Page 28 of The Secret Sanchez Heir
Leandro gazed down at Sam and Abigail gazed furtively at Leandro. The only light in the room came from a tiny night light. Her heart clenched, for this was what it looked like to see him shorn of his toughness. His face was softened in the mellow glow. He had never looked at her like that, with open tenderness, and once upon a time she might have thought that he was incapable of that depth of emotion. He wasn’t. She squeezed his arm and he glanced across at her.
She padded down to the kitchen, where food had been prepared for them by the housekeeper who came in daily to make sure that the apartment always resembled something you would see in a fancy interior-design magazine.
For some reason, the thought of leaving London made her feel all shaken up. She had burrowed into a comfort zone here, in this apartment, with one foot still connected to her old life working at the jewellery store and another placed squarely here, surrounded by this unbelievable luxury.
But now everything was changing and that unsettled her. The future seemed shakier than ever and she realised that, without even being aware of it, she had rooted herself into the pretence of thinking that what they had was a real relationship instead of a stitched-together one for the sake of their child. She had subconsciously latched on to the changes she had seen in Leandro—his attentiveness, his consideration, his real efforts at being a dad—and had translated them into something they weren’t.
Not once had he ever expressed any feelings towards her. He knew how to make her feel sexy, and he was eloquent on the subject of her physical attributes and what effect they had on him, but that was where it all ended.
Now, she would be moving out of London, giving up her job, and whatever Leandro said now about being able to handle the commute she knew that it wouldn’t be long before he settled into a pattern of overnighting at the apartment when he had to work late. And how long before he was tempted to relax in his apartment with a woman to massage away the stress of the day?
Of course, he would still see Sam, but it wouldn’t be long before he would suggest having Sam on his own, and by then Sam would be old enough to stay overnight with him.
Abigail knew that she should be taking one day at a time instead of projecting down the road but, as she began dealing with the food that had been prepared, she could feel a thousand possible scenarios zipping in and out of her mind like angry, buzzing wasps.
She surfaced to find Leandro lounging in the doorway, arms folded, his amazing eyes fastened to her face.
‘Spit it out,’ he said without preamble. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing!’
‘Then why are you looking as though you’ve suddenly realised that the sky might start falling down?’
He strolled towards her but before she could scrabble to provide a reason for her sudden, unexpected shift of mood his mobile phone buzzed in his pocket and he held up one hand to silence her.
Standing only inches away from him, Abigail heard a woman’s voice and all the fears which had been playing out in her head congealed into the certainty that this was why Leandro was suddenly so keen to shift her out of London to the house of her dreams.
Not only was he talking to a woman, but he had lowered his voice and was leaving the kitchen.
He was on the phone to a woman and he didn’t want her to overhear the conversation.
Gripped with a sickening sense of apprehension, she remained glued to the spot until he reappeared in under five minutes, shoving the phone back into his pocket as he strode back into the kitchen. He should have been looking as guilty as the worst of sinners but there wasn’t a trace of guilt etched on those devastating features.
Abigail kicked herself for even thinking that she should expect him to feel guilty because he had been talking to a woman on the phone, having an intimate conversation he hadn’t wanted her to overhear. But still...
‘Who was that?’ she was horrified to hear herself ask, in an accusatory voice, and Leandro stilled and looked at her with veiled eyes.
Every instinct in him rallied and railed against the querulous note in her voice. ‘No one that should concern you,’ he offered coolly.
Trembling, because as fast as that he had become a stranger just because she had asked him something he hadn’t wanted to hear, Abigail dug her heels in and stood her ground.
‘You were talking to a woman,’ she flung at him.
‘I do not want to get into this, Abigail.’
‘But you were, weren’t you?’
‘Would you say that that’s a crime?’ Leandro asked tautly. Unaccustomed to having to justify his behaviour, he had reverted to type. Did he want to argue with her? No. ‘You need to calm down and not over-excite yourself about it.’
‘Who was she?’ Abigail demanded. ‘No!’ She held up an imperious hand, shaking like an engine at full throttle. ‘Don’t bother telling me. You don’t have to. You can do exactly as you please. I don’t care!’
‘Don’t you?’ he asked with considerable intent, eyes narrowed on her flushed face.
‘Of course I don’t!’ She spun away to gather herself, took a few deep breaths and then looked at him with a lot more control than she felt. ‘I apologise for having questioned you,’ she offered. ‘We don’t owe one another anything and I realise that.’
‘Even though we’re lovers?’ Leandro questioned and she waved that aside.
‘We both know that that doesn’t mean anything.’ She cleared her throat. ‘You can do as you please.’
