Chapter 8

FOR THE FIRST TIME since she'd started work at the hotel, Skye took a night off. She had been left shaken by the events of the day, and a knot of anxiety was lodged in her gut at what lay ahead.

Leandro made it sound so easy, but he wasn't really her fairy godmother or whatever. He'd be gone soon, and she'd have to fight these battles on her own. Okay, he might foot the bill for the expensive lawyers he'd hired but soon she'd be back living at her parents' and Jay could show up at any point.

She was incredibly grateful for his help but a part of her worried that he was stirring up a hornet's nest that would only come back and bite her in the end.

She knew what Jay was capable of.

No, she was afraid of what he was capable of. Her approach had always been to go softly, softly. She placated him, soothed him before his temper could be raised. It was a survival skill that had kept her safe.

But maybe it hadn't? Unless she'd planned to put her life on hold indefinitely, then there would always have been some issue or other that he objected to. The security cameras were a case in point. He didn't trust her. He'd been waiting for her to do something ‘wrong'. Had he been lulling her into a false sense of security by not fighting for custody in the first instance? Was this his way of keeping her in line?

She wouldn't put it past him.

He was a sick, awful human.

Which only underscored why she needed him out of her life—and Harper's life—once and for all. She was no longer willing to accept the risks that came from Harper spending an unsupervised weekend with her father.

Leandro had organized for Jane to stay in the apartment. It was more than large enough to accommodate them and in fact, there was a separate wing specifically for staff—oh, how the other half lived! Jane had a small bedroom with stunning views, and she set Harper up in the room next door to hers. Evidently, this was the norm, but for Skye, who was used to being with Harper whenever she wasn't at work, it was a strange reality to adapt to. As for Harper, she was so used to not having Skye around at bedtime that it was not at all difficult for Jane to settle her. Meaning Skye was at a loose end, and Leandro was evidently more than willing to capitalize on that.

"Did you bring a dress with you?"

"A dress?"

He nodded.

"Why?"

"For dinner."

"Dinner?" Parrot.

"Let's go out."

She pulled a face. "I didn't bring a dress."

"Then wear that. You look great."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm wearing what I wore to the playground this morning. I do not look great, and I definitely don't look fancy enough to go to a restaurant."

"You are incapable of not looking great," he said. "But leave it with me."

"What does that even mean?"

"Go, shower. Do your hair. Leave it with me."

Not quite an hour later,when she padded out to the lounge room in a thick white robe with her hair washed and dried, Leandro held a crisp paper bag towards her. She stared at it, frowning.

"Don't you want to look inside?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure."

He grinned. "Be brave, like I know you are."

She closed the distance between them and took the bag. Sure enough, there were two dresses inside—both designer, vibrant, soft dresses, as well as a pair of heels.

"Humour me," he said with a wink. "I have been fantasizing about you wearing these since they arrived."

"They can only have just arrived," she pointed out.

"Five minutes of speculation that has made me want to fast forward to the end of the night," he said with a shake of his head, and surprisingly, even after the day she'd had, she laughed.

God, it felt so good to laugh!

"Okay. Just to say thank you for everything you did today, I'll wear one of these."

"Good girl." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "But do you think you can dress quickly? I'm hungry."

She laughed again. "Your wish is my command."

"Careful, cara. I don't think you know my wishes…"

"I think I do," she replied huskily. "I think they pretty much accord with mine."

"Perhaps dinner is not such a good idea," he said with a grimace.

"Oh, it's an excellent idea," she responded waspishly. "You need to keep your strength up."

"As do you," he quipped.

She left the room with a smile on her face and an easing of the anxiety knot in her belly.

The dresses were exquisite.She had no idea how he'd magicked them up so quickly nor how he knew her size, but they were both sublimely perfect. In the end, she went with the red because it was bold and bright and spoke of confidence, which she would badly need in the coming weeks and months. She was terrified of butting heads with Jay, but Leandro was right: she had to do this. She would never be free from him, otherwise, and nor would Harper.

When she walked into the living room, she was distracted by her thoughts, so didn't put any effort into walking in a seductive way, she simply strolled out, but it didn't matter. Leandro looked at her in a way that turned her blood to lava.

He let out a low whistle, shaking his head a little. "You are beautiful," he said.

"I feel beautiful in this dress," she admitted. "I don't own anything like this."

"You should own nothing but dresses like that."

"I don't think the hotel would agree," she pointed out archly.

"But think of the tips," he pointed out.

"Erm, that's definitely not going to happen. I actually hate it when people look at my body."

"Really?"

"Well, not you," she conceded, smiling.

"Is that because of him?" Leandro asked, his tone serious now.

Her eyes widened.

"Or have you always been that way?"

