Australia’s Most Eligible Bachelor (16 page)

“Leila never tells the truth,” Zara warned. “If you need me I’m only a phone call away. And Corin will get away from his meeting as soon as he can. You love him, don’t you?”

Miranda’s beautiful eyes were on fire. “At first sight,” she admitted. “It was the most powerful connection of my life. Neither of us ever talked about it. That side of our friendship went unmentioned. I had my degree to get through. Corin was always under pressure. Venice was the happiest time of my life.” She paused before adding quietly, “But things change, don’t they, Zara? You know that. Therefore I must be prepared.”

“Don’t you
let
them change!” Zara advised. “I did—to my cost. One day I’ll tell you all about it. How I lost the love of my life.”

Miranda was sitting in an armchair in the sumptuous drawing room, with its antiques, fine art, glorious chandeliers, gilded mirrors, Aubusson carpet, golden yellow silk drapes falling from the ceiling to floor French windows, when a cab drew to a halt outside.

You knew she’d come.

She had to be channelling her grandmother. That was her voice. She could handle the paranormal now.

She stood up, facing the quiet, leafy crescent, as Leila, dressed in a black-and-white two-piece suit—unmistakably Chanel—emerged from the back seat, turning to pay the driver. She looked up at the grand white stucco building, then walked purposefully towards the short flight of front steps.

Don’t forget there’s a caged tigress inside.

Miranda believed she was locked into celestial wisdom. She went to the front door, opening it just as Leila was about to press the buzzer.

“Ah, Mrs Rylance. How lovely to see you. This
is
a surprise.” Miranda stood back as the much taller Leila swept by her, leaving a delightful trail of Chanel No. 5.

“Where have you come from and why are you here?” Leila bypassed all the niceties. She had control of her voice, but her right hand was clenching and unclenching.

Does she mean to sock you?

“Why don’t we go and sit down?” Miranda gestured towards the drawing room.

“Don’t tell me what to do in my own home!” Leila shot back in the most hostile voice possible. “Who sent you?”

“I think
I
should be the one asking questions here.” Miranda surprised herself with her own calm in the face of a storm.

Courage under fire.

Her grandmother again. She was having a lot to say today. Miranda waited for Leila to be seated before she resumed her armchair by the tall French windows. Who knew? She might have to jump out.

“I repeat—who sent you?” Leila was really angry, her golden-brown eyes lit like a bonfire. “What are you up to?”

“Why don’t we cut to the chase?” Miranda suggested. “I know you. You know me. Like any mother and daughter. I assume you’re not here to ask my forgiveness?”

Leila looked stunned by Miranda’s response and her composure. “What is it you want?”

“Good question.” Miranda sat back, finding the whole situation the stuff of fiction. Here was her
mother
. A total stranger.

“Money?” Leila sneered. “It’s always money. So just how much is it going to take for you to go away? Not just go away.
Stay
away.”

Miranda studied her mother’s impeccably made-up face. It had an underlying
scream
behind it. Leila was like a wild animal caught in a trap. But even in the golden light pouring into the room she still looked a good ten years younger than her age. Her long, lustrous hair was arranged in a smooth pleat. Her accessories were perfection. She had lovely legs, an ultra-slim, ultra-toned body.

“Gran loved you to the end,” Miranda told her in a saddened voice. “You can’t even ask about her. Or your father. Gran died a very painful death. Cancer. My grandfather preceded her by a few months. Lovely man—so gentle and kind. Both of them scrimping and saving to provide the best for me. You really deserve to be exposed, Leila. Afterwards there was just Gran and me, although I called her
Mum
all my life. I thought I was a change-of-life baby, you see. You might redeem yourself in a very small way if you told me the name of my father. Clearly you’ve never forgotten him. I must be his spitting image.”

Leila’s face froze. And it wasn’t due to Botox. She didn’t answer for a minute. “You have no father. He abandoned me.”

Miranda followed her instincts. She didn’t wait for the celestial voice to break in. “I don’t believe that for a minute. Maybe you never told him you were pregnant. Maybe you told him you were on the pill. Maybe you went very privately to his parents—mother most likely. Some mothers will do anything for their sons. His mother—my grandmother, God help me—paid you to get out of town. She wasn’t going to have her son’s life destroyed. How am I doing so far?”

