The Rumours Collection

‘Then I’ll have to make sure you do,’ Miranda said softly as his mouth came down and sealed hers.

CHAPTER SEVEN

LEANDRO HADN’T PLANNED to spend the night with Miranda but, just like when he had run into her in London, it had come out of his mouth as if his brain had no say in it at all. So much for the rules, he thought as he watched her sleeping. He never spent the full night with anyone. It wasn’t just because he was too restless a sleeper. He didn’t want to get too connected, too comfortable with having someone beside him when he woke up. He didn’t allow himself to think of long, lazy mornings in bed. Not just making love but talking, dreaming, planning. Hoping.

She looked so beautiful his heart squeezed. Had he done the wrong thing in engaging in an affair with her? He had been so adamantly determined to keep his distance as he had always done in the past. But being alone with her changed everything. That first touch...that first heart-stopping kiss...had made him realise how deep and powerful their connection was. Hadn’t he always sensed that connection? Wasn’t that why he had respectfully kept clear of her? He hadn’t wanted to start something he couldn’t finish.

But now it had started.

He didn’t want to think about how it was going to finish, but finish it must, as all his relationships did.

Her inexperience hardly put them on an equal footing. But he wanted her to realise how crazy it was to put a pause button on her life. He hated seeing her waste her potential because of a silly little schoolgirl promise that had been well meant but totally misguided. She was young—only twenty-three years old. At thirty-three, Leandro felt ancient in comparison. She was far too young to be living like a nun. Her whole life was ahead of her. She had experienced tragedy, yes, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t find happiness again—if in fact she had actually been happy with Mark Redbank.

The more Leandro reflected on that teenage relationship, the more he suspected how imbalanced it had been. Miranda was a sucker for romance. She had always been the type of girl who cried at soppy movies, or even at commercials with puppies or kittens in them. She had a big heart and gave it away all too easily. He didn’t believe she had been truly in love with Mark. At sixteen who knew what they wanted or even who they were? She had wanted to feel special to someone and Mark had offered her that chance. Mark’s parents had welcomed her into the bosom of their family and it had made her feel normal.

Normal was important to someone like Miranda. She didn’t enjoy the notoriety of her father and mother and the baggage that came with it. Mark’s illness had cemented her commitment to him but Leandro truly believed their relationship would not have lasted if Mark had survived.

But was sleeping with her himself going to convince her she was wasting her life?

He had crossed a boundary he couldn’t uncross. Their relationship would never be the same. They could never go back to being platonic friends. The intimacy they had shared would always be between them. Would other people see it? Did it matter if they did? Her brothers might have something to say about it but only because they were protective of her. They might even be quite glad he had encouraged her to live a little.

He hadn’t coerced her into sleeping with him. They were both consenting adults. He had given her plenty of opportunity to pull back. But he was glad she hadn’t. Making love with her was different somehow. It wasn’t just her lack of experience, although he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t delighted him. It had given their union a certain quality he hadn’t experienced with any other partner. Their love-making had had an almost sacred element to it. Or maybe it was because he had opened up a part of himself he had never opened before. He had never shared the pain of his childhood with anyone before. He had never shared his loss. He had never shared his guilt. He had never felt more exposed as a man, yet Miranda’s gentle compassion had reached deep inside him like a soothing balm on a raw and seeping wound.

Miranda stirred in her sleep and he watched as the dark fans of her lashes flickered against her cheek. She slowly opened her eyes and blinked at him owlishly. ‘What time is it?’

He brushed her mussed-up hair off her face. ‘Three-thirty or so.’

She stroked one of her hands down his bare chest, making every cell in his body stand to attention. ‘Couldn’t you sleep?’ she asked with a little frown of concern.

That was another thing that set her apart from his previous partners, Leandro thought. She genuinely cared about him. Worried about him. Put her needs and interests aside to concentrate on his. He smoothed her frown away with the blunt end of his thumb. ‘I got a couple of hours.’

She lowered her gaze from his and tugged at her lower lip with her teeth. ‘Is my being in your bed disturbing you?’

Leandro cupped her face, bringing her gaze back up to his. ‘Only in a good way.’

Her cheeks developed a pink tinge. ‘I could go back to my room if you’d like...’

He ran an idle fingertip from behind her ear to her chin, watching as she gave a little shiver, as if his touch had sent a current through her flesh. It thrilled him to think his touch did the same things hers did to him. That their bodies were so finely tuned to each other that the mere brush of a fingertip could evoke such a response. ‘That would be a shame,’ he said.

