‘Does it get sore?’
‘Only sometimes. Mostly it’s fine.’
‘It must’ve taken a while to recover.’
‘No sports for a year. I wasn’t devastated,’ she admitted dryly.
He chuckled. ‘No? You weren’t all jolly hockey sticks?’
‘I was a nerd. Enforced rest gave me time to draw.’
‘Will the pregnancy cause you pain?’ His voice was very husky now. ‘You’ll be able to take the strain of carrying two babies?’
She paused. ‘When I recovered from the operation they said childbearing should be fine in the future. I guess I should see my specialist when we get back to Sydney.’
His finger pressed a little heavier on her skin. ‘We should have done that already.’
‘I don’t think I’m going to expand all that quickly.’ She half laughed. ‘And if it does get sore, it won’t be anything dreadful.’
‘I don’t want you to be in any pain.’ He lifted his hand away.
She felt the loss of that tiny contact. ‘Lots of women have backache when pregnant. At least I’m used to it. And it may not even happen.’ She turned to face him again. ‘I’m still not perfect but it’s better than it was.’
He looked down at her. She felt almost naked in front of him now but there was something in his eyes that her sad brain wanted to read as admiration.
‘No one’s ever perfect, Rosanna, but you’re strong,’ he said softly. ‘You have a steel spine. For real.’
She smiled gently.
‘If you can handle surgery like that, you can handle anything.’ His hands lightly shaped each side of her waist—one side indented, the other more straight.
It didn’t matter though, just the look in his eyes made her feel wanted—and his words? They filled her with a blaze of heat that was new. A power. He’d seen and he’d not thought any less of her, in fact he thought along the lines she’d secretly felt. That she had some grit. And now she was struggling to remember what she’d been telling him. Why she’d been telling him.
She drew in a steadying breath and remembered. It had been about her parents. Because? She felt an instinctive, self-protective need to hold him at a distance. She’d tell him everything. Anything to distract herself from the temptation he posed. Nothing would push him away more than discussion of her parents. The sooner she said it all, the sooner they could move on and he would understand why she didn’t want to marry him. Why she couldn’t. She stepped back from his touch and his hands dropped.
‘You have to understand my parents excel in hyperbole and the pursuit of perfection—I got braces, and a steel rod in my spine, to make me...better, so I could be the future face of the business—it’s all about appearances, right? They wanted me to be my best, not always what was best for me. Whatever I did was embellished because I wasn’t ever quite good enough.’ She laughed awkwardly, quickly getting through the worst. ‘And I didn’t want to let them down. Their work is the whole reason they married. They share a passion for design and they wanted to be the best so they teamed up. It’s everything. They always held parties to show off their home—networking events really. I was shy and hid in the background and by the time I was old enough to help out they wanted me to stay out of sight until my spine had been straightened. And teeth. The freckles could be faded with make-up.’
‘Didn’t they see that all these things are part of what make you unique?’ He frowned. ‘You’re stunning, Rosanna.’
She battled another blush and tried to ignore him. She’d not been fishing for compliments, she’d just been trying to explain where she came from so he’d understand why she didn’t want a businesslike marriage.
‘They said boarding school was to help me get past the shyness and isolation of surgery but it was more for the connections they could make with the parents there. They wanted me to make connections. Ash Castle attended, as did all the other heirs to the social empire, you know? Future leaders and all those bright young things.’
‘They sent you to a school because of who attended?’
‘They subscribe to the “who you know” rather than “what you know” school of success. That’s what’s always worked for them up until now.’
His expression stiffened. ‘And that’s changed since I took over. I understand their disappointment but they shouldn’t have shipped corporate secrets. It was more than disloyal.’
‘It was,’ she agreed simply. ‘The only thing I can think is that he was desperate. Success is everything to them.’
‘Is it everything to you?’
‘No. Not their definition of it anyway,’ she said. ‘I was supposed to follow them into the family business. That’s why they called me Rose—because my father is known as Red. It was supposed to be a cute marketing plan for Gold Style that I couldn’t live up to. I don’t have the design flair, I don’t have the social skills needed to sell the concepts...’ She huffed out a breath. ‘When I did well at school that was the one thing they could celebrate. But then they pushed too hard in that and suddenly I’m supposed to be a genius. I was put up a year because they were so pushy and told the teachers I was gifted. I had to work so hard to maintain the grades they told everyone came so easily. They were resigned to my not being in the business only if I then excelled academically. It was a relief to go to university but, honestly, even there I’ve not done what I “should” have. I was supposed to have been a prodigy, instead I just did my degree and then took a job as a technician because I didn’t want to leave...’ It had been safe there. ‘But that hasn’t stopped my parents telling everyone I’m a professor. I avoid coming back to Sydney too often so I don’t have to disappoint them all over again.’
‘Your value shouldn’t be based on a list of achievements.’
‘Says the ultimate over-achiever.’
‘It was survival for me,’ he said briefly. ‘Do you enjoy your job?’ He’d asked her that before, but now, in a way, she could answer him.
