Bound by Love (Russian Connection 2)
He was just so annoyingly beautiful.
“Not that it is any of your concern, but I have been to the orphanage to ensure the boots I purchased were delivered to the children,” she snapped, stirring the coals of her anger in an effort to ignore the tingles of excitement that refused to be dismissed. “It is shocking how merchants will attempt to cheat the children if I am not there to keep them honest.”
His lips tightened. “I suppose it is no use in pointing out the danger of visiting such a place?”
“None whatsoever.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
Her eyes narrowed as she belatedly noted the shadows beneath his magnificent eyes and the tension etched onto his elegant features. “Something is troubling you. What is it?”
He stiffened, as if caught off guard by her perception. Then his lips twisted with a reluctant amusement. “You know me so well.”
“Are you going to tell me what has happened?”
Stefan’s brooding gaze swept over her face, lingering a heart-stopping moment on her lips before returning to her wary eyes.
“Edmond sent word that my steward was injured in an accident.”
Leonida pressed a hand to her lips. Although she had only been at Meadowland for a short time, she had come to know and respect Stefan’s devoted servants. Especially the steward who always had a kind word when she crossed his path.
“Mr. Riddle?”
“Yes.”
“Is he badly hurt?”
“He has broken both legs.”
“Oh, no. The poor man.” Her concern deepened at Stefan’s grim expression. “Will he walk again?”
“According to Edmond he should make a full recovery.”
“Thank goodness.”
He nodded, his thoughts seemingly distracted. Leonida wrapped her arms around her waist, beginning to sense his presence in the garden was not just to reveal his steward’s accident.
“I must return to Meadowland.”
Even knowing this moment was bound to come, Leonida was shocked by the crippling pain his words caused.
To never see his beautiful face again. Never to hear his low, seductive voice whispering in her ear. Never to feel his warm, hungry kiss demanding a response.
She abruptly turned to stare blindly at the water spouting from the marble nymph in the middle of the fountain.
“I…see.”
His hands gripped her shoulders, the heat of his body burning through the back of her muslin gown.
“Leonida, I have no choice.”
“When do you leave?”
“As soon as possible.”
She curled her hands into fists, her nails biting into her palms until they drew blood. She would not to cry. Not yet.
What did she have left but her pride?