Australia’s Most Eligible Bachelor (18 page)

“Well, you can make your own mind up.”

“Goodness, how intriguing!” Peter looked quickly back at her, but her silver-gilt head was turned away.

Whatever did Miri mean?

To his perfectly tuned ears it sounded as though she hadn’t taken to the second Mrs Rylance at all. He reminded himself he had always respected Miri’s judgment…

Miranda was glad she had become familiar with the full on dazzle of Claridges black-and-white marble front hall, with its tall mirrors and superb Art Deco ironwork, so her head wasn’t swivelling like Peter’s. The hall led on to the sumptuous foyer, where she and Zara had enjoyed afternoon tea on several memorable occasions—once when a famous movie star had been seated at a table only a few feet away. She might have been reared on a small farm in rural Queensland, but she was taking the glittering London night life in her stride. This was a time to be enjoyed. A time to capture and relive in memory.

She and Zara had planned their outfits to complement one another. Like a magician pulling a bouquet of flowers out of a hat, Zara had taken from her wardrobe a deep emerald silk-satin dress with a short sparkly bolero that harmonised beautifully with Miranda’s dress, which was the gorgeous shade of a blue-purple iris. The bodice was tiny, strapless, the short, flirty, tiered skirt cinched with a wide satin diamante-clasped belt to show off her enviably small waist.

Beautiful dresses were powerful confidence-builders. Zara, born into wealth, had been wearing beautiful clothes all her life. It was all very recent for Miranda. As a student she’d bought cheap, but her petite figure and inherent good taste had turned cheap into stylish. Her girlfriends had thought so anyway. They had often enlisted her aid—down to actually borrowing an outfit when they were going out on a special date.

Corin had picked the dress out of several, all of them beautiful. His choice had been so wickedly expensive she had tried to talk him out of it. And then there were the accessories to complete the exclusive image!

“It’s terribly, terribly
you
, my dear,” the saleswoman had told her, looking very expensive and sophisticated herself. She had turned on the charm for Corin from the moment they had walked through the door. And Corin had played up to her, Miranda was sure. He had a streak of devilment.

When Leila first caught sight of Miranda, she gave her the blankest stare—as if in no way had she expected Miranda to look so exquisitely and so expensively turned out.

Miranda now knew with certainty she was looking her absolute best.

She’s not happy!

Miranda, who had been lightly holding Peter’s hand, as her evening date, felt him squeeze it. Perhaps letting her know a light had been switched on in his head.

It had been. So
this
was the second Mrs Rylance! Peter regarded her, fascinated. A stunning woman, a bit on the dangerous side. Facing down the competition probably dominated her life. Sad, that! He could just imagine her on the rampage. She was wearing black, intricately draped, off the shoulder, showing a generous amount of golden cleavage. Her thick, burnished hair was swept smoothly back from her high forehead and coiled at the back, no doubt to showcase her bedazzling diamond jewellery: earrings like chandeliers, which swung with every movement of her head, and a necklace that danced and glittered with light. It must have set her very imposing magnate husband back millions.

Ah, well, what was a million or two? A billionaire needed a wife who could dazzle. The second Mrs Rylance without question did that.

“What do I do? Bow down on one knee?” Peter whispered, head bent, shoulders hunched, so Miranda could hear him.

“Just hope she likes you.”

Was that a warning?

Cocktails were served in the bar, with its deep red leather banquettes and silver-leafed ceiling. Every drink available was on the offer—the classics and the latest concoctions—all served perfectly chilled in crystal. Each table was decorated with a single red rose at its centre, but they found their way over to a reserved banquette.

“Sit here,” murmured Corin in Miranda’s ear, settling her deftly between him and Peter. Leila, thank the Lord, was busy saying something to his father, so missed the smooth manoeuvre. “I’d suggest a champagne cocktail.”

“Lovely!” Miranda smiled, sinking into the seat. She had been extremely careful not to let her eyes rest on Corin overlong. This wasn’t the time to invite catastrophe. He looked strikingly handsome, his resemblance to his father apparent. The Rylances were one good-looking family. Zara had to be one of the most beautiful women in a room full of glamorous and beautiful women, Miranda thought.

