‘A bit, I guess,’ he said. ‘They were good about it. Supportive.’
A little silence passed.
‘What about us?’ she said. ‘Did you tell them we were...?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Have you?’
Miranda shook her head. ‘It’s not that I’m ashamed or anything... I just don’t feel comfortable discussing my sex life with my older brothers.’
‘Fair enough.’
She waited another beat or two before asking, ‘Will you take me to the place where Rosie went missing?’
His frown carved a deep trench in his forehead. ‘Why?’
‘Because it might help you get some closure.’
He turned his gaze back to the view outside the window but his arm was still around her. She felt it tighten momentarily, as if he had come to a decision inside his head. ‘Yes...’
* * *
Leandro could feel his heart banging against his chest wall like a church bell struck by a madman. A cold sweat was icing down between his shoulder blades and his stomach was pitching as he walked to the place where Rosie and he had been sitting. The beach wasn’t crowded like that fateful day in summer but the memories came flooding back. He could hear the sound of children playing—the sound of splashing and happy shrieking—the sound of the water lapping against the shore and the cracking sound of the beach stones shifting under people’s feet.
Miranda slipped her arm through his, moving close to his body. ‘Here?’ she said.
‘Here.’ Leandro waited for the closure she’d spoken of but all he felt was the ache. The ache of loss, the noose of guilt that choked him so he could barely breathe. He could see his mother’s face. The horror. The fear. The dread. He could see the ice-creams dropping from her hands to the sun-warmed stones on the shore. Funny how he always remembered that moment in such incredible detail, as if a camera lens inside his head had zoomed in at close range. One of the cones had landed upside down, the other had landed sideways, and the scoop of chocolate ice-cream had slid down the surface of a dark blue stone.
He could still see it melting there.
He could hear the shouts and cries. He could feel the confusion and the panic. It roared in his ears like he was hearing everything through a distorting vacuum. He could hear the shrieking sirens. He could see the flashes as police cars and an ambulance came screaming down the esplanade.
If only the ocean could talk. If only it could tell what it had witnessed all those years ago. What secrets were hidden below that deep blue vault?
‘Are you okay?’ Miranda’s soft voice brought him back to the present.
Leandro put his arm around her shoulders and brought her close to his side as they stood looking at the vastness of the ocean. ‘My father used to come down here every day,’ he said after a moment or two of silence. ‘He would walk the length of the beach calling out for her. Every morning and every afternoon and every night. Sometimes I would go with him when I wasn’t at school. I don’t know if he kept doing it after Mum and I left. Probably.’
She slipped her arm around his waist and leaned her head against his upper arm, as she couldn’t quite reach his shoulder. She didn’t say anything but he felt her emotional support. It was a new feeling for him, having someone close enough to understand the heartbreak of his past.
‘I left a part of myself here that day and I can’t get it back,’ he said after another little silence.
Miranda turned to look up at him with tears shining in her eyes. ‘You will get it back. You just have to stop blaming yourself.’
Easier said than done, Leandro thought as they walked back the way they had come.
CHAPTER EIGHT
A COUPLE OF days later, Miranda had finished packing up the last of the paintings ready for the shipping people to collect when she got a phone call from Jaz. Miranda gave her a quick rundown on Leandro’s tragic background.
‘Gosh, that’s so sad,’ Jaz said. ‘I thought he was a bit distant because of his dad being a drunk. I didn’t realise there was more to it than that.’
‘Yes, I did too, but I think it’s good he’s finally talking about it,’ Miranda said. ‘He even took me to the place on the beach where his sister went missing. I was hoping it would give him some closure but I know he still blames himself. Maybe he always will.’
‘Understandable, really,’ Jaz said. ‘So how are you two getting along?’
Miranda was glad she wasn’t using the video-call option on her phone. ‘Fine. I’ve sent off the paintings. Now we’re sorting through his father’s antiques. Some of them are amazing. His dad might have had a drinking problem but he sure knew how to track down a treasure or two.’
‘Has Leandro made a move on you yet?’
