Leopold: Part Four Page 3

  “Well, any friend of Elle’s is a friend of ours,” he says. “We’re real sorry to be losing her. I tried everything I could to get her to stay. We get a lot of physicians working in short-term contract positions here, but it’s rare we find one who’s such a good fit for us. Elle’s a real gem.”

  “Leo doesn’t need to hear this,” Elle says.

  “On the contrary,” I say. “I want to hear it. And I can’t say I’m surprised—I’ve had the pleasure of seeing Elle at work in the past. She has real skill, not to mention a true compassion for her patients.” It truly is no surprise her colleagues have warmed to her in such a short period of time. My respect for her grows deeper every day.

  “Uh oh, Elle,” says Paul, a twinkle in his eye. “It sounds like we might have someone else vying to hire you again.”

  “I’m not here to extend any offers of employment—though I can’t say I’d refuse the opportunity for her to work at one of my family’s clinics again,” I tell him. “I’m actually here on a social call.”

  “I knew it!” says Margaret, nudging the woman beside her with her elbow. “Elle, you’re the woman from a few months ago, aren’t you? The one he stayed with in L.A.! I didn’t make the connection before, you being here and all.”

  Elle shakes her head. “You guys, I’m not really sure I want to talk about this.”

  And while I’m not ashamed to admit my feelings for Elle, forcing her into a corner like this was never my intention.

  “How rude of me,” I say. “I haven’t officially introduced myself to everyone yet.”

  I set my plate of cake on the desk and spend the next several minutes going around the room, firmly shaking the hands of all the men and bowing over the fingers of the women. Some merely introduce themselves, while others—like Margaret and a young resident named Steven—want to chat a little longer. Margaret tries to wheedle more information from me about my relationship with Elle, while Steven is more interested in having a discussion about European politics. I’m not particularly inclined to discuss either topic, but I’m nothing if not skilled in the art of conversation. Throw in a little charm, make a few vague, noncommittal comments on the matter, and I can bluff my way through almost any subject matter.

  More than once as I talk to members of the clinic’s staff, I find my gaze wandering back to Elle. At first, she just picks at her cake and chats with Paul, but as the impromptu party creeps on, I find myself locking eyes with her as I look over each time. She doesn’t look particularly annoyed anymore. Or even anxious. She just looks…pensive. I’m not sure if that is a point in my favor or not.

  It feels like a lifetime before I finally make my way to her side again. I grab my piece of cake from the desk, only to find it has almost entirely melted.

  “You have to be faster than that with ice cream cake,” Elle says.

  “Lesson learned,” I say, scooping up what I can with my plastic fork and sliding it into my mouth. “Still delicious, though. Truly, you Americans come up with the most amazing foods.”

  She gives a little laugh and a half-roll of her eyes. “You and your American food.”

  “This is a fine group of colleagues you have here,” I say carefully. “They seem to respect you very much.”

  “They’re very nice people.”

  “Did you enjoy the work you did here?” I ask.

  She frowns. “What are you doing, Leo?”

  “Simply attempting to learn how you spent your last three months,” I say. “I was worried…”

  She straightens. “Worried about what?”

  “Worried that what happened in Los Angeles might affect your career,” I say. She has no idea how much that concern plagued my blasted conscience. “Worried that the publicity might have hurt your prospects of finding a position. Worried that it might have led you to leave the field altogether.”

  “It would take a lot more than that to make me want to stop being a doctor,” she says. “I’m stronger than I look, Leo.”

  “And I know that better than anyone. I just…worried.”

  Her eyes drop back down to her empty plate. “You don’t need to worry about me, Leo. I shouldn’t be your concern anymore.”

  “But you are, Elle,” I say, stepping closer and dropping my voice. “You have been at the center of my thoughts every moment of every day since we parted.” I know I probably shouldn’t have said that here, with her coworkers around us—I intended to keep such emotional confessions until later tonight—but I can’t seem to help myself. Once again I’m losing my mind around her.

  It’s been three months since I felt her body move against mine. It’s pure torture to stand in front of her now and not be able to experience that joy again.

  She lifts her gaze back to mine. “I’ve been thinking about you, too, but that doesn’t mean—”

  A hand claps me on the shoulder, and I look over to find Paul standing next to me.

  “A few of us were talking about walking over to the pub across the street for a few beers. Are you two interested?” His gaze flicks between the two of us. “Or did you have other plans?”

  I’ll join the trip to the pub if it means spending some more time with Elle—but right now, I want nothing more than to be alone with her, to lay all my cards on the table. To hold her and kiss her and try to chase away this hollow feeling that took root in my chest the day I ran away from her.

  My eyes move to Elle. I won’t attempt to speak for her.

  She looks up at me with those wide eyes, and I can see the indecision on her face. She’s already refused my offer once, but maybe now that she’s overcome her shock at my arrival, she’ll give me one more chance. I’m sure my desires are plain on my face, but I still refuse to say a word.

  Finally, she turns to Paul.

  “Thank you, but Leo and I already have plans.”

  Her words make my heart soar. Who knew I’d ever feel such a rush from a woman simply accepting my offer of a date?

  “You two have fun, then,” Paul says with a smile.

