200 Harley Street. Lynne MarshallЧитать онлайн книгу.
own father’s less than complimentary description of Leo’s mother, though she could hardly say that now, but Leo got in first.
‘My parents’ marriage was a disaster. Not to the outside world at first, but they soon got to see it, warts and all. You really don’t know about them?’ Leo asked, and Lizzie admitted to having done a little research before plucking up the courage to ring him. ‘I read his obituary.’
‘Obituaries tend to gloss over certain things. Yes, the Hunter name was prestigious, yes, we catered to the rich and wealthy and had a stunning reputation, till my father forgot to leave the less pleasant side of his personality at home.’
He didn’t mean to elaborate further, he had already said far more than he usually did, but, yes, Leo told himself, it had been a long day and so he continued.
‘You know how people say they build a place from nothing?’ He looked directly at her and normally she averted her eyes but tonight she felt as if she was looking at the real Leo Hunter and instead of looking away she nodded.
‘I built this from less than nothing. Not that your lover seems very impressed …’
Had she agreed to lunch he’d have asked the question far more nicely. Instead, his eyes were just a touch accusing as he awaited her response.
‘He’s not my lover.’
‘Has he ever been?’
‘No! Anyway, what is it to you?’ Her voice trailed off because it was a stupid question, a very stupid question given the attraction crackling between herself and Leo, and this time Lizzie did pull her eyes away. ‘What is it with you and Ethan?’ In a desperate attempt to distract Leo from her previous question, she asked what few would dare. Something needed to be said—even Ethan had joked that he had thought his days of unexploded land mines were over. ‘Why don’t the two of you get on?’
‘Is that the head nurse asking?’
‘No,’ Lizzie said. ‘It’s me.’
He wanted to tell her, or maybe he just needed to speak with someone, Leo rationalised, because having Ethan working here was proving way harder than he had thought it would. He felt as if someone had taken a rake through the clinic and turfed every inch of it. The only thing that had made coming to work bearable lately was sitting in front of him now.
‘All the time we were growing up—’ Leo was clearly uncomfortable discussing it ‘—I did everything I could to appease my father. I guess that’s the best way to describe it. He was a mean drunk and for all our mother’s dazzling ways she wasn’t exactly a stable parent—there were endless parties, affairs, all glossed over, of course. After our mother died there could be no glossing over. It just got worse.’
‘His drinking?’
‘That and the moods and the anger. Ethan loves confrontation, I rely on smooth talk …’
‘I had noticed.’
He gave a thin smile. ‘I spent my life trying to keep him calm, trying to smooth things over, stop the whole thing from exploding, and Ethan loathes me for it.’
‘Why were you the peacekeeper?’
‘Honestly?’ Leo asked, and Lizzie nodded. ‘If confronted, I thought my father might kill him.’
Lizzie swallowed. It was just so far from the love she had known growing up.
‘I remember one time when I was thirteen and we were home for the school holidays.’ Leo shook his head, not wanting to go there ever again. ‘Ethan was ten years old!’ He offered little by way of explanation but the agony was clear. ‘That was no match for my father in a rage.’
‘Ethan needs to get over himself,’ Lizzie said. ‘He’s lucky to have had an older brother looking out for him—who would light the tail of a lion and send someone they love in to deal with it.’
‘I guess.’ Leo pondered on that for a moment then pulled his phone from his pocket. ‘I’d better ring Francesca’s niece and then Geoff.’
‘I’ll go when you’ve rung Amelia.’
She waited while he made the call and it was clear even from the one-sided conversation that Francesca was doing well, though she was being carefully monitored in ICU and given medication to disperse the clots.
‘I’m so pleased to hear she’s improving,’ Leo said to Francesca’s niece. ‘Let her know that I’ll come in and visit …’ He chatted a moment longer and then ended the call.
‘She’s stable.’
‘I heard,’ Lizzie said. ‘That’s great news.’
‘Tony’s on his way!’ Leo grinned. ‘Things looked pretty grim for a while when we first got to Kate’s and Amelia ended up calling him and he wants to see her. I doubt Francesca will be too pleased! She’s certainly looking nothing like she’d hoped to for the wedding.’
‘You really do have a soft spot for her.’
‘I do.’ Leo nodded. ‘She’s got the same name as my mother—who I’m turning into, apparently …’ He gave a black smile. ‘She was a bit of a party girl and, as I said, there were a lot of affairs.’
‘That sounds like one of Ethan’s comparisons,’ Lizzie said, and Leo’s eyes jerked up.
‘Actually, it was.’
‘You’re not married, Leo. You’re not being unfaithful to anyone.’
‘Just a top bastard.’
‘I was wrong about that,’ Lizzie admitted. ‘It was Flora who got the wrong idea about things. From what I’ve heard since then, you don’t make any promises that you don’t keep.’
‘Never,’ Leo said, and he watched the swallow in her throat as he spelt things out, as he always had and always would. ‘I’ll never have an affair because I’ll never be with one person long enough. I’ve seen first hand what a bad relationship can do.’
‘There are good ones too.’
‘I have no intention of finding out,’ Leo dismissed. ‘I like the nice things in life,’ he continued. ‘I don’t wait for things to turn sour.’
Her eyes never left his face as she stood up.
‘I’m going to go,’ Lizzie said.
‘Sure—I need to ring Geoff.’
He didn’t blame her in the least for going—he had pretty much told her how they would be and he didn’t blame Lizzie in the least for wanting no part of it.
He just didn’t want her to go.
‘Night, Leo …’
‘I’ll walk you out,’ Leo offered, standing up to do just that.
‘There’s no need.’
She should go, simply walk, yet instead she stood there. Lizzie didn’t do mixed messages but Leo was certainly mixing her up.
‘ Night, Lizzie.’
When still she didn’t move his hand lifted to her cheek and Lizzie had plenty of time to turn but instead her cheek met his skin and moved into it like a cat nudging his palm.
‘You should go,’ Leo warned, but his hand remained.
‘I am going,’ Lizzie said. ‘But first …’
Lizzie had never made first moves, always she held back, but tonight she did not. Slowly, softly she touched her lips to his.
His hand slid to her waist and her mouth opened, and the first taste of his tongue was more potent than brandy. It warmed but it did not comfort; instead, it made her crave. It was a kiss that lingered and with reason—for Leo, never had the darkness been lit by a kiss.
She