Chapter Six
She woke up to the smell of coffee and bacon, a strange pair of words running through her mind.
Benny Saff.
The words had seemed to drift to her in the half light between sleep and wakefulness. But it wasn’t her voice she heard in her mind.
It was the man from the bank. The one who’d been talking to Maggie.
Benny Saff? The name meant nothing to her, and yet she was almost positive it had been said when the men had exchanged words in the language she couldn’t understand. Was it something that would help them identify the language, and therefore the nationality, of the men who had hurt Maggie?
She didn't know, and she lay in bed working the words in her mind, trying to make sense of them before she mentioned them to Leo.
The room was dim, filled with only the weak London light that made it impossible to determine the time of day. She hadn’t wanted to take Leo’s bed, but he’d insisted. He’d even sat in the chair next to the bed as she fell asleep. She thought she’d be too upset to sleep, her body filled with a strange mixture of adrenaline and shock. But something about Leo’s presence had soothed her, and she’d drifted off suddenly and completely.
She looked around, wondering why she’d never been to Leo’s flat in London. She’d offered to meet him here, hadn’t she? Or had she been too wrapped up in her own life to suggest it? Maybe she simply hadn’t wanted to know what she would find — likely some kind of bachelor pad designed to get women out of their knickers.
Except that’s not at all how she would describe the flat. Instead it was small and comfortable, obviously expensive, but not overly lavish. It was clean and homey, an escape from the noise and grit of the city.
But this wasn’t some kind of holiday. Maggie had been shot. Diana didn’t even know if her friend was still alive. She’d followed Leo’s lead. Had taken the night to rest and regroup.
Now it was time to go to the police.
She got out of bed and stretched, then nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Leo leaning against the door frame. He wore the same pair of well-worn jeans he’d had on the night before. They were a little too big in the waist, hanging low enough on his hips to give her a glimpse of a perfectly chiseled “V” under the thin white shirt that clung to every well defined muscle in his upper body. His hair was deliciously tousled, the rogue lock skimming his forehead even more rakishly than normal. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, but somehow he was even sexier than when he was dressed and polished, while she was probably a hot mess.
Damn him.
Was it her imagination that his gaze was predatory? That his eyes combed her body from head to toe like he’d never seen her before that moment?
She looked down, wondering if she’d gone to sleep in her underwear and bra. But no. She was in Leo’s sweatpants and one of his old T-shirts, just like she remembered. Hardly tempting to a man who’d known her since they were old enough to run wild together.
“Good morning,” she said, suddenly desperate to break the tension between them.
A smile barely touched the corners of his mouth. “Morning, Diana.”
Diana…
There was something in the way he said her name. Something possessive, even a little subversive. It sent a shiver up her spine, sent little electric shocks to the far recesses of her body.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
“Surprisingly, yes,” she said.
His nod was slow. He bent down, picked up a shopping bag she only now noticed on the floor, and held it out to her. She took it, careful not to get too close, not to let her fingers brush against his.
“What’s this?”
“I thought you might need a few things,” he said. “Come have breakfast. There’s coffee.”
He turned, giving her a clear view of his tight ass before he disappeared into the hall.
Get a grip, Diana. This is no time to explore your childhood crush.
She peeked into the bag and caught sight of folded silk and wool, cotton and lace. How on earth had Leo managed to find her new clothes between last night and this morning? Had he chosen them himself? And were those new knickers under the pants and blouse?
Her cheeks burned at the thought of him choosing something so personal for her. She dropped the bag like it was on fire, then turned her attention to Leo’s bureau. She was looking for an elastic band when his voice traveled to her from the kitchen.
“This food isn’t going to eat itself, Diana.”
She sighed, then gave up and made her way to the kitchen. He was leaning against the counter in front of the coffee pot, holding a steaming mug. Coffee and a barefoot, morning-tousled Leo? Who could blame her for being distracted, even under the circumstances?
She approached the counter. “Where are the cups?”
He held out the cup in his hand.
“Thank you.” She took a sip of the hot coffee, avoiding his eyes. When she finally dared to meet his gaze, he was looking at the hair springing wildly around her head. She laughed, reached up with one hand to touch it. “Still crazy, right? I looked for an elastic, but I couldn’t find one.”
He lifted a hand, touched a curl, twisted it around one of his fingers, his eyes on hers. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t take her eyes off his. And now she remembered why she’d never been to Leo’s apartment. Why they always met in pubs and restaurants. They were controllable environments. Places designed to keep Leo at a distance. To keep them separated by a table or a crowd of people.
This… This was dangerous.
“Your hair is beautiful,” he said, his voice low. “Like the rest of you.”
She was still reeling from the words, still wondering if she’d imagined them, when he turned away, busying himself with something on the counter like it hadn’t happened.
“Have a seat,” he said. “I hope you like bacon and pancakes.”
She lowered herself into one of the chairs around a roughly hewn but well designed dining table. As Leo came toward her bearing two plates heaped with food, she thought the table could have been a metaphor for the man in front of her. She shook her head a moment later to dispel the notion.
She did not need to think about Leo being roughly hewn.
Or well designed.
He set the plates down and took the other chair, then turned the mug in his hand before speaking.
“Maggie didn’t make it, Diana.” He met her eyes. “I’m sorry, love.”
She shook her head, swallowed the coffee that threatened to make its way back up her throat. “How do you know?”
“I contacted my friends on the police force. Did some quiet fishing.”
She pushed the plate of food away as tears sprang to her eyes. “I can’t believe it. Evan…”
“Her son,” Leo said softly.
Diana nodded. When she looked at him, his features were drawn tight. “What will happen to him?”
He hesitated. “I don’t know. He’s seventeen. I imagine he’ll live with his father until he goes to university.”
“His father is a bastard,” Diana said angrily.
“I’m sorry.”
He was. She could hear it in his voice. But still she was angry. She wanted to throw something. To scream. To run. Anything but sit at this table in this flat doing nothing at all.
She stood. “I have to get out of here.”
She was unlocking the door when Leo spoke behind her. “Diana, wait.”
She froze with her hand on the knob. “I don’t want to wait. I need… I need to get out of here.”
She opened the door and left before he could stop her.