Chapter 9

IT WAS ENTIRELY SURREAL to be sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, playing a game of tea parties with Harper only to have Leandro walk in. A few nights ago, he'd greeted her at the door by pulling her against him and kissing her passionately, and now he was walking into a full-blown domestic situation.

But if it bothered him, he didn't show it. He smiled easily at Harper, and Skye tried not to let that soften her heart. Because he made her pulse rush as a man, she didn't want to also see him as someone who was great with kids. It made him somehow too perfect, and she knew there was no such thing. Nobody was perfect. She'd never be stupid enough to believe that again.

He was carrying a bag and he crouched down beside Harper and Skye, so her eyes were drawn to the way his fabric stretched across his powerful haunches and her mouth went dry. "For you, signorina." He passed the bag to Harper who took it with a gleeful giggle.

"Sinnamina, sinnamina," she repeated incorrectly.

"Signorina," he said slowly.

She tried again, this time with more accuracy.

"What is it, Harps?"

The little girl's hands were so small, her fingers still covered in that extra layer of toddler chub. Skye watched as she reached into the bag and pulled out something that was almost as big as her.

"A dolly!" She squealed.

Skye's jaw dropped. She knew how much these particular dolls cost. Of course that's what Leandro had bought her. And not just the doll, but a whole range of accessories too.

Only, seeing the look of pure joy on Harper's face, how could Skye object?

"That's very generous of you," Skye said quietly.

"Di niente," he waved away her thanks.

"Show Jane!" Harper exclaimed excitedly, putting paid to any thoughts Skye had about whether or not the nanny was working out. Harper adored her.

She went careening off down the corridor in search of her new best friend, leaving a bemused Skye staring at Leandro.

"You didn't have to do that."

"I know." He reached out and took her hand, pulling her to standing as he stood. "I got something for you too."

"Leandro," she sighed. "You have to stop."

"You haven't even seen it."

"No, but…" at his look though, she found herself relenting. "Okay. What is it?"

He grinned.

"Two somethings," he corrected, reaching into the pocket of his suit and removing an envelope first and handing it to her. She opened it curiously, only to see tickets to a Broadway show for that evening.

"I've never been to a Broadway show," she confessed.

He arched a brow. "And you call yourself a New Yorker?"

Excitement buzzed in the pit of her stomach even when she wondered if she should demur. He was being too over the top, doing too much, gifting too much.

"And then there's this."

He removed something else, this time, a velvet pouch. She looked at it, frowning.

"What is it?"

"Have a look."

She opened the pouch, then tipped the contents into the palm of her hand. A delicate necklace with diamonds glittered back at her.

"They can't be real?" She murmured, lifting it up and finding her mouth dry, her throat thick.

"Can't they?"

"Leandro," she said, scandalized. "It's way too much."

"No," he shook his head, taking the necklace from her and coming to stand behind her. "It is something you deserve."

"But it's too much."

"I saw it and thought of you. The sparkles. And when I am gone, and you have all but forgotten my name, you can wear this and remember."

When I am gone.

A hollowness filled her chest. She blinked quickly, surprised by the sting of emotion in her eyes. She lifted her fingers, feeling the delicate thread of diamonds.

When Jay had first met her, he'd been extravagant too, but somehow, it had been so different. He'd given with the expectation of receiving in return, of making Skye submissive to him in some way. Leandro gave because he wanted to gift, he gave without any promises. Except that he would leave. That nothing between them changed.

"Is this what it's like for you?" She asked, turning around to face him, finding them standing toe to toe.

He was so close. When their eyes met, she felt a rush of need, of awareness and passion.

"Relationships?"

She nodded.

He didn't answer straight away; he looked thoughtful.

"I mean the gifts," she explained, when the silence grew uncomfortable for Skye. "Do you shower the women you sleep with in diamonds as a matter of course?"

"There is no matter of course," he said without giving anything away. "Everyone is different."

"So there's no third date necklace pre-requisite?" She asked in a light-hearted voice to disguise how much she wanted to know the truth.

"Nothing so prescriptive," he assured her, as though that would make all the difference. It didn't tell her anything though.

"Then what is it usually like for you?"

"What do you want to know, Skye?"

Everything.

"I've never dated anyone like you before," she said. "You inhabit a completely different world to me. You're so wealthy, powerful, you can have anything you want at the drop of a hat. Is that what the women you date are like too?"

His expression was hard to interpret. He wasn't comfortable with the conversation. Because it was too personal? Or because he was worried about offending her?

