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Secrets of the Playboy's Bride

Page 11

by Leanne Banks


  He swallowed a chuckle. “Glad I could help.”

  Two days later, she brought home a dog of indeterminate breeding. He could have been part bulldog and retriever or part Lab and cocker. The good news was that he was neutered. The bad news was that he was a puppy and liked to dig. She named him Pooh.

  “Pooh?” Leo echoed in dismay, staring at the ugliest dog he’d ever seen. “But he’s a dog.”

  “I didn’t know what else to call him, so I decided to name him after my favorite Winnie-the-Pooh animal,” she said, rubbing the puppy.

  “But Pooh is a bear,” he said.

  “It’s actually a compliment. Pooh is an animal with a big heart and big courage,” she said earnestly.

  “That’s still weird as hell,” he said, feeling a strange tug toward the animal. An overwhelming sense of longing twisted through him. He’d never had a pet when he’d lived with Clyde and Lilah, but he had a strange feeling that he’d had pets before. It was odd as hell.

  “Does he have his shots? Does he have a leash?”

  She lifted the leash and smiled. “I would have sworn you wouldn’t be the least bit concerned about a dog.”

  “I wonder if he can catch a Frisbee.”

  She snickered. “Agility trials, here we come.”

  He met her gaze. “I have to help him overcome his name.”

  That night, they taught Pooh to catch a tennis ball in his mouth. Or Pooh just knew how to catch a tennis ball in his mouth.

  Calista laughed in exhilaration beside him. “He’s so fun.”

  “Yeah,” Leo said and tossed another ball into the air in the game room.

  Pooh chased it, catching it in his mouth. The dog had feel-sorry-for-me brown eyes combined with a panting doggy smile and ears that swung from side to side.

  “We need to take him to the lake,” he said.

  “Or a dog park,” she said.

  He wrinkled his nose. “We can go to my estate just out of town.”

  “It will be a hassle for you to drive into town,” she said.

  “Not with the helicopter,” he said.

  She looked at him and smiled, her eyes sexy and challenging. “That’s an awful lot of trouble just for a dog.”

  He gave a heavy put-upon sigh. “Since you’ve already committed us, we have to do the right thing.”

  She clutched his collar and pulled him against her. “You’re a sucker,” she whispered.

  “Only when I want to be,” he warned her.

  “I like that about you,” she said and pressed her mouth against his.

  A week later, Rob called her. “I have info.”

  “What kind of info?” she asked.

  “Important info. You gotta buy me a drink for this,” he said. “You gotta buy me a lot of drinks. Meet me at The Mark,” he said.

  “No way,” she said. “The last time I was there, the police raided the place, there was a fire and my car was impounded. Pick somewhere else.”

  “Man, you’ve gotten snooty since you married a gajillionaire,” he said.

  “Be reasonable,” she said.

  “Okay, you want snooty. How about the top of the Liberty Hotel?” he asked.

  She bit her lip. “You don’t know the meaning of the word discreet, do you?”

  “You didn’t want The Mark. This one’s on you. Meet me tonight at six,” he said and hung up.

  Calista stared at her cell phone and scowled. How could she explain her absence from dinner? How could she explain her need to be away at that particular time? She sighed, but was determined to get answers. She would tell Leo’s assistant that she wouldn’t meet him for dinner tonight because she was shopping.

  She went to the bar and waited. Ordering water, she waited and waited. She dialed Rob’s number, but there was no answer. She waited for another hour then left.

  Calista drove home because she didn’t want George to know where she’d been. She swept inside the house and Pooh raced toward her, jumping up on her. The dog was a salve to her guilt. She rubbed Pooh’s face.

  “How was your shopping?” Leo asked, strolling toward her.

  “Good,” she said. “Good. How was your day?” she asked deflecting his question.

  “Busy, as usual. Where are your dresses?” he asked.

  She panicked for a few seconds. “They need to be altered.”

