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She was already asleep again.
CHAPTER FIVE
CRISTIANOMADEANeffort over the next week to keep an eye on Leonie in an unobtrusive way, stopping by wherever she was working to exchange a few words with her. Sometimes it was just that—a few words—and sometimes it was more of a conversation.
And slowly she began to relax around him. She no longer tensed when he appeared, and during the last two visits, she hadn’t even scowled.
He counted it a victory.
Of course the real victory had been that night in his study, when she’d finally given him her name.
Reaching out to grab her wrist had been a gamble, but she’d had to learn that he meant business and that he had his limits. He wasn’t a man to be toyed with. Besides, he hadn’t been asking for much—just her name.
She’d seemed to understand and the gamble had paid off. She hadn’t given him anything else, but he hadn’t pushed. He knew when to insist and when to back off. She’d eventually give him what he wanted—he was sure of it.
He’d been even more sure when he’d finished his phone call and turned around to find that she’d fallen asleep in her chair. He hadn’t wanted to wake her, since the shadows under her eyes had been pronounced, but nor had he wanted to leave her sleeping in an uncomfortable position. So, compelled by an instinct he hadn’t felt in years, he’d gathered her into his arms and carried her up to her room.
Another gamble, considering how hyper-vigilant she was. But she hadn’t woken. Or at least she hadn’t panicked. Her lovely red-gold eyelashes had fluttered and her muscles had tensed, and then, just as quickly, she’d relaxed against him. As if she’d decided she was safe.
A mistake on her part, because he wasn’t safe—not in any way—but he’d liked the way she’d felt in his arms. Liked the way she’d relaxed against him as if she didn’t need to fear him. Liked it too much, truth be told.
Anna had never nestled sleepily in his arms. She’d never been comfortable with his displays of affection. But he was a deeply physical man and that was how he expressed it. She had also known his darkest secret, known the damage he was capable of, and although she’d never said it outright he knew she’d always judged him for it.
He’d tried to contain himself for her, change himself for her, but it hadn’t been enough in the end. Victor de Riero had offered her what Cristiano hadn’t been able to, and so she’d left him.
But it was dangerous to think of Anna, so he’d shoved his memories of her away and ignored the way Leonie had felt in his arms.
Leonie hadn’t mentioned it the next day when he’d stopped by the room where she was dusting, so he hadn’t mentioned it, either, merely giving her a greeting and then going on his way.
Which was what he’d done the next couple of days, too, only stopping for longer on the subsequent days after that. And the day before, not only had he not had a scowl, but he thought he might have had a smile. Or at least the beginnings of one.
It was very definitely a start.
But he needed to do more.
He wasn’t normally an impatient man, since he never wanted anything enough to get impatient about it, but the thought of revenge had definitely put him in an impatient mood. He needed to gain her trust and then either get her to tell him who she was or reveal that he already knew in a way that wouldn’t frighten her off.
After that, he had to ascertain her feelings about her father and find out whether she’d agree to let him widen her job description, as it were. In return for a sizeable bonus, naturally.
It was a good plan, and one he was sure would work, but it would require a certain delicacy. So far he’d done well, but more needed to be accomplished—and faster.
It was a pity trust wasn’t one of those things that could be compelled.
He was reflecting on that as he arrived back home late one night the following week. He’d come from a party that had started out as tedious, only to descend into unpleasant when he’d heard Victor de Riero’s name being bandied about in a business discussion.
Normally that wouldn’t have caused him any concern. He’d detached himself so completely from what had happened fifteen years ago that he could even have attended the same party as the man and not felt a thing.
Yet tonight even the sound of that name had set his anger burning so fiercely that some disconnected part of him had been amazed at the intensity of his emotions when for so long he’d felt nothing. It had been disturbing, and it had made him even more certain that he must move his revenge plan on faster—because the quicker he dealt with it, the easier it would be to put out the fire of his anger once and for all.
He’d left the party early, full of that intense directionless anger, and was still in a foul temper now, as he arrived home. He’d been intending to sit in the library alone, with a very good Scotch, so his mood was not improved when he found that the library was already occupied by Leonie, kneeling on the floor in front of the bookshelves once again.
She was still in her uniform, and there were cleaning implements next to her, even though it was nearly midnight and she should be in bed, asleep. Something jolted in his chest at the sight of that familiar red-gold skein hanging down on her back.
He remembered carrying her to bed that night—how that hair had brushed against his forearm and then drifted over the backs of his hands as he’d bent over to lay her down on the mattress. It had felt very silky, and the urge to touch it, to sift his fingers through it, had gripped him once again. She’d felt light in his arms, but very soft and warm and feminine, and she’d smelled subtly of the rose-scented soap her bathroom had been stocked with.
He’d been very good at not paying attention to his physical reactions around her. Very good at not thinking about that moment of chemistry in his study that night when he’d put his fingers around her wrist, touched her soft skin. And it had been soft, her pulse frantic beneath his fingertips.
It hadn’t been a problem before. He was always in complete control of himself, even when it looked to the rest of the world as if he wasn’t. Yet right now, looking at her kneeling there, that control seemed suddenly very tenuous.