"I'm not bothered," she assured him, wondering why that didn't feel completely true. "We both came into this with history. And besides, we know where it's going. In a few days, you'll be gone."

His eyes locked to hers, as if he was looking right through her.

"Generally, I suppose, I date women who live in a similar way to me, si."

"I see."

"It's just how it happened. It's who I'm exposed to, who I spend time with."

"Has there been anyone significant?"

His lips tugged downwards. She waited for him to demur, to put her off with some line about not wanting to talk about it, but instead, he said, "No. I have dated some women for longer than others, but none in a way that ever really mattered."

The hollowness in her chest was back, but bigger now. Was she the same as them? Was it his gift in life to make a woman feel as though she were the most special thing in the world and then disappear? Because none of this mattered?

"I'd better go check on Harps," she said, taking a step away from him, unable to completely erase the frown from her face. "Thanks again for this," she gestured to the necklace, and the tickets. "It was very thoughtful of you."

But you're different.This is different.

The words had burst through him like rays of sunshine from behind the clouds. The assurance to her that this wasn't meaningless felt so imperative, so important. Only he hadn't said that. He couldn't. Because in essence, she was the same as anyone else he'd dated. There was no future for them. Nothing beyond this week.

He liked her.

He loved spending time with her.

He loved sleeping with her.

He loved the way she was with her daughter.

But there was no way he was going to get involved with anyone right now. Her life was in a state of upheaval, and the best thing he could do was support her through that. His own life was a complete mess and working his way through that had to be a priority. There were a million reasons why this wouldn't work long term, so telling her she was different would only confuse matters.

He hated it though. Hated to think of her believing that she was just like any of the women in his past. Hated to think she couldn't see that this was rare. Their connection wasn't like anything he'd ever experienced.

Was that because of what he'd been through though? Was he in such free-fall because of his adoption discovery that he was latching onto someone—something—in the hopes it would anchor him back?

Perhaps.

It made sense.

It made more sense than…he ignored the alternative. There was no future here. They had a clear-cut agreement about that, the perfect arrangement, and he wasn't about to mess it up. He'd promised Skye he wouldn't hurt her, and he'd meant it. There'd be no mixed messages from him—they were this. A perfect, sublime, sensual week, and nothing more. He was in no headspace to offer more, and he knew he'd regret it if he did. Better to leave things as they were and move on with his life when the time came.

When Skye had toldHarper she was going to see a show, Harper had wanted to dress up like mummy, so they'd gotten ready together. Harper had chosen her best tutu dress and had wanted her hair pulled up in a bun, like mummy's. Skye loved every moment. At two, Harper had already grown so much, Skye could see how fast time was going. She wanted to hold onto every moment she possibly could. When Skye put on a minimal amount of makeup, Harper said, "Me too!" so Skye chose a gloss and carefully applied it to her daughter's lips, laughing at the way Harper posed in the mirror.

"You are too much, missy moo."

"Too much!" Harper repeated gleefully.

Skye took the briefest of moments to check her own appearance. She wore the second dress Leandro had given her, as well as the necklace and the heels, and the only bag she owned that wasn't an oversized tote. It was a small leather clutch, and she'd had it for years, but that didn't matter. Wearing diamonds like this, no one would be looking at the bag. Her blonde hair was in a ballet style bun, with some tendrils loose around her face, and when she stepped into the living room, she was holding Harper's hand in her own.

Leandro was on the phone on the terrace when they emerged, but he still saw the moment Skye lifted her hand for Harper to do a little twirl underneath it, as though she were a ballerina in a show. He also saw the way Skye laughed then scooped down and lifted the little girl into a hug, spinning her around in the air before replacing her on the tiled floor.

"I have to go."

"Please don't hang up, Leo, my love," his mother pleaded. "You know we have to talk about this."

"Yes," he grunted in response. "We do. But I'm not ready yet."

His mother was quiet, processing this. "We love you, darling boy. We loved you the first moment we saw you. I didn't give birth to you, but in every way that matters you are my son."

"I'm not questioning that," he said. "But I cannot fathom why this was kept secret from me. Why was I raised to believe one thing, only to discover another is true?"

His mother was silent and at that moment, Harper saw him through the glass and waved one of those adorable little arms, her smile wide and spontaneous, dimples forming in both cheeks, just like Skye.

"We will talk," he said after a beat. "But not yet. I can't."

He disconnected the call and focused on the night ahead, on the uncomplicated happiness he felt when he was with Skye, and even Harper. He knew he couldn't ignore his situation much longer. He knew he was escaping reality here, with them, but he didn't care. Right now, they were just the balm his soul needed, and he wouldn't change a damned thing.

