The Arrangement .(28)

“We need to talk about us,” Leonardo said.

Alexa sat up slowly, tucking the sheet under her arms. She ran her fingers over her rumpled hair. He had her undivided attention, and hope leapt in her chest. “What about us?”

“We can’t continue like this. Every time we fight, we end up in bed.”

Alexa cleared her throat. “And whose fault is that?”

“I would have to say both our faults, since you don’t give any indication you want me to stop. Unless I’ve misread the signs?”

He knew good and well he hadn’t misread the signs. She was an enthusiastic participant.

“No, you haven’t,” she admitted.

Leonardo nodded before continuing. “We don’t resolve our problems.

We need to address them head-on.”

Alexa held her tongue. She didn’t want to comment until she understood his direction. Did he think they needed marriage counseling, maybe?

Whatever it took to get them back on track, she was willing. If salvaging their marriage was a priority for him, it certainly was for her.

“We haven’t addressed our problems,” he continued, “and of course, I’ve been somewhat of a bully. Therefore, I’ve decided to change the terms of our arrangement. You may leave. I have no right to keep you here.”

“What are you saying?” She spoke so lowly she could barely hear herself.

It was a wonder he even heard her. Rubber band-like tension squeezed her heart relentlessly, making it difficult to think. Her brain was frozen, in shock.

Hours before he’d insisted she could not leave until he was ready, until the terms of their arrangement were concluded. Now, he was more or less kicking her out.

His jaw tensed noticeably. “I’m saying you’re free to go—if that’s what you want.”

Free to go. That had been what she wanted, but now … Now she was calmer, she was back to wanting to stay.

“What about Xander and the … money?” Alexa couldn’t look at him anymore. Her gaze settled on the cream-colored sheets, and she began to pluck at nonexistent loose threads. She couldn’t bear for him to see the pain in her eyes.

“The money is his.”

There it was. She no longer could use the excuse that he’d forced her to come here, because it was an excuse. Even though consciously she rebelled against the idea of returning as Leonardo’s wife, she now had to admit that on a subconscious level, she’d missed him, their lovemaking, and their friends, and her life hadn’t been the same. Without him, her life was empty, barren. Now he was relegating her back to that paltry existence, and just the thought of it made her want to sob out loud.

Alexa lifted her gaze to his, but she couldn’t read his expression. His stoic face didn’t indicate what he was thinking at all. Did he still want her in his life? Not just as a lover, but in her role as partner and mother of his children? If only she could see some softening in him, anything to give her a hint in which direction to go. If she only knew whether or not he wanted her to stay, or was telling her she was free to go his way of politely getting rid of her?

“Well, then,” she said, forcing herself to sound upbeat and trying to act as if her heart weren’t breaking. “That’s good news.” If she weren’t careful, she would start blubbering like an idiot. Remain calm. “I could leave tonight.”

Or never.

“That won’t be necessary, but of course, the choice is yours. We can move as quickly as you like.”

He was still as cool as a cucumber. She was as hopeless in her efforts to read his expression as she was in reading Portuguese.

“I’ll leave tonight.”

There was no other choice. She couldn’t stay in one of the guest rooms, pining away for him. She was worried she would find herself back in their suite, pleading with him to find a way to work things out. She couldn’t remain here, in the room with him, because it would be too difficult, and if he touched her and made love to her again, it would make leaving in the morning even more difficult. Her only choice was to leave tonight so she could run back to her small condo and weep in private.

He didn’t respond to her statement. Instead, he turned away from her and unzipped his jeans.

“I’m going for a swim.”

It wasn’t unusual for Leonardo to go for a swim in the nude because of the privacy afforded by the private courtyard. Nonetheless, it was jarring to watch the jeans lower down his bronze, muscular thighs and expose his taut buttocks. She took a mental photograph of his magnificent body as he exited the door, because she realized that would be the last time she ever saw him naked. Perhaps the last time she ever saw him, period.