by Leanne Banks
He took another sip of coffee and watched the sunlight gleaming on her tousled hair. “You fought being civilized,” he said.
Her lips twitched. “I wouldn’t have put it that way.” She rested her chin in her hands and studied him thoughtfully. “I want to ask you about something.”
“Then ask.”
She took a deep breath and frowned. “You have marks on your back. Were you injured at some time?”
Leo immediately pulled back. “Car accident when I was little.”
Her eyes wrinkled in concern. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t remember anything about it or anything before then.”
“Oh,” she said, a stunned expression on her face.
He could see the sympathy coming and was determined to stop it. “That was all before the egg,” he said.
She didn’t smile in return. In fact, she frowned. “Do you know how old you were?”
“Around eight,” he said. “It doesn’t matter.”
“How can you say that? Don’t you think it had an impact upon you?” she asked.
There’d been years when he’d fantasized about the family he must have had before the accident. Before Lilah and Clyde had rescued him. He knew his family had died in the crash, but he hadn’t known how many siblings, if any, he’d had. He didn’t know what his mother and father were like, if they’d treated him well. Now that he was grown, he suspected he’d been treated better by his real parents. How could he not have been?
“I don’t focus on the past,” he said. “I focus on the future.”
“You don’t think you can learn important things from your past,” she said.
“I’ve learned everything I need to learn from my past. I don’t dwell on what happened when I was child because if I did, I’d go crazy.” He paused a half beat, refusing to give into the secret need for information about so many unanswered questions about himself. It was a fruitless endeavor. “We’re flying out tonight. I’ve arranged for your guide to take you souvenir shopping one more time while I wrap up my last meeting with Mr. Kihoto. In the meantime, don’t forget the trip to India in a few weeks. Have you cleared it with your boss?”
“I thought I would finish this trip before I start asking about another,” she said, irritation leaking into her expression. “Are you sure it’s necessary for me—”
“Absolutely sure,” he said, standing. He was much more comfortable with her irritation than the sympathy he’d glimpsed.
She followed him to his feet, her irritation turning to anger. “And what if I can’t?”
“If you can’t find a way, then I’ll help you,” he said.
“That sounds like a threat,” she said.
“No. It’s a promise of assistance. Don’t argue about this anymore,” he said and headed for the bathroom.
“If you think you’ve married a submissive little Stepford wife, you are very mistaken.”
He paused, thinking about her words. He turned to face her. “I never received any indication that you were submissive. I just understood that you were a reasonable adult willing to make the adjustments necessary in our marriage.”
“And what adjustments will you be making?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Whatever adjustments I make, they won’t include continuing petty debates like this.” He entered the bath and closed the door behind him, but not before he heard her make a sound of utter frustration.
Leo avoided her after that. It was amazing how much space the man could create around himself even in his personal jet. After they landed and returned to his condo, they might as well have been separated by a small city. Fine, she thought. She didn’t mind. Every hour that passed when she didn’t have to deal with Mr. Demanding was one less hour on her six-month time clock. His remoteness didn’t bother her for at least two days. She had plenty of work to do. She visited her sisters and cousin and delivered the souvenirs from Japan and avoided her cousin’s questions about her marriage.
The more she thought about what Leo had told her about the accident he’d had as a child, the more curious she because. On her return drive from visiting her sisters, she dialed the number for her P.I.
“Rob here. How you doing, Mrs. Grant?”
Calista made a face. “I haven’t technically changed my name.”
“Like that matters,” he said. “Congratulations on bagging the big one.”
She ignored his sarcasm. Rob had once wanted to date her. They’d become friends instead and he’d given her a cost break when she’d asked him to investigate the man who’d caused her father to go over the edge. “I learned something recently that has made me curious.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Leo was apparently in a terrible accident when he was about eight years old. He remembers nothing before that. Nothing about the accident.”
“I stopped my investigation once I found out he was involved in the grifting scheme with your father,” he said.
“Well, there’s something about his childhood that bothers me. He won’t talk about it.”
“Probably because plenty of people would like to skin his late father and him,” Rob said.
“Maybe,” she said and mused about his response to her. “I probably shouldn’t ask you to do any more digging.”
“On your beloved husband,” Rob said sarcastically.
“Okay. I get it. You don’t want to help me. Can you at least point me in the direction I need to look if I want to get more information about his childhood?”
Rob laughed hysterically.
Calista frowned. “You don’t have to be nasty about it,” she said. “It’s not like I’m asking for state secrets.”
“I’ll do it,” he said. “You owe me drinks,” he added and hung up.
“I can’t take you for—” She broke off when she realized he was no longer on the line. Sighing in frustration as she approached Leo’s condo, she slipped her key into the parking lot entry and tried to rein in her feelings. Her call to Rob had been impulsive and she shouldn’t have made it. If Leo wasn’t interested in his childhood, she shouldn’t be either. Rob probably wouldn’t find anything anyway.
