One Hour to Midnight (25 page)

She picked up the speaking tube and indicated his game.
 
"Hi, having fun?"

"Yeah." His face lit up. "I've got some really high scores in this one. It's my favourite."

He leaned forward, and showed her the paused game, the one with the deep sea divers battling it out under water.
 

"It's not too hard?" She leaned close to the isolation tent so she could see the game through the clear plastic, so close their heads almost touched.
 

"Heck, no." His animated smile soothed a tender ache in her breast.
 

Veronica took the photos she'd taken of Mutley from her purse. She'd sorted out a couple with no revealing images of Claremont in the background. Remembering how upset Jordan had been when she'd mentioned dirt bikes, she knew he didn't need anything to make him homesick.
 

"What are those?'
 

"Photos of Mutley. Do you want to see them?"

"Yeah." Jordan leaned forward his expression eager. Veronica fanned the photos out so he could see them through the side of his bubble.

"He's huge."
 

"He's always been a big cat." Veronica laughed. "He's also a crafty and not above stealing my food."

"He's so cool." Jordan looked from the photos to her, his eyes shining. "We've never had any pets."

As Veronica looked into the eyes she saw every day in the mirror, a soothing balm settled over the cracks in her shattered heart.

"Mutley doesn't think he's a pet." She laughed softly. "He thinks he owns you."

About to elaborate, she remembered. Jordan didn't know she was at Claremont, or married to his father.

Dad says it's wrong to lie.
 

With Jordan's words echoing in her ears, she took care to edit her words. The last thing she wanted was to be proven a liar to the boy who was fast becoming the centre of her world.
   

 
"I'm so sick of being in here." Jordan looked up from the photos, eyes stormy. "I want to go home."

Veronica's heart raced, had she made a mistake bringing Jordan these photos? But then knew that in rebelling against the restrictions of his illness, Jordan was so much stronger.

Just a few short weeks ago he'd been too sick to care.

"Of course you do," she said in a comforting murmur. "Professor Carey is pleased with your progress. You just have to be patient."
 

"I don't want to be patient."

His petulant expression made Veronica chuckle. Today he looked just like any normal ten-year old boy, disgruntled with life.
 

Normal in Jordan's case was nothing short of a miracle.

She sincerely regretted Leon's absence. He should be here sharing this wonderful moment.
 

"You keep making progress and you'll be out of here before you know it."
 

Jordan looked past her and beamed. Veronica turned just as Leon gripped her shoulder. She looked up at him and her heart stopped a moment and then raced at a mile a minute. The expression in his eyes made her tremble.

"Hello," he said his hand firm on her shoulder. "Missed me?"

Missed him?
 

Veronica couldn't help grinning. That huge house echoed without him. And that big bed—Yeah! She missed him, much more than she realised.

He picked up the tube and spoke to Jordan, his smile wide. "Hi, son, Prof Carey says you'll be able to get out of your bubble later this afternoon and if you keep on making progress you can come home sometime next week."
 

Acutely aware of the pressure of Leon's hand, Veronica was content to watch the interaction between father and son.

"Really? That soon?" Veronica looked up at Leon filled with excitement. Leon glanced down at her and his lazy smile made her heart leap in her chest.
 

She was acting like a love struck teen!

On their return to Claremont, Veronica received a further surprise.

All her books and personal possessions from her Albany cottage were stacked in boxes in the Blue Room. "How did these get here?"

"I brought them with me on the plane," Leon said laconically as he poured a cup of tea from the trolley Cassie wheeled in. "I've also had your furniture shipped and leased the cottage."

Veronica stared at him, so flabbergasted she couldn't think of a single thing to say.
 

This unilateral decision left her winded.

What did he think she was?
Some mindless bimbo?

"You brought them?" she asked carefully, eyes narrowed. "You've been to Auckland? You've packed up my things and leased my house?"

Anger fizzed and burned growing in intensity.

It was her house, her belongings and yet Leon had not even given her the courtesy of asking her permission.
 

"You needed your personal belongings." Leon calmly sat down in the other armchair. He looked at Mutley curled up on her lap. "Don't tell me you're not pleased to see your feline friend?"

Veronica carefully slid Mutley off her lap and stood up. "That's got nothing to do with it."

Leon looked at her, eyes narrowed to grey slits. "Then what's got your knickers in a twist?"

She paced, anger at his highhanded actions expanding into rage. They may be married, but did that give him the right to sort through her personal possessions without her permission?
 

"My knickers are not twisted," she said through clenched teeth. "You have no right to touch my things without consulting me. It's an infringement on my privacy."

Leon put his cup down with a decided clink.
 

"And here's me thinking you'd be pleased to be reunited with your belongings."
 

"That's not the issue." She stepped towards him vibrating with anger. "I resent being treated like some mindless puppet."

His derisive snort of laughter stoked her temper.

"You're far from a mindless puppet. You're a stubborn, opinionated little minx." He raked a hand through his hair leaving it disordered. "But then you always have been."

The words sat between them with all the tension of an unexploded bomb.

"And what do you mean by that crack?" She stepped closer hands clenched so tightly the knuckles gleamed white.