Miranda thought of the moves Leandro had made on her last night and that morning. Achingly tender moves, on account of her soreness. It had made it harder to keep her emotions in check. He was so thoughtful and caring; how could she not begin to imagine them having a life together? ‘You have a one-track mind,’ she said. ‘Did you get the dress done?’
‘Yep. I’m working on a design for Holly as we speak,’ Jaz said. ‘Now, tell me all about it.’
Miranda frowned. ‘All about what?’
‘What you and Leandro have been getting up to apart from sorting out dusty old antiques and paintings.’
‘We’re not getting up to anything.’
‘Hey, this is me—your best friend—you’re talking to,’ Jaz said. ‘We’ve known each other since we were eight years old. You would’ve at least hugged him. You wouldn’t be able to help yourself after he told you about his little sister. Am I right, Miss “Compassion and Tears at the Drop of a Hat” Ravensdale?’
‘Anyone would do the same,’ Miranda said. ‘It doesn’t mean I’m sleeping with him.’
‘Aha!’ Jaz said. ‘Methinks more than a hug. A kiss, perhaps?’
Miranda knew it would be pointless denying it. Jaz was too astute to be fobbed off. ‘We kissed and...stuff.’
‘Stuff?’
‘It’s not serious,’ she said. ‘It’s just a thing.’
‘A thing?’
‘A fling...sort of, but I hate that word, as it sounds so shallow.’
‘Seriously?’ Jaz said. ‘You’re sleeping with Leandro?’
Miranda frowned at the incredulity in her friend’s tone. ‘Isn’t that what you thought I was doing?’
‘You’re actually doing the deed with Leandro Allegretti?’ Jaz said. ‘Oh. My. God. I think I’m going to pass out with shock.’
‘It’s just sex,’ Miranda said. ‘It’s not as if we’re dating or anything.’
‘But what about Mark?’ Jaz said. ‘I thought you said there was never going to be another—’
‘I’m not breaking my promise to Mark,’ she said. ‘Not really.’
‘Listen, I never thought much of your promise in the first place,’ Jaz said. ‘Mark was nice and all, and it was awful that he died, but Leandro? Seriously? He’s ten years older than you.’
‘So?’ Miranda shot back. ‘Jake was ten years older than you when you had that silly little crush on him when you were sixteen.’
There was a tight little silence.
Miranda knew she shouldn’t have thrown Jaz’s crush on her brother in her face. She knew how much it upset Jaz to have been so madly infatuated with Jake back then. Even though Jaz had never told her what had actually happened in her brother’s bedroom that night, it had obviously been something she wanted to forget. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘That was mean of me.’
‘Are you in love with him?’ Jaz said.
‘No.’
‘Sure?’
The thing was, Miranda wasn’t sure. She had always cared about Leandro. He was part of the family, a constant in her childhood, someone she had always respected and admired. She had loved him like a brother. Now her feelings for him were different. More mature. More adult.
But in love?
Or was it because of the amaz
ing sex? She had read somewhere that good sex was deeply bonding. The more orgasms you had with a lover, the more you bonded with them. She wouldn’t be the first woman to mistake physical compatibility for love.
‘We’re friends as well as lovers,’ Miranda said.
‘What’s going to happen when he breaks it off?’ Jaz said. ‘Will you still be friends?’
‘Of course,’ Miranda said. ‘Why wouldn’t we be?’
‘What if you want more?’
Miranda had already starting day-dreaming them as a couple—as a permanent couple. Becoming engaged. Getting married. Going through life as a team, building a future together. Having children and raising them in a household with love and security—all the things he had missed out on.
But then there was her promise to Mark to consider. She would have to tell Mark’s parents she was ready to move on with her life. She would have to stop feeling guilty for being alive when Mark was not. She would have to confront the fact that maybe she hadn’t loved Mark the way she had thought. That they hadn’t been soul mates but just two teenagers who had dated. ‘I don’t want more.’
‘What if Leandro does?’ Jaz asked.
‘He doesn’t,’ she said. ‘He’s not the commitment type.’
‘That could change.’
‘It won’t,’ she said. ‘He only ever dates a woman for a month or two.’
