He stroked her feet with his thumbs, sending sensation shimmering into her sex, as he turned to her. ‘Why did you get a job as a short-order cook?’
The pulse around her heart intensified at the off-hand question. She’d abided by his rules, and now... Did he know he was breaking them?
‘Why do you ask?’ she said.
‘I just wondered if you did it because you enjoyed cooking so much.’
The question was loaded.
She could answer with the platitudes she had always used before, when disguising the reality of her life in New York with her mother. And the financial fallout after her death. She shouldn’t want Leo to know the truth, when no one else ever had. But the memory of what he’d called her on two different occasions came rushing back...
A spoilt brat.
And suddenly she wanted him to know that wasn’t who she was. It was dangerous. Perhaps he wouldn’t believe her, he might not even care, but he’d asked. And that was enough.
‘I needed the money,’ she said. ‘By the time my mother died we were in a lot of debt. The penthouse had to be repossessed. I’d had a waitressing job at the diner since I was sixteen,’ she added, seeing the stunned surprise in his gaze. ‘But the cook’s position paid more.’
‘Why did you need money?’ he said. ‘Did Andreas not give your mother a fair divorce settlement?’ He sounded outraged. Why should that mean so much?
‘He did. In fact, he was more than generous. He wanted to be rid of her, and he was willing to pay,’ Juno said, the familiar bitterness tightening her voice. ‘But by the time we’d been in New York for a few years, her drinking had become a problem. She couldn’t hold onto any acting jobs, she’d lost her looks and the constant partying became an excuse to spend everything he sent her and borrow more. By the time I was sixteen we were in tons of debt.’
‘Why didn’t your father help you?’ he said, straightening in his chair.
‘Because she never acknowledged she had a problem and I’m not even sure he would have helped us if she had. He’d made it very clear that last summer in Monrova that I was a problem he didn’t want to be bothered with either.’
She’d been too scared to ask, because she’d been sure the answer would be no.
Leo stroked her feet absently, his gaze locked on her face. ‘Juno, that’s appalling. I had no idea.’
Her throat thickened and she felt stupidly close to tears. To know that he believed her, that he cared, felt so huge. When it really shouldn’t.
‘Do you know what the toughest thing was though?’ she said.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘She still loved him. I always thought it was just drunken ramblings, when I’d be pouring her into bed, she’d say over and over again how much she missed him. How she wished she hadn’t messed up. But I think now she really meant it. I guess it didn’t matter to her that he had never loved her in the same way.’ More than duty, more than scandal, more than his responsibility to the monarchy. ‘Maybe if he had he wouldn’t have discarded her so easily.’ Or me.
‘I am sorry I called you a spoilt brat,’ he said, with a forcefulness that made her heart swell even as she acknowledged the dangerous parallels in her own life. She’d always known falling for Leo would be a mistake. Why hadn’t she been able to stop herself? ‘It seems that your childhood was a great deal harder than mine.’
‘I doubt that,’ she said. ‘My father never hit me.’
‘I should never have told you about that,’ he said, his voice brittle with purpose. ‘He wasn’t a loving man, but I survived. And it taught me self-sufficiency.’
Did he really believe that?
She cradled his cheek, felt the muscle tighten in his jaw and her heart broke a little more. They’d both said too much. But even if he regretted it, she never would.
‘I wish I could have met that little boy,’ she said, seeing his eyes becoming shuttered. ‘I would have loved to give him a hug.’
‘Don’t...’ He clasped her wrist and drew her hand down from his face. And she felt the deep sense of loss.
She shifted off the sofa, knowing she’d broken the rules, and paced over to the fireplace. She shouldn’t have let that slip. Especially when she felt him step behind her, his voice husky.
‘Don’t be sad, Juno. That child is long gone.’
Is he...? Really? When you still tense at the sight of a few Christmas decorations?
She should leave it at that. She’d made a promise to herself she wouldn’t beg. Wouldn’t ask, so he could reject her. The way her father had.