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“Miss Monroe?”
“Yes?”
“Front desk. There’s a visitor here for you by the name of Mr Xenakis.”
Mila blinked her eyes open, looking around the room with complete disorientation. Leo was here? Where? She sat up, pushing her hair from her eyes.
“Miss Monroe? Shall I send him up?”
“No.” The answer was instinctive, wrenched from the depths of her soul, but she squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head a little. “I mean, yes, but give me five minutes, please.”
“Very well, ma’am.”
The phone line went dead. Mila pushed out of bed and looked around the spacious room, squinting a little at the sun coming through the window. She checked the time. Surprisingly, given how badly she’d been sleeping lately, it was after nine. She never slept in. The competition, the late night, the emotion leading up to it, had obviously all conspired to knock her out, when she had finally fallen asleep.
She showered quickly, pulling on a pair of yoga pants and oversized shirt, then brushing her hair until it shone, dragging it over one shoulder, and moving towards the door. Right on time, the buzzer rang.
With a heart that wouldn’t stop pounding, she dragged it inwards and simply stood there, staring. She hadn’t forgotten what he looked like, but the impact of him here, like this, took her breath away. She looked at him as a starving man would food, her stomach churning, mouth dry, eyes heavy.
“Leo.” His name was a torment on her lips; how she ached for him!
“Mila.” He shook something in his hand and she looked down. Flowers. An enormous bunch of sweet peas, her favourites. “These are for you.”
She frowned, staring at them, as though she’d never seen a bouquet before, when in fact, her room was littered with them, all the arrangements that had been delivered while she was at the stadium the night before. But they were lilies and hothouse roses, nothing so wild and uncontained as these beautiful, fragrant sweet peas.
“They’re lovely.”
“I brought them from Port Mezi.”
Immediately, she remembered the place. The beauty, the sunshine, the family. She swallowed, looking over her shoulder. It would be so easy to invite him in, but she was still hurting from their last encounter, from his rejection, from her love. She moved further into the opening created by the door, forming a physical blockade. “Why are you here?”
“Straight to it?”
“Sure, why not?”
He nodded slowly, opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I thought I knew what I wanted to say to you. I thought I had it all worked out. But standing here now, words fail me.”
She had felt hope many times during their time together; she refused to feel it now. “Well, why don’t you text me when you’ve worked it out?” She muttered, gripping the door more tightly. “Goodbye.”
“Wait.” He pressed his foot into the doorframe, making it impossible for her to close it. She didn’t try to anyway, just to put some more space between them. “Give me five minutes. Please.”
She closed her eyes, wanting to say no, to tell him to go to hell, but for some inexplicable reason, she found herself pursing her lips then nodding. “Fine. But that’s it. Five minutes.”
“Okay,” he nodded, his expression showing relief.
She lead him into the sitting area of the room but drew the line at offering a drink. “So?”
He stared at her, his eyes raking her face slowly and with burning intensity, before moving lower, slipping down her body, then back to her face again. Heat burst through her; she refused to acknowledge it, maintaining a cool expression even when she felt aflame.
“You were incredible last night.”
She dipped her head, hiding the flush of pleasure that darkened her cheeks. Many people had told her so, and she knew it in her heart, but hearing it from this man did something strange to her. She kept her eyes focused on the floor between them while waiting for her breath to level out.
“I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I wasn’t aware you were planning to come and watch.”
“Nor was I.”
