No more digressions. It was too dangerous to kiss her. Or think about her as a friend.
Daniella was back in the employee box. She had to stay there.
How in the world was he going to forget what those strawberry-scented lips could do?
Five
Leo was already gone by the time Dannie emerged from her bedroom the next morning. Even though she'd set an alarm, he still beat her.
She'd screwed up at the alumni gala. Leo had been kissing her-oh, my God, had he been kissing her-and then he hit the brakes. Of course work came first, and the woman behind the man should never forget that. But to pretend that kiss hadn't happened? It was impossible. She wasn't naive enough to believe she'd break through his shell in one evening, but she thought she'd lifted it a little at least.
At home, his obsession with work shouldn't be a factor, especially before he left for the office. Tomorrow morning, she'd shove the alarm back thirty minutes. If she beat him to the kitchen, they'd have a chance to talk and maybe share a laugh. Then think about each other fondly over the course of the day.
All good elements of both friendship and marriage.
The next morning she missed him again, and continued to miss him for a week.
Four declined event appointments should have clued her in, but it wasn't until she caught the startled look on his face when he came out of his bedroom one morning that she realized he'd been avoiding her.
"Good morning." She smiled despite his wary expression and the fact that she'd been awake since five hoping to catch him.
"Morning." He nodded and brushed past without another word.
Stung, she watched him retreat down the stairs and vowed not to think about Leo Reynolds the rest of the day. She had a job to do here.
Dannie spent an hour with the staff going over weekly household accounts, then interviewed a prospective maid to replace one who had given notice. She enjoyed organizing Leo's life. At the alumni gala, she'd navigated Leo's social circles, recovered from a humiliating dress fail and smiled through dinner with her husband's ex-girlfriend.
What more could Leo possibly want in a wife?
At four o'clock, Leo texted her with a short message she'd come to expect: I'll be home late. Make dinner plans on your own.
As she'd been doing for a week. Leo clearly planned to keep her at arm's length, despite that kiss.
Fuming, she called her mother and invited her over for dinner. Might as well take advantage of the cook Leo kept on staff. She and her mother ate prime rib and lobster bisque, both wonderfully prepared, but neither could keep her attention. Her mother raved about the food, about Dannie's marriage, about how much she liked her new nurse. Dannie smiled but nothing penetrated the cloud of frustration cloaking what should have been a nice evening with her mom.
As far back as Dannie could remember, her mother had constantly passed on relationship advice: Men don't stick around. Don't listen to their pretty words and promises. And variations aplenty espousing the evils of falling in love. The whole point of this arranged marriage was so Dannie wouldn't end up alone and miserable like her mother. And despite her mother's best attempts to squash Dannie's romanticism, it was still there, buried underneath reality.
All men couldn't be like her father. Leo didn't flatter her with slick charm, and he'd been nothing but honest with her.
Furthermore, her husband had kissed her passionately, madly, more completely than Dannie had ever been kissed in her life. She couldn't pretend it hadn't happened or that she didn't want more than an occasional text message out of her marriage.
They'd never get past being virtual strangers at this rate. Maybe it was for the best, if Jenna's fate bore any credence to what might become Dannie's story. But she couldn't accept that she and Leo would never see each other. Surely they could spend a little time together. An hour. Thirty minutes.
How was she supposed to handle his social commitments and take care of his every need if he kept avoiding her?
After she saw her mother off in the chauffeured car that Dannie couldn't quite give up yet, she parked on the couch nearest the stairs, determined to wait for Leo until the cows came home, if necessary. They needed to talk.
An hour later, Dannie started to wonder if Leo intended to sleep at the office. He wouldn't. Would he? Had she screwed up so badly that he couldn't even stand to be in the same house with her?
She flung her head back on a cushion and stared at the ceiling. He certainly hadn't lied to her. He did work all the time and she had done nothing to find her own amusements. Because she didn't want to. She wanted to be Leo's wife in every sense of the word, or at least she thought she did, despite being given little opportunity to find out.
Another hour passed. This was ridiculous. Not only was he hindering her ability to take care of him, but he'd agreed they could be friends. How did he think friendship developed?
New tactics were in order. Before she could remind herself of all the reasons she shouldn't, she sent Leo a text message: I heard a noise. I think someone is in the house. Can you come home?
Immediately, he responded: Call the police and hit the intruder alarm.
She rolled her eyes and texted him back: I'm scared. I'd like you to come home.
Leo: Be there as soon as I can.
Bingo. She huffed out a relieved breath. It had been a gamble, but only a small one. Leo had a good heart, which wouldn't have allowed him to do anything else but come home to his wife.
Twenty minutes later, Leo pulled into the drive at the front of the house. Dannie flicked on the enormous carriage lights flanking the entrance arch, illuminating the wide porch, and met him on the steps.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his hard gaze sweeping the shadows behind her.
His frame bristled with tension, saying in no uncertain terms he'd protect her from any threat imaginable, and it pulled a long, liquid flash from her core that sizzled. An intruder wouldn't stand a chance against so much coiled intensity.
"I'm fine." In a manner of speaking.
Leo's dark suit looked as superb on him as a tuxedo did. More so, because he was at full alert inside it, his body all hard and masculine. Warrior Leo made her mouth water. She might have to fan herself.
"Did you call the police?" He ushered her inside quickly, one hand steady at her back.
"No. I didn't hear the noise again and I didn't want to waste anyone's time." Especially since the noise was entirely fictional. Hopefully, once she hashed things out with Leo, an excuse wouldn't be necessary to get his attention.
He shot off a series of questions and she answered until he was satisfied there was no imminent danger. "Next time, push the panic button. That's what the security alarm is for."
"Did I interrupt something important at work?"
Lines deepened around his eyes as his carriage relaxed and he smiled. "It's all important. But it's okay. It'll still be there in the morning."
Relaxed Leo was nice, too. So much more approachable. She returned his smile and tugged on his arm. "Then sit down for a minute. Tell me about your day."
He didn't budge from his statue impression in the foyer. "Not much to tell. Why don't you go on up to bed? I'll hang out downstairs and make sure there's really nothing to worry about."
Oh, no, you don't. "I'm not tired. You're here. I'm here. Come talk to me for a minute."
He hefted the messenger bag in his hand a little higher in emphasis with an apologetic shrug. "I have some work to finish up."
"That'll be there in the morning, too." Gently, she took the bag from him and laid it on the Hepplewhite table against the wall, a little surprised he'd let her. "We haven't talked since the alumni gala."
The mere mention of it laced the atmosphere with a heaviness that prickled her skin. Leo's gaze fell on hers and silence stretched between them. Was he remembering the kiss? Or was he still determined to forget about it? If so, she'd like to learn that trick.
"There's a reason for that," he finally said.
Her stomach tumbled at his frank admission that he'd been avoiding her. She nodded. "I suspected as much. That's why I want to talk."
His gaze swept over her face. "I thought you wanted me to tell you about my day."