Dalton Rylance’s first act on greeting Miranda had surprised even his children, and brought a glint to Leila’s eyes that had been veiled in a second. Even so Peter had caught it, and felt like ducking. Rylance hadn’t taken Miranda’s small extended hand, as expected, but had bent to kiss her on both cheeks, clearly enjoying the sensation of satiny smooth young skin against his lips.

“You look exquisite, my dear.” He straightened, smiling down into her eyes. “Your young man here must be very proud of you.”

“Oh, I am, sir!” Peter spoke up, playing his part to the hilt. “And may I say how happy I am to be invited?” He sounded it, but not overwhelmed. Peter, since his exceptional musical gifts had been acknowledged, had come a long way in confidence. Besides, he came from a prominent family back home—though they certainly weren’t swimming in the Rylances’ ocean of money.

“Good. Good,” Dalton Rylance clipped off, his attention not to be diverted from Miranda, who was looking irresistibly young and sexy. He had given his daughter, Zara, just one perfunctory kiss on the cheek.

What an act of kindness!

Playing to the public, of course.

Gran had come along for the evening, apparently having no difficulty in moving between parallel universes.

Miranda couldn’t help but be aware that many eyes had strayed in their direction. Dalton Rylance and his ultra-glamorous wife were frequent guests of the hotel, and the small party with him tonight included his strikingly handsome son and his very beautiful daughter, who was a regular on London’s social circuit, along with two young guests—all of them a treat for the eye.

The very generously sized restaurant featured more of the Art Deco for which the hotel was famous. Miranda loved the bronze-and-gilt metal doors, the mirrored murals and the lighting. The food was predictably superb, and Dalton Rylance ordered the finest wines to go with the successive courses from the French menu. The hotel had an outstanding cellar. It was being given a real work-out that night.

Miranda was surprised at how much Leila drank, although she didn’t appear affected. Zara drank sparingly, but she clearly enjoyed the beautiful wines, as did Miranda. Neither young woman had any intention of matching Leila, or they would have slipped under the table.

The extraordinary thing was, the evening went very well. Dalton Rylance, as host, was in excellent form, as was their hostess, and his clever, sophisticated son carried a good deal of the wide-ranging conversation. Indeed, Leila turned frequently to Corin, smiling, begging him to cap off some story. Family solidarity. Here was a stepmother everyone might long for. But to those who knew her she was playing a role for which any major actress would have taken home an Academy Award. Not once did Leila slip. She laughed. She talked. She revelled in her beauty, power and position of prestige. Such things were what she lived for. It was her destiny.

But beneath the façade Leila Rylance was stewing in a white-hot fury. Practised as she was in concealing her emotions, she was fighting hard to contain them. Now, of all times, the daughter she had given birth to all those years ago had appeared on the scene to
ruin
things. Her daughter’s ability to catch her husband’s eye was one thing. Nothing could possibly come of that. Dalton had always had an eye for a pretty woman. Only there had been a fleeting moment when she had intercepted a glance between Corin and Miranda.

A split second to a woman like Leila was all it took. It had turned her warm, glowing flesh to ice. Even her vision had darkened. Yet with a tremendous effort of will she’d managed to choke down the shocked gasp in her throat—but not the tidal wave of jealousy. She was forced to sit there, holding down her explosive feelings with all her strength.

Corin had had a number of affairs. They had never lasted. But, to her infinitely keen eye where Corin was concerned, she had accepted in a nano-second that he found Miranda, the daughter she had abandoned, powerfully attractive. She had seen desire in too many men’s eyes not to be able to recognise the faintest glint. Corin wanted Miranda. Had he already had her? Of course he had. They were lovers, the devious little bitch. Though God knows didn’t that prove Miranda was indeed her child? she thought bitterly. Both of them were born schemers.

With her obsessive mind-set she had convinced herself that one day Corin would surrender to the forbidden attraction between then. The day would come when he allowed himself to be lured into her bed. She lived for it. Her very nature had as its bedrock
sex
. Sex with Corin would be fabulous! It had to be experienced.

The young man Peter was simply a blind. He and Miranda were friends. No more. The young man loved her, of course, but Miranda simply treated him with affection. How different was the relationship between Corin and Miranda! She couldn’t miss the depth of desire in Corin’s brilliant dark eyes, the fleeting but profoundly revealing response from Miranda. Miranda was head over heels in love with him. Every bit as much in love with him as
she
was.

