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‘I hadn’t realised that I was being cold,’ she said stiffly. Her eyes drifted to his strong forearms on the steering wheel. He had tossed his jacket in the back seat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. She couldn’t look even at that slither of bare skin, the sprinkling of dark hair on his arms, without her mind racing backwards in time to when they were lovers and those hands were exploring every inch of her body.
‘No, sometimes you’re not,’ he murmured in a low voice and Brianna looked at him narrowly.
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning that there are many times when your voice is cool but the glances you give me are anything but...’ He switched the radio on to soft classical music, leaving her to ponder that remark in silence. Did he expect her to say something in answer to that? And what could she say? She knew that he had an effect on her; she knew that she just couldn’t stop herself from sliding those sidelong glances at him, absorbing the way he moved, the curve of his mouth, the lazy dark eyes. Of course he would have noticed! What didn’t he notice?
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she only noticed that they had completely left London behind when fields, scattered villages and towns replaced the hard strip of the motorway, and then she turned to him with confusion.
‘We’re in the countryside.’ She frowned and then her breath caught in her throat as he glanced across to her with amusement.
‘Well spotted.’
‘It’s a bit far to go for a meal out.’ Perhaps he wanted to talk to her about something big, something important. Maybe he was going to tell her that he had listened to everything she had said and had come to the conclusion that he could survive with her returning to Ireland whilst he popped up occasionally to see his offspring. Perhaps he thought that a destination far away would be suitable for that kind of conversation, because it would allow her time to absorb it on the return trip back into London.
Had having her at close quarters reminded him of how little he wanted any kind of committed relationship? Had familiarity bred the proverbial contempt? For maybe the first time in his life, he had been tied to a routine of having to curtail his work life to accommodate both her and Bridget. Had he seen that as a dire warning of what might be expected should he pursue his intention of marrying her, and had it put him off?
The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that whatever he had to say over a charming pub dinner in the middle of nowhere would be...
Something she wouldn’t want to hear.
Yet she knew that that was the wrong reaction. She needed to be strong and determined in the road she wanted to follow. She didn’t want a half-baked marriage with a guy who felt himself trapped, for whom the only option looming was to saddle himself with her for the rest of his life. No way!
But her heart was beating fast and there was a ball of misery unfurling inside her with each passing signpost.
When the car turned off the deserted road, heading up a charming avenue bordered by trees not yet in leaf, she lay back and half-closed her eyes.
She opened them as they drew up outside one of the prettiest houses she had ever seen.
‘Where are we?’
‘This is what I wanted to show you.’ Leo could barely contain the satisfaction in his voice. He had been sold on first sight. On second sight, he was pleased to find that there was no let-down. It practically had her name written all over it.
‘You wanted to show me a house?’
‘Come on.’ He swung out of the car and circled round to hold her door open for her, resisting the urge to help her out, because she had already told him that she hadn’t suddenly morphed into a piece of delicate china simply because she was pregnant.
Brianna dawdled behind him as he strode towards the front door and stooped to recover a key which had been placed underneath one of the flower pots at the side of the front step. What the hell was going on? She took a deep breath and realised that, although they were only a matter of forty-five minutes out of West London, the air smelled different. Cleaner.
‘This isn’t just any house.’ He turned to look at her and was pleased at the expression on her face, which was one of rapt appreciation. ‘Bar the technicalities, I’ve bought this house.’
‘You’ve bought this house?’
‘Come in and tell me what you think.’
‘But...’
‘Shh...’ He placed a finger gently over her parted lips and the feel of his warm skin against hers made her tremble. ‘You can ask all the questions you want after you’ve had a look around.’
Despite the fact that he had only looked around the place once, Leo had no hesitation on acting as tour guide for the house, particularly pointing out all the quaint features he was certain she would find delightful. There was a real fire in both the sitting room and the snug, an Aga in the kitchen, bottle-green bedrooms that overlooked an orchard, which he hadn’t actually noticed on first viewing, but which he now felt qualified to show her with some pride. He watched as she dawdled in the rooms, staring out of the windows, touching the curtains and trailing her finger along the polished oak banister as they returned downstairs, ending up in the kitchen, which had a splendid view of the extensive back gardens.
