200 Harley Street. Lynne Marshall

wanted to hurt her and whatever way it went now, surely he would.

      He kissed her eyes and her cheeks and then met her gaze, and he could see the tears in her eyes that he’d put there.

      She wriggled from under him, but he didn’t let her go.

      The trowel had been passed to him now—it was Leo frantically plastering over the cracks. ‘I was thinking, if you went and saw your parents early and then came back …’

      ‘Leo, it’s Mum’s birthday on Saturday.’

      Leo’s jaw gritted.

      ‘They do a cake at dinnertime,’ Lizzie explained.

      ‘Can’t they do it at lunch?’

      He let her go then, sat on the sofa as she moved for her clothes, it was all so easy for him.

      He tried, though. ‘I’m not saying don’t go, just that you were there yesterday, you could be there for her birthday—you don’t have to drop everything …’

      ‘But I do,’ Lizzie said, and stood to pull on her skirt. ‘And I will continue to do so. Leo, you seem to think yesterday was an anomaly, a brief inconvenience, but the last few weeks have actually been very quiet for me. Often I’m there every weekend with one drama or another …’

      ‘You make it harder on yourself.’

      ‘I never said it was hard.’

      ‘Actually, you did.’ Leo could be a bastard sometimes. ‘Several times.’

      ‘Oh, I’m to drop everything because you’ve got a dinner on Saturday with the directors of Kate’s?’

      ‘You drop everything for them.’

      ‘And I will continue to do so.’ Lizzie was dressed now. ‘For as long as they’re alive I will drop everything if they need me.’

      ‘That’s your choice.’

      ‘Yes, it is.’

      ‘If you ask me—’

      ‘I’m not.’ Lizzie just stood there. ‘I’m not asking your opinion on family. I’m not asking someone who’s so royally screwed up every relationship he’s ever had to tell me how I should handle mine. Yes, my parents are a huge part of my life, yes, I might have not much to show for it, but I’m content with my choices.’

      ‘Content.’

      ‘Too boring for you, Leo?’ Lizzie challenged. ‘I happen to like content, I happen to like sleeping and waking and living guilt-free. I’ve always known what I wanted—whether I’ll get it might be another thing, but I wanted to be a nurse and I wanted a family of my own, and a career, not screwing and partying and trying to outrun hell. It catches up, Leo …’

      ‘Not if you don’t let it.’ Leo shrugged. ‘I was right the first time.’

      ‘What?’ Lizzie’s head snapped round as she picked up her bag to go, to walk out. ‘Yes, I’m running into the woods, never to be seen again,’ she snarled. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be fine at work.’

      Only Leo wasn’t referring to a fairy-tale, he was referring to a conversation that had taken place even before he’d met her.

      ‘Saint Lizzie …’ Leo drawled, his scalpel sharpened, ready to lance this once and for all. ‘You’re a martyr, Lizzie …’ He could be very scathing at times. ‘You really do need to get out more …’

      ‘Oh, I’m getting out, Leo,’ Lizzie said. ‘Just a little too late.’

      She walked away and he wanted to call her back, to catch her and turn her around, but he just stood there.

      He heard the door slam.

      The lift bell pinged and he should run and stop her, tell her they could sort something out.

      But what?

      He looked at the roses, taunting him because romance was the only part he could do. The compromise, the rows, he did not.

      Ah, but the making up afterwards?

      It had never dawned on him that you could.

      Leo wrenched open the door, went to run down the stairs, but for what?

      Lizzie knew what she wanted from life.

      He walked back into the apartment to the scent of her mingled with roses and he unleashed his anger at himself, slamming the vase from the table with his hand. The crash and splinter of the glass barely registered, such was the noise in his head.

      Back to being single.

      Again.

       CHAPTER SIXTEEN

      STEPPING INTO 200 Harley Street the next morning was amongst the hardest things Lizzie had ever done.

      Thankfully the door to Leo’s office was closed and remained so.

      She got through the morning as best she could but, of course, Ethan noticed.

      ‘Are you okay?’ Ethan checked, and Lizzie forced a smile.

      ‘Of course I am,’ Lizzie said. ‘Mum’s been a bit unwell,’ she offered, and then halted, very aware she was using her parents as an excuse.

      When Ethan had gone she sat at the desk in her office and the tears came, not about the row the previous night but because, damn him, Leo was right. Oh, he’d put it terribly, but she was hiding behind her parents. Of course they could have had cake at lunchtime and, yes, she could have had her mother’s surgery rescheduled, of course she didn’t have to stay overnight. It had been the excuse she’d needed to shield her from the full blaze of Leo, the distance between them necessary if she was somehow to protect her heart.

      It hadn’t worked, though.

      Her heart, for the first time ever, was truly broken.

      Ethan heard her tears from behind her closed door and, incensed, marched into Leo’s office.

      ‘What’s going on with Lizzie?’ Ethan demanded.

      ‘Nothing, as far as I know.’

      ‘Come off it, Leo. I know you two are on together—everyone knows.’

      ‘Were on,’ Leo corrected him. ‘We just finished.’

      ‘I told you to back off.’

      ‘And I chose not to listen.’ Leo shrugged, guilt at his handling of things making him more cutting than usual. ‘Anyway, what does it have to do with you?’ Leo frowned. ‘Is there something I’m missing here? Because you seem terribly attached to your little nurse. Did a bit more than dressings go on during the home visits?’

      ‘You know they didn’t.’

      ‘Was she taking care of more than your legs?’ Leo jeered, and, war hero or not, injured or not, Leo had his brother against the wall.

      ‘What does it matter to you?’ Ethan taunted. ‘You just said you two were finished.’ They were stepping into very dangerous territory, the same anger and jealousy that had ripped through Leo when he’d found out that the woman he had fallen hard for had been on with Ethan was coming between them again. ‘Go on,’ Ethan goaded, ‘hit me.’ Leo raised his fist. ‘We both know you won’t.’

      ‘You’re not worth it,’ Leo snarled, dropping his fist.

      ‘Backing off, are you, Leo?’ Ethan’s lip curled. ‘Let’s see how you smooth this over. Let’s see you charm your way out of it, or,’ he said, talking now about Leo’s handling of their father, ‘why don’t you pour me a drink?’

      Leo nearly did hit him then, but instead