"Jeez, Leo. Calm down. She's just a woman."
"And you're just a friend." When Dax glanced up, surprise evident, Leo skewered him with a glare that couldn't possibly be misinterpreted. "Things change. Get over it."
Slowly, Dax rose to his feet. Eye to eye, they faced off and Leo didn't like the glint flashing in his friend's gaze as Dax gave Leo's stiff carriage a once-over.
"I can't believe you'd let a chick come between us. Especially not one you found through a matchmaker." Dax nearly spat the word. "Let the deal with Mastermind expire. When you come back from la-la land and realize you've lost your edge over an admittedly nice pair of boobs, I'll be around to help you pick up the pieces. We've been friends too long."
Dax stepped back and Leo let him, though his fingers were still curled into a nice, fat fist that ached to rearrange that pretty-boy face. "I agree. It's best not to go into business together right now."
"Go home to your wife," Dax called over his shoulder as he gathered his bag, phone and travel coffee mug. "I hope she's good enough in bed to help you forget how much money we just lost."
He strode out the door of Leo's conference room without a backward glance.
Sinking into the nearest chair, Leo stared out the window at the green argon lights lining the Bank of America Plaza skyscraper. Since the building housed the headquarters of Dax's far-flung media empire, the familiar outline drove the barb further into Leo's gut.
Yeah, they'd lost a lot of money. And a friendship.
He didn't imagine for a second this rift would be easily repaired. Not because of the sense of betrayal Leo felt, and not because Dax had said reprehensible things about Leo's wife.
But because Dax was right. Leo had changed since marrying Daniella. No longer could he stomach being that guy Dax described, who treated women horribly but rationalized it away and bought them shiny presents to make up for it. Or that guy who wasn't bothered by introducing an ex-girlfriend to Dax because she hadn't meant anything to him.
Dax didn't see a problem with either. Leo couldn't continue to be friends with someone who held such a low opinion of women. Why hadn't he seen that long before now? And what would it take to get Dax to recognize the problem? Maybe Dax should visit a matchmaker himself. If Elise could find the perfect woman for Leo, she could do it for anyone.
Losing the friendship hurt. Letting the deadline expire for their proposal to Mastermind Media hurt worse. In his entire professional career, he'd never willfully given up. And one thing hadn't changed, would never change-Leo also didn't want to be that guy who lost deals or worse, lost his edge. For any reason. Let alone over a woman who drove him to distraction.
He'd lost John Hu. Now this deal. Was Tommy Garrett next?
He refused to allow that to happen. Daniella's invisible, ill-defined hold on him had to end. Immediately. He'd tried ignoring her. He'd tried sleeping at the office. He'd even tried going in the opposite direction and allowing himself small tastes of her. None of that had worked to exorcise his wife from his consciousness.
So he'd have to try the only thing left. He was going to spend the weekend in bed with Daniella in full-on immersion. By Monday, she would be out of his system and he'd have his focus back. He could share a house with her at night and forget about her during the day, like he'd planned all along.
It had to work. He'd toiled so hard to build a secure company and he owed it to everyone to maintain it. Especially Daniella. He'd vowed to care for her and he'd scrub floors at a state prison before he'd allow his wife to live next door to a meth lab like his own father had.
Ten
The book Dannie was reading held her interest about as well as the last one. Which was to say not at all. She'd parked on the settee to wait in hopes that Leo might come home soon, but it was already almost ten o'clock.
One more page. The story had to get better at some point. If it didn't, she'd get ready for bed. Leo's alarm went off before dawn and she was still adjusting to his routine.
The atmosphere shifted and she glanced up from her e-reader. Leo stood in the open doorway, one hand on the frame and the other clutching a bouquet of red roses. And he was watching her with undisguised, delicious hunger.
Heat erupted at her center and radiated outward, flushing her whole body. The e-reader fell to the carpet with a thunk, released by her suddenly nerveless fingers.
"Roses? For me?" Her voice trembled, and he didn't miss it. Her temperature rose as his expression darkened.
"In a manner of speaking." Striding to the settee, he held out his free hand and when she took it, he pulled her to her feet. His torso brushed hers and her nipp**les hardened. "Follow me."
Anywhere.
Mystified, she trailed him into the bathroom, where he flicked on the lights to one-quarter brightness and began filling the bathtub. Over his shoulder, he called, "It probably hasn't escaped your notice that I work a lot. I have very little opportunity to indulge in simple pleasures. So I'm correcting that oversight right now. I have this fantasy involving you, me and rose petals. This time of night, I had to buy them still attached."
He gathered the petals in one hand and wrenched them from the stalks, then released them into the water.
As the red circles floated down to rest on the surface, her heart tumbled along with them. "You have fantasies about me?"
The look on his face shot her temperature up another four thousand notches.
"Constantly."
"What am I doing in these fantasies?" she asked, her tongue nearly tripping over the words.
"Driving me pomegranates, mostly." He grinned and it was so un-Leo-like she did a double take. "By the way, I'm taking the weekend off. If you don't have other plans, I'd like to spend it with you. Maybe we could consider it a delayed honeymoon."
Honeymoon? Weekend off? She jammed her hands down on her hips and stared at him. "Who are you and what have you done with Leonardo Reynolds?"
His expression turned sheepish and he shrugged. "Let's say I had a revelation. We're married. I have to do things differently than I've done in the past. I want to do things differently," he stressed. "For you. Because you deserve it. You're a great wife."
A hard, painful lump slammed into her throat. He wanted to spend time with her. Romance her, as she'd asked. The roses were reciprocation-one great husband, coming up.
Little stabs at the corners of her eyes warned of an imminent deluge. What was he trying to do to her? She'd just become good and convinced their marriage was enough as it was. Now this.
I will not cry. I will not cry.
"You ain't seen nothing yet."
"Yeah?" He twisted the faucet handle and shut off the water. "You've been holding out on me?"
"Maybe. Talk to me about these fantasies." A good, strong dose of Leo's potent masculinity-that was what she needed to keep the emotion where it belonged. Inside. At least until she figured out where all this was coming from. Her husband had done so many about-faces she couldn't help but be slightly wary. "Have you really had a lot about me? Like what?"
"Oh, I've been so remiss, haven't I?" He tsked and sat on the edge of the garden tub, feet on the lowest step leading up to the rim. "Come here."
Her toes curled against the cold travertine as she approached and then she forgot all about a small thing like bare feet as Leo drew her between his split legs, his gaze heavy lidded with sensuous promise.
"I've been a very bad husband," he told her. "You clearly have no idea how wickedly sexy I find you. Let's correct that oversight, too, while we're at it."
Her insides disintegrated and she had no idea how she was still standing with no bones.
Slowly, he loosened each button on her blouse, widening the vee over her bra until he'd bared it entirely. The shirt slipped from her shoulders and Leo reeled in the fabric, pulling her forward.
"My fantasies are no match for the real thing." His open mouth settled onto the curve of her breast where the edge of her bra met skin. His tongue darted inside, circling her nipple. Pure, unaltered desire flared from her center, engulfing her senses.