by Isabel Keats
“Poor rich boy,” whispered Cat with compassion, as she gently stroked his cheek.
“Don’t feel sorry for me. My privileged upbringing more than made up for it.” Visibly stiffening, he quickly separated from her.
Catalina realized that, once again, he was putting up his defenses. She changed the subject. “It’s a gorgeous house, Leopold; I want you to show me everything!” She spun in place, gazing up at the beautiful paneled ceiling.
“I promise I will, but I’d better show you to your room first. Come on.” Leo took her by the hand, and they quickly climbed the impressive marble stairway that split into two before reaching the upper floor. Leopold opened a door and stood aside to let her in. The room was fresh and bright, clad in wallpaper with an ivy motif. There was an immense stone hearth by the large four-poster bed, and a curved bay window with a wooden bench running around it, topped with a comfortable cushion, made a romantic nook for reading.
Catalina couldn’t contain her enthusiasm when she saw the room, while Leopold discreetly watched all the emotions flashing across her expressive face. “It’s the most stunning bedroom I’ve ever seen!”
“Look, this is the bathroom. You’ll have to share it with me; that’s the trouble with old houses, it’s difficult to sort out the necessary plumbing.”
The bathroom was immense, and natural light poured in through a large window, across from which was an old claw-foot bathtub. “I love it, I love it. My God, what a bath I’m going to have in this fabulous tub!” Cat went from one side of the room to the other, admiring everything.
At the end of the room was another door disguised as a wall panel, which led to another bedroom. “And this is my room.” Leo opened the door and invited her in. “For privacy, all you have to do is fasten the latch on the other side.”
“Perfect.”
Leopold’s room was sensational, too, but the décor was much more masculine. Instead of a reading bench, in front of the bay window, identical to the one in Cat’s room, was an old mahogany desk and a chair. “I can’t wait to see the rest of the house!” Catalina’s enthusiasm was contagious.
“Don’t you want to rest for a while?” he asked, amused by her extraordinary energy.
“Do you?” she asked, clearly disappointed.
Leopold suppressed a burst of laughter. “All right, I’ll knock on your door in twenty minutes.”
Cat shot him a dazzling smile and disappeared through the bathroom door, closing it behind her.
Exactly twenty minutes later, Leopold called on Catalina, and they spent the next two hours exploring the immense manor house from top to bottom. Cat appeared tireless and kept up a continuous stream of questions, and through his detailed answers, he began to see the stately home through different eyes.
Leopold had a love-hate relationship with Hallcourt Abbey. He had spent a solitary childhood between its walls. His father died when he was just five, and a private tutor had been responsible for his education until his mother sent him to Eton College when he was twelve. On a material level, he’d had more than anyone could wish for, but his mother had always been more demanding than affectionate, and as the only son and heir, all the family’s expectations fell on him.
From early on, his mother’s painful lack of tenderness and an absence of playmates his own age had made the solitary boy erect protective barriers around himself. As he now showed Cat the nooks and crannies that brought back so many memories, Leopold understood that the walls that he had raised around himself when he was a child still remained in place, even if, since he’d met Catalina, a few stones had begun to crack and were threatening to crumble.
He watched the young woman; she was captivated by the portrait gallery of his ancestors. He suddenly understood why he’d initially thought he didn’t like his neighbor: from the beginning, he somehow had sensed that Catalina would be the earthquake that would shake the foundations of his defenses, and, terrified, he’d clung to them tooth and nail. He wasn’t sure he wanted them to crumble; after all, they’d protected him for most of his life, and without them he would feel naked.
“Who’s this? He looks a lot like you.” Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Catalina was pointing at a painting of an impressive-looking man, dressed in the fashions of the nineteenth century, staring down at her with severity.
“It’s John Leopold Saint Clair Sinclair, my great-great-grandfather. He was the one who restored the family fortune, trading goods he imported from India. His overseas enterprise laid the foundations of Sinclair & Associates.”
