He rose and he looked...magnificent. Big and dark and sexy in faded jeans and a snug-fitting black tee shirt.
‘Ciao, Helena.’
The deep baritone fired a zing of awareness through her she didn’t welcome. Questions crowded her mind until one emerged from the jumble. ‘How did you find me?’
His gaze roamed her face, her bare shoulders. For a second she thought she saw a flicker of heat in his eyes.
‘When I couldn’t reach you I contacted David. He told me you’d resigned.’ His voice carried a note of surprise. ‘He also said you’d planned a trip to Paris. The rest—’ He shrugged. ‘Let’s just say I know someone who’s good at tracking people down.’
She wanted to be annoyed. She wanted to be so very, very annoyed. But all she could focus on was fighting the desire to reach out and touch him.
She pulled in a breath and realised her mother was by her side, bag in hand.
‘I want to check out that little bookstore and café we spotted yesterday.’ Miriam touched Helena’s cheek, her smile tender, then gave her daughter a quick hug. ‘Hear him out,’ she whispered, and then she was gone.
On rubbery legs, Helena went and perched her tote on the end of the small breakfast bar.
‘I like this,’ Leo said behind her, and she turned, ready to agree that the apartment was indeed likable.
But he wasn’t looking at the chic decor, or the quintessentially Parisian views. He was staring at her—or, more specifically, at her dress.
He stepped closer and slid his finger under a thin daffodil-yellow strap. ‘It’s pretty.’
‘And it’s not black,’ she quipped, nerves—and something else—jumping in her belly.
One corner of his mouth kicked up. ‘It’s certainly not that.’ He fingered one of her curls, bleached amber by the sun, and let it spring free. ‘So...no more black?’
‘Well...less black.’ She couldn’t afford to ditch half her wardrobe. She’d made no definite decisions about her future, but whether she chose art school or simply a job that offered scope for creativity she’d need to stretch her savings. She shrugged. ‘I guess I’m rediscovering my love of colour.’
‘And what brought that about?’
‘You did.’ Her candour made her blush but she couldn’t regret the words. She wanted to be truthful with him, even though it wouldn’t change anything. ‘You challenged me. Made me think twice about what I’d chosen to give up.’
He had reawakened her passion for art and life. For that, among other things, she would always love him.
She moved away, sat in a comfy chair, needing to escape the heat his close proximity generated.
‘What do you want, Leo?’ The question came out sharper than she intended, but that was all right. She needed to keep her barriers up. Already the sight of him was spreading unwanted warmth. Making her forget how cold and remote he’d been during their last encounter.
He reached for a jacket she hadn’t noticed over the arm of a chair. He pulled an envelope from a pocket, tossed the jacket back down and dropped to his haunches in front of her. When he slid the photo out and handed it to her, back side up, a thick wad of emotion clogged her throat.
‘Read it to me,’ he said.
She glanced up, opened her mouth to refuse, but the firm set of his jaw made her reconsider. She looked down again, studying the words even though she didn’t need to. They were carved for eternity on her heart.
She prayed her voice wouldn’t wobble. ‘“He was special because we made him. Carry him in your heart...as I do in mine.”’
The next line blurred in front of her eyes.
‘Read the rest.’
Her throat thickened. ‘Why?’
‘Because I need to hear you say it.’
‘Why?’ she repeated, fighting back stupid tears. ‘So you can watch me humiliate myself?’
He placed his hands on the arms of her chair. ‘Why would those words humiliate you?’