She licked her lips with a quick dart of her tongue, her toffee-brown eyes luminous. ‘Why?’

‘Because I wouldn’t be able to do this,’ he said, lowering his mouth to hers.

Her arms went around his neck as she gave herself up to his kiss, her soft little sigh making his blood pound all the harder. He deepened the kiss with a stroke of his tongue against her lips and she opened on another sigh and nestled closer, her lower body searching for his. He put his hand on her naked bottom, drawing her to his straining erection. The feel of her skin on his skin made him want to break all of his rules. The condom rule in particular. But he never had unprotected sex. That was one line he never crossed. He pulled back to get one from his wallet, mentally making a note to replenish his supply.

Miranda looked at him with her clear brown gaze. ‘Do you ever make love without a condom?’

‘Never.’

‘What about for oral sex?’

The thought of her gorgeous mouth surrounding him made him rock-hard. But he would never pressure her to do it. ‘Always,’ he said.

She rolled her lips together for a moment. ‘Do you want me to...?’

‘Not unless you want to,’ he said. ‘It’s not for everyone.’

‘But I’d like to,’ she said, reaching for him, her soft little hand sending shivers up and down his spine. ‘You pleasured me that way. I want to learn how to do it properly.’

‘Did you do it with—?’

‘No,’ she said quickly, her gaze moving out of reach of his. ‘I only ever used my hand.’

Leandro inched up her chin again. ‘You don’t need to feel bad about that. You should only ever do what you’re comfortable with. No one should force or pressure you into doing something that doesn’t feel right.’

She stroked her hand down the length of his shaft. ‘I want to do it to you.’

His heart rate soared. His blood quickened. His skin peppered with anticipatory goose bumps. ‘You don’t have to.’

‘I want to,’ she said, sliding down his body, her warm breath teasing him as she positioned herself.

He drew in a sharp breath as she sent her tongue down him from the tip to the base. Her warm breath puffed over him as she came back up to circle her tongue around the head, her lips closing over him and then drawing on him. Even with a condom the sensations were electrifying, the sight of her so stimulating he had to fight hard for control. He tried to ease away to give her the chance to take a break but she hummed against him and held on, her mouth taking him over the edge into mind-blowing bliss.

He disposed of the condom once he could move again. His body was so satiated he felt like someone had undone every knob of his spine. Waves of lassitude swept through him, making him realise how long it had been since he had truly relaxed.

His sexual relationships had been pleasurable in a clinical, rather perfunctory way. He always made sure his partners got what they needed but sometimes he felt as if he was just going through the motions: drink, dinner, sex. It had become as simple and impersonal as that. He didn’t linger over deep and meaningful conversations. He didn’t spend the whole night with anyone. He didn’t allow himself to get that close. Close enough to want more. Close enough to need more.

But looking at Miranda beside him made him realise how much he was missing. His life was full of work and activity and yet...and yet deep down he felt something was missing. He had thought financial security would be enough. He had thought career success would satisfy him. But somehow it just made the empty space inside him seem bigger.

There was a canyon of dissatisfaction inside him. It echoed with the loneliness he felt, especially during the long hours of the night. He knew what would bridge it but he dared not risk it. He couldn’t be part of a long-term relationship because he couldn’t allow himself to risk letting someone down the way he had let Rosie and his parents down. How could he ever envisage a life with someone? A life with children was out of the question. How could he ever trust himself to keep them safe? He would always live with the gut-churning fear he might not be able to protect them. He had been responsible for so much heartache.

He couldn’t bear to inflict more on anyone else.

Miranda lifted her fingertip to his face, tracing the line of his frown. ‘Did I disappoint you?’

Leandro captured her hand and pressed his mouth to it. ‘Why would you think that?’

‘You went so still and quiet and you were frowning... I thought I must’ve done something wrong...’

He stroked his fingertip down the length of creamy cheek. ‘You blew me away, literally and figuratively.’

Her eyes brightened and a smile tilted up the corners of her mouth. ‘I did?’

He pressed her back down on the bed, hooking one of her legs over his. ‘And now it’s my turn to do the same to you.’

Miranda woke to bright sunlight pouring through the windows of Leandro’s bedroom. She turned her head to the pillow beside her but, apart from the indentation of where his head had been, the space was empty. She sat up and brushed her sleep-and sex-tousled hair out of her face. When she swung her legs over the bed she felt a faint twinge of discomfort. Her inner muscles had experienced quite a workout last night. Leandro’s love-making had been passionate and breathtakingly exciting and her body was still humming with aftershocks of pleasure.

