One Hour to Midnight (18 page)

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Authors: Shirley Wine

BOOK: One Hour to Midnight
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"Of course I'll read to you." She picked up the book on the bedside locker. "This one?"

"Yeah." He yawned and scrubbed at his eyes.
 

 
As she settled in to read about the adventures of the boy wizard, Veronica sensed she'd passed some stringent test. She read for close on an hour before Jordan's nurse came in and changed his drip bottle and gave him a sedative.

Veronica placed a bookmark in the book and stood up.
 

"I'll say goodnight. Sleep well, Jordan," she said smoothing a wayward lock of hair off his forehead.
   

"Night, Vic." He gave her a sleepy smile and his eyelids fluttered down onto his hollow cheeks.

On impulse she leaned down and feathered a kiss on his brow. For long moments she watched him before slipping from the room.
 

Back at Claremont, the house was as quiet as a tomb and eerily empty.

Cassie had retired to her cottage. All other domestic staff were off duty and off the premises. Years ago, Julia had informed her Leon refused to have live-in staff. He valued his privacy. Now, Veronica was here alone, rattling around this huge, empty mansion.

It was an uncanny sensation.

 
Restless, she prowled through the house. In the spacious formal reception room, she flicked on the lights. A faint trace of lemon scented polish was the only sign of life.
 

A huge portrait of Julia in her wedding gown, hanging above the white stone fireplace, surveyed the almost regal splendour of the white on white decor.

White walls, pale off white carpet, distressed white French style furniture. The only colour was the delicate turquoise pattern on the white drapes. In one corner, a love seat and two tub chairs were upholstered in a turquoise accented tapestry, and on a white sofa one turquoise cushion nestled among its white cousins.

Veronica tried to imagine a robust ten-year-old boy rushing into this room after spending a day in the bush, hooning around on his dirt-bike—and came up hopelessly short. Or Leon unknotting his tie and relaxing with a whiskey in one of those delicate chairs?

She shook her head.

Heck, it took all her self-restraint not to check her clothes and shoes were clean enough to enter the room.
 

Her gaze gravitated towards the huge portrait of Julia. Dressed in white, she suited the chilly, sterile room. Veronica loved clean, airy surroundings but this décor gave her the shivers. It was irrational, but she was sure those blue eyes followed her every move, and did not approve.

Veronica's gaze landed on the grand piano and its array of portraits. And with another convulsive shiver, she switched off the lights and left the room to Julia.

The other reception rooms were just as oppressive.

She went next to the library. Its floor to ceiling bookshelves, comfortable leather armchairs and the large oak desk had a more lived-in air. She could imagine Leon relaxing in here with a whiskey after a hard day in the office.

Veronica searched the bookshelves looking for something to read, and then decided she wasn't in the mood and prowled back through the empty rooms.

The one room she hadn't found was Leon's. Where did he sleep?

Curiosity put a spring in her step.
 

She wasn't snooping, Leon had invited her to explore.

Her footsteps led her back to Jordan's room. She picked up the teddy she'd earlier placed on his pillow and held it against her cheek. It was a comfort to know Jordan had treasured her gift. The bear's threadbare appearance was that of a much loved confidant. Holding it comforted her now, and she carried it with her as she walked into the corridor and opened the door opposite.

This was Leon's room.

A jacket lay on the back of a chair. The shirt he'd worn earlier was lying across the end of the bed.
 
On a polished table beside a comfortable recliner, a silver tray held a crystal decanter of whiskey and glasses. Books and magazines filled a lower shelf.

Here was where Leon relaxed.

With the whole of this mansion at his disposal, Leon had chosen these rooms in the old part of the house for his lair.
 

Veronica walked into the room, picked up his shirt and buried her face in the fabric. The scent she associated with Leon filled her senses, woodsy pine cologne and the smoky, male musk of honest sweat.

On a startled indrawn breath, she realised this room must adjoin her own. She walked to the connecting door and turned the key.

The air left her lungs in a resounding whoosh.
 

She looked from the room she'd used both now and years ago, and then back at Leon's room. Furnished in a similar style both rooms and the sitting room, formed part of a private suite.

And he'd instructed Cassie to prepare that adjoining room for her.

Trying to assimilate this, Veronica carried the shirt through to the bathroom, put it in the linen hamper, before picking up his jacket, opening the cavernous wardrobe and hanging it on a hanger.

Veronica liked order and she'd done the wifely tasks automatically. And now, that instinctive action gave her pause.
 

Am I going to accept what Leon's offering?
 

Despite talking with Tania, Veronica hadn't consciously decided. A sigh trembled from her. She walked across to Leon's chair, poured a half glass of whiskey and sat down.

She sipped the whiskey; its smoky bite giving her much needed courage.
 

I will lay down my own stipulations. Leon won't have it all his own way
.
 

Savouring the whiskey, Veronica studied the room intently, not at all sure what she sought.
 
A key to the enigmatic man who'd treated her kindly when she was a pregnant teen? The passionate lover? Or perhaps the devoted father she knew he was?

 
She picked up a magazine and grimaced. It was a financial publication. Did the man eat and breathe finance? Restless, she put the empty glass on the tray, stood up and prowled across the room.

