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Mills & Boon Modern Romance Collection: February 2015


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heart had sunk as she’d recognised Tia Bellamy, a member of the ballet company she had also belonged to so briefly four years ago. Tia was two years older than Andy, and had never been a particular friend of hers. She certainly hadn’t been this friendly when the two of them worked together all those years ago.

      ‘Tia,’ she greeted stiffly, even as she removed her hand from the older woman’s cooler one. ‘How are you?’

      Tia’s smile widened. ‘I’m currently in rehearsal for the lead in Giselle,’ she announced with satisfaction, her gaze triumphant as she looked at Andy.

      ‘Congratulations.’ The smile remained fixed on Andy’s face; she might have distanced herself from her previous life in ballet, but even she knew that during this past four years Tia had risen to the heights in the ballet company that she had always dreamed of reaching, that the other woman was now the company’s principal dancer.

      ‘You’re looking absolutely marvellous,’ Tia gushed insincerely. ‘But you always did look good in this gown.’ She gave Andy’s ankle-length gown a knowing glance. ‘Of course, I don’t suppose you have any choice nowadays but to wear gowns that reach down to your ankles.’

      Yes, Tia was still every bit as catty and competitive as she had always been; Andy had worn this gown once when they had known each other four years ago. Once!

      And trust Tia to bring up the accident so quickly.

      ‘Someone...I can’t remember who...mentioned that you had opened a little dance studio or something now that you can no longer dance yourself,’ Tia continued offhandedly.

      ‘Yes,’ Andy confirmed stiffly, not absolutely sure why she was even continuing this conversation when what she really wanted to do was just walk away—before she said something both women would regret.

      ‘And is that going well for you?’ Tia prompted with a continued lack of interest.

      ‘Very well, thank you,’ Andy answered abruptly.

      ‘I’m so glad!’ Tia dismissed in a bored voice before she turned to look up at Darius with flirtatious and covetous blue eyes. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me, Andy?’

      Given a choice, the answer to that question would be a resounding no. Andy had no interest in introducing Tia to Darius. She had no interest in Tia, full stop. As the other woman had made it obvious she had no interest in her either.

      It was more than obvious, from the way Tia was now eyeing Darius, that meeting him was the real reason she had bothered to speak to Andy at all.

      ‘Tia Bellamy...Darius Sterne.’ Andy introduced him as abruptly as Darius had introduced her to his parents earlier.

      ‘Mr Sterne, it’s such a pleasure to meet you!’ Tia purred throatily, her eagerness showing that she had known exactly who he was from the outset.

      It had become obvious to Darius, from listening to their conversation, that the two women had once danced professionally together. That Tia Bellamy still danced.

      It was also obvious that Ms Bellamy was being incredibly rude and hurtful for reminding Miranda so openly that she no longer could.

      Just as it was also obvious, from the stiffness of Miranda’s demeanour, the pallor of her cheeks, and the slight trembling of the hand that held her champagne glass, that this unexpected meeting with Tia Bellamy was not a welcome one for her.

      Nor did Darius particularly care for the way in which the brunette was now eyeing him as if he were a particularly tasty snack. Not that it was the first time he had been ogled in this way—far from it; his wealth had always been more than enough incentive to produce this sort of reaction from a certain type of woman. But he considered it to be in exceedingly bad taste, when he was so obviously here with Miranda, and Tia Bellamy was pretending to be her friend.

      A pretence he could only assume had to be for his benefit rather than anyone else’s.

      Because any real friend of Miranda’s wouldn’t have instantly boasted of dancing the lead in Giselle. Nor would they have asked so condescendingly about the dance studio Miranda had opened now that she was no longer able to dance professionally.

      He was also curious to know what the other woman had meant when she commented that Miranda had no choice but to wear gowns down to her ankles nowadays. What the hell did Tia Bellamy mean by that? Did Miranda actually have lasting physical scars from her accident four years ago, rather than just the emotional ones?

      ‘Ms Bellamy.’ Darius nodded tersely as he ignored the hand she held out to him and instead placed his free arm about the slenderness of Miranda’s waist, a frown appearing between his eyes as he instantly felt the trembling of her body. He wasn’t sure whether it was from anger or because she was upset. ‘Please don’t let us keep you from your date any longer,’ he added dismissively, with a pointed glance at the middle-aged man hovering in the background.

      ‘Oh, that’s just Johnny—Lord John Smythe, you know—not my husband.’ She turned to give the waiting man a sugary sweet smile. ‘He’s rather sweet, and he will keep proposing, but I certainly have no intention of accepting.’ She gave Darius a flirtatiously coy smile that implied she would definitely accept a proposal from him.

      Any proposal he cared to make.

      An invitation Darius wouldn’t have accepted even if he hadn’t disliked the way she spoke to Miranda; Tia Bellamy was just like all those other beautiful women who saw him as nothing more than a wealthy meal ticket. ‘You’ll have to excuse us, Miss Bellamy, my brother has just arrived. Ready, angel?’ His voice softened huskily as he looked down at Miranda.

      She had been staring at Tia Bellamy as if mesmerised—or repelled?—and Darius now felt the shudder that ran through her body as she pulled herself together with effort.

      ‘So nice to have seen you again, Tia.’ Miranda’s tone was as stiltedly polite as the other woman’s had been falsely warm. ‘If you’ll excuse us?’

      Darius’s arm remained firmly about Miranda’s waist as the two of them walked away. ‘I take it there’s some sort of history between the two of you?’ he prompted gently once they were safely out of earshot of the other woman.

      Andy drew in a shuddering breath, knowing that Darius was far too astute, too intelligent, not to have picked up on her tension as she’d forced herself to speak to the blasted woman.

      Her first evening out in forever, and she had to meet the one woman she had hoped never to set eyes on again!

      Not that she had thought for a moment that it had been an accidental meeting; Tia had made it obvious that she had deliberately made a point of seeking her out to get to Darius.

      ‘Something like that,’ Andy answered Darius dismissively.

      ‘Care to talk about it?’

      ‘No. I thought you said we were going to say hello to your brother,’ she prompted in alarm as Darius took the champagne glass out of her hand and placed it with his own on a table, his arm about her waist anchoring her firmly to his side as he guided her out of the crowded and noisy ballroom, before striding purposefully down the hallway and then turning left down a deserted corridor of closed doors.

      He didn’t answer her as he stopped to open several of those doors before pushing one open into what turned out to be a small—and empty—conference room. He pushed Andy inside and closed the door behind them, instantly shutting out all other noise but the sound of the two of them breathing.

      ‘I lied about seeing Xander,’ Darius finally murmured as he leant back against the closed door, arms crossed in front of his chest, his gaze fixed on Andy intently as he effectively blocked her exit.

      Andy’s eyes widened. ‘You seem to do that a lot.’

      ‘On the contrary, I’m usually brutally honest.’ He smiled.

      But his smile held no warmth. ‘Exactly