Six
Calista’s BlackBerry went off as she took her lunch in her office. Join Mr. Grant at 6:30 p.m. tonight for Philadelphia Business Owners dinner. Dress: business casual. Car will pick you at 6:00 p.m. at the downtown condo. Thursday night, George Crandall Museum for awarding of the LG Enterprises Scholarship Funds and Friday night Grand Celebration of the Arts on the Delaware River. More details to come. S. Miles, assistant to Leo Grant.
Calista stared at the text message from her husband’s assistant. She shook her head. This wasn’t even an invitation. It was a list of required appearances. From his freakin’ assistant.
Her temperature rose with each passing second. She could barely contain her anger. Who did he think he was? Obviously, Mr. Important Leo Grant. Another text popped up and she strongly considered erasing it before she read it, but gave in to her curiosity.
Please confirm. S. Miles, assistant to Leo Grant.
She had two words for Mr. Miles and Mr. Grant and they were not Merry Christmas. Calista was so furious it was all she could do not to start screaming. Instead, she counted to ten. Twenty times.
She took a deep breath. First step, ignore the order. Second step, block Leo’s assistant’s number. Step three, work late and plan a long visit to the gym afterward.
Leo left the dinner early, wondering why Calista hadn’t shown. In the back of his Town Car, he dialed her number, but his call went straight to voice mail. Irritation twisted through him. He wouldn’t even have attended it, but the chairman of the organization had begged him. Little had he known he would be presented with an award for bringing new jobs to Philadelphia. The attention made him self-conscious. He was always wary of having his picture taken, especially if it might be put in the media. Even though he looked far different now from what he did as a young teenager, he al
ways got a chill wondering if someone might recognize him.
He dialed her number again, but again it went to voice mail. Concern cut through him. He wondered if she was okay. It wasn’t like Calista to turn off her phone. He was torn between an odd combination of missing his wife and not wanting her to ask questions about his childhood ever again. The conversation they’d shared that morning in Japan had opened old wounds he’d sworn to never revisit. There had been a time when he’d gone so far as to hire a private investigator to find out his past, but there’d been nothing except dead ends. Leo wasn’t sure who his real parents or real family were and he’d had to face the fact that he never would. He hadn’t wanted to claim Clyde as his father and was thankful he wasn’t Clyde’s son by blood.
“You’re quiet tonight, Leo,” George said from the front seat. “What’s on your mind?”
“Regular stuff. I had nonstop international phone calls and meetings today. Barely had time to breathe,” Leo said.
“Haven’t seen your wife lately,” George ventured, digging.
“We’ve both been busy since we got back from Japan,” Leo said. “I have my work. She has hers, although I don’t see why she continues. God knows, she won’t need the money.”
“She’s a little more independent than you expected, isn’t she?” George asked, glancing in the mirror.
“Yes, she is,” Leo answered, unable to keep the irritation from his tone.
“If you’d wanted a tamer kitten from the litter, you shouldn’t have chosen one with claws,” George said. “She doesn’t strike me as the type to take orders unless she sees a good reason for them.”
Leo frowned. “Maybe.”
“Odd that she won’t quit her job. She’s either very independent…” George said and paused a long moment.
“Or what?”
“Or she isn’t sure the marriage is going to last.”
The statement jarred Leo. He’d thought the prenup would hold her. “What the—”
“Just a thought. I could be wrong,” George said as he pulled in front of the condo.
“Good night, George. Pleasant dreams,” he said in a dry tone and got out of the car.
“You too,” George called cheerfully.
Leo took the elevator to the penthouse and stepped inside. He stopped, listening for any signs of Calista. His housekeeper, Brenda, approached him. “Welcome home, sir. May I get something for you? A drink? Something to eat?”
He shook his head. “No thank you. Have you seen my wife?”
“Yes, sir. She came in about twenty minutes ago and went straight to the exercise room.”
“Thank you, Brenda,” he said and decided to fix his own drink. He went to his study and poured himself a scotch. Ditching his tie, he sat down and checked the overnight stock markets for a few minutes. He glanced at the clock and decided to head for the exercise room.
Opening the door, he spotted her running on the treadmill. She was moving at a fast pace and perspiration glistened on her arms and back. It wasn’t at all unattractive to him. The way she ran reminded him of a cheetah in the jungle. She would be difficult for even the smartest, strongest predator to catch.
Seconds passed and she slowed. Gradually, she slid into a cooldown walk. Leo leaned against the wall and waited until she stepped off the treadmill and pulled out her earphones. She turned and her gaze landed on his, her green eyes widening in surprise before a twinge of anger came and went so quickly he wondered if he imagined it.
“Looked like a good run,” he said. “Was it?”
She nodded. “Good stress reliever,” she said and picked up a small dumbbell.
“Stressful day?” he ventured, walking forward, wondering why in hell he hadn’t insisted she join him in his bed since they’d returned from Japan.
“Still catching up from my time away.”
“Did you get a message from my assistant?”
She wrinkled her brow. “I’m not sure. I got some sort of spam, so I decided to turn off my phone until I could contact my carrier about it.”
“Spam?” he echoed, confused.
