chirped up, and Helen turned scarlet and her new husband smiled, and today the smile did reach his knowing eyes, and made her blush even more.
‘Yes, well,’ Helen murmured, reaching the bottom of the stairs and giving Nicholas a big hug. ‘Now tell me all about your night away.’
Nicholas duly obliged while Anna served lunch and Helen’s tension eased somewhat. Afterwards Leon, much to her surprise, insisted on taking Nicholas upstairs for his nap and promised to play football with the boy later, while Anna gave Helen a guided tour of the house.
The eight bedrooms and five reception rooms impressed Helen but she could not help thinking it was a bit soulless.
Immaculate with high ornate ceilings, brilliant frescos and marble floors, and the furniture to match it was perfect. A little too perfect, a typical stiff-necked banker’s abode.
But she did take the opportunity to confide in Anna that she was an illustrator and ask her if she could have a room for a study, preferably not too far from Nicholas’ room, because she usually worked when he was asleep. Anna quite happily obliged and showed her to a bedroom, along the corridor from Nicholas’. When Anna went downstairs Helen swiftly unpacked her portable easel and sketch books and removed some essential items of clothing from the master suite. She didn’t care what Leon thought. She was having her own room.
Surprisingly the rest of the day was quite fun. She joined Nicholas and Leon in the garden; after yesterday’s rain it was pleasant to be outdoors in the sunshine. She was cajoled into playing a game of football, and burst out laughing when her usually imposing husband fell over the ball in his haste to take it off her and sprawled at her feet. Nicholas immediately jumped on his back and demanded he pretend to be a horse and give him a ride.
There was something very satisfying in seeing Leon on his knees. ‘Ride him, cowboy,’ Helen shouted encouragement.
But when Nicholas tired of the game, Leon slanted a wicked look up at her.
‘Your turn, Helen,’ and glancing at Nicholas he added, ‘What do you think—should I give Helen a ride?’
‘Yes. Yes,’ Nicholas shouted, his little face wreathed in smiles.
‘No, you should not,’ Helen declared, blushing scarlet at the sexual connotation that flew right over the child’s head. But she was secretly pleased at how well they all got along. Leon looked almost boyish and more relaxed than she had ever seen him when Nicholas was around, which was a good sign for the family she hoped they could eventually become.
Turning her back on the laughing duo, she flung over her shoulder, ‘And now I think it is time for tea.’
‘Sorry, Nicholas, Helen thinks she is too old to play.’
She heard his mocking comment and spun back round to find him grinning down at her.
‘Old, moi?’ she exclaimed, her violet eyes sparkling with humour. ‘You have some nerve at your age.’ She saw his dark eyes flash a warning, and, turning, she sprinted for the house with both Nicholas and Leon chasing her.
Bath time was a joint venture and when Nicholas was finally in bed Leon left to return some business calls and Helen stayed to read him a story.
When she walked into the dining room two hours later, Helen immediately sensed the easygoing atmosphere of the afternoon had gone. If it had ever existed except in her mind. Leon wearing a black shirt with a button down collar and black trousers, was standing by the drinks cabinet, a glass in his hand, a brooding expression on his hard face. Casually dressed, he looked incredibly attractive and nothing like a banker, more of a bandit, Helen thought fancifully.
She frowned. His shirt was probably tailor-made by Turnbull and Asser and his trousers similarly designerlabelled. He could afford the best that money could buy, so why wouldn’t he look amazing? she told herself, determined to deny her growing attraction for the man.
Leon saw her frown, his own expression one of cool indifference, but inside he was anything but indifferent. For a man who prided himself on his rigid self-discipline it was disturbing to realise he had absolutely no control over the instant reaction of his body. Not since he was a teenager had he felt anything so urgent, if then, and it bothered him.
She was wearing a soft blue wraparound dress that emphasised her tiny waist and moulded her hips and thighs like a second skin. Her legs were covered in silk stockings and on her feet she was wearing high-heeled navy shoes. Her long fair hair was piled up on top of her head in a loose knot, a few stray tendrils framing her small face. She looked exquisite and elegant and she had surprised him again.
The wedding dress yesterday and now this, his image of her, first as a young Lolita, devious and money-hungry, and then as an earth-mother type in jeans and sweater, was constantly changing and it worried him.
He was a man renowned for his brilliant analytical brain, a man without emotion who made decisions in the realms of big business on a daily basis with an absolute conviction that was always successful. So why could he not read his own wife so easily?
‘Would you like a drink?’ he demanded curtly.
‘No, thanks. I’ll have a glass of wine with dinner.’ She glanced at him and sat down at the table, ignoring him.
Taking the seat opposite her, he filled their wineglasses and as Anna served the first course he watched Helen through thoughtful if frustrated eyes. She was an enigma to him. Like no other woman he had ever met. Beautiful and surprisingly innocent, caring and compassionate as was evident from watching her interaction with the boy. Then add secretive and avid little sensualist and the mixture was dynamite and dangerous to his peace of mind.
He ate the seafood starter deep in thought. He had never given the women in his life more than a passing thought outside the bedroom. But Helen troubled him, and he did not like the feeling.
As Anna removed the plates and set down the main course he thanked her and, glancing at his silent wife, he had the distinct impression she was here on sufferance, and he did not like that either. Nor was he entirely comfortable with the semi-aroused state that afflicted him every time he set eyes on her.
‘Tomorrow, Helen, I am in meetings all day until the evening,’ he said decisively. She was his wife and he was worrying about nothing, he decided. All he had to do was carry on as before, working all day, only now he could look forward to sating himself in her luscious little body all night.
‘I have arranged for Mary Stefano to take you and Nicholas to see the nursery school I have enrolled him in. Mary’s youngest children already attend and they love it.’
After eating in silence Helen was surprised when Leon spoke. She looked across the wide expanse of the formal dining table to where he sat. He was forking steak into his mouth with obvious enjoyment, completely unperturbed by her presence. Unfortunately she did not have the same luxury. The tension she always felt around him had returned in spades as soon as Nicholas was tucked up in bed asleep.
‘And have I no say in the matter?’ she demanded.
‘In this case, no, it is done.’
‘And if I don’t like it?’ she asked coolly, but inside she was burning with anger. He was so damned autocratic. ‘I am his guardian just as much as you. You should have at least consulted me first.’
He looked over at her, a frown crossing his