  It takes some time for the others to finish their cake and filter back out—both Margaret and Steven approach me and attempt to continue our earlier conversations—but finally, Elle and I are alone again.

  The moment the last person has left, I take her hand and bring it to my lips.

  “You won’t regret this, Elle,” I say. “I have a very special night planned for us.”

  She pulls her hand away from my mouth, but she keeps her fingers in mine. “I’ll go on a date with you, but only because we need to talk. Don’t get any ideas about anything else.”

  She said something similar before our last “date,” and my lips curl up as I remember how that turned out. If I hadn’t accidentally started a fire, she would have let me take her right there in the middle of her kitchen.

  “We’ll take it at whatever pace you desire,” I say. “Though I should warn you that your friend Margaret is already planning our wedding.”

  She laughs and pulls her hand out of mine. “Like that would ever happen.” She turns around. “I should finish packing up my things, then we can go. Oh—and am I going to need to change? I’m not exactly dressed to go out or anything.”

  “Don’t worry—I have everything you’ll need on my jet.”

  She freezes, then turns slowly around to face me again. “What do you mean your jet?”

  “Our transportation for the evening,” I say, a smile spreading across my lips. “As I said, Elle, I have a very special night planned.”

  Elle

  Something about this feels like a trap—and not a bit of it makes any sense. Not that I would expect it to—this is Leo, after all.

  Watching him charm the people I’ve worked with for the past several months makes me remember how he won me over in the first place. But none of this is real—he’s the ultimate bullshit artist. I need to make sure I remember that tonight, if this date even happens.

  I edge around him and head for the door without saying anything
about the jet. There’s no way I’m going anywhere with him—it’s bad enough he showed up in my office at all. And the only reason I had agreed to any of this tonight was to get him to go on his merry way. If I know anything about Leo, it’s that he’s more stubborn than I am, and I know he won’t be leaving by choice until he gets what he wants.

  One date. I can do that—I can force myself to spend a few hours with him. It would be nice to have some closure on everything that’s happened between us, anyway. But I never said anything about getting on his fancy private plane with him. That is one part of his life I’ve never wanted anything to do with. I’m sure there are plenty of girls out there who would swoon over stuff like that. But it only makes me feel like I want to puke—it touches off something in the back of my mind that tells me I’m not worthy of someone like Leo. It’s a part of myself I’m actively trying to get to shut the hell up.

  I walk through my office and head for the back door. I don’t even check to see if he’s following me—I just begin my walk back to the dormitory where I and the other temporary medical workers live in this small town.

  He catches up to me a second later. “It’s bloody hot out here. I have a car with air conditioning, Elle. Matthias would be happy to drive you to your home—”

  “It’s only a few blocks away. And it’s not as hot as it was in Rio de Campo. There’s almost zero humidity here.” I have to restrain myself to keep from looking over at him. I know I’ll only imagine how he looked the day we met at the clinic when his shirt was clinging to him. It was hard enough to keep myself from staring at him while we were at that party in the clinic a few minutes ago.

  “Yes, but it’s not even summer.” He pulls at the collar of his long-sleeved dress shirt. “Too bloody hot when it is still technically spring.”

  “We’re already almost there.” I motion toward the building in the distance. “It’s walking distance on purpose, so there’s no commute for the employees.”

  “They provided a fine home for you, at least. I had my concerns when I found out where you were hiding—”

  “That isn’t my home—it’s a dorm. Sort of like Owen’s hostel.” I glance over at him. “And I’m not hiding, Leo. This is a pretty common thing—working for a medical agency. There are five doctors here on contract right now and probably a dozen nurses. Paul is the only doctor who actually lives in this town.”

  “Understandably. I can’t imagine why anyone would choose to live in the middle of the desert. I also can’t imagine why you would have chosen to come here when there were short-term positions within driving distance of your home.” He glances at me with a smile. “I know because I checked. You chose to come here.”

  I stop on the sidewalk and turn to him. “Leo, I had my reasons for leaving.”

  He stares at me for a moment. “You were running from our difficulties.”

  I roll my eyes before I turn to start walking for the building again. “You can hardly blame me. The paparazzi never left, even after they knew you had fled. It wasn’t until a basketball player killed someone in a drunk driving accident that they finally decided I wasn’t interesting anymore. I sat in my house alone for five days.”

  “And if you had taken a job in California, then—”

  “Then what?” I stop and turn to him again. “If I had taken a job in California, then what? You might have come slinking back to me sooner? Yeah, I really missed the boat on that one, Leo.”

  “Elle, I’ve already said leaving you that day was the biggest mistake of my life. I’ve paid the price—you have no idea how much I’ve regretted my actions of that day.”

  “Hm.” I start walking again. I’d love to throw the tabloids in his face—ask him exactly how much of a price he had to pay considering how many different supermodels he’s slept with in the past three months. But I’m not going to—something about it feels almost stalkerish. Not that his being here at all isn’t completely stalkerish.

  But I’m not about to allow him the satisfaction of knowing I care or that my gut twists with jealousy when I let myself think about how he’s been with other women. How I’ve been unable to stop myself from reading every fucking tabloid in the supermarket, searching for every single passing mention of him. I suppose his use of private investigators on me is basically the same thing—a much more expensive version of the same thing.