“It must have been. Some random guy I’d never met gave me all these dates and times I was supposed to make appearances.”
He studied her for a long moment, but her eyes were wide with innocence. He cleared his throat. “Was the message from Samuel Miles?”
She frowned and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know,” she said. “It was so ridiculous I just dismissed it as spam.”
Leo felt another surge of something stronger than irritation. “What was so ridiculous about it?”
She chuckled. “Oh, really. Think about it. If my husband wanted me to attend an event with him, he wouldn’t send a message from his assistant. For one thing, it’s incredibly impersonal. Plus the message wasn’t a request. It was an order. Now that’s insulting. And I just can’t believe my husband would do something so incredibly ridiculous.”
He was peeved and inexplicably amused at the same time. Her eyes batted in exaggerated innocence and he felt his lips twitch. “Point taken.”
She met his gaze and took a deep breath. “Just so you know, I blocked his number.”
“Whose number?” Leo asked.
“The person who sent me the spam,” she said and lifted her chin. “I’m not your employee. I’m your wife.”
He nodded. “In that case, wife, I’ll expect you to join your husband in his bed tonight.”
Her gaze flickered and she opened her mouth, but he spoke before she had a chance.
“Isn’t that what husbands and wives do?” he challenged.
The next morning, Calista awakened after a night where Leo had pushed her to unbelievable sexual heights. She felt stretched and sore and amazing. Calista realized she’d never had a clue what sexual satisfaction meant before Leo. She wondered if he knew that, too. She glanced at the clock and dragged herself from Leo’s huge bed. He, of course, had left a long time ago.
Stepping into the shower, she let the water spray over her, washing away her soreness and worries. When Leo made love to her, he took more than her body. He captured a bit of her mind, maybe even her soul. If she had one.
Rubbing herself dry with the Egyptian cotton towels, she returned to the bedroom and saw an envelope with her name on it propped on the bed. She picked it up, opened it and read it.
Would you meet me for lunch today? I have a charity obligation on Thursday and your presence would make it much more bearable. As it would for my obligation on Friday night.
He gave her his BlackBerry number. His request was infinitely more personal. Her heart twisted.
She typed her response. “Yes, yes and yes.”
Hours later, she sat down to lunch with him at one of Philadelphia’s most exclusive gourmet restaurants. “Thank you for meeting me,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said and took a sip of water from the glass that had already been poured. She looked at him, the man who had owned and occupied her body last night. “How’s it going?”
“Could be worse,” he said. “We got the Japanese account. I’m sure it’s because of you.”
“Not sure about that. Mrs. Kihoto made it easy. All I had to do was get naked in front of a group of Japanese ladies.”
“Funny. Despite Mr. Kihoto’s extracurricular activities, he respects his wife’s opinion.”
“Or maybe he just realized what a great deal you were offering,” she said.
He flicked his gaze over her. “Maybe. What would you like for lunch? Anything is yours.”
“Fish,” she said. “I need all the brain food I can get. Especially after last night.”
His lips lifted. “You flatter me.”
“Not really,” she said. “I just need to keep my mental energy going.”
“Okay, salmon it is,” he said.
Mere moments later, the waiter arrived with their lunch. Calista dug in, enjoying her seafood and focusing on her own meal rather than Leo. She needed her strength, her acu
ity. Heaven help her, she hoped the food would supply it.
She sipped from her water glass, refusing wine. “That was delicious.”
“Yes, it was,” Leo said, clicking his water glass against hers. “Would you like to go to the lake house this weekend?” he asked.
“I have to visit my sisters,” she said.
“Bring them with you,” he offered.
“Have you met them? I love them, but my sisters can be a royal pain,” she said.
“So can you,” he said, his eyes hooded with sensuality.
“Okay,” she said. “But I’ve warned you.”
She joined him for the events, dressing quickly after work. The first night he met her at home and made love to her. The second time, he took her in the limo. She wondered if she would ever feel normal again.
“This is kinda crazy,” she told him as he held her in his arms.
“It’s crazy in a good way,” he said, kissing her.
“Are you sure about that?” she asked.
“Yeah, I am,” he said.
Calista took a deep breath and deliberately drowned herself in him.
She felt him fold her around him as he slid inside her. She held onto him wanting more, wanting everything….
“I’m rolling onto my back,” he said. “You can take me any way you want.”
And she did, but at the same time, she was completely taken.
That weekend her sisters joined Calista and Leo at his lake house. Calista feared he would run screaming from extended close contact, but he managed. She was impressed at the way he handled them on his yacht. Then again, what wasn’t to like about riding on a yacht?
Leo took Tina on an inner tube ride.
“Can I try it?” Tami asked, who was usually too cool to participate in what she deemed childish.
“Of course,” Leo said. “You’re up next.”
After a few more minutes for Tina, Tami jumped off the side of the boat and positioned herself in the inner tube.
As Tina climbed on board, Calista wrapped a towel around her sister and hugged her. “That rocked,” she said and glanced at Leo. “Your husband is the best.”