It occurred to her it might not be so easy to put her fling with Leandro to one side when she returned to England. Would she blush every time she saw him, knowing he had pleasured every single inch of her body? That he alone knew exactly what made her cry out with ecstasy? That he alone knew what she looked like totally naked?

Would he look at her differently? Would he treat her differently? Would others notice? How on earth would she keep it a secret from Jaz? Or would Jaz guess as soon as she saw her?

Miranda went back to her own room to shower and dress. When she came downstairs she found Leandro in the study working on his laptop. He was so deep in concentration he didn’t notice her at first. But then he looked up and his heavy frown was replaced with a brief smile. ‘Sleep okay?’ he said.

‘Yes, but clearly you didn’t.’

He stood and rubbed the back of his neck with one of his hands. ‘I had some accounts to go through. It’s a big job I’m working on for Jake. I need to get it sorted as soon as possible.’

Miranda slipped her arms around his waist and nestled against his tall, lean frame. ‘You work too hard.’

He rested his chin on the top of her head as he drew her closer. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Fine.’

He eased back to search her gaze with the intensely dark probe of his. ‘Not sore?’

Miranda felt her cheeks heat up. ‘A little.’

He stroked her cheek with a gentle fingertip, his expression rueful. ‘I’m sorry.’

She pressed closer to link her arms around his neck, her pelvis flush against the hardness of his. ‘I’m not.’ She stepped up on tiptoe to brush her lips against his. ‘You were wonderful.’

He looked down at her with that persistent frown between his brows. ‘You don’t regret getting involved like this?’

‘Do you?’

He let out a long breath. ‘I’m worried it will change our relationship,’ he said. ‘In a negative way, I mean.’

‘We’ve always been friends, Leandro,’ Miranda said. ‘That’s not likely to change just because we took it to a new level for a week or two.’

He continued to look at her in a contemplative manner. ‘Do you think you’ll date someone else when you get back?’

Miranda frowned. ‘Why would I do that?’

‘Because now you’ve broken the drought, so to speak.’

She slipped out of his hold and folded her arms across her middle, throwing him a hardened glance. ‘So, I suppose you’ll call Nicole once we’re done?’

His eyes took on a flinty edge. ‘I’m not sure why that should be such a sticking point for you.’

Miranda let out a whooshing breath. ‘How can you settle for someone who just uses you to scratch an itch? How can you use her? Don’t you want more than that?’

‘Don’t you?’

‘I hate how you do that,’ she said. ‘You always shift the focus onto me because you’re not comfortable talking about what it is you really want. You think you don’t deserve to be happy because of what happened to your sister. It’s. Not. Your. Fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. Sacrificing your life won’t change the past.’

His top lip curled. ‘Will you listen to yourself? How about we play a little game of “it’s hypothetical”? If I were to ask you to commit to a long-term relationship with me, would you do it?’

Miranda stared at him for a dumbstruck moment. ‘I don’t— I’m not— You’re not—’

He gave a bark of cynical laughter. ‘The answer is no, isn’t it? You’re too invested in living the role of the martyr. I bet you won’t even tell your best friend what you got up to with me.’

Jaz will probably guess as soon as she sees me, Miranda thought. ‘But you would never ask me to commit to you... Would you?’

‘No.’

A sharp pain jabbed her under the ribs. Did he have to be so blunt? So adamant? ‘Wow,’ she said with a hint of scorn. ‘You really know how to boost a girl’s self-esteem.’

He swung away to stand with his back to her as he looked out of the window. He drew in a deep breath and let it out in a halted stream. ‘I knew this would be a mistake. I have this amazing ability to ruin every relationship I enter into.’

Miranda couldn’t bear to see him so tortured with such guilt and self-blame. Her heart ached for him. He was so torn up with regret and self-recrimination. He was so alone in his suffering, yet she wanted to stand by him, to help him work his way through it to a place of peace. She stepped up to him and stroked her hand down the tightly clenched muscles of his back. He flinched as if her touch had sent an electric shock through him. ‘You haven’t ruined our relationship,’ she said softly.

He put an arm around her and drew her close to the side of his body, leaning down to press a soft-as-air kiss to the top of her head. ‘I’m sorry, ma petite,’ he said. ‘None of this is your fault. It’s me. It’s this wretched, bloody house. It’s all the stuff I can’t fix.’

Miranda looked up at him with compassion. ‘Have you told Julius and Jake about your sister yet?’

‘I emailed them a couple of days ago.’

‘Did that help? Explaining it to them?’

‘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 amazing 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.