She thought about that. "No, actually. I guess it's because of Jay. He was super jealous, and hated it when guys noticed me, so I started to dress down as much as I could. I guess I still do."

"Only an insecure ass would be threatened by your bagliore."

"My what now?"

"Bagliore. It means," he sought the word, and she was surprised, because his English was so flawless. "Your sparkle," he said, and her heart did something funny and unfamiliar, lurching strangely inside her chest.

"My bagliore." Her voice was raw. "I like that."

"You sparkle with the force of a thousand suns. He must have been so threatened by that." Leandro used his spare hand to cup her other cheek and angled her face upwards. "You should be with someone who wants to enjoy your reflected light, not cover it up."

"I guess I reached the same conclusion. Not about my bagliore," she hasted to add, "but about him not being good for me. It's a strange thing to feel yourself growing small. No," she corrected. "It's strange to realise you're making yourself small, to suit someone else."

"What did your parents think?"

"They were worried. But at the same time, they thought I was happy. So much of the time, I was faking it, trying to fool everyone that I was."

"Friends?"

She glanced away. "He somehow separated me from my friends. I wasn't even aware of it happening."

Leandro stroked her cheek gently.

"I feel like you have this magic key that unlocks secrets I've never told another soul, and yet you don't tell me anything."

His frown was infinitesimal, and he suppressed it quickly. "I can't talk about it."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to. Not with you."

Hurt seared her. Hurt that she'd trusted him so much, that he'd encouraged that. Hurt that she'd leaned on him in a crisis. And that he didn't trust her enough to share his story with her.

"Not with anyone. I'm still…working it out."

"Why can't I help you?" Her eyes were beseeching. "I can't do all this," she gestured to the table at which they'd sat with the lawyers. "I don't have money, or expertise, but I can listen. I'm really good at that."

He winced. "This isn't about you." His voice was gentle. "If I tell you, it will be here," he gestured from his chest to hers. "It will mean our relationship stops being an escape, and I just want to escape a while longer."

She tried to ignore the tenderness in the centre of her chest.

"When I go back to Italy, I will face the music. For now, if you want to help, keep helping me to forget."

No, she wanted to scream. That wasn't okay. It wasn't good enough. She wanted him to let her in. She wanted to understand all of him. It lodged like a stone in her throat to imagine that he'd be out of her life in a matter of days, and she'd not ever know this facet of him. That he would have helped her so generously and she wouldn't have been able to do the same for him.

Then again, maybe he was right, and letting him just enjoy this was the best way to help him? It seemed a lot like running away to Skye, and from what she knew of Leandro that surprised her, but who was she to argue?

"Okay." She tried to flatten out her ambivalence. "Let's go have dinner."

He dropped his hands from her face, caught one of hers in his and lifted it to his lips. "Thank you."

She found it was easy to smile at him, and she kept smiling all night.

He couldn't believehow close he'd come to telling her about his family. The confession had been right there, the words stuck to the roof of his mouth and rumbling with wanting to be spoken. I just found out I'm adopted.

He'd been so tempted to bare his soul to her, to let her try to fix him, to heal him, but how could she? The wound that had been inflicted on him by his parents' dishonesty wasn't going anywhere.

He'd been lied to his whole life, and Leandro couldn't forgive that. He couldn't forget it.

Anger stirred in his veins, a dark anger that threatened to consume him. But then he looked across at Skye's sleeping form and calmness spread through his veins.

She was his escape.

He hadn't realized just how much that would come to matter. How much she would succeed in pushing the darkness from his life when they were together. This had been about a distraction at first, and it was definitely that. Their chemistry was something else. But it was more now too. She was some kind of a talisman of hope, her bagliore was like glitter that had been bombed throughout his soul, tiny little fragments of sparkle existing inside of him because of her.

He would be leaving Manhattan next week, but until then, he wanted her here, like this. In his apartment, where he could know she was safe and selfishly, where she could keep him distracted. He'd somehow created the perfect setup for her, anyway, with the ideal nanny for her daughter. It would be easy to make this work.

And so, thinking only of the best way to move the pieces to achieve what he wanted, he picked up his laptop and typed out a quick email to his assistant, satisfied once it was sent that he'd pulled the levers necessary to give them the maximum time together. And then, he slipped into bed beside Skye, cradling her warm, soft body back against his, breathing in her sweet vanilla fragrance until he fell asleep.

"You did what?" She screeched, then quickly lowered her voice.

Leandro's nostrils flared, his indignation clear. "I organized for you to have some time off. Yet perhaps you misunderstood, as you are acting as though I just arranged for the slaughter of every kitten in Manhattan."

Out on the terrace of his penthouse, she nonetheless looked around to assure herself that Harper wasn't nearby. She wasn't. Jane was getting her dressed for an outing to the park.