‘I applied for a lectureship last month so my parents could finally be telling the truth.’
‘So you’re still trying to please them. Still pushing yourself along a path that’s not really of your choosing.’
‘I’ve failed though.’ She shrugged. ‘Didn’t get the job.’
‘Did you really want it?’ he asked her astutely.
She sighed. ‘Maybe not. Maybe I didn’t really push for the projects that would’ve promoted me. Honestly? I was tired after striving so hard all through school to keep those grades. But it’s the expectation, isn’t it? To fulfil the dreams and expectations of your parents.’
She didn’t live up to her potential or the expectations others had of her.
‘What about your own dreams and expectations? If you never had to worry about money or status or what anyone thought...what would you do?’
‘I don’t know.’ She’d never taken a breath to figure out for herself what she wanted.
‘You like to grow things.’
She laughed. ‘That’s just a hobby.’
‘That’s a passion,’ he corrected. ‘And passion is a good thing.’
‘You can’t make money from plants.’
‘Sure you can.’ He cocked his head. ‘Anyway, you don’t need to make money.’
‘I don’t want to be dependent on you.’ Her laughter faded. ‘I don’t want anything like my parents’ marriage, where it’s basically a business arrangement and the projection of their image, the look of it, is their priority.’
‘We won’t have that,’ he said quietly. ‘This isn’t about the look of it. We’re working together only in the sense of doing what’s best for those babies. You’re free to find fulfilment in your work, Rosanna. I’ll support you in anything you want to do.’
That wasn’t quite what she’d meant. Yet he made it seem as if it would be different—and that was tempting. He’
d already shown her he could cast work aside to focus on the ‘family’ he wanted to build. But there was still something missing. The heart of it.
‘Do you have any scars?’ she asked, suddenly needing to push back on him in some way. ‘Now I’ve shown you mine.’
‘None on the outside,’ he said.
‘Nothing?’ she pressed. ‘Not even from some silly scrape?’
No. He was total physical perfection.
He shook his head. ‘Millions underneath though.’
She regarded him warily, unsure about prying further but curiosity couldn’t be contained. And he was the one who mentioned it... ‘Such as?’
* * *
Leo studied her, his heart pounding. It was fair enough of her to ask. She’d opened up to him. And it was a way of distracting himself from the desire to kiss her.
‘It was hard,’ he finally said quietly. ‘And I felt very alone.’
‘Your mother must have suffered when Hugh wouldn’t admit he was your father.’
‘Very much so.’ He hated remembering it. ‘She tried for a long time to manage without asking anyone for help.’
‘Where was her family?’
‘They’d washed their hands of her.’
‘That seems cruel.’
‘Very. Unforgiving.’ He nodded. He had the same fault—he’d never forgive them. ‘I was about eight when she took me with her to face Hugh Castle. She’d got that desperate. He literally closed the door on us.’
‘I’m sorry.’
He didn’t tell Rosanna it wasn’t the first time his mother had tried. Nor was it the worst thing Hugh had done to her. ‘It’s important to me that our children don’t face any uncertainty,’ he said. ‘That you don’t suffer anything in the way of what she suffered. I can’t let that happen to you.’
‘Where is she now?’
He couldn’t answer for a moment. ‘She passed away when I was a teenager.’
‘Before...’
Everything. ‘Before I had any success. Before I proved Hugh was my father. Before I could give her any real security.’
Talking about this wasn’t working. It made him want to touch her just to avoid these memories and the misery they roused. He shouldn’t use Rosanna like that.
She was trembling but trying to hide it. She stepped just beyond reach each time he brushed too close—hyper aware of his proximity. As he was of hers. That kind of awareness made him wonder about her experience again. Maybe she’d been working too hard for too long and there’d not been the time. Maybe that shyness, that self-consciousness she mentioned had stopped her letting anyone get too close. But now she had no choice.
Yet she wasn’t afraid of him, he didn’t think. She’d trusted him enough to come away with him. To talk to him. But to touch him? She stepped back the very second it looked as if she was about to lean forward and kiss him. As if she were desperately stopping herself.
Maybe that was just desperately wishful thinking on his part.
‘I hear what you’re saying and I’m sorry for what you went through...but it isn’t going to make me change my mind,’ she said. ‘It can’t.’
He felt it as pure challenge. He shouldn’t. This wasn’t a game, there was too much precious at stake. And yet there was that electricity between them that made him want to push closer, to challenge, to make her laugh.
‘Stop worrying,’ he said, to himself as much as anything. ‘I know it’s a little complicated, but it could be worse. At least you’re not my secret stepmother’s illegitimate half-sister’s niece or something really scandalous.’
She laughed and his spirits lightened. He liked it when she laughed. And if he didn’t step away from her right now he was going to break his promises to both of them.
‘Let’s go explore,’ he growled.