  He gave a slow nod. “Okay.”

  “Yes.” She rubbed behind Pooh’s ears. “How much trouble has he caused?”

  “No more than you,” he said.

  She made a face at him. “I turned down three more invitations to dinner and sent regrets for more charity events. I unblocked your assistant, and he sent me a text message today that since we’re not giving interviews we should make an appearance at something. Do you have a preference?”

  “Something where we can leave early,” he said.

  She laughed at his dry tone. “Okay, I think my women’s society club is holding a summer soiree scavenger party soon. I initially sent regrets, but the organizer keeps calling.”

  “Scavenger party?” he asked.

  “It’s creative,” she said defensively.

  He paused a half beat. “Can’t deny that. Call your friend and confirm.”

  “There’s also a Saturday Expand-my-brain volunteer workshop for people of all ages in a few weeks. They want people with all kinds of skills,” she said.

  “I have no idea how I could help in that situation,” he said.

  She smiled. “You underestimate yourself.”

  That night, he made love to her with more passion than he had before. He consumed her from head to toe, making her sated, but still hungry. When he finally sank inside her, she quivered around him, milking him with her wet, feminine secrets until he shot to the top.

  For all the times he’d taken her, he still didn’t feel married to her. He felt an incredible connection to her, yet, at the same time still separate. Being with her conjured up feelings he didn’t understand, feelings he wasn’t sure he wanted. She panted the same way he did. Her breath mingled with his.

  “That was pretty amazing,” she said, sliding her hands down his arms and searching his face. “What—”

  “You,” he said, “inspire me.”

  Her mouth curved into a smile. “Who? Me?”

  “Yeah,” he said, sliding off of her and pulling her against him. “You.”

  Within minutes, he drifted off to sleep. Visions drifted through his mind. He saw a dog with a wagging tail, little boys with dark hair and dark eyes. A woman scolded him. A man laughed, his joy evident.

  He and the other boys ran to the dinner table. He beat one of the older ones and sat down to a plate of lasagna. The aroma of beef and sausage made his stomach growl. He took a bite. It was the richest, most delicious pasta dish he’d ever tasted.

  “Leo, slow down. You’ll make yourself sick,” the woman said.

  The man laughed again. “Don’t worry. The boy has an appetite. Hunger is a good thing.”

  Leo woke up in a cold sweat. He sat straight up, panting, trying to make sense of his dream. The images tumbled through him again. He felt a hand on his arm. Calista’s.

  “What is it?” she asked in a groggy voice. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “A strange dream.”

  “Hmm,” she said. “A nightmare?”

  “No,” he said. “Just a dream.” But he wondered because it had seemed so real, so very real. He slowly laid back down and took several deep breaths. Forcing his eyes closed, he saw the images he’d glimpsed earlier. He wondered if they were real or if they were wishes. Or if they held clues to his life before Clyde and Lilah.

  Family? A father and mother? Brothers? Was it possible?

  On Saturday, Calista dressed in jeans and a blouse to attend the expand-my-brain volunteer workshop. She found Leo, who had risen hours earlier, in his home office. For just a second she watched him, allowing her mind to play with the idea that he was her husband. If the
re’d been no ugly past between them, she wondered what would have happened between them, what could have happened. Her stomach twisted and she shook off her thoughts. She couldn’t undo the past. “Are you ready to expand some brains?”

  He flashed her a doubtful look. “I’m not sure I’m the best man for this job.”

  “Of course you are,” she said. “You’re smart. You’re successful. What’s not to like?”

  “You weren’t completely clear about what we’ll be doing,” he said.

  “It could be anything from reading a book with a young child to helping with math. It won’t be brain surgery,” she said, although Calista was certain Leo was intelligent enough that he could have been a brain surgeon if that was what he’d wanted.

  “I may not be the best example for young children,” he said in a stilted voice.

