Matched to a Billionaire(37)

       

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Dannie slid to the ground, the wood of her door biting into her back,   and muffled a sob against the heel of her hand. Pomegranates.

Why did this have to be so hard?

Her mother was right: love was the stupidest thing of all to base a   marriage on. It hurt too much. All Leo had to do was say, "I brought you   a gift because I love you."

If his inability to do so wasn't bad enough, she had the awful feeling   that the basket was indeed symbolic of his inner turmoil. Only supreme   will suppressed her desire to knuckle under.

He'd tried. He really had. It just wasn't good enough, not anymore. Once   upon a time, she'd believed they were a good match because they both   valued security. It was how they went about achieving it where they   differed.

Leo was an intense, focused man who cut himself off from people not   because he didn't want to invest emotionally, but as some kind of   compensation for what he viewed as a shortcoming of his personality. She   couldn't spend a lifetime pretending it was okay that he refused to   dive headlong into the game. She'd already compromised to the point of   pain.

His mother had warned her how challenging Leo would be to love. Dannie should get a medal. So should Leo's mother.

Sleep did not come easily. She glanced at the time, convinced she'd been   lying there for an hour but in reality, only four minutes had passed   since the last clock check. She gave up at quarter past two and flipped   on the TV to watch a fascinating documentary about the Civil War.

Her favorite historical time period unfolded on the screen. Women in   lush hoopskirts danced a quadrille in the Old South before everything   fell apart at the hands of General Sherman cutting a swath through   Georgia on his way to the sea.

Dannie's heart felt as if it had taken a few rounds from a Yankee musket, too.

But where Scarlett O'Hara had raised a fist to the sky and vowed to persevere, Dannie felt like giving up.

A divorce would be easier. She could take care of her mother, live with   Elise and try to forget about the man she'd married who refused to get   out from behind the scenes.

But she'd taken vows. Her stomach ached at the thought of going back on   her word. Her heart ached over the idea of staying. Which was worse?

All she knew was that she couldn't do this anymore.

In the morning, she took a bleary-eyed shower and spent the day at   Elise's working with Juliet. They were both subdued and honestly, Dannie   didn't see the point in giving Juliet a makeover when the woman was   already beautiful. Besides, it wasn't as though a manicure and hot   rollers would give Juliet what she most desired.

Or would it?

"What if your match is someone you can't fall in love with? Would you   still marry him?" Dannie asked Juliet as she showed her how to pin the   hot roller in place against her scalp. Some people didn't care about   love. Some people found happiness and fulfillment in their own pursuits   instead of through their husbands.

But Dannie wasn't some people, and she'd lied to herself about which   side of the fence she was on, embracing her mother's philosophy as if it   were her own.

Juliet made a face. "I would marry a warthog if he had the means to keep   me in America. Arranged marriages are common in Europe. You learn to   coexist."

"But is it worth it to become someone else in order to have that means?"

The other woman shot her puzzled glance in the mirror. "I'm still me.   With fingernails." She stuck out a hand, where a nail technician had   created works of art with acrylic extensions.

Dannie glanced at her own reflection in the mirror. She'd been polished   for so long, it was no longer a shock to see the elegant, sophisticated   Mrs. Reynolds in the glass instead of Dannie White. Except they were  one  and the same, with a dash of Scarlett.

Elise had done the makeover first, but the computer had matched her to   Leo because she was perfect for him. As she was. Not because Elise had   infused Dannie with some special magic and transformed her into someone   Leo would like.

I'm still me, too, but better.

Leo provided the foundation for her to excel as his wife and let her be   as brazen, outspoken and blunt as she wanted. He was okay with Dannie   being herself.

Their personalities were the match. She'd heard it over and over but today, it clicked.

She'd been so focused on whether Leo would kick her out if she screwed   up it had blinded her to the real problem. They both had come into this   marriage seeking security, but struggled with what they said they  wanted  versus what they'd actually gotten. And they were both trying to   balance aspects of their incredibly strong personalities for no  reason.                       
       
           



       

They wanted the same thing deep in their hearts-the security of an unending bond so strong it could never be broken.

The open-heart lavaliere around her neck caught the light as she leaned   over Juliet's shoulder to arrange her hair. Elise had given Dannie the   necklace when she'd agreed to marry Leo, as a gift between friends,   she'd assumed.

Now she saw it as a reminder that marriage required exactly that-two open hearts.

Had she been too harsh with Leo about the pomegranates? Maybe she should   find a way to coexist that didn't involve such absolutes. Security was   enough for Juliet. A fulfilling partnership had been enough for Dannie   once.

She'd pushed intimacy in an attempt to fulfill Leo's unvoiced needs and   ignored the need he'd actually voiced-a wife he could depend on, who   would stick with him, no matter what. Even through the pain of a   one-sided grand, sweeping love affair.

One thing was for sure. Real life wasn't a fairy tale, but Dannie wanted   her happily ever after anyway. Cinderella might have had some help  from  her fairy godmother, but in the end, she'd walked into that ball  with  only her brain and a strong drive to make her life better. What  was a  fairy tale but a story of perseverance, courage and choices?

It was time to be the wife Leo said he needed, not the one she assumed he needed.

Leo's car was in the garage when Dannie got home. She eyed it warily and   glanced at her watch. It was three o'clock on a Tuesday. Someone had   died. Someone had to have died.

Dannie dashed into the house, a lump in her throat as she triple checked   her phone. She'd have a call if it was her mother. Wouldn't she?

"Leo!" Her shout echoed in the foyer but he didn't answer.

The study was empty. Her stomach flipped. Now she was really scared.

Neither was he in the pool, the kitchen, the media room, the servants'   quarters around the back side of the garage or the workout room over the   garage.

Dannie tore off two nails in her haste to turn the knob on his bedroom   door, the last threshold she should ever cross, but he could be lying a   pool of his own blood and need help.

Curtains blocked the outside sunlight and the room was dark but for the   lone lamp on Leo's dresser. It shone down on him. He sat on the carpet,   hunched over a long piece of paper resting on a length of cardboard.   Clawlike, he gripped a pencil in his hand, stroking it over the paper   swiftly.

"Leo?" She paused just inside the door frame. "Are you okay?"

He glanced up. The light threw his ravaged face into relief, shadowing   half of it. "I don't know when to stop. I tried to tell you."

"Tell me what? What are you talking about? What do you need to stop?"

"Drawing." He flipped a limp hand toward the room at large and that's   when she realized white papers covered nearly every surface.

"How long have you been in here?" There were hundreds of drawings,   slashes and fine lines filling the pages with a mess of shapes she   couldn't make out in the semidark. Hundreds. Apparently she'd massively   misconstrued what he meant by not doing things halfway.

"Since the pomegranates." His voice trembled with what had to be fatigue. He'd been holed up in here since last night?

"But your car was gone this morning."

"Needed a pencil sharpener. Is it enough? Look at the pictures, Daniella. Tell me if it's enough."

Her heart fluttered into her throat. "You want me to see your drawings?"

In response, he gathered a handful and clambered to his feet to bring   them to her. The half light glinted off the short stubble lining his jaw   and dark hair swept his collar. Not only had he skipped the haircut   she'd scheduled, but he'd obviously not shaved in several days. His   shirt was untucked and unbuttoned and this undone version of Leo had a   devastating, intense edge.

As if presenting a broken baby bird, he gingerly handed off the drawings and waited silently.