“You could hardly do better.” Leila gave her a mirthless smile. “I wasn’t good enough to become part of
that
family, my dear. We’re lower class, you see. Farming stock as opposed to big sheep station owners. Therefore I didn’t belong in one of the richest families in New Zealand. A family that had produced the country’s best doctors and academics as well. I was nothing and nobody. She made that very clear. I waited too long to abort you. I was forced to go through with it. If you must know, your father is dead.”

That touched a deep, sensitive nerve. The pain was intense. “May I ask how?” Miranda asked quietly.

Leila shrugged an elegant shoulder. “The last time I saw him he was the picture of health. Killed in a skiing accident years later. A mountain of snow got dumped on him, poor man. Can’t say I was sorry to read it.”

True or false? You have to find out.

“Did you feel anything at all for him, or was it just another sexual thrill?” Miranda asked on impulse.

Leila made a small grimace. “Come on—it was a lifetime ago.”

“And haven’t you moved on! Could I have a name, please?”

Leila gave her a look sharp enough to cut to the bone. “Don’t even
think
of looking the family up. They won’t want to know you any more than they wanted to know me. Your grandfather is a big-time professor. Revered.”

“Well, then, it will be easy enough to track him down from what you’ve already told me.”

“More fool you!” Leila said scornfully, her face if not her voice tightly controlled. This was a woman never stricken by remorse. A woman who would never admit to the gravest mistakes. “Take my advice,” she said. “Let sleeping dogs lie.”

“I’m sure they’ll recognise me,” Miranda continued, as if Leila hadn’t spoken. “The sight of me stupefied
you
.”

For a second Leila looked as though she had been hit between the eyes all over again. “Oh, they’ll recognise you, all right,” she said, sounding more and more furious. “You look just like his sister. And him too, of course. That silver hair and the turquoise eyes. Very few people have eyes like that. I’m pleased in a way that you’ve turned out so well. That’s something that has come on me unawares. Good looks in a woman are a tremendous advantage. But what I have to know before we can talk any deal is this—who put you up to it? It was Zara, wasn’t it? You contrived a meeting with her back home. I would have done it. It was no accident of fate. A woman has to take fate into her own hands. It was your heaven-sent opportunity to spill the beans. Get revenge. I’d have played it that way. Zara’s your friend, isn’t she? Though she’s years older. Zara hates me. She’ll do anything to damage me with Dalton and…and Corin. She’s tried to poison her brother against me. It hasn’t worked. Of course she blames me for her saintly mother’s death.”

Some aspect of Leila was corrupt. “Well, it
did
happen after you became her father’s mistress,” Miranda came back.

Leila blinked, clearly shocked. “The woman’s death had
nothing
to do with me,” she cried angrily. “It was an accident. Pure and simple. Dalton was going to divorce her anyway. He fell madly in love with me, you see.”

Miranda stared back at her glamorous, youthful-looking mother.

Nothing good can come of this.

Miranda had come to the same conclusion. “Looks like he still is,” she said. “But I’m thinking you’re not and never have been in love with him?”

Leila’s answer was a languid, super-confident drawl. “My dear, you could never convince him of that. Outside of Corin, I’m the only person Dalton does care about.”

“Then it sounds like you’re a good pair. No heart, either of you. Just a high sex-drive.” Miranda’s tone was strongly condemnatory.

Leila wasn’t in the least perturbed. “Don’t, my dear, be fool enough to knock sex. It’s all most men think about. I should know. Dalton and I will remain a good pair for as long as it takes.” Her smile was very cold. “What I don’t understand is what you are doing in London. Got Zara to invite you, I suppose?
Money
is enormously seductive. Even being around it.”

There was a lot of truth in that. “Zara and Corin were born to wealth,” she said. “You and I weren’t. I have none of your illusions or ambitions, Leila. Zara and I
are
friends. I’ll be going home soon in any case.”

Leila made a derisive sound in her throat. “A whole lot richer, you’re hoping. What do you do, exactly? You’re very pretty, in a highly individual way, but you’re way too short to model.”

“Perish the thought! You’re not going to believe this, but I’m on my way to becoming a doctor,” Miranda said. “I already have my BS. That’s Bachelor of Science. Now I need my BM.”

Flickers of admiration appeared in Leila’s eyes. “Well, good for you!” she said, with as much warmth as she could ever muster.

“Thanks,
Mum
!”

“Spare me.” Leila waved a dismissive hand. “I was never cut out to be a mum. But you’ve turned out better than I thought. Seems it’s true, then. Blood will out.” She paused, her gaze sharpening. “But where’s the money coming from? My poor old mum and dad had nothing.”

