Secrets of the Playboy's Bride(15)

Her eyes wrinkled in concern. "I'm sorry."

"I don't remember anything about it or anything before then."

"Oh," she said, a stunned expression on her face.

He could see the sympathy coming and was determined to stop it. "That was all before the egg," he said.

She didn't smile in return. In fact, she frowned. "Do you know how old you were?"

"Around eight," he said. "It doesn't matter."

"How can you say that? Don't you think it had an impact upon you?" she asked.

There'd been years when he'd fantasized about the family he must have  had before the accident. Before Lilah and Clyde had rescued him. He knew  his family had died in the crash, but he hadn't known how many  siblings, if any, he'd had. He didn't know what his mother and father  were like, if they'd treated him well. Now that he was grown, he  suspected he'd been treated better by his real parents. How could he not  have been?

"I don't focus on the past," he said. "I focus on the future."

"You don't think you can learn important things from your past," she said.

"I've learned everything I need to learn from my past. I don't dwell on  what happened when I was child because if I did, I'd go crazy." He  paused a half beat, refusing to give into the secret need for  information about so many unanswered questions about himself. It was a  fruitless endeavor. "We're flying out tonight. I've arranged for your  guide to take you souvenir shopping one more time while I wrap up my  last meeting with Mr. Kihoto. In the meantime, don't forget the trip to  India in a few weeks. Have you cleared it with your boss?"

"I thought I would finish this trip before I start asking about  another," she said, irritation leaking into her expression. "Are you  sure it's necessary for me-"                       
       
           



       

"Absolutely sure," he said, standing. He was much more comfortable with her irritation than the sympathy he'd glimpsed.

She followed him to his feet, her irritation turning to anger. "And what if I can't?"

"If you can't find a way, then I'll help you," he said.

"That sounds like a threat," she said.

"No. It's a promise of assistance. Don't argue about this anymore," he said and headed for the bathroom.

"If you think you've married a submissive little Stepford wife, you are very mistaken."

He paused, thinking about her words. He turned to face her. "I never  received any indication that you were submissive. I just understood that  you were a reasonable adult willing to make the adjustments necessary  in our marriage."

"And what adjustments will you be making?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Whatever adjustments I make, they won't include continuing petty  debates like this." He entered the bath and closed the door behind him,  but not before he heard her make a sound of utter frustration.





Leo avoided her after that. It was amazing how much space the man could  create around himself even in his personal jet. After they landed and  returned to his condo, they might as well have been separated by a small  city. Fine, she thought. She didn't mind. Every hour that passed when  she didn't have to deal with Mr. Demanding was one less hour on her  six-month time clock. His remoteness didn't bother her for at least two  days. She had plenty of work to do. She visited her sisters and cousin  and delivered the souvenirs from Japan and avoided her cousin's  questions about her marriage.The more she thought about what Leo had  told her about the accident he'd had as a child, the more curious she  because. On her return drive from visiting her sisters, she dialed the  number for her P.I.

"Rob here. How you doing, Mrs. Grant?"

Calista made a face. "I haven't technically changed my name."

"Like that matters," he said. "Congratulations on bagging the big one."

She ignored his sarcasm. Rob had once wanted to date her. They'd become  friends instead and he'd given her a cost break when she'd asked him to  investigate the man who'd caused her father to go over the edge. "I  learned something recently that has made me curious."

"What's that?" he asked.

"Leo was apparently in a terrible accident when he was about eight years  old. He remembers nothing before that. Nothing about the accident."

"I stopped my investigation once I found out he was involved in the grifting scheme with your father," he said.

"Well, there's something about his childhood that bothers me. He won't talk about it."

"Probably because plenty of people would like to skin his late father and him," Rob said.

"Maybe," she said and mused about his response to her. "I probably shouldn't ask you to do any more digging."

"On your beloved husband," Rob said sarcastically.

"Okay. I get it. You don't want to help me. Can you at least point me in  the direction I need to look if I want to get more information about  his childhood?"

Rob laughed hysterically.

Calista frowned. "You don't have to be nasty about it," she said. "It's not like I'm asking for state secrets."

"I'll do it," he said. "You owe me drinks," he added and hung up.

"I can't take you for-" She broke off when she realized he was no longer  on the line. Sighing in frustration as she approached Leo's condo, she  slipped her key into the parking lot entry and tried to rein in her  feelings. Her call to Rob had been impulsive and she shouldn't have made  it. If Leo wasn't interested in his childhood, she shouldn't be either.  Rob probably wouldn't find anything anyway.





Six



Calista's BlackBerry went off as she took her lunch in her office. Join  Mr. Grant at 6:30 p.m. tonight for Philadelphia Business Owners dinner.  Dress: business casual. Car will pick you at 6:00 p.m. at the downtown  condo. Thursday night, George Crandall Museum for awarding of the LG  Enterprises Scholarship Funds and Friday night Grand Celebration of the  Arts on the Delaware River. More details to come. S. Miles, assistant to  Leo Grant.

Calista stared at the text message from her husband's assistant. She  shook her head. This wasn't even an invitation. It was a list of  required appearances. From his freakin' assistant.Her temperature rose  with each passing second. She could barely contain her anger. Who did he  think he was? Obviously, Mr. Important Leo Grant. Another text popped  up and she strongly considered erasing it before she read it, but gave  in to her curiosity.                       
       
           



       

Please confirm. S. Miles, assistant to Leo Grant.

She had two words for Mr. Miles and Mr. Grant and they were not Merry  Christmas. Calista was so furious it was all she could do not to start  screaming. Instead, she counted to ten. Twenty times.

She took a deep breath. First step, ignore the order. Second step, block  Leo's assistant's number. Step three, work late and plan a long visit  to the gym afterward.





Leo left the dinner early, wondering why Calista hadn't shown. In the  back of his Town Car, he dialed her number, but his call went straight  to voice mail. Irritation twisted through him. He wouldn't even have  attended it, but the chairman of the organization had begged him. Little  had he known he would be presented with an award for bringing new jobs  to Philadelphia. The attention made him self-conscious. He was always  wary of having his picture taken, especially if it might be put in the  media. Even though he looked far different now from what he did as a  young teenager, he always got a chill wondering if someone might  recognize him.He dialed her number again, but again it went to voice  mail. Concern cut through him. He wondered if she was okay. It wasn't  like Calista to turn off her phone. He was torn between an odd  combination of missing his wife and not wanting her to ask questions  about his childhood ever again. The conversation they'd shared that  morning in Japan had opened old wounds he'd sworn to never revisit.  There had been a time when he'd gone so far as to hire a private  investigator to find out his past, but there'd been nothing except dead  ends. Leo wasn't sure who his real parents or real family were and he'd  had to face the fact that he never would. He hadn't wanted to claim  Clyde as his father and was thankful he wasn't Clyde's son by blood.

"You're quiet tonight, Leo," George said from the front seat. "What's on your mind?"

"Regular stuff. I had nonstop international phone calls and meetings today. Barely had time to breathe," Leo said.

"Haven't seen your wife lately," George ventured, digging.

"We've both been busy since we got back from Japan," Leo said. "I have  my work. She has hers, although I don't see why she continues. God  knows, she won't need the money."