She gave a self-disgusted snort. How could she have been so stupid? She should know by now that all men were—
“Is this the same bed where you found Calabro with another woman weeks before your wedding?”
Carla turned so quickly toward the sound of that familiar and huskily rasping voice, she made herself dizzy. She blinked several times to clear her vision before making out the shadowed form of the man lying beside her on the bed.
Leon.
What the hell…?
Obviously, the reason she didn’t remember leaving the bedroom door ajar or the light on in the hallway was because she hadn’t done either of those things. Leon had.
Carla continued to look at him over her shoulder. “Not the same bed or apartment. The first I threw out, and I moved out of the apartment. Now would you like to explain what the hell you’re doing in my bed?”
“On it,” he corrected. “I didn’t think you would appreciate me getting under the covers with you.”
Carla threw back those covers to get out of bed and turn on the bedside lamp.
She refused to be in the least concerned she’d taken off the jeans and top she’d been wearing earlier and now wore only a thigh-length cotton nightshirt over her bra and panties.
Or notice how sexy Leon looked with his gray hair ruffled. He had removed his jacket and was wearing only the white shirt and the tailored trousers of his suit, having removed his tie to unbutton the shirt at his throat.
She hardened her heart. “I don’t appreciate you being here at all. In fact, I want you to leave.”
“Is that a glittery unicorn on the front of your nightshirt?”
She felt her cheeks warm. “I didn’t buy it. It was a birthday present from Grace.”
“But you’re wearing it. Granted, at a time when you didn’t think anyone would see it, but you’re still wearing it.”
“So?”
He smirked. “I think it’s cute.”
She gritted her teeth. “I think I asked you to leave.”
“Carla—”
“Get out.”
He gave a shrug before swinging his legs off the bed and slipping his sock-clad feet into his shoes before standing.
“I told you to get out,” Carla reminded.
“And I got out of the bed.”
Her hands were clenched at her sides. “Are you being deliberately obtuse?” she snapped with increasing agitation.
“No more than usual.”
She gave a disbelieving snort. “Then let me put it more plainly so that you completely understand.” She spoke to him as if he were a child or mentally deficient. “I want you to leave my bed, my apartment, and my life. In that order. In fact,” she continued without waiting for him to answer, “I don’t know what you’re still doing here after I told you to leave earlier and to close the door behind you on the way out.”
If Leon had learned nothing else the past two hours as he watched Carla as she slept, it was that, guilty or innocent, he wasn’t ready to let her go. Because of that, he knew he had to make the choice to believe in her innocence.
Totally.
Anything less wouldn’t do. He either trusted her or he didn’t.
He straightened with new resolve. “I believe you.”
“Then why aren’t you leaving? Don’t you have someone’s fingers to break? Or toenails to pull—”
“I believe you when you say you aren’t in cahoots with Calabro in his attempt to assassinate me,” Leon stated firmly before she named any more of the vicious methods used by the old guard of the Mafia to extract information. Before he became their capo and found that monetary and family hardships were much more effective.
“And what gave you this amazing insight?” Carla looked less than impressed with his words. “Benny’s denials of my involvement? Possibly the admission of guilt from the man who actually paid Benny to shoot you? Along with his total lack of knowledge as to who the hell I am?”
Kieran had texted Leon a short time ago to say they had apprehended Don Sebastian and his men on their way to the airport and were now holding them at the warehouse.
Leon had instructed they keep them there but do nothing else. He wanted to question the older man himself. But first he needed to make things right with Carla.
“Or maybe you gave Grace a call, interrupting her honeymoon, and checked out my story with her?” Carla continued with a disgusted shake of her head. “Leon, you can take one or all of those things and shove them up your untrusting and superior arse— Are you laughing at me?” she demanded furiously.
Leon knew that he shouldn’t be. That there was nothing in the least amusing about this situation. That he was trying to get close to Carla again, not piss her off.
And yet he couldn’t seem to control the smile of admiration from curving his lips. “You’re one hell of a woman, Carla.” He was more than a little in awe of her at this moment. Even when she was wearing that glittery unicorn nightshirt. Or maybe especially because she was wearing that unicorn top. “You simply know no fear, do you?”
Any one of Leon’s dons would have wanted to eliminate Carla if she’d talked to them in the disrespectful way she talked to him. No, that wasn’t disrespect. It was honesty. Complete honesty. Carla gave respect where it was due, not demanded. Leon wanted, needed, that from her, for himself.
Then earn it, idiot, a voice in his head told him.
A voice that sounded suspiciously like Carla’s.
She gave a shake of her head. “The opinion of a man who chooses not to believe a word I say isn’t of particular—”
“I believe every word you’ve ever said to me, including the insults,” Leon stated firmly. “Not because of anything your ex-fiancé had to say. Or his employer’s admission of guilt. Or because I’ve spoken to Grace. Because I haven’t allowed any of those things to sway me. I believe in your innocence because you told me that’s what you are.”
Carla stilled, eyeing him warily.
Could she believe him?
Half in