Miranda’s eyes shone with an inner light. “They had nothing when they had
you
. But they worked their fingers to the bone so I could have a first-class education. You’d know nothing about that.” Somehow she managed to inject a cool touch of irony. “Actually, I won a scholarship with the Rylance Foundation.”

“What?”
A dark cloud passed slowly across Leila’s face. “Zara has nothing to do with the Foundation. You surely didn’t approach
Corin
?” Her lush lips were pressed into a tight line.

“What would be wrong if I did?” Miranda assumed an artless voice and lied. “Zara put forward my name. The rest was easy. I had all the qualifications that were needed.”

Leila was putting two and two together, making the inevitable five. “How well
do
you know Corin?” Her voice was a lot harder now. There was a near demonic look in her golden-brown eyes.

“I’m sure I don’t need to answer that.”

“Don’t play games with me, girlie,” Leila warned, her voice hinting at impending physical action.

“Who’s threatening who here?” Miranda asked, getting ready to defend herself and unafraid. She was still Mighty Mouse and she had her celestial gran on side. “You’re the one in the hot seat, Leila. Not me. I should tell you Zara knows you’re my mother.”

Leila looked as though she was about to faint.

“She had to be told,” Miranda said. “She’s my friend. We’re related in a way, thanks to you. Put your head down and take a few fortifying breaths,” she said, feeling pity despite herself. “In, out. In, out. Calm yourself.”

For a wonder, Leila obeyed. It took a few moments, then she lifted her head, looking as though all her defences had abruptly been swept away.

“That’s better. I don’t want to harm you, Leila,” Miranda said, knowing it to be true. “I’m not like you, you see. You need have no fear. Zara won’t say one word to her father. It’s agreed what action is to be taken—if any—will be taken by me.
I
am the victim here. The abandoned child.”

Leila gave the queerest laugh. “Suppose I have you killed? It could be arranged. An accident crossing the road…”

“Wouldn’t do you a bit of good.” Miranda’s glance slid over this beautiful woman with sick resignation. “It’s all on the record,” she improvised. “Anything untoward happens to me, the finger points right at you. So don’t talk foolishly. And, incidentally, criminally.”

Leila’s tight smile was more a sneer. “You think I’m fool enough to trust you? You could change your mind at any time. So could that stepdaughter of mine. So let’s come up with a solution. How much?”

A wave of anger swept Miranda, but she didn’t allow it to show. “How does ten million sound?”

“Ten million?” Leila sat back grimly, as if she was already deciding on the right hit man.

“That’s sterling, of course,” Miranda said. “Roughly double in the Aussie dollar. I’d be set up for life. You understand that, don’t you, Leila? That would have been your very thought the moment Dalton Rylance’s roving eye fell on you.
I can get this man. Be rich!
”

Leila stared back in genuine disbelief. “How could I get hold of that kind of money?”

“Sell a few jewels?” Miranda suggested. “You can’t ask your husband. I understand that. We could do it in stages, if you like. The odd million here, a couple of million there…”

“You’re
unbelievable
!” Leila spat.

“You astonish me, Mother,” Miranda said. “Look at yourself. What
you’ve
become. My role model. Your husband isn’t looking beyond the beautiful face and body. The acquired polish. What happens if and when he does? The most beautiful, seductive women have to age. None of us can escape the process. Once past their use-by date, they’re not wanted any more. Some men only want trophy figures, after all.”

Leila jerked up in volcanic anger. Outraged. And outflanked. “Cross me and you put your life on the line. You’d better know that.”

“At long last I’ve met my mother,” Miranda breathed. “A woman who considers she has never done anything that requires explanation. You broke your loving parents’ hearts. You’ve haunted me, but I’ve managed to keep my heart intact. No, Mother dear. No need to go back to the hotel and rifle through your little black book for a hit man. I want to make it perfectly clear to you I don’t want
anything
from you. So you can sit down again and relax. You have your life. I have mine. I’m not going to simply vanish, like you. I might pop up from time to time. But your former life—the life you’ve secreted away—is safe with me. Gran saw nothing of you in me. Thank God for that. Most women would find their only child the crowning glory of their life. Not you. It might strike me as shocking, but I accept it. Gran loved you to the end, you know? But she knew in her heart you weren’t worth a bumper.”