leo’s body hardening and firming against hers, making her want to push her bottom against him in clear provocation. Her breathing had grown short and shallow. She lifted her head minutely, to ease a slight ache, and sucked in a breath when pain shot through her jaw, reminding her all too clearly of yesterday’s events.
Instantly Leo moved and hovered over Angel, his jaw dark with stubble. With a gentle hand he turned her face so he could see. His eyes and his low curse told her how bad it looked. It felt as if it had turned into the size of a football.
She winced. ‘Is it very bad?’
Leo quirked a wry smile. ‘It’s a glorious shade of blueish purple, and about as big as my fist.’ Then he got serious. ‘We’re going to the hospital today, Angel, I don’t care what you say.’
Angel knew better than to argue. She lay there and looked up at Leo, and felt her chest and heart swell. With the impenetrable wall of mistrust between them gone, she realized that she loved him. She really loved him. Without thinking, she reached up and traced the scar above his lip with a finger. ‘How did you get that?’
Leo caught her finger and kissed it. ‘I’d like to be able to say that I got it while defending a younger kid from being bullied.’
‘You didn’t?’
He shook his head mock-mournfully. ‘No, I got it when I fell off my training bike onto the sidewalk when I was three.’
Angel’s heart lurched, and she fell a little bit more in love. She would have smiled if it hadn’t hurt, but Leo was tucking himself around her again and saying, ‘Go back to sleep, Angel, you need it.’
Angel felt the waves of tiredness coming over her again and said sleepily, ‘Okay, but wake me up and I’ll go back to my own bed in a bit …’
Angel didn’t see the spasm of pain cross Leo’s face. Leo lay awake, staring into the dim morning light for a long time.
Two weeks later Angel looked at the finished set of jewellery for Ari and Lucy. She looked at it but didn’t really see it. Experimentally she moved her jaw and touched it gingerly. The swelling had gone down completely, and all that remained of the bruise was a faint yellowish tinge that could be covered by make-up.