Swimming lazily, snorkelling, taking in the stunning sight of the corals beneath the water. It was a hidden garden, a whole world of beauty and wonder. It should have been the perfect distraction—absorbing them both completely. Then they walked along the shore. Even without getting in the water there was so much to observe. She often crouched, gazing at the foliage of some of the plants, watching the insects. Everywhere she looked there was something even more amazing. She couldn’t help pointing things out to him as the joy of discovery overrode her usual quietness. It was lush and vital and unlike anywhere he’d ever been. He felt as if he were living in a wildlife documentary. But the most striking, fascinating creature was the angular, fiery yet pale woman alongside him. She was insightful. Yet also innocent. A pleaser who wanted more for her own children.
He wanted her to stay relaxed and satisfied. Which meant he didn’t want her to worry about anything. The anger he’d felt towards her parents’ betrayal faded slightly in the light of that and in what she’d told him. He was going to have to work something out when they returned to Sydney. He was going to have to fix it.
* * *
Two hours later Rosanna sat in the shade and distractedly doodled in her notebook. She couldn’t help thinking about what he’d told her about his mother and his father. It would have been awful, never to have been accepted. That kind of rejection went far further than skin deep. No wonder he had that drive to win. She felt guilty for not cutting the guy some slack. He wanted to do what was right.
He was back in the pool, resting his head on his arms at the edge, the rest of him floating. She sipped sparkling water yet felt that dizzying tingle as if it were champagne. Was she drunk on the mere sight of him? His nearness? Or was it his attention—he’d stayed near her on that walk, looking at the pools she looked into, talking with her at each point. She swept her hair up into a loose ponytail to cool her neck. And now he was looking at her the way he’d looked at the fish she’d pointed out to him earlier.
‘I can feel you staring at me,’ she grumbled. He was making her hands shake.
‘I like watching you.’ He sounded amused.
‘You need a hobby.’
‘Why can’t you be my hobby?’
She braved a look at him. ‘I’ve no plans to be anyone’s plaything.’
‘That wasn’t what I meant.’ His mouth curved dangerously. ‘But it doesn’t seem like that terrible an idea.’
‘Leo...’
He laughed and her world stopped. He was too gorgeous when he smiled and utterly irresistible when he laughed.
‘Sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, but you fascinate me.’
She shook her head in disbelief. ‘There’s nothing fascinating about me. No mystery.’
‘I think you’re wrong about that. And I like seeing what you notice,’ he added. ‘You’re more observant than anyone I’ve met. You discover the smallest things.’
‘It’s because I take the time to bother. Lots of people are too busy trying to talk or flirt or something.’
A smile flickered but his gaze sharpened. ‘You don’t like to talk? Or flirt?’
She shook her head.
‘There was me thinking redheads were feisty and vivacious and full of spirited temper,’ he teased.
‘Not shy and awkward and basically mute?’ she muttered. ‘Stereotypes don’t help anyone.’
‘You weren’t shy around me. Or awkward. Or basically mute.’ He leaned closer to study her. ‘That night you were the absolute opposite of that.’
She’d been different then. Because she’d lost her reason and let him do anything. Everything.
‘You were different that night too,’ she said. ‘Because, generally, you’re more serious than anyone I’ve ever met,’ she said. ‘Very focused and rigid.’
He stared at her for a second and then laughed again. ‘Rigid?’ He drew a breath. ‘And yet around you I laugh. Often. Isn’t it interesting, the devastating effect we have on each other?’
She swallowed. She didn’t want to talk about the ef
fect he had on her and she couldn’t stay still with him this close. She stalked inside and chose a novel from the shelves in the lounge. She desperately needed distraction.
When she went back to the deck she saw Leo in the distance. He’d taken himself for a run. It was almost an hour before he returned, slick with sweat and effort. He briefly stood beneath the outdoor shower and it took every ounce of her willpower not to drool at the display. Then the infuriating, stunning man dived back into the pool. Rosanna tried to read the novel.
‘Do you even know how to relax?’ Rosanna glared at him when he finally paused for breath.
‘By relax you mean lie about and do nothing?’ He shook his head, spraying droplets of water as he laughed. ‘That’s not how I relax.’
‘I’m lying about doing nothing because I’m not doing nothing. I’m reading. Plus I’m growing babies. Tell me how you supposedly relax, then. At the office?’
‘I enjoy it. It’s exhilarating. There’s always some new challenge.’
And she’d deprived him of that challenge by daring him to take a holiday. She had the horrible feeling she’d become his new challenge.
Surely him busy working would be better than him being fully focused on her? He’d become even more of a temptation with his attention. When he laughed it was as if the biggest fireworks display lit up the dark sky. Brilliance cascaded from him and enveloped her in its spillover, lighting her up. She needed him back on his conference calls or whatever. Not on her.
She couldn’t concentrate on the damn book.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LEO FLOATED, SHOCKED by his uncontrolled thoughts. He was actually jealous of the attention she was giving a book. But he wanted her to look at him instead. He wanted her to talk to him some more. To lead him on another stroll along the beach and point out small insects no one else would even spot. He’d had to take himself for a run to burn some of the insane sexual energy he was struggling to contain.
Nine Months to Claim Her Page 11
