Page 57 of Leon

"He's lying. He wants to come between us. I'm a sick man—"

"Stop it!" She pressed her hand to her quivering stomach. "You were determined to ruin my happiness because you cannot allow yourself to be happy." She shook her head and lifted her chin. "No more. Leon has asked me for a divorce, and I am going to do my very best to convince him he's making a mistake." Her gaze swung to his father. "I love him so much. This past week has been so hard—"

"On him too." Robert moved forward to take her hands in his. On impulse, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Your mother was one of the best women I knew. I have a feeling she passed those traits to you." He squeezed her hands. "Welcome to the family, my dear." Without sparing a glance for the man he had been arguing with, he left.

The silence stretched for several minutes as father and daughter stared at each other.

"You're choosing that man over your own flesh and blood."

Tears glittered in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "There wouldn't have to be a choice. I loved you." She pressed her lips together. "But yes, I'm choosing my husband. It's up to you if you want to finally bury your bitterness and accept him. It's time I started thinking about my own happiness for a change." She turned to leave, and with her hand on thedoorknob, she looked at him over her shoulder. "You never had a heart problem."

He bristled. "I had problems, and it was your duty as a daughter to do your part. You owed me."

Sadness descended on her like a flood and had her swaying. "I don't owe you anything. You're my dad, and you're supposed to love me. That's it. You used me, and for that—" She shook her head. "Goodbye, Dad."

"Don't you dare leave!" he shouted after her. "That man is going to chew you up and spit you out, and don't you come crawling back to me. Rich people are all the same—they care about the money and nothing else."

Closing the door on the rest of his ranting, she leaned against it and took several deep breaths. For the first time in ages, she felt light.

*****

He was tired and heartsick. All he wanted to do was drink himself into oblivion and turn everything off. His sister had nagged him to come home, saying that she missed him and wanted to discuss the progress of the clinic with him. He had to admit that he was running away, staying away from her. Stepping into the foyer, he dropped his bag and frowned at the aroma coming from his kitchen. He had instructed his housekeeper not to bother with any cooking. Besides, he wasn't hungry. Ignoring the aroma, he headed up the stairs, and then it hit him. Goddammit! His hand gripped the banister. She was his wife. Till death. His mouth thinned. He had told her that he wanted a divorce, but it was just BS. He wasn't going to let her go. He would sort through his emotions tonight and find himself at the bookstore tomorrow to assert his authority. With that in mind, he bounded up the steps and headed for his suite. He pushed the door of his bedroom open and simply stood there staring. It was a trick of the mind. He had been thinking about her too much, and as a result, he was hallucinating. He was rooted to the spot, his hungry gaze taking in the exquisite face that had haunted his dreams and every waking moment.

Then she spoke. Turning to face him, she smiled and gestured to the open doors of the huge closet. "I packed my things on one side." Her gesture was uncertain, as if she was waiting for him to tell her to go. "It's embarrassing to realize that my husband has so many more clothes than I do."

He blinked and found his voice from a throat that was so tight, the words came out as a croak. "I guess we're going to have to fix that. What—"

"I'm here." She rushed to say. "For good. You said you want a divorce—"

"I don't." He finally nudged his weakened knees to move forward. She was wearing peach—the silk nightie so transparent, she was practically naked. Her hair was brushed back and glowed with life down her back. He could smell her from where he was, and he knew if he didn't have her right now, he was going to die or simply go mad. He had no idea how he made it across the room until he was standing in front of her.

"Leon—"

"Shh." His hands lifted, and he trailed his fingers over her satiny cheeks. "You're here. Oh God." She let out a startled gasp as he hauled her into his arms. The kiss was brutal, a hungry man finally being fed. His hands roamed over her body, and suddenly, the wispy material was off, as if it had just melted from her body. He wanted flesh. Her flesh. He was going to devour her. He was sure he was going to eat her up. That was how hungry he was.

And it was going to be bloody rough. His heart was pounding, his blood boiling at such an alarming rate he felt faint.

How the hell could he ever think he wanted to divorce her? Was he mad? Lifting her up, he carried her to the bed—his bed, their bed. She was here—Christ Almighty! She was here. He felt his body harden until he started to ache. Stepping back, he tore the clothes off his body and climbed in, climbed on top of her. His green eyes were blazing, his breath coming in pants. It was going to be swift; right now, he wanted swift and instant gratification.

"I'm sorry." His voice was hoarse, his body shuddering. "I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you."

Her arms came around his neck, and she lifted her mouth to his. "I don't care. Now, please. Oh God, Leon, I want you inside me—" The rest of the words came out in a scream as he drove into her. His breath whistled through his mouth. She came violently, her scream rending the air.

"Take more." He went mad as her slender body trembled beneath his. "Give me all."

She came again, her face buried in his chest as her very foundation was rocked. He came—long and hard, his mind a whirl of emotions so searing it shattered his heart.

He went weak and couldn't move, just collapsed on her, his face buried in her hair.

"I'll move in a day or two," he told her drunkenly.

Laughing softly, she banded her arms around him to keep him there. "No rush."

"Baby, I'm crushing you." Making an effort, he shifted, gathering her against him so she was resting on his shoulder. He brushed the tendrils of hair sticking to her forehead. "You're here. To stay." Emotions stormed through him, and he could not breathe.

"Yes." Lifting her head, she touched his face, the tears trembling on her eyelids. Taking a deep breath, she told him what had happened between their fathers.

"Dad?" He blinked.

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