On the polished mahogany dresser was a photo of Leon and Julia on their wedding day. Veronica picked it up and studied it. If ever once, Leon looked at her in that way, she'd die a happy woman. Her hand shook as she replaced it.

Am I a fool, prepared to take crumbs from a man who's had a surfeit at the banquet table? Don't I deserve more than what Leon's offering?
 

 
Unsettled, she uncapped a bottle of cologne. The scent was so Leon she went weak at the knees.
   

It's more than I've ever had before.

And that was the crux of her dilemma.

What Leon was offering her was far more than she'd ever had. A real home, a sense of belonging, the chance to bond with the son she'd never stopped grieving and more babies to cherish.

Just imagining holding Leon's baby made her all warm and gooey inside.

Should she take what was on offer and trust that they could develop a deep, meaningful relationship?

She yawned. After a sleepless night, the worry about Jordan and the deepening of her relationship with Leon, she was tired. And it was late.

Should she wait up for Leon? And talk it over with him?

No, tomorrow was soon enough.

As Veronica prepared for bed, she wavered, first this way and then that.

Showered and changed, she walked to the connecting door to close it and then changed her mind. She scooped Jordan's teddy from her bed, walked through to Leon's bed, turned back the covers, slid into his bed and switched out the lights

 

~***~

 

Leon found Veronica in his bed when he returned from the meeting that had gone on until well after midnight. On the way home, he'd checked on Jordan and found his boy sleeping.
 

His nurse had mentioned that Veronica had spent more than an hour with Jordan reading to him. And now here she was curled up with Jordan's teddy in his bed.
 
She was just full of surprises.

He stood at the bedside, studying her.

Sleep softened the lines of pain around her tender mouth. Gone was the haunting sadness that clung to her like a cloak, closed eyelids hid the reproach in the depths of those expressive blue-green eyes. With her blonde hair spread over his pillow, hugging Jordan's teddy, Veronica barely looked old enough to be a mother.

Yet thanks to him and Julia, she was a mother, without a child.

Guilt ate at him.
 

Seeing her holding the teddy Veronica admitted she'd bought with what little money of her own she possessed, exacerbated his guilt.

If I'd sent it to Claremont, Julia would have made certain Jordan never saw it.

The teddy he'd brought home for Jordan.

Was Veronica right?

Of course she is. Isn't that why I never told Julia that Ricki had bought this teddy for her baby?

Unease was added to his guilt.
 

Veronica had borne the cost of his and Julia's dream. Now a marriage and a child with him would deny her of another dream. Marriage and children with a man she loved.
 

Leon knew he would never be that man.
 

He'd had his chance at love and the agony of that loss still haunted him. As he rubbed a tired hand over his eyes and wished there was another way.

Veronica had suffered far too much at the hands of his family.

And now, he was asking her to sacrifice even more? He deserved every ounce of her condemnation. Why had he not realised before, that in her desperation for a child, Julia had twisted his offers of help to Veronica?
 

Her shock had been too genuine for doubt.

It was not as if Cassie hadn't warned him. Guilt layered on guilt. It was eating him alive.
 

Leon wished he could ignore the memory of his brother's frantic voice.
 

Ignore the terrible secrets of Yannis's activities, secrets he'd never divulged.
 
Now it was too late.

And should Veronica ever learn Yannis's dastardly secrets it must surely cement her hatred of the Karvasis family in concrete.

Would he never be done cleaning up his brother's messes?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

"W
e have to stop meeting like this." Leon's soft words, underscored with humour, brought Veronica wide awake.
 

Startled, she turned her head and saw him leaning on his elbow, his head resting on his open palm. He was watching her, an amused smile softening his hard features.
 

A surge of heat suffused her face and she closed her eyes wishing she possessed the power to become invisible. Why had she succumbed to the temptation to sleep in his bed?

"It's not going to work, Veronica."
 

She opened her eyes and met his steady gaze. The unmistakable gleam of desire in their depths disturbed her on some primeval level. Drat the man. Did he have to look so good with that sexy stubble on his chin?

"I assume that as you decided to sleep in my bed, you've made up your mind?"

"Maybe." That was as close as she could come to an admission.

"What will it take to turn that maybe into a definite yes?" He laid his palm against her cheek and turned her face towards him, leaned forward and kissed her, his lips soft, so very tender and far too fleeting.

"Why did you do that?"

"Maybe because I wanted to," he said, smoothing a strand of hair back behind her ear. "Or maybe because you spent last evening reading to a lonely little boy."

"How is he?" The constant worry was an ever present burden. "And reading to Jordan was better than rattling around this mansion on my own."

 
"Scary isn't it? Jordan's in much better spirits this morning." Leon frowned. "He's having radiation later and I can't be with him during these sessions."
 

Veronica sensed this wasn't an idle comment.

"Have you decided yet?"

 
"I have." Sometime during the night she'd come to a decision. "I'll marry you, for Jordan's sake."

"Thank you." He leaned forward and kissed her, hard. For long, breathless moments her lips clung to his.
 

When he raised his head, she took a deep breath. "I have two provisos, Leon."

His expression changed, became much more guarded. "Such as?"

Veronica sat up and looped her arms around her knees, meeting his gaze steadily. "I insist on being married in church."

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