‘So you’re his Miss October.’
Miranda didn’t care for her friend’s blunt summation of the situation. But that was Jaz. She didn’t sugar-coat anything—she doused it in bitter aloes. ‘Stop worrying about me,’ Miranda said. ‘I know what I’m doing. But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t let it slip to my brothers, okay?’
‘Fine,’ Jaz said. ‘I only ever speak to one of your brothers, in any case. But are you going to tell Mark’s parents?’
Miranda bit down on her lip as she thought about that poignant ICU bedside scene seven years ago. Her promise to Mark had comforted his parents. They still got comfort from having her call on them, spending time with them on Mark’s birthday and the anniversary of his death. How could she tell them she was falling in love with someone else? It would shatter them all over again. It would be better to let this short phase in her life come and go without comment. She couldn’t bear to hurt them when they had been so loving and kind towards her. They needed her. She saw the way their faces lit up every time she called in. She lifted their spirits. She gave them a break from the depressing emptiness of their life without their son. ‘Why would I tell them?’ Miranda said.
‘What if someone sees you with Leandro?’ Jaz said. ‘He’s been photographed in the press before. He’s one of London’s most eligible bachelors. You and him being linked would be big news, especially right now, with your dad’s stuff doing the rounds. Everyone wants to know what the scandalous Ravensdales are up to.’
Miranda groaned. ‘Did you have to remind me?’
‘Sorry, but you guys are seriously hot property just now,’ Jaz said. ‘Even I’m being targeted on account of being an adjunct to the family.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. I’m thinking I might meet up with this Kat chick,’ Jaz said. ‘She sounds kind of cool.’
‘Why do you think that?’ Miranda said, feeling a sharp sting of betrayal deep in her gut.
‘I like her ballsy attitude,’ Jaz said. ‘She’s not going to be told what to do no matter how much money your family’s hot-shot lawyer, Flynn Carlyon, waves under her nose.’
Miranda couldn’t bear the thought of Jaz kicking goals for the opposition. Jaz was an honorary family member. She was the sister she had always longed for. Ever since Jaz’s mother had dropped her off for an access visit at Ravensdene and never returned, Miranda and Jaz had been a solid team. When the mean girls had bullied Miranda at boarding school, Jaz had stepped up and dealt with them. Jaz had been there for her when Mark had got sick and had been there for her when he died. Jaz had been everything and more that a blood sister would be. The prospect of her becoming friendly with Miranda’s father’s love child was unthinkable. Unpalatable. Unbearable. ‘Well, I don’t want to meet her,’ she said. ‘I can’t think of anything worse.’
‘I can,’ Jaz said. ‘Leandro lost his little sister and here you are pushing away what you’ve always wanted. It doesn’t make sense. The least you could do is make the first move. Be the bigger person and all that.’
Miranda frowned. ‘I don’t need a sister. Why would I? I have you.’
‘But we’re not blood sisters,’ Jaz said. ‘You shouldn’t turn your back on blood. Only crazy people do that.’
Miranda knew there was a wealth of hurt in Jaz’s words. Jaz put on a brash don’t-mess-with-me front but deep down she was still that little bewildered eight-year-old girl who had been dropped off at the big mansion in Buckinghamshire and had watched as her mother drove away from her down the long driveway into a future that didn’t include her. Miranda had heard Jaz cry herself to sleep for weeks. It had been years before Jaz had told her some of the things her mother had subjected her to: being left in the care of strangers while her mother had turned tricks to feed her drug habit; being punished for things no child should ever be punished for. Jaz had suffered horrendous neglect because her mother had been too busy, or too manic, or off her face with drugs, to care about her welfare.
But Miranda didn’t want to meet the result of her father’s infidelity to her mother. If she met Katherine Winwood she would be betraying her mother. Elisabetta was devastated by Richard’s behaviour. How could she not be when at the time of his affair with Kat’s mother he had been reconciling with her?
Miranda had spent most of her life trying to please her mother, living up to the unreachable standards of her beautiful, talented and extroverted mother. This was one way to get the relationship with her mother she had yearned for. If she met with her father’s love child it would undo everything she had worked so hard to achieve.
