Free One Hour to Midnight by Shirley Wine Page A

under-her-lashes glance.
    What the hell does she think I'll do to her? God knows, there's room enough, and more, for us to live at Claremont and never set eyes on each other unless we actually want to.
    "Don't let that worry you. I'll be here, at my son's side."  
    The way she flinched and the rush of colour that flooded her pale face made him regret his stinging words.  
    "I've made reservations."
    He was forced to lean closer to hear her and caught a hint of the light, floral perfume and a warm womanly musk, as understated as the clothing she wore. The practical shirt a far cry from the tight stretchy number she'd worn that night in the bar. It was almost puritanical and his fingers itched to peel it away, and reveal those lush curves he couldn't get out of his mind.
    "Reservations can be cancelled," he said, impatient with his thoughts and the rapid rush of blood travelling south. "I'll deal with it. Where are you staying?"  
    Succumbing to the need to touch her, he lifted a hand and held it against her face.  
    "The Berkley."
    Why was she fighting him? Was she afraid to revisit Claremont?
    He caught her hands in his, frowning when he felt their betraying tremble. "Were you so very unhappy at Claremont?"
    "Unhappy? I have nightmares about that place." She shook her head and gave him a look so full of pity. "Besides, it never pays to revisit the scene of a crime."  
    "Is that meant to be funny?"
    "Whatever gave you the idea the thought of visiting anywhere you live is remotely funny." This was delivered with such withering scorn, he was left scorched.
    Too aware of the hovering nurse, Leon gripped her hands. "Visiting Claremont may help you put the past into some sort of perspective."
    "Make it all neat and tidy, you mean?" She shook her head. "That would suit you, Leon wouldn't it?"  
    The challenge was unmistakeable.  
    "Nothing about this situation suits me, least of all dealing with a stubborn woman who's carrying an enormous chip on her shoulder. And here's me thinking you might enjoy catching up with Cassie and McKenna. I know they both thought you hung the moon."  
    He saw her indecision and had the sensation he'd just compounded a grave error. Cassie Burns, his housekeeper had been at Claremont since he was a teenager and McKenna, his driver, had first worked for his parents. In the past, he'd squirmed under the lash of their condemnation over this woman.
    Bringing Ricki here is a mistake, Leon. Find some other solution to her situation.
    Where else can I ensure she's safe?
    And what makes you think she's safe here? With Julia? You're brewing trouble.
    As his housekeeper's words ghosted through his memory, Leon knew it was suddenly as important as taking his next breath, that Ricki—scratch that—Veronica returned to Claremont.
    She needed to visit, and he needed to have her under his roof.
    Had Cassie been right? Was there just cause for Veronica's anger and resentment? Did she have any reason to trust him? She chewed at her lush lower lip, and he was filled with sudden misgiving.  
    Are my reasons so very altruistic?  
    "Julia's no longer at Claremont, Veronica. I'm issuing you the invitation."
    One swift glance from sea-blue eyes made him regret the words. "You don't think I'd be stupid enough to take your word it would be okay to visit your home if she was still alive, still the lady of the manor?"
    Each word found a vulnerable chink bringing with it, a sting of guilt. What had transpired between his wife and Veronica?  
    "Shall I call McKenna?"
    She shrugged and spread her hands. Leon took that as acquiescence and rose and strode to the desk. Within minutes, McKenna had the Bentley under the portico.
    "McKenna's here with the car." He held her arm as she stood up, sliding it around her waist when she staggered. "Take it easy."  
    Her fragility worried him. He'd never thought meeting with Jordan would upset her so badly. He steadied her until she could stand unaided, but kept a firm grip on her arm