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His consultant had told them that he shouldn’t be stressed because it might lead to a recurrence of his health problems...
And so Alessio had leapt in with a solution he thought would do the trick.
It was easy to figure out, and yet Sophie recoiled from that obvious conclusion—just couldn’t make sense of it.
Her heart was racing as she sat in dumbfounded silence. Thankfully, Leonard’s attention was riveted on Alessio. If he had glanced in her direction he might have been bemused by her stunned expression.
She surfaced to hear Alessio reassuring his father that he was a changed man. His hand returned to hold hers in a show of loving unity, and when he gently squeezed it she had no need to glance at his face to know what he was telling her...Go with me on this.
She would.
For Leonard’s sake...
But she could feel a low-level anger buzzing inside her, growing stronger with every passing second.
‘Trust me, Dad,’ Alessio murmured, reaching out to pat his father’s arm. ‘Sophie is different from all the women I’ve ever dated in the past, and I’m asking you to believe me when I tell you that what we have is nothing like anything I’ve had in my life before.’ Dark eyes slid across to Sophie’s face. ‘I’m a different man when I’m with her...’
‘And this turnaround has all happened in the space of a few days?’
Leonard’s attention had shifted to Sophie, who was horrified to be the cynosure of his attention.
He had eagle eyes, and he was as sharp as a tack when it came to ferreting out stuff she might prefer to keep to herself.
‘We...er...’ Sophie licked her lips and smiled weakly. ‘Er...well, you know how it is, Leonard,’ she mumbled. ‘It just sort of happened...’
She held her breath and waited for a barrage of disbelief. How could someone as switched-on as Leonard, who was so cynical about Alessio, do anything but scoff at the preposterous suggestion that in the space of a few days an inveterate womaniser had changed his spots?
Nothing came.
Sophie nervously looked at him and wondered how else she might expand without giving herself away. But she didn’t have to say a word, because he reached forward and covered her hand with his.
His eyes were watery. Was he about to cry because of the horror of the situation?
Sophie opened her mouth to say something,anything, but before she could get there he was telling her, softly, that he understood.
‘It was the same for me,’ he said whimsically. ‘One look at Isabella and she was the one. That mistake that happened afterwards...’ He looked at Alessio with a direct stare. ‘I was lonely and heartbroken and a fool, and I should have known better.’ He reached out and patted Alessio’s hand. ‘You’ve made me a very happy man, son.’
He began to heave himself to his feet.
Sophie was numb. She remained where she was as Alessio rushed to help his father. She watched, dimly aware of Leonard still talking as they headed out of the bedroom.
Talking about what?
She shuddered to think.
She would wait for Alessio and then find out what the heck happened next...
CHAPTER EIGHT
ALESSIOREAPPEAREDTWENTYminutes later, by which time Sophie had headed down to the kitchen, leaving in her wake a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow in the form of lights switched on, on the landing, down the grand staircase, and in the broad corridor that led to the kitchen.
Tense as a bowstring, eyes peeled on the door, she straightened when he pushed open the door and entered the room.
‘Clear path to follow to find you here,’ he said wryly, following her lead and making himself a cup of coffee. ‘All the lights on.’
‘What’s going on, Alessio?’ Sophie asked quietly.
She cradled her mug and watched as he took his time making the coffee, helplessly sucked in by his masculine beauty, the economic grace of his movements as he stirred his drink and returned the milk to the fridge, before swinging round to look at her.