“He looks formidable. If you wore a frock coat like his, you’d be identical,” she said, fascinated.
“Do you think I look at you with such a disapproving expression?”
Cat turned to him, smiling. “You certainly do. You’ve always looked at me as if I were an insect in your path that only courtesy stops you from treading on.”
“I’m sorry you think that,” he replied stiffly.
“See?” Cat gave a burst of laughter. Then she stretched out her hand and massaged his brow with the tips of her fingers. Leopold stood stock-still at her delicate touch, wishing it would end but at the same time praying it would go on for eternity. When the lines in his forehead relaxed, he moved away. “We should go and change for dinner,” he said, still recovering from the sensations stirred up by his neighbor’s cool fingers on his skin.
CHAPTER 15
Cat took a long, hot bath and put on one of the simple dresses she’d brought. She didn’t know how formal the dinner would be, but she shrugged; these were her clothes and there was nothing she could do about that. When she entered the room that Saunders showed her to, Leopold, looking very elegant in dark trousers and a white shirt, was waiting for her by the fire. “You look lovely,” he said, admiring her.
“Thanks.”
Just then, Leo’s mother walked in wearing an elegant gray silk dress. “Oh, you’re here. By the way, I’ve invited the Atkinsons to dinner.”
From the way her neighbor clenched his jaw, Cat could tell that he didn’t take that news well. Then the door opened and Saunders announced, “Miss and Mr. Atkinson.”
A woman similar to Alison, only redheaded and a little younger, was followed into the room by an attractive man, also with reddish hair and just an inch or so taller than Cat.
Leopold’s mother introduced them. “Cat, this is Pamela and Robert. They’re brother and sister, and have been our neighbors for many years.”
“So you’re Leopold’s fiancée?” The man slowly inspected her with undisguised interest in his blue eyes.
“That’s right.” Leopold put an arm around Cat’s waist and pressed her against him.
“I’d like to hear how you met.” The redhead shot Catalina a resentful look, and in a voice that was totally at odds with her words, she added, “I adore love stories.”
“Well,” Leopold replied, a roguish sparkle in his eyes, “we’re neighbors, and our balconies are separated by a small glass wall. I’ll never forget the night Catalina was on her balcony wearing nothing more than a bath towel—”
“We don’t need to hear the details, darling.” Cat hid her face in his shoulder, feigning embarrassment. The murderous look that Pamela gave the young woman did not go unnoticed by Leopold, but the lecherous expression on her brother’s face didn’t seem so funny.
“Yes, the specifics are quite unnecessary.” Lady Sinclair looked at her son with disapproval.
“You’re right, mother, I wouldn’t want to embarrass Catalina,” Leopold replied, before tipping Cat’s chin up with two fingers and placing a passionate kiss on her lips. After what seemed like an eternity, he drew away, his eyes still fixed on hers, and Catalina felt herself blush, this time for real. However, Pamela’s shrill voice brought her out of the strange trance her neighbor’s lips had induced.
“It seems she is a little embarrassed, yes,”
she said, leveling her disdainful eyes at the young woman’s flushed face.
“Leopold Sinclair, you know that I think amorous displays are vulgar,” his mother declared coldly. “We should move into the dining hall.” They all left the room together.
“Leo, you promised you’d treat me with polite affection,” Catalina whispered, furious.
“Was I impolite?” Her neighbor pretended to be surprised.
“You know exactly what I mean. No more cuddling or smooching in public.”
“Just in private then?”
She looked up at the ceiling. “Leo . . .”
Leopold placed Cat’s hand in the crook of his arm and led her to the dining hall. “Very well, Catalina, I promise I’ll behave. I just wanted to show that irritating pair that we’re not a sham, as they seem to believe.”
“But in fact, Leo, that’s precisely what we are,” she reminded him, as if explaining something obvious to a small child.
“Yes, but they don’t need to know that.” They’d reached the dining hall, so there was no time for Cat to answer.