  My steps quicken as we walk up to the threshold of the building. I turn to him at the entry. “Wait here. I need to change my clothes—I’ll just be a minute.”

  He grins. “I’m happy to assist if you’d like.”

  “Not a chance, Leo. Not a single chance in hell.” I smile. “I’ll be back in a second.”

  His smile falls, and he gives me a single nod.

  I rush in, tearing down the hall to my room. I still haven’t packed much of anything—I’m supposed to leave tomorrow, but my things are all still scattered around my room. I choose a sundress from my closet—one of the few articles of clothing I have that isn’t for work—and I pull it on, tossing the clothes I wore today into a box near the dresser.

  He isn’t going to come into this room. I will not let things get that far tonight. I won’t. I can’t. Being with Leo might have been the best sex of my life, but it was only really one day. Nothing about that day I spent with him at my house meant anything about the rest of my life.

  And that’s what tonight is going to be. One date—a few hours to gain some closure. He obviously needs it as much as I do.

  But there’s a niggling little thought in the back of my head that maybe… Maybe I can let myself have one more night with him. If I go into it knowing it will be only one night, I might be able to let myself just enjoy it for what it is. A fling. A one-night stand. The best sex of my life.

  I’m getting ahead of myself, though. He invited me on a date. On his jet. Leo must want more than just two hours of talking, too.

  Of course he wants more. This is Prince Leopold we’re talking about.

  I shake my head to myself as I gather my things from the floor and throw them into the box. I’m making way too much of this. Overthinking things, as usual. I do believe I can do this date, though. As long as I keep things on my terms, I’ll be fine. I can shield my heart and not allow myself to be hurt again.

  I walk back out to the porch to see Leo sitting on the small wooden bench near the door. He’s unbuttoned his collar and has rolled up his sleeves to his elbows.

  He stands as soon as he sees me, grinning. His eyes roam over my body, and he lifts a brow. “I must say this change in clothing is rather lovely.”

  It’s difficult to cover my smile. “Thanks.” I let out a long breath. “Look, I thought about your offer. And I’m willing to accept on one condition—”

  “Anything.” He extends his elbow to me. “I’ll call Matthias to bring the car—the airstrip is rather close. We can be—”

  “No.” I fold my arms over my chest instead of taking his elbow. “The date…it needs to happen here.”

  “Here?” He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. After a moment, the silly grin returns to his lips. “In your dormitory? I can definitely be amenable to that—”

  “No, not in my dormitory. The walls are pretty thin in there, Leo, so don’t get any ideas—”

  “If memory serves, dear Elle, it is not I who would need to keep quiet should our date occur in your bed. Though I’d be more than happy to help you remember—”

  “Hilarious. You really missed your calling as a stand-up comedian, Leo.” I feign a glare in his direction. “I said I’d go on a proper date with you, and I will. But it has to be here. And by here…” I motion with my hand down the street. “I mean in this town. Not in my bed.”

  “Not yet, at any rate.”

  I roll my eyes and try again to hide my grin. “We have two choices as far as restaurants are concerned. I assume by a proper date, you mean dinner?”

  “I did mean dinner, but I definitely did not mean for you to have but two choices in the
matter, Elle. If you would just allow me to take you—”

  “No.” I shake my head, pressing my lips in a line. “The date is here or it isn’t happening. And you need to get it through your head that the date ends after dinner. Then you can get yourself back on your plane and fly back to wherever it is you came from.”

  “Montovia.” He smiles. “Though I’ll admit I made a few stops before coming here.”

  I let out a sound of exasperation before I edge around him and head back to the sidewalk, turning to walk back into town.

  He’s at my side a moment later. “You didn’t tell me what my choices are.”

  I glance up at him. “We can go to the pub where my coworkers went after the party or we can go to the Chinese restaurant across the street. Otherwise, we can get stuff for peanut butter sandwiches at the store and go to the park for a picnic.”

  “Hm.” He chuckles. “While I do have quite a fond memory of us at a park, I think I’d prefer that on this date, we refrain from peanut butter sandwiches. The dates we’ve shared where those have been the main course…” His voice trails off and he grins down at me, lifting an eyebrow.

  “Agreed.” I have to force myself not to smile. At least we can both see the humor in what’s happened between us before.

  “So that leaves us the choice between spending the evening with your coworkers and with what I’m sincerely doubting is authentic Chinese food.” He pauses for a moment. “You know, Elle, if you’d like, we can get on my jet and I can take you to one of the finest Cantonese restaurants in the world—”

  “I already told you, I’m not getting on that plane, Leo.” Though I have to admit, he’s probably right about the restaurant. I haven’t eaten there myself, but I’ve heard stories in the short time I’ve been here.

  “Then Chinese it is.” He pulls my hand into his as we continue to walk. “Though, I think you’d prefer—”

  “Leo, you’re pushing your luck.” After the bolt of electricity from his touch is done racing up my arm, I think about pulling my hand away. But I don’t. There’s something else there—something warm I don’t remember feeling when I touched him before. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s nice.