"You don't get to organize my schedule, Leandro. I have a job. A job I need."

"Your job is at my hotel. It was the easiest thing in the world for my PA to remove you from the roster."

Skye groaned. "I'm sure it was, but what the actual hell?"

"What is the problem?"

He was being obtuse, and it was infuriating. "Are you kidding me?"

He crossed his arms over his chest. "I thought you would want to spend time with me too, before I leave for Rome."

Her stomach flip flopped. If only he knew how much she wanted that. But still…

"You had no right," she ground out. "This is my life."

"What is the problem?" He repeated, clearly trying to understand why she was so worked up.

"Setting aside the fact I need the money I earn from working, and that I can't afford to drop so many shifts?"

"I can give you money."

Anger flashed inside of her. "I would never take it."

She sensed he was about to argue, and she couldn't bear it, so she pushed on with her explanation. "Besides, I happen to have experience with a guy calling the shots for me, taking over my life, making decisions unilaterally and informing me of them afterwards and newsflash, buster, I don't like it." She crossed her arms over her chest, mirroring his body language.

He opened his mouth to say something, his eyes sparking with hers, and then he clamped it shut again, lifting a hand in the air to forestall whatever else she might have been thinking.

"You're comparing me to him?"

Had she gone too far? "Well, yes. In this one small way, I am."

His nostrils flared again. "Veramente?"

"I make my own decisions, Leandro. If you can't respect that, then I can't stay here with you."

The words splashed between them like rocks in a pond. She didn't want to go, but what choice did she have? Her boundaries were exactly that: boundaries. She needed to know they'd be respected. The erosion of her independence had been so slow and gradual with Jay, she hadn't really noticed or minded at first. But she'd promised herself she'd never let that happen again, and that meant standing up for herself at the slightest infraction.

"You're right," he said after a long silence. "I messed up. I'm sorry."

She hadn't expected that, though perhaps she should have.

"I was selfish. I wanted to spend time with you?—,"

"You have to work," she muttered. "It's not like you rearranged your schedule."

"I do have to work," he agreed. "If it weren't for the promise I made my brother, I wouldn't. But I have been rearranging my schedule, Skye, this whole time, for you. Because I like spending time with you. Normally I work into the early hours of the morning. But I haven't wanted to miss time with you."

Little bubbles popped in her stomach. "Oh."

"And I thought that after yesterday, you would like to have a few days to take stock, to spend with Harper, to meet with lawyers, and yes, to be with me."

She bit down into her lip.

"But I should have put all this to you as a plan and let you make up your mind. Perhaps I was afraid you would say ‘no'. And I really didn't want you to."

Leandro? Afraid?

"I probably would have," she whispered.

"I'm sorry." He dragged a hand through his hair. "I'm not thinking straight at the moment."

Because of whatever was going on in his life that he refused to discuss with her? The lack of trust thing really hurt. Like an open wound, it didn't take much provocation for it to flare up again.

She'd been terrified when he'd calmly told her she had the rest of the week off. It had felt wrong and heavy-handed, and it had reminded her of the way things had been Jay. But it was more than that. It had underscored the power imbalance between them. She worked for him. He could pull a few strings and clear her schedule. It was that easy.

And Skye hadn't liked to think of that.

She liked to think of them as equals, even when they weren't. Except here, they were. What they shared was nothing to do with money or power or success, it was just two people who had an overwhelming need for one another.

"It makes me feel…" she searched for how to express it, how to explain what she meant without sounding too invested. She shook her head slowly. "I like that you want to spend time with me, but please don't make decisions for me again." It wasn't what she meant, but it was true too, so she let the words hang between them.

"I won't, I promise."

And she believed him.

Because when it came down to it, he was nothing like Jay. Jay who had lied to her and manipulated her from the very start, who'd made her feel small and wrong in so many ways, making her doubt herself and her decisions until she had no confidence left. That wasn't what Leandro had wanted to do. He'd probably thought he was being romantic, like with the dresses the night before.

It made her wonder, was he always like this? In relationships, was he always so generous and focused? She felt as though she had the full force of his attention, and it was like being in a delicious spotlight. But the spotlight would move on soon enough, and then what?

She'd be cold.

The thought came to her out of nowhere. She tilted her gaze towards the skyline, staring out at the buildings with a thudding heart. This wasn't real. It was all make-believe. From the beginning they'd said this thing had no future. Neither of them wanted that.

Skye had chosen to be single not just because of Jay's controlling ultimatum and blackmail, but because she would never again risk putting her heart in another man's hands. She couldn't. She didn't think she'd survive anything like that again.

So short term was good.

Temporary was fine.

She wouldn't be cold, she'd be alone, but she'd be strong, just like before. She had to be.