Dinner was formal, with the five of them clustered at one end of the gigantic mahogany table, and the conversation was also stiff and unnatural. Fortunately, Leopold sat opposite Cat. Whenever his mother or Pamela made some absurd comment, he’d roll his eyes in such a way that Cat had a hard time controlling herself. On at least one occasion, she had to bury her head in a napkin and pretend to be having a coughing fit. She’d lifted her flushed face afterward and frowned at Leopold, but he’d just looked back with a saintly expression.
Leopold had to admit that he’d never enjoyed a dinner in his own home so much. He and Catalina seemed to be able to communicate with glances, and he often struggled to stop himself from bellowing with laughter at the comments she made with feigned innocence.
They returned to the drawing room after dinner, and Saunders served brandy and chocolates. Robert eagerly sat on a settee beside Catalina, and he spoke to her in a low voice, brushing up against her bare arm at the slightest opportunity.
Pamela, meanwhile, was perched next to Leopold, trying to monopolize his attention with a series of hunting anecdotes while his mother looked on with pleasure. Her son was barely aware of the replies he was giving the redhead; lecherous Robert was setting his nerves on edge. Finally, he turned to Cat and said, “Catalina, darling, you must be tired, we should retire for the night.”
“You’re right, Leo, it’s been a long day.”
“Are you really leaving us, gorgeous Cat? I don’t know if I can bear to say good-bye.” Robert took her hand and deposited a wet kiss on it, giving her a suggestive look.
Leopold clenched his fists, tempted to smash one of them into Robert’s face, but resisted with some effort. Catalina said good night to everyone, then took Leo’s arm, and they left the room.
When they were at a safe distance, she hugged him. “Oh, Leo, you behaved dreadfully. I nearly had a fit,” she said, beaming.
“Me? It was you asking all those naïve questions. It was all I could do not to explode with laughter!” her neighbor replied, pretending to be indignant. Catalina let out a peal of her contagious laughter, and he gazed at her with affection. “I’m glad you agreed to come here with me, Catalina.”
“I’m glad too, Leo.”
They stopped at the door to Cat’s bedroom. She lifted her still-smiling face toward his, and, for a moment, their eyes locked and their breathing became more labored. The noise of a door slamming somewhere in the house snapped them out of their reverie. “Good night, Leo,” said Cat, a little unsettled.
“Good night, Catalina.” Slowly, Leopold leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss at the corner of her mouth, sending sparks to her nerve endings. Though no other part of his body was touching hers, Catalina found it impossible to move away, and they remained standing close together until she finally managed to take a step back. Then she went into her room, gently closed the door, and rested her head against the wood, panting.
Leopold stood motionless on the other side of her door as he tried to regain his breath. Eventually, he ran a hand through his hair, leaving it a mess, then slowly made his way back to his own bedroom.
Perhaps he should renew his plans for seduction . . .
For the next few days, the sun shone, and Leopold took advantage of the good weather to show Catalina their surroundings. At midday they went riding, and the young woman thought the area around Hallcourt Abbey among the most spectacular places she’d seen in her life.
The house was set on a hill with views of the sea, its deep blue reflecting the bright spring sky. Cat was eager to start painting, so one morning Leopold took her to a favorite spot where he’d gone as a boy when he wanted to escape his tutor’s vigilant gaze. The scenery from there was breathtaking.
“It’s stunning!” Catalina exclaimed, enraptured, as she admired the sheer cliffs and the little white sand beach in the background.
Catalina was wearing her old jeans, torn at the knees, and a long-sleeved T-shirt that had faded in the wash, and her hair was fluttering in the strong breeze. As ever, her neighbor found her disquietingly beautiful. “Choose your spot, though the wind might disturb you here.”
“Yeah, it might make it difficult to work. Are you sure you want to stay, Leo? I must warn you that when I start painting, I forget about everything else,” she addressed the back of his head. He was walking in front of her, carrying a medium-sized canvas and the wooden easel while she clutched her paint box.
