onto her feet after undergoing numerous operations, in the way that he now knew Miranda had needed to do four years ago.
A failure wouldn’t have studied and worked so hard in the years since, in order to earn a teaching certificate in the subject she loved, but could no longer participate in herself.
A failure wouldn’t have spent most of her share of the inheritance left to her and her sister by her parents five years ago to open up this dance studio.
The Internet truly was an intrusive thing...
Even if he had made the start of his fortune out of it!
And the ballerina Miranda Jacobs, and the tragic accident during her performance of Swan Lake, had once been part of that public domain. Not so much once she had begun her long recovery and disappeared from the newspaper headlines; stories in the tabloids were always fleeting, instant things, with none of those newspapers interested in reporting anything long-term.
Darius had his own method of finding out anything that he wanted to know. And, within days of meeting her, he had wanted to know everything there was to know about Miranda.
‘I doubt you have ever failed at anything in your life,’ he repeated.
‘So you prefer we think of it as my just having made a career change?’ she mocked. ‘A step sideways, if you’ll excuse the pun?’
‘I prefer to think of it as you working with what you have left,’ Darius dismissed briskly; annoying as Miranda was being, he was determined not to argue with her. ‘So, about this dinner on Saturday?’
‘You mentioned I might be interested in the charity?’
Darius masked his inner triumph as Miranda showed a grudging interest. ‘It’s in aid of disabled and underprivileged children.’
A charity that did interest her, Andy admitted irritably, and one she already worked with; she gave over one of her sessions a week to working with disabled and/or underprivileged children.
Had Darius already known that?
Of course he had. He was a man who would make it his business to know anything he wanted to know. And for some reason he had wanted to know about her.
Or maybe it was that he thought of her as some sort of charity? Someone who had once been in the public eye, but now lived and worked in obscurity, at her little dance studio in the suburbs of London?
‘You know, Miranda, I was really hoping to do this the nice way.’
Andy looked up at him sharply. ‘What does that mean?’ She eyed him warily, not at all comfortable with that feral smile now curving those sculptured lips. It was not the genuine smile she had visualised last week, but nevertheless it still put two attractive grooves into the lean hardness of his cheeks.
‘If you just say yes, to accompanying me to the charity dinner, then you’ll never need to know.’ He shrugged.
Andy’s unease only increased at his pleasant tone. ‘Could it possibly have anything to do with the fact that my brother-in-law works for you?’ She had been very aware of that fact from the moment Darius had approached and spoken to her in the club last week. She just hadn’t believed he would actually stoop to using that connection in order to impose his considerable will.
Until now.
‘Intelligent as well as beautiful!’ His smile was genuinely appreciative. ‘Yes, my brother and I have been in several meetings this week, listening to our managers as they listed all the reasons why we no longer need such big IT departments in our offices around the world, most especially in London. A drop-in workforce is, I’m afraid, inevitable. It’s just a question now of deciding who is or who isn’t expendable.’
And they both knew that Colin worked in the IT department of the London offices of Midas Enterprises! ‘That’s despicable.’ Andy was incredulous.
‘I know,’ Darius drawled. ‘And I feel so bad about it,’ he added insincerely.
Andy glared up at him, not sure if she wanted to punch him on his arrogant nose or just slap his face. Either way she knew it would give her only a fleeting sense of satisfaction. Nor was it an action that Darius would leave unpunished—and possibly by deciding that Colin was definitely expendable at Midas Enterprises.
‘Colin is a real person, with financial responsibilities,’ she snapped. ‘He’s not some toy you can play with just to get your own way.’
Darius shrugged. ‘Then stop being difficult.’
She eyed him scathingly. ‘Are you really so desperate to secure a date for Saturday evening that you would resort to blackmail?’
‘I’m not desperate at all.’ His humour had faded as quickly as it appeared, his eyes now hard, his mouth a thin, uncompromising line. ‘And I don’t want a date with just anyone, Miranda. I want a date with you.’
She eyed him impatiently. ‘Is this because I said no to you last week? Because no woman is allowed to say no to the imperious Darius Sterne? Are you so arrogant, so full of your own importance, that—’ Andy’s insulting tirade was brought to an abrupt halt as she felt herself pulled effortlessly into Darius’s arms before his mouth came crashing down to capture hers.
It was by no means a gentle or exploratory kiss; it was more like being swept along on a tidal wave as his mouth devoured hers, his arms about her waist moulding her softness against the hardness of his chest and thighs, as his tongue now stroked, caressed, the soft sensitivity of her parted lips, before plunging into the moist heat of her mouth.
Andy was totally overwhelmed by the onslaught of desire that coursed through her as her hands moved up his chest and grasped onto his shoulders, before her fingers became entangled in the silky dark thickness of hair at his nape as she moved up onto her toes to return the heat of that kiss.
She was totally aware of the sensitivity, the arousal of her breasts, as her engorged nipples rubbed against the abrasive material of his coat. Only the thin material of her leotard and Darius’s trousers stood between the hardness of his thighs and the heat that now burned between her own thighs.
Darius was breathing hard when he finally broke the kiss, his eyes the colour of dark amber as he continued to hold her in his arms as he looked down at her. ‘That’s the reason I’m willing to use blackmail in order to get you to agree to go to this dinner with me on Saturday evening.’
Andy felt light-headed as she gazed up at him, and she realised that was because she had forgotten to breathe for the duration of that punishing kiss. A kiss she inwardly acknowledged she hadn’t wanted to end.
What was wrong with her? This man had been nothing but arrogant and pushy since she first met him. To the point that he was now trying to blackmail her into going out with him on Saturday evening, and using Colin’s job as leverage to do so.
Damn it, she wasn’t even sure she liked the man.
Did she have to like him in order to be aroused by him?
Obviously not, if the heat of desire that still consumed her was an indication.
She moistened her slightly bruised lips with the tip
