Matched To Mr Right. Kat Cantrell
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But it’s okay. It’ll still be there in the morning.”
Relaxed Leo was nice, too. So much more approachable. She returned his smile and tugged on his arm. “Then sit down for a minute. Tell me about your day.”
He didn’t budge from his statue impression in the foyer. “Not much to tell. Why don’t you go on up to bed? I’ll hang out downstairs and make sure there’s really nothing to worry about.”
Oh, no, you don’t. “I’m not tired. You’re here. I’m here. Come talk to me for a minute.”
He hefted the messenger bag in his hand a little higher in emphasis with an apologetic shrug. “I have some work to finish up.”
“That’ll be there in the morning, too.” Gently, she took the bag from him and laid it on the Hepplewhite table against the wall, a little surprised he’d let her. “We haven’t talked since the alumni gala.”
The mere mention of it laced the atmosphere with a heaviness that prickled her skin. Leo’s gaze fell on hers and silence stretched between them. Was he remembering the kiss? Or was he still determined to forget about it? If so, she’d like to learn that trick.
“There’s a reason for that,” he finally said.
Her stomach tumbled at his frank admission that he’d been avoiding her. She nodded. “I suspected as much. That’s why I want to talk.”
His gaze swept over her face. “I thought you wanted me to tell you about my day.”
“I do.” She started to reach out but stopped as she took in the firm line of his mouth. “But we need to talk regardless. I was hoping to be a little more civil about it, though.”
“Maybe we can catch up tomorrow.” He picked up the messenger bag from the table, but before he could stride from the foyer, she stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
Arms crossed, she stared him down. “Be straight with me. I can handle it. Are you regretting your choice in wives? Maybe you’re wishing you’d picked Jenna after all?”
The bag slipped from Leo’s hand and thunked to the floor. “Not now, Daniella.”
“You mean not now, and by the way, not ever? When will we have this conversation if not now?” Too annoyed to check her action, she poked a finger in his chest. Being demure had gotten her exactly nowhere. “You’ve been avoiding me. I want to know why. Am I not performing up to your expectations?”
“I’m not avoiding you.” Guilt flitted through his expression, contradicting the statement. “I’ve got three proposals out, the shareholder value on one of my major investments took a forty percent loss over the last week and a start-up I staked declared bankruptcy today. Is that enough truth for you? The reason we haven’t talked is because I’m extremely busy keeping my company afloat.”
The Monet on the wall opposite her swirled into a mess of colors as she shared some of that guilt. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you about the noise. I just wanted to...” See you. Talk to you. Find out if you’ve been thinking of me. “Not be scared.”
Leo’s expression softened and he reached out to grip her shoulder protectively. “You shouldn’t have been. I had the security system installed as soon as you agreed to marry me and it’s top-of-the-line. It would take a SWAT team to breach it. You’re safe here. Do you not feel like you are?”
She stared up into his worried blue eyes and her insides liquefied. He genuinely cared about the answer. “I do.”
It dawned on her then that Leo did a lot behind the scenes—far more than she’d realized. Almost as if he preferred for no one to know about all the wonderful gestures he made or that he was such a kind person underneath. Was he afraid she’d figure out he cared about her more than he let on?
“Good.” The worry slipped from his expression and was replaced with something that looked an awful lot like affection. “The last thing I want is for you to feel anxious or insecure.”
Perfect segue. They shared a drive for security. Surely he’d understand her need to settle things. “You know what would make me feel a lot less anxious? If I knew what was going on between us.” Emboldened by the fact that Leo had cared enough to rush home for her, she went on. “We’re supposed to enjoy each other’s company when we cross paths, but we never cross paths.”
“We just went out a week ago,” he protested with a glint in his eye that warned her to tread carefully.
She wasn’t going to. If Leo pulled another disappearing act, this might be her only chance to make her case. Besides, he said they could talk about anything.
“Exactly. A whole week ago and we haven’t spoken since then, other than a terse ‘Good morning.’ I can’t handle your life if I’m not in it. Besides, our relationship won’t ever develop without deliberate interaction. On both our parts.”
“Daniella.” He put a thumb to his temple. Great, now she was giving him a headache. “What are you asking of me?”
He said it as if she hoped he’d blow through the door and ravish her, when all she really wanted was a conversation over a nice glass of wine. “For starters, call me Dannie. I want to be friends. Don’t you?”
Wariness sprang into his stance. “Depends on your definition of friends. The last time you brought that up, I got the distinct impression it was a euphemism for something else.”
“You mean sex?” Oh, Scarlett had just been chomping at the bit to get in the middle of this conversation, hadn’t she?
Leo gave a short nod. “Well, to be blunt.”
Oh, no. There was that word again. Her last fight with Rob flashed through her mind and she swallowed. Was she trying to ruin everything?
But Leo wasn’t a spineless, insecure guy like Rob who couldn’t handle a woman’s honest opinion. Besides, this was her marriage and she was prepared to go to the mat for it.
“Our marriage apparently calls for blunt. Since I might not get another opportunity to speak to you this century, here it is, spelled out for you. My offer of friendship is not a veiled invitation to jump me.”
His brows rose. “Then what is it?”
Laughter bubbled from her mouth. “Guess I don’t spell as well as I think I do. Didn’t we decide our relationship would eventually be intimate?” Not blunt enough. “Sorry, I mean, that we’d eventually have sex?”
To Leo’s credit, he didn’t flinch. “We did decide that. I envision it happening very far in the future.”
Gee, that made her feel all warm and fuzzy. “Great. Except intimacy is about so much more than shedding clothes, Leo. Did you think we’d wake up one day and just hop into bed? It doesn’t work like that. There’s an intellectual side to intimacy that evolves through spending time together. By becoming friends. I want to know you. Your thoughts. Dreams. Sex starts in here.” She tapped her forehead. “At least it does for me.”
“You want to be romanced,” he said flatly.
“I’m female. The math shouldn’t be that hard to do.”
“Math is one of my best skills.”
What was that supposed to mean? That he’d done the math and knew that’s what she wanted—but didn’t care? She stumbled back a step.
With her new distance, the colors of the Monet swirled again, turning from a picture of a girl back into a jumble of blotches.
She and Leo needed to get on the same page. She took a deep breath. “How did you think we were going to get from point A to point B?”
“I never seemed to have any trouble getting a woman interested before,” he grumbled without any real heat. “Usually it’s getting them uninterested that’s the problem.”
Ah,