De Laceys, major shareholders in Ryland Metals, had positively loathed their son-in-law as much as they loved their daughter’s children. He, as his mother’s only son, had been extremely protective of her—ready to tell his father off at the drop of a hat, no matter the consequences. And there were quite a few he’d had to suffer along the way. The reality was he and Zara had looked to their mother for everything. Love, support, long serious discussions about life—where they were going. It was she who had taken them on numerous cultural outings. She’d been the source of joy in their so called privileged life. Their father had never been around. Jetting off here, off there. Legitimate business concerns, it had to be said, but it had never occurred to him to try to make up for his many absences when he returned. In his way Dalton Rylance had betrayed them all: his wife, his son and heir, and his daughter—the image of their beautiful mother.
And he punished her for it. Zara, the constant reminder. His hands tightened until his knuckles showed white.
“So what are you in the grip of?”
Her voice, which amazingly showed concern, brought him out of his dark thoughts.
“What do you mean?” She was way too perceptive, this girl.
“Don’t bite my head off, Corin. It can’t be me. It’s someone else you’re thinking about. What did you and your sister think when Leila turned up in your life? You couldn’t have lost your mother long? You must have been grieving terribly?”
“Miranda, we’re not talking about me,” he told her curtly, shaken by her perception. “We’re talking about you.”
“So you say!” she responded, undeterred. “Where did I get my brains from anyway? My maths gene, for a start. I was always very good at maths. My grandparents were lovely people. Full of good practical common sense. My grandfather could fix any piece of machinery on the farm. My grandmother was a great cook and a great dressmaker. But they wouldn’t have called themselves intellectuals. Neither of them read much.”
“Of course you are an intellectual,” he said, not sparing the dry-as-bone tone.
“No need to be sarcastic. I am. Fact of life, and I don’t take the credit. I inherited what brain I have from the boy—the man—who was my father. Leila can’t be too bright if she didn’t think I was going to track her down one day.”
“But there’s no way you want to meet her?” He trapped her gaze. God, wouldn’t that be an event to be in on?
“What? Show up unannounced? No way! I might tackle her to the ground and start pummelling her. Not that I’ve ever done anything like that before.”
“Miranda, don’t underestimate the woman you say is your mother,” he rasped. “It’s far more likely she’d seize you by the hair and have you thrown out. That’s if you could get in. My stepmother isn’t your normal woman.”
“Now, isn’t that exactly what I’ve been telling you?” she cried, her turquoise-green eyes opened wide. “She’s a cruel person. She broke her loving parents’ hearts. My grandmother died without her only child by her side. I don’t really care that Leila didn’t want me. Who the heck do I look like anyway?” She tugged in frustration at a loose silver-gilt curl. “What’s with the hair? The colour of my eyes? There’s my father out there somewhere. I might go looking for him. Did he even know about me? Actually, I’ve got a few doubts about your father. Given he’s the big mining magnate, how come he fell for Leila hook, line and sinker? What got into him?”
“Let’s not go there, Miranda,” he said tersely.
“Okay, she’s beautiful. She’s gorgeous. And she must be great in bed.”
And as dangerous as a taipan. “Are you done?” he asked, amazed. This seventeen-year-old girl was a total stranger, yet already they had made a strong connection.
“Don’t get angry with me, Corin,” she urged gently. “I could be worse. I could be out to make trouble, but I’m not. I don’t want to stress this—it’s a bit embarrassing—but look at the big picture. Aren’t we related by marriage?”
“I only have your word for it,” he answered, very sharply indeed because he was rattled. “Plus a few old photographs as some sort of proof.”
“Please…I don’t want you to be angry and upset. You might be keeping it well under wraps, but I think you have…difficulties in life.”
He didn’t care he sounded so cutting. “You’re a very special person, Miranda.” She had to be. Every cell in his body was drawn to her. It was an involuntary reaction. But sometimes one had to be cruel to be kind.
“You believe me, though, don’t you?” The glitter of unshed tears was back in her eyes at his harshness. “You believe me more than you would believe the woman you’ve known for years. I bet she’s been no friend to your sister. You do love your sister?”
He gritted his teeth. “Do you expect me to sit still for this interrogation?”
“Okay, okay!” She pressed her hands together as though in prayer. “I shouldn’t have said it. Let’s get back to what I need to get me through med school. I promise I’ll work harder than I ever have in my life. Back me and I won’t let you down. I’ll even try to pay you back once I qualify.”
He was driven to dropping his head into his hands. “Miranda, just stop talking for a moment. I’m going to check out your whole story. Or have my people do it for me. Don’t worry. They’re professionals. It will all be very confidential. None of the information they supply to me will get out. Where is this flat of yours?”
She was so nervous, excited, upset, her hands were shaking. “Look, I’ll write it down for you. And my mobile number. I hope I didn’t seriously ruin your day?”
“I can’t pretend you haven’t stunned me.” He shot back his cuff to check his watch. “I have a very tedious dinner party tonight I can’t get out of. I’ll get Gil to drop me off first at my apartment, then he can take you home.”
She became agitated. “No, no, don’t bother. I don’t want to put you to the trouble. Besides, I can’t possibly arrive back at the flat in a Rolls.”
“Gil can stop and let you out a short distance away,” he said shortly. “Anyway, it will be dark by the time he gets there.” He lifted his hand to signal the chauffeur, who now turned their way, walking down the path.
“So, will you let me know?” In her agitation she reached out to grip his hand hard, feeling the little shock wave of skin on skin. “Can I trust you, Corin? I do need help.”
“Have you told anyone else about this? Your friends?”
The brilliant gaze seared her. “Gosh, no! I promise you I haven’t told a living soul.”
“A smart move, Miranda, for a smart girl. You’ll hear from me within a few days. We’ll do this thing legitimately.”
“Legitimately, how?” She perked up.
“I’ll tell you when I judge it time for you to know,” he said dismissively. “But if you’ve dreamed up some story—”
“Then you’re free to
