he refused to respond, although his lips thinned into a stern line.
Memories of her mother screaming wild accusations at her father sent a shudder through her. Oh, God, was she turning into a hysterical, irrational woman like her mother had been? She wasn’t imagining that people were looking at her. Leandro’s hard-boned features gave no clue to his thoughts, but Marnie sensed from the taut way he held his body that he was surprised by her behaviour, and the steely gleam in his grey eyes told her he was furious.
Her excitement about attending the party with him congealed into a hard knot of misery in her chest. With a choked cry she stepped past him—and stiffened when he placed his hand on her arm.
‘Where are you going?’
‘I’m not staying at the party now I know that you don’t want me to be here.’ She couldn’t disguise the wobble in her voice. ‘What does it matter where I’m going? It’s not as if you care.’
The truth of that last statement felt like a punch in her gut. She shook her arm free from his grasp and walked as quickly as her high heels would allow across the restaurant. She half expected him to follow her, and her heart sank when he didn’t.
* * *
Leandro watched Marnie’s curvaceous figure march away from him and felt a tightening sensation in his groin as he admired the sexy sway of her derriere. He could not actually believe she would walk out on him, and he was puzzled as much as irritated when she exited the restaurant.
She was not prone to temper tantrums—unlike his ex-wife. Marnie was easy-going, and could always be relied upon to agree with him. He appreciated a life without the drama that had been a feature of his marriage, but he had to admit that he was intrigued to discover an unexpected fiery side to her character. Recalling her hurt expression, he cursed his tactlessness. But he did not like surprises, and he’d been shocked when he’d walked into the restaurant and spotted her.
He would have to have words with Julie, who was covering for his usual PA, Fiona, while she was on maternity leave. But he knew he couldn’t blame the temp for the misunderstanding over inviting Marnie to the staff party. He should have made sure that Julie understood that he never mixed his public and private life—and his mistress belonged firmly in the latter category.
He had made it clear to Marnie when they had met that all he wanted was a no-strings affair. His suspicion that she was a virgin had been allayed by her white-hot passion when they’d slept together for the first time. It had blown his mind. But sex was all he wanted from her and the only thing he could offer.
He had tried commitment once, and had his soul ripped out for his efforts, Leandro thought grimly. His marriage had quickly become a farce that had ultimately turned ugly, and he had no intention of repeating the biggest mistake of his life, despite his father’s nagging.
He’d had dinner with Silvestro Vialli while he’d been in New York and the old man had gone on about him marrying again and, more importantly as far as his father was concerned, producing an heir to secure the future of Vialli Holdings. Leandro had learned early in life that business was the only thing his father cared about.
‘Next time make sure you have a paternity test to prove the child is yours as soon as it’s born, so you avoid the disaster that happened last time,’ Silvestro had advised with typical bluntness.
But there wasn’t going to be a next time. Nicole’s deception had left deep scars, and nothing would persuade Leandro to be metaphorically manacled to a woman for the rest of his life. Memories of his parents’ volatile marriage and bitter divorce when he was seven reinforced his belief that commitment was a mug’s game. He wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship—which made the fact that Marnie had been his mistress for a year all the more shocking.
He couldn’t comprehend how their affair had lasted for so long without him noticing that she had stealthily infiltrated his life. It was certainly not what he’d intended when he had made a spur-of-the-moment decision to ask her to move in with him nearly a year ago. She had needed somewhere to live, and he had assumed he would grow bored with her in a matter of weeks and would find her another flat to move into.
He was unsettled by the realisation that he had not been tempted by another woman since he’d made Marnie his mistress.
A waiter offered him champagne and canapés. Leandro lifted a glass from the tray and took a long sip, needing the hit of alcohol in his bloodstream. His schedule in New York had been hellish, even by his standards, but he always pushed himself to his limits. He was proud of Vialli Entertainment, the business he had built without the support or help of his father. Work was central to his existence and gave him a sense of control that in the past few years had been missing from other areas of his life.
After his marriage had failed he had focused on being a good father, determined that Henry would not suffer from the divorce the way he had done when he was a kid and his own parents had split up. But since he’d received the devastating proof that Henry wasn’t his son he had been left with a void inside him where his heart had once been, and he had vowed never to lay himself open to that level of pain ever again.
His father had spent his life avoiding making emotional attachments, Leandro thought cynically. It was the only trait of Silvestro’s that he was determined to emulate. His mother, on the other hand, had fallen in love dozens of times, with men who had broken her heart, but she hadn’t loved the one person who had adored her—her son.
Leandro forced his thoughts back to the present and Marnie’s unexpected behaviour. What the hell had got into her? He hadn’t tried to stop her from leaving the party because he’d been concerned that she would create a scene in front of his staff. But that was shocking in itself, because generally she was mild natured and until recently had seemed content to take a backstage role in his life.
He frowned as he recalled that when he had phoned her from New York a couple of days ago she had sounded odd, unlike her usual cheerful self. He had almost been tempted to ask if something had upset her. But he hadn’t gone down that route, reminding himself that she was his mistress and he neither sought nor offered to share personal confidences with her.
It might be a good thing that she had demonstrated this volatile side to her character, he brooded. He was frankly stunned that he had allowed their affair to continue for a year, and if Marnie was going to start making emotional demands on him it was time to think about replacing her in his bed.
He was aware that several of his senior staff were trying to catch his attention and told himself to forget about Marnie and enjoy the party. But he had glimpsed the sparkle of tears in her eyes before she’d hurried away from him and his conscience was pricked.
He guessed she would take a cab back to his house in Chelsea because she had nowhere else to go. She had told him that her mother had died a few months before they’d met and her only other relatives lived in Norfolk.
Leandro gulped down the rest of his champagne and swore beneath his breath. Experience had taught him that women were nothing but trouble, and he did not know why he was surprised that Marnie was no different from all the rest. She wasn’t his responsibility, but she was upset, and he acknowledged that he was partly to blame.
He walked over to his deputy CEO and spoke to him briefly before he phoned his chauffeur and requested to be collected from the party.
* * *
Marnie emerged from the air-conditioned restaurant into what felt like a furnace. The summer heatwave had lasted for weeks, and London was sweltering in unusually high temperatures. Even at eight o’clock in the evening the sun was a burning golden disc in the sky, and she was conscious of her dress sticking to her as she walked dispiritedly towards the bus stop.
She couldn’t believe she had stormed out of the party like that. Leandro had looked shocked by her loss of temper and it was hardly surprising that he had not followed her after she had yelled at him like a fishwife.
More tears filled her eyes. What was wrong with her? She never cried.
Even when her brother Luke had