‘He’s away for the weekend.’ She caught her full lower lip between her teeth and tried to disguise her worry about the situation beneath a shrug and a smile.
Her dad had been cagey when she had challenged him about where he was going, and who with, adding another hurt,‘Don’t you trust me?’to end the discussion. Because actually, no, she didn’t trust him, but there was no question of her voicing the fact. Her father was vulnerable; he had already tried to take his life once, and she hadn’t been there for him.
He needed support, not a guilt trip, she reminded herself. He’d done his time.
‘Why are you here, Leo? Nothing about this is accidental, is it?’ she charged.
‘You think I arranged for you to be attacked?’
‘Of course not! But you weren’t just passing either, were you?’
‘True.’ He performed a ninety-degree turn. ‘This is a nice place.’
Her eyes narrowed and she couldn’t bear it any longer. ‘Stop it! Why not say what you mean? How the mighty have fallen! Enjoy the moment, that’s fine! I guess I owe you that.’ She extended her arms wide in invitation. ‘If you must know, even this place is more than I can really afford, but Dad…’ She bit her lip and shook her head, wondering why she had volunteered this much information.
‘Wouldn’t enjoy slumming it?’
Her eyes slid from his intuitive dark stare. Her father had made his opinion of the flat very clear, and it hadn’t been positive!
‘When will he be back?’
Amy continued to shrug off the inappropriately thick coat to reveal a pale blue denim shirt tied at the waist. Her jeans were a shade darker and clung to her thighs and when she bent down to unzip the ankle boots she was wearing the fabric pulled distractingly tight across her firm, rounded bottom. Her waist-length glossy hair, which was working its way loose of the braid, fell over one shoulder as she straightened up and kicked off the soft ankle boots she wore.
Leo was still struggling to take control of the testosterone-charged heat in his groin when she lifted her head.
‘Monday,’ she said, giving the knot at her waist an extra sharp tug. ‘Like I already explained to you, he’s away for the weekend, staying with friends.’ Her hands landed on her hips as her chin lifted to a defensive angle, drawing his attention to the narrowness of her waist and the curve of her hips. Her supple, streamlined figure, the smooth curves of her body and her natural elegance had always made him think of a sleek cat. With claws, he added silently, thinking not just of the marks she had left on his shoulders on occasion, but the way she hadn’t hesitated before cutting him out of her life. It was a good reminder of what he was here to do.
‘Is this an interrogation?’ she asked with a frown.
Leo looked at her and laughed again.
At eighteen, Amy hadn’t had a clue about the sort of power her beauty gave her, let alone how use it to her own advantage. The fact that she still didn’t amazed him.
‘Have I said something funny?’ she demanded, the hoarse note of belligerence in her voice shaking loose a memory—a memory of that throaty little whimper, low in her throat, she would let out when he kissed her, promptly negating any control he’d ever had around her.
‘You’re very touchy,cara.’ He shifted his stance slightly to ease the ache in his groin.
A man might ask himself at this point just who was being punished here, he thought, permitting himself a flicker of an ironic self-mocking smile.
‘I’m not.’
It might be a piece of poetic justice, his plan to rub her little nose in their flipped fortunes by bringing her into his world, allowing her to see what she had missed out on, but he hadn’t factored in the fact that she wouldn’t be the only one made to feel uncomfortable with the arrangement. She was still the most incredibly sensual woman he had ever met.
Amy, reacting to the tension buzzing in the air like static, closed her eyes, bringing her lashes down to act like a glossy but inadequate protective shield, casting a shadow across her high smooth cheeks. It was then that he noted the purple smudges under her soft brown eyes.
‘Do you ever sleep?’
She shrank under his critical stare, clearly suddenly aware of what a wreck she looked. So different from the flawlessly glossy women he was used to escorting.
‘Thank you for your concern, but being self-employed means I need to put in the hours, and I like being my own boss.’
The look she gave him suggested that wasn’t entirely true. But he didn’t care to explore it further. He was more interested in furthering his cause.
‘Do you like your father’s new friends?’
It took Amy a moment to retrieve the thread he had picked back up. Where was he going with this? Why did he want to know?
‘Newfriends—?’