  “Why?” she asked, even though she knew he’d tricked dozens of people and made money off of it. “It’s not as if you’re a crook,” she said.

  His eyes barely flickered. “No, but there’s always my misspent youth.”

  “Hmm,” she said, feeling her anger shoot out of nowhere. So that was how he described it. His misspent youth. She took a quick breath and counted to ten to keep from saying what she really thought. “Nobody’s perfect. You have a lot to offer.”

  His mouth lifted in a half smile as his gaze fell over her possessively. “Are you speaking from experience?”

  Her mind slammed back to visuals of their heated lovemaking and she bit her lip, bothered by the way her feelings for him seemed to jerk from one end of the spectrum to the other. “An observation,” she said.

  He turned off his laptop and stood. “Okay, but I can only stay for an hour or so.”

  Forty-five minutes later, Calista helped an elementary-age girl named Kelly with division while a crowd formed around Leo. She assisted Kelly until the little girl’s attention waned and her mother collected her. Curious about what Leo was discussing, she joined his class.

  “Whenever you’re selling anything to someone, including yourself, you have to find out what the buyer wants. What does the buyer need? Your job is to give him what he needs.”

  “What if you don’t have it?” a young man asked.

  “Then you tell him where he can get what he wants, or prove that your product is the answer to his problems. The biggest part of sales is listening to the buyer and helping him see that you’re part of his solution. How many times have you gone into a store and asked for help only to have a salesman take you to the most expensive model of whatever you’re looking for instead of asking you questions about what you want and need?”

  “But I just sell candy for my community group,” a little boy said.

  “Then you sell the experience of being a part of making the world better by buying one of your candy bars. Be what your buyer is looking for—a clean, well-mannered young man,” Leo said. “Same thing when you’re looking for a job. Do your research. Find out as much as you can about the company where you’re applying. Be prepared. You can learn a lot on the Web. You may even find out something about the person who will interview you.”

  “What if I ain’t got no Internet?” another young man asked.

  Calista watched Leo, wondering if this question would stump him. He looked so magnetic, so self-assured. She wondered if anyone ever succeeded in making him feel self-conscious.

  “The library has Internet,” he said. “All for now. Good luck with your future sales.”

  She saw the crowd, both adults and children, push toward him. Everyone seemed to want to shake his hand. It was almost as if they hoped his magic would wipe off on them. She wondered if he’d learned his selling technique from his father. A bitter taste filled her mouth. He’d certainly sold her father down the river. Yet, even now she could tell that he wasn’t all evil. He appeared as if he sincerely wanted success for each person with whom he spoke. Was appearance the operative word? Underneath it all, what was he really thinking?

  He glanced up and searched the crowd, his gaze landing on her. She felt a frisson of excitement at being singled out by him. Yes, the rest of the world knew she was his wife. But she knew the truth. He didn’t love her and she needed something from him. Nodding in her direction, he walked toward her.

  “Let’s go,” he said and slid his hand to her back as he guided her to the Town Car.

  “What is it?” she asked. “They loved you. They were hanging on your every word.”

  His body was tense, his mouth taut. “Maybe. They hear what they want to hear.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked as he opened the door to the car and followed her inside.

  “Home,” he said to George.

  “Which one, sir?” George asked.

  “Out of the city,” Leo said.

  She studied his face and instinctively lifted her hand to his clenched jaw. “Why are you so upset?”

  He caught her hand just before she touched him. “I’m not upset. “He shrugged, his eyes dark and full of tempestuous emotion. “Seeing them reminded me…It brought back memories.”

  “Of what?” she asked.

  He narrowed his eyes and shrugged again. “Nothing I want to remember.”

  She felt a strange twinge of compassion at odds with her wall of defense against him. “You gave them hope.”

  His mouth twisted cynically. “That’s what I was selling.”

  “You don’t believe there’s any hope?”

  “I believe in hard work, good timing and good luck,” he said. “It’s not easy being poor and wanting a better life.”