Besides, Kat Winwood hadn’t expressed any desire to meet her half-siblings. She was apparently doing her level best to avoid all contact with the Ravensdales.
Long may it continue, Miranda thought.
* * *
Leandro had just finished talking on the phone to an estate agent when Miranda came into the study. ‘I think I’ve got a buyer for the villa,’ he said, putting his phone down on the desk. ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’
She came and perched on the edge of the walnut desk, kicking one of her slim ankles back and forth, her mouth pushed forward in a pout. ‘Jaz thinks I should meet Katherine Winwood. She thinks I should make the first move.’
He took her nearest hand and stroked the back of it with his thumb. ‘I think that would be a really good thing to do,’ he said.
‘But what about Mum?’ she said, frowning. ‘She’ll think I’m betraying her if I become best buddies with her husband’s love child. God, this is such a mess. Why can’t I have normal parents?’
‘Your mother will have to deal with it,’ Leandro said. ‘None of this is Kat’s fault, remember.’
Miranda let out a long breath. ‘I know, but I hate how Dad wants everything to be smoothed over as if he didn’t do anything wrong. He doesn’t just want his cake and eat it too, he wants to decorate it and hand out pieces to everyone as well.’
‘People do wrong stuff all the time,’ Leandro said. ‘There comes a time when you have to forgive them for it and move on. For everyone’s sake.’
She brought her gaze back to his. ‘Is that what you’re doing? Forgiving yourself as well as your father?’
Am I? Leandro thought. Was it time to accept some things were outside his control and always had been? He hadn’t been able to protect his sister. He hadn’t been able to save his parents’ marriage. He hadn’t been able to protect his father from self-destructing. He hadn’t come home in time to say goodbye to his father, but he was here now, surrounded by the things his father had treasured. Being here in the place where his father had spent so man
y lonely years had given Leandro a greater sense of who his father was. Vittorio Allegretti hadn’t planned to live alone. He hadn’t planned to drink himself into an early grave. He had once been a young man full of enthusiasm for life, and then life had thrown him things that had made him stumble and fall and he simply hadn’t been able to get back up again. ‘Maybe a little,’ Leandro said.
A little silence passed.
Miranda looked down at their joined hands. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I kind of told Jaz we’re seeing each other...’
Leandro frowned. ‘Kind of?’
She met his gaze, her cheeks a faint shade of pink. ‘It’s impossible to keep anything a secret from Jaz. She knows me too well. She put two and two together and...well... I confessed we’re having a thing.’
Is that what we’re having? he thought. A thing? Why did it feel much more than that? It didn’t feel like any other relationship he’d had in the past. It felt closer. More meaningful. More intimate. He felt like a different person when he was with her. He felt like a whole person, not someone who had compartmentalised himself into tidy little boxes that didn’t intersect.
Why did it make him feel empty inside at the thought of bringing their ‘thing’ to an end?
‘I don’t like calling it a fling,’ Miranda continued. ‘And given what my father did I absolutely loathe the word affair. It sounds so...so tawdry.’
Leandro didn’t like the words either. He didn’t like using the word ‘affair’ or ‘fling’ to describe what he was experiencing with Miranda. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing tawdry or illicit about his involvement with her. He had always had a relationship with her—a friendship that was distant but polite. He had always cared about her because she was a sweet girl who was a part of the family he adored. Even her parents—for all their foibles—were very dear to him. Miranda’s brothers were his best mates. He didn’t want his involvement with her to jeopardise the long-standing mateship he valued so much.
But defining what he had with her now was complicated. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted. Her gentle and compassionate nature was soothing to be around. But she deserved to have all the things girls her age wanted. He couldn’t commit to that sort of relationship. It wouldn’t be fair to her to allow her to think he could. He had been honest with her. Allowing their involvement to go on when they returned to England would be offering her false hope. Postponing the inevitable. It would make it harder to let go if he held on too long.
Awakening the Ravensdale Heiress (The Ravensdale Scandals) Page 12