"You, Veronica, have caused more dissension in the Karvasis family in eleven years than in all the preceding two hundred years put together."
 

She gave a scornful bark of laughter. "In your dreams."

"Not just my dreams, Veronica." He leaned closer, the fire in his eyes burning holes in her psyche. "You had my brother twisted in bloody knots."

His words hit her with the force of a punch in the solar plexus. Suddenly, inexplicably Yannis was there between them, a solid presence in the quiet room. As he'd done the other night, Leon deliberately placed his brother between them.
 

Why?

Then she remembered that photo of Yannis in the credenza and had her answer.
 

Dear God, why hadn't she got rid of that last trace of Julia's malice? To her, that photo was a visible reminder Jordan was unreachable. Her heart thumped and then began to race. "Just what are you accusing me of, Leon?"

"Do you expect me to forget it was primarily over your sweet, innocent face that my brother committed suicide, because I haven't!"

Veronica pulled away from him. She didn't think her heart could beat faster but it thrummed a frantic tattoo in her chest. What was Leon implying?
 

"I didn't know your brother was a married man," she said in a suffocated voice. Her palms damp with dread and anger.
 

"So you say," Leon retorted grimly. "Given your age, I'm prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt, but—"

When he stopped she stared at him for a few tense moments and then prodded. "Don't stop there, Leon."

He rounded on her, his voice cold and lethal, grey eyes glittering in his pallid features. He stepped closer and Veronica had to tilt her head to meet his eyes.
 

 
"You may not have known Yannis was married but you knew damn well I was a married man when you set to work and tried to tie me in knots as well. You deliberately set out to break up my marriage."
 

"That's a lie!" She glared at him.
 

But Julia's words ghosted through her memory with uncanny accuracy.
You deserve to be alone, your punishment for breaking up a marriage
.
 

Julia and Leon's marriage? Horror blindsided Veronica.

"Is it?" Leon faced her, his voice soft and lethal in its precision. "Since returning here, you've blamed Julia for the hard decisions you were forced to make. If there's any blame, it rests at your door, Veronica, not Julia's."

He gripped her chin tilting her face up, forcing her to meet his gaze. She shivered at the anger she saw reflected in his eyes.

"You arrived here, young, nubile and pregnant, and rubbed salt in a very raw wound. Julia was told a month before you arrived she would never conceive. When you realised the enormity of your situation, and marriage with Yannis would never happen, you set about finding a replacement and looked in my direction."

Ice flowed through Veronica's veins and lodged in her heart. "I never—"

"You did." Leon cut off her denial.

He released her chin and paced across the room, turning to face her.
 

"It was nothing obvious. You came to me for comfort. You sought me out for advice. In your excitement at the baby moving, you held my hands on your pregnant belly. Your actions while innocent enough stoked Julia's jealousy to white heat and rubbed her nose in her infertility."

A fiery surge of heat flooded Veronica's entire body. She trembled from head to foot. Those things had happened.

"I never meant to," she stammered.

"Maybe you didn't. But come between us you did. Let me tell you, Veronica Langdon, Julia and I came too damn close to a divorce over you. Would you have cried if we'd split? I don't think so."

Veronica lifted hands to her hot cheeks, mortified.

"If you felt like that, why ask me to marry you?" she asked in a choked voice.

Leon titled his head as he looked at her.
 
His whole stance radiated menace, pride and some other unfathomable emotion.
 

"You've given Jordan a chance of life. Another baby will ensure it." Leon had never pulled his punches and made no attempt to do so now. "I'd been without a woman for years and we are good in bed."

I did ask?

 
Veronica stared at him, stricken.
 

Is this how he sees me? A willing bed mate and someone who can give him children?
 

His cruel words cut her to the heart. With a choked cry she turned on her heel and fled from the room.
 

As she prepared for bed, his words echoed in her mind and like a snowball, gathered force with each repetition.
 

His accusations had stripped her pride and her heart bare.
 

Leon didn't love her, and what's more, he wouldn't allow himself to her love her.
 

Why did I ever think this marriage would work?
 

No way was she sleeping with him.
 

Curled up in a tight ball in the centre of her own bed, with a shiver, Veronica knew she'd done the unthinkable.
 

She'd fallen fathoms deep in love with him. Her juvenile crush had morphed into an emotion capable of crippling her.
 

Suddenly, the blankets were stripped back.

Leon loomed over her. "Why are you huddled here? You belong in my bed."

Strong, powerful arms lifted her and carried her through to his room. He tossed her on the bed and followed her down pinning her there by his superior weight.
 

"This was my stipulation in our marriage agreement. Or have you forgotten?"

"I didn't know then that you despised me."
 

She struggled against him but it was futile, he was far too strong.

"What does that have to do with this?" He kissed her with ruthless intent, plundering her mouth until she lay pliant in his arms.

"I hate you," she whispered, glaring at him when he lifted his head.

 
"Do you? I don't think so." He laughed softly, his smile one of smug, masculine satisfaction. "Making love with you, Vic, doesn't necessarily involve liking you."

She stiffened in his arms, her heart and mind icing over.

From somewhere she dredged up the remnants of her battered pride. She angled her chin and said haughtily, "Then let's get it over with, so I can at least get some sleep."