Page 46 of Virgin's Night with the Greek

So what was she going to do about the situation? Was it too late to try and convince Leo that the patterns of the past didn’t have to be repeated? Or would she be fighting a losing battle? If she tracked him down and demanded to talk to him, would he be pleased to see her or appalled?

Willow was so wrapped up in misery and confusion that she almost didn’t hear the sound of the buzzer. When she did, she grabbed a pillow and stuck it over her head for no one need see her in this much of a state. But whoever it was wasn’t going away, so with a deep ragged sigh she threw aside the pillow, levered herself off the sofa and padded to the door.

‘Yes?’

‘Willow? It’s Leo.’

Her heart stopped, then began to gallop. Was she hallucinating? Had she somehow conjured him up with the strength of her feelings? He’d frequently been able to read her mind, but surely telepathy couldn’t cross continents. So why was he here?

With shaking fingers, she buzzed him in and estimated she had one minute to make herself presentable, which wasn’t nearly enough, but at least her clothes were clean and her recently touched-up hair was good.

She stood at the open door, her entire body vibrating, her limbs alarmingly weak. His thumps up the stairs matched the thundering of her pulse, and then he was striding towards her, big, broad and so handsome he took her breath away, and God, it was good to see him.

‘Leo,’ she said, the surge of longing that she’d spent a month trying to deny nearly taking out what remained of her knees. ‘What are you doing here? You look dreadful.’

He rubbed his hands over his face, which was haggard and more sharply angled, as if he’d lost weight, then shoved them in the pockets of his jeans. ‘Can I come in?’

‘Of course.’ She stood aside to let him pass then closed the door behind him, her studio immediately filling with a restless sort of energy that put every one of her senses on high alert. ‘Would you like something to drink?’

‘No, thank you,’ he said, heading into the space then turning to face her, the intensity of his gaze pinning her to the spot. ‘I’d like to know how you’ve been.’

Willow swallowed hard, her mind racing. How should she respond? What was he thinking? She couldn’t tell. His face gave nothing away. Did she dare use this opportunity to find out? She’d had no time to plan. Yet surely she could be brave. She’d blagged her work into exhibitions. She’d secured an invitation to the wedding of the year then pursued Leo across a dance floor and persuaded him to agree to a one-night stand. When she knew what she wanted she went for it, and she might never get another chance.

‘I thought I was doing fine,’ she said, her mouth dry, nerves nevertheless tangling in the pit of her stomach. ‘But I just realised I’m not. You?’

‘The same.’

Her head swam. Her heart thudded. Could she dare to hope? ‘I’m going to Milan next week,’ she said. ‘I’m not as excited about it as I should be.’

‘I resigned.’

She blinked in shock. ‘Resigned?’

‘Zander is the new CEO of Stanhope Kallis.’

‘What? Why?’

‘I’m tired of doing things I don’t want to do,’ he said, his gaze trained on her face as if nothing else but her existed. ‘I’m sick of living by rules that don’t make me happy.’

‘I see,’ she said, not seeing at all. In fact, she was actually feeling a bit dizzy. He was taking up too much space, too much air. ‘So what are you going to do?’

‘I haven’t decided yet.’

‘That must be a concern.’

‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you?’ he said with the ghost of a smile. ‘But oddly enough, it isn’t. I feel liberated. As if the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders.’

‘Then it was the right thing to do.’

‘I think so. And do you know whatdoesmake me happy?’

Right now she knew nothing. She wanted him so much she could barely think straight and this conversation was not proving easy to follow. ‘Sailing?’

He shook his head. ‘You do.’

She stared at him, reeling. She had to clutch the back of a chair for support. ‘What?’

‘You make me happy, Willow,’ he said, taking his hands out of his pockets as he took a step towards her, his gaze softening. ‘When I’m with you there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. When I’m not with you, you’re all I think about. I’m in love with you. I think I fell for you the moment you challenged me to a compromise by the pool the afternoon I failed to bribe you into not exhibiting your portrait of my mother. Despite what both you and I might have thought, you’ve turned out to be exactly my type. I’ve been wrong to fear emotion. I’ve put too great a value on control. But I am neither of my parents and from now on I intend to forge my own path. I’d like to do it with you.’

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