“Don’t worry, I’ve always liked coming here. I’ll make the most of the peace and quiet to think about new business ideas.”
Catalina shrugged and chose a spot sheltered by a group of trees, from which the view was picture-perfect. “I’ll set up here,” she announced, satisfied.
“I’ll go back to the car to get the rest of the stuff,” Leopold said, but she was absorbed in her preparations and didn’t hear him.
He sighed. He had a feeling she wasn’t going to pay much attention to him that day, so he returned to the car, which was parked where the sandy path ended, and took out the picnic basket he’d asked the cook to prepare for them. The beach wasn’t far from the spot Cat chose, and Leopold put some bottles to cool in the icy sea.
He lay down on the springy grass near where she was painting, rested his head in his hands, nibbled on a weed in the corner of his mouth, and watched her while she worked. He was fascinated by the way Catalina concentrated on her painting; he spoke to her a couple of times, but she just responded with an absent-minded grunt. Amused, he saw her mix the colors and brush them with confident strokes onto the blank canvas.
Leopold was so relaxed that he found it impossible to concentrate on anything to do with work, so he let himself be caressed by the salty air as he breathed in the smell of the grass dotted with flowers and enjoyed Catalina’s presence, engrossed as she was in her painting a few yards away.
It was a long time since he’d felt so happy.
More than two hours later, Cat turned and seemed to notice Leopold’s presence for the first time.
“Gosh, Leo! I’m afraid I’ve been terribly rude. Have you been awfully bored?”
She considered his manly frame, sitting on the grass, his strong, tanned arms extending from the sleeves of his blue polo shirt and wrapped around one of his long legs. Even though he was in casual clothes, his hair tousled by the sea breeze, he still had an aristocratic look that distinguished him. Once again, Catalina could not help thinking that her neighbor was the most attractive man she’d ever met.
His gray eyes lit up as they fell on Catalina’s disheveled brown hair, her pretty face splashed with paint, and her old T-shirt displaying almost as many colors as the canvas. “Not in the least. I can’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed. Anyway, seeing you paint is quite a spectacle.”
Cat collapsed beside him. “I’m tired.
I’ve been on my feet for ages, and when I paint I’m very tense.”
“Do you want me to give you a massage?” he asked.
She smiled impishly at him. “No, thank you, neighbor dear.” He made an exaggerated expression of disappointment, and she chuckled. “May I ask what you have in such a big basket, Little Red Riding Hood?”
“As with business, I’m always very well prepared: before we left, I asked the cook to make us something nice. Are you hungry?”
“Famished!”
“Why don’t you get the stuff out of the basket and I’ll collect the drinks I left to cool?”
Catalina spread out the blanket she found in the basket and laid out some china plates, two glasses, sandwiches, and cakes. Seeing the food made her mouth water; luckily, Leopold arrived just then with the bottles.
“I brought water and white wine, but I promise it’s low in alcohol and I won’t serve you more than one glass. All right?”
“All right. I trust you.”
“You do? Hmm, I’m not sure I like that. It means I’ll have to be good.”
“Leo, don’t start. Remember that we both want to be friends,” she chided with amusement, before serving the sandwiches.
“True, but remember we’re also engaged to be married.” Ravenous, Leopold tucked into his food.
“You’d better remember it’s all a pretense to dupe your mother and free yourself from the terrible claws of Pamela Atkinson,” Catalina replied, before taking a bite of her own sandwich.
“It’s been so long since a woman laid her claws on me, terrible or otherwise, that I wouldn’t even know whether to feel happy or sad,” he complained in a serious tone.
“My poor boy.” Cat shot him a teasing look. “But if that’s what you want, I can announce that we’re breaking up and free you from any ties.”
“I knew you’d use the first opportunity to try to wriggle out of our engagement,” the man beside her grumbled.