How had it all happened? When? What was the game they were playing?

She wouldn’t tolerate it. It had to be stopped. No way could she allow the glittering life she had built up for herself to fall apart. If anyone was going to get hurt, it wouldn’t be her. When the timing was ripe she would expose Miranda as a nasty little blackmailer.
She
had set up the whole thing. Used Corin and Zara for her own ends. It would have to be sooner rather than later. Dalton might be in sexual thrall to her now, but how long was that going to continue? She was in her prime. But even she couldn’t hold back the hands of time. Her husband’s passion for her would pass. Before that she had to save her own skin.

Corin had booked a limousine for the evening. They were to drop Peter off first, at the flat he shared with three other very promising students from the Royal College.

“She
knows
!” Peter grabbed the opportunity to whisper in Miranda’s ear.

The limousine was sliding to a halt a few feet away, Corin and Zara were moving towards it, waiting for them to catch up.

“Knows what?” She spoke sharply, because she had already intuited the answer.

“About you and Corin. The fact you’re in love. Tread carefully, Miri,” he warned, kissing her cheek. “That’s one dangerous woman, in my opinion. How the hell doesn’t her husband know?”

“None so blind as those who refuse to see,” Miranda answered, very sombrely. “Thank you for being so supportive, Peter. I love you dearly.”

“Ditto!” said Peter, flashing her a sympathetic smile.

She and Corin might have Leila Rylance to contend with, but in his view Miranda and Corin would make a wonderful couple. Maybe it was time for him to work on his increasingly friendly relationship with Natalia, one of his flatmates. Natalia Barton was a brilliant young pianist. She had acted on several occasions as his accompanist, and a fine job she had done too. They were very much in harmony—as musicians and as people. Music was to be their lives.

CHAPTER SEVEN

W
HEN
the three of them arrived home, they all headed into the drawing room to go over the evening’s events. Corin mixed himself a single malt Scotch and ice. Zara and Miranda settled for mineral water.

“Do you hate your mother for what she did to you, Miri?” Zara asked presently, setting down her glass on a little giltwood marble-topped table.

“I can’t forgive her, Zara, but I don’t hate her. I can’t forgive her for the terrible hurt and worry she inflicted on my grandparents. She doesn’t appear to have any remorse.”

“God, no!” Corin agreed bluntly. “Leila doesn’t trouble herself with such things. Everything begins and ends with her. She truly believes it was her destiny to have power and money. She must have dreamt about it, hungered after it from girlhood, determined she would get it.”

“So what does she say about your father?” Zara asked in her lovely gentle voice.

Miranda’s turquoise eyes glittered with inner disturbances. “That he was very young, like her. That she didn’t even tell him she was pregnant. He never knew. Now it turns out he’s dead,” she added starkly. “A skiing accident in New Zealand.”

Corin’s black brows drew together as he felt a searing stab of hurt. “You could have told me.”

“I wasn’t hiding anything, Corin.” Miranda turned to him quickly, seeing his reaction. “I wanted a little time to take it in myself. It also appears my paternal grandfather is a highly respected medical man.”

“Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?” he said. “It’ll be easy enough now to trace your father’s family. That’s if you want to?”

“
Do
you want to, Miri, dear?” Zara asked, sadly aware a new tension had arisen between Miranda and her brother. One needn’t wonder why. Leila had brought so much unhappiness on them all. Hadn’t she felt the virulence in her stepmother all through the evening? The venom behind the practised charm? Miranda wasn’t a long-lost daughter. Miranda was a challenger—the stand-in ready to oust the star.

“I don’t know, Zara,” Miranda confessed. “Leila said they wouldn’t want to know me any more than they wanted to know her. It was my father’s mother—
my grandmother
—that she spoke to. She was the one who gave Leila money. Some grandmother!” she lamented. “How could she ignore
me
?”

Corin took her hand, soothing the palm with his thumb. “At that time the woman was thinking only of her son and the impact on his life. A lot of mothers are like that. He was very young. He had his whole life in front of him. She wouldn’t have allowed him to be burdened with a pregnant girlfriend and a child. It’s very possible she has deeply regretted her actions through the years. Especially as her son lost his life.”