  “No, but what you told them is true. Selling a product, selling yourself, is a life skill. Don’t you believe that? Or were you just telling them what they wanted to hear?”

  “No,” he said. “I gave that up.”

  She lifted her eyebrows at his revelation. “When?”

  “Shortly after my time in the egg,” he said.

  “But you still used your sales techniques,” she said.

  “Yes. I found out what the buyer wanted, but I also found out that people believe what they want to believe. Some are harder to read than others.” He lifted his finger to her lips. “Like you. What do you want to believe, Calista? What do you want to believe about me?”

  Her heart pounded at the intent way he looked at her. She feared he could almost read her mind. She swallowed hard over the sensation of her emotions wrapping around her windpipe and squeezing. “I want to—” She broke off. “I believe that you’re a powerful, charismatic man. I believe some part of you wants a family,” she added impulsively.

  He lifted his eyebrows. “Is that what you believe or what you want to believe?”

  Her thoughts whipped through her mind. She wanted to believe that he was a bad person and that she should feel no guilt about marrying him for his money. She wanted to believe that she couldn’t have feelings for him because he’d been part of her father’s downfall. “I don’t believe that humans are hatched. Humans are born and want and need to be loved.”

  His eyes bored into hers. “A word of caution. Don’t overestimate my emotional needs. I’ve spent a lifetime learning to live without. I’m not going to start now.”

  His statement made her blood run cold. “Are you saying you have no real feelings for me?” she asked. “If that’s true, then why did you marry me? Oh, wait, you wanted a wife to make your business deals go through more smoothly. So why me? Other than the fact that I was convenient.”

  “I told you that you fascinated me.”

  “And you thought I could be an asset,” she said, digging into the dirty truth as much for herself as for him. She had to find a way to keep him from getting to her.

  “Yes, but many women could be an asset.”

  “So all women are interchangeable?” she asked.

  “I didn’t say that. I told you that you fascinated me. I couldn’t get enough of you,” he said, pulling her against him. “I still can’t.”

  Her br
eath squeezed tight from her lungs again. “You don’t have an emotional attachment to me and you never plan to. What do you expect of me?”

  “Everything,” he said. “Your mind, your body. Everything.”

  She gasped. “That’s ridiculous, and it’s not fair.”

  “I never said anything about being fair.”

  That night, he made love to her, consuming every inch of her, wringing a response from her that surprised even her. When she awakened in the morning, Calista felt like a prostitute. What was she selling in order to secure her sisters’ future?

  Feeling suffocated by her feelings and her fake marriage, she took Pooh and drove to visit her sisters. With each mile she put between her and Leo, she breathed a little easier.

  She brought a picnic lunch to share with her sisters and cousin’s family on the back porch.

  “Best picnic food I’ve ever had,” Sharon said afterward when the girls and Justin adjourned to play a video game.

  “Leo’s chef prepared it. He’s amazing,” she said.

  “But of course. The great Leo would have nothing less than amazing, including his wife,” Sharon teased.

  “I’m not amazing, but I get the job done,” she said cryptically.

  Sharon stared at her and blinked. “What do you mean by that?”

  Calista waved her hand. “Oh, nothing. I was just joking.”

  “How are things going with the newlyweds?” her cousin asked.

  “Good,” Calista said. “Great. Being Mrs. Leo Grant means I have a full-time job of turning down social invitations, so I quit my job.”

  Silence followed. “You don’t sound happy about it.”

  Calista laughed to cover her discomfort. “Of course, I’m happy. I can become a lady of leisure now. What could be better?”

  “If you say so,” her cousin said.

  “I do,” Calista said. “How is Tami doing?”

  Her cousin lifted crossed fingers. “I’m hoping better. She’s still hanging out with a crowd I don’t like, but she’s been getting home on time. I worry now, but she’ll be leaving for college in the fall and I won’t be able to do a thing.”

 

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