Aware that time was all too precious, he stepped inside and let Harper do a ballet twirl beneath his arm, just as Skye had, receiving rapturous giggles from the toddler—a sound of such unadulterated happiness that he knew he'd always remember it.

"You're very good with her,"Skye said, as Alec drove them in the direction of Broadway.

He turned to face her, wishing that instead of going to a show, they'd just locked the door on his bedroom and spent the night in. Did she have any idea how great she looked? How hard he was finding it to keep his eyes off her?

"She's a sweet child."

Skye smiled. "She is very sweet."

"She's like you."

"She's way sweeter," she replied, laughing a little. "Harper has never had a bad thought about anyone in her life. She is pure sunshine."

"And you're not?"

"Definitely not."

"I'd disagree with that assessment."

"Maybe I used to be," she said, lips pulling to the side. "Before. But that was the old me."

"And the new you?"

"Is more of a realist. I guess I have Jay to thank for that. I used to see only the best in people, but that's so facile and reductive. After Jay, I find it a lot harder to trust. I don't want to trust."

Which explained why she'd been so hesitant to accept his help, even when she had so few options.

"But I was talking about you, anyway," she said, and the words held a layer of frustration. "You're comfortable with Harper, and it makes me wonder if you have kids in your life?"

His eyes met hers and he wondered at the way she did this—asked questions that he wanted to answer, even when he'd promised himself he would keep his private life walled away from this. He didn't want to think about everything he'd known before the revelation. It all felt different now, it was all part of the same darkness that he was resisting.

"None in my family," he said, turning back to the front window and taking stock of where they were. Not far from their destination.

Skye sighed beside him, but she wasn't deterred, evidently. "There must be some kids in your life?"

She wasn't going to let it go. In the sparest of ways he said, "The children of friends."

Another small sigh, and this time, Skye turned and looked out the window, her body tense. It was the last thing he wanted. Somewhere along the way, he'd decided he wanted to give her everything she'd never known. He wanted to spoil her. Because he could, because it was easy and because she deserved that.

He reached out and put a hand on hers. "I know it bothers you, and I know why. But I need to keep my worlds separate."

She turned back to him, her eyes scanning his face, and he felt the rejection of his words, worried that she was going to reject his sentiment and then all of him, knowing he wasn't ready to let this end yet. Even though it was only a matter of days, he wanted every last minute they had together.

"Fine," she smiled but it was brittle.

He pretended not to notice, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss there. "Thank you."

She blinked away from him, but not before he caught the frown on her face. A moment later, she withdrew her hand, flexed her fingers.

He smothered his own sigh, and a pervasive feeling of frustration, and tried to just enjoy the night ahead.

On Leandro'slast night in New York, Skye couldn't ignore the growing sense of impending doom. Not doom, perhaps, but sadness.

She was existing in a strange unreality.

She didn't want a relationship—she couldn't commit to anyone. Not after Jay. She couldn't trust another person. She just wanted to focus on Harper, on being the best mom she could. But at the same time, what if he was different? Different not just to Jay but to any man in the world?

He had shown himself to be considerate, thoughtful, respectful.

Was she being an idiot not to fight for more? Not to at least mention the possibility of seeing one another again?

And what happened next? She would go home, and Jay would be a threat in the back of her mind when she got there—but at least now she had the backing of powerful lawyers to help her in that department.

But how could she just go back to her normal life, a life without Leandro in it?

It had all seemed like such a simple proposition in the beginning, but then, she hadn't known. She hadn't understood.

They'd made an agreement, an agreement to protect both of them, and no matter how she might feel now, he had shown no signs of changing his mind. He had still been like a locked box when it came to sharing his life, so it was pretty clear that he didn't really see Skye as anything other than a ‘distraction'. An escape from his regular life. Of which she had no part.

"You're in another world," he murmured, coming up behind her and kissing her nape. Harper had been in bed for hours, Jane had disappeared to her room. They were alone.

Tell him you don't want this to be over.

The voice in her head was insistent, but she ignored it. She knew what he'd say. He had a life to return to. Things to sort out. This was temporary. She was meaningless, just like the other women he'd dated. She wouldn't show him how unsophisticated she was by begging for more.

It was for the best.

Only, as she turned in the circle of his arms and kissed him properly, she felt parts of her lock into place that she hadn't even been aware she possessed. She felt her whole body come together differently. How could she possibly accept the end was at hand?