Australia's Most Eligible Bachelor / The Bridesmaid's Secret: Australia's Most Eligible Bachelor

No distance at all now divided them. Both seemed possessed by the moment. “It’s your birthday, so I believe I should be allowed to kiss you,” he murmured, already dipping his head. “One kiss. That’s all. On this very special occasion we might find it permissible to go out on a limb.” He managed to speak lightly, affectionately, even, but in reality he was driven by pure desire that had to find at least some degree of release. Time to confront the repressed knowledge that his desire for her had begun the moment he had first laid eyes on her years before.

He wanted to run an urgent hand down the column of her throat to her delicate breasts. To his captive eyes they resembled pink-tipped white roses, not long out of bud. He wanted to feel her heartbeat beneath his palm. If only she were older, more experienced, more along the way with her ambitions, he would kiss her and caress her before carrying her to bed.

But this was Miranda. He couldn’t allow his control to slip. He had vowed to look after her and her interests. She was young, when his experience of life and living had gone far beyond even his own age group.

From long practice Corin reined himself back to a pace he thought they both could handle. He set down his wine glass before taking hers out of her hand.

“Happy birthday, Miranda.” His voice was low, and to Miranda’s ears heart-stoppingly deep and romantic. Even before he touched her she felt as if she was being possessed. Gently he took her face between his hands, inhaling her sweet fragrance.

There can be no future in this.

Her warning voice tolled like a bell.

All you stand to gain is heartbreak.

At that moment she couldn’t bring herself to care. She had to seize this one breathless instant. One kiss, then everything would go back to normal. They would return to their respective roles.

It doesn’t work that way.

“Come here,” he whispered.

All there was was a deep hunger. She moved her upper body into him, her spine curved, while he held her face and kissed her as if he had never in his life known a woman he wanted to kiss more. He kissed her not like Corin her mentor. He kissed her like the most ardent lover. It was a brilliant, beautiful, incredibly real kiss, as if for those short moments out of time he was declaring love for her. This was no quick flare of pleasure-seeking. None of the male’s driving sex urge was on display. All control wasn’t lost. The kiss was contained. A decision acted upon. But deeply, deeply erotic for all that.

One of you will get hurt. It won’t be him. It will be you.

Corin found he had to pull his mouth away. Even with his exercising of strict control, the level of excitement had surged so high he thought it would take a long time to subside. “Has no one told you how beautiful you are, Miranda?” He gazed down on her face. It looked dreamy, almost somnolent, as though she had been transported to another place.

It took her long moments to answer. “If they have, I haven’t taken much notice.”

As an answer it was very revealing. Careful now, Corin thought. He would do nothing to threaten her well being. One kiss had proved more than enough to handle, luring him on while staying his hand. He moved his body back a little, deliberately lightening his tone. “Zara has mentioned many times how charming people find you. There’s some old roué—what’s his name? Walton?”

Her heart was racing so hard and fast it was moving the lace at her breast. “Eddie is quite a player.” With an effort she summoned up a smile. She had taken their kiss in her stride, hadn’t she? There was wisdom in caution. “There are many women in his life.”

“But he wants to spend time with you?”

“Maybe he does. But I’m not anyone’s passing fancy, Corin. I avoid danger and damage.”

“Good.” He turned away from temptation. “One more glass, then I must let you go back to bed. I need to turn in myself. We’re off to Venice in the morning.”

She was so startled she gave a little cry. “What did you say?”

Venice? Magic in the air.

She wished she was sitting in a chair, so she could ease back into it for support. As it was, she thought she might topple off the table.

“Venice. Probably the most fascinating city ever built by man,” he said, busy refilling their sparkling flutes. “I have us booked into a first-class hotel. Tons of atmosphere. It’s on the site of the orphanage church where Vivaldi probably dreamed up the Four Seasons. I think you’ll love it. It’s the quintessential Venetian luxury hotel and its position is superb. Our respective suites overlook the Lagoon, and it’s only a few minutes’ walk from the Piazza San Marco. It’ll be a great experience for you. You’re just the sort of young woman to fully appreciate it. The heart of a pure romantic beats beneath this Bachelor of Science.”

She was perilously close to bursting into tears. “Corin, you don’t have to do all this for me.”

“What have I done for you really?” He held her with his compelling eyes.

“What no one else has done! You overwhelm me.”

“What? Feisty little you?” he scoffed. “The teenager who launched herself into my lap? If that wasn’t initiative, what is? Risky too, as you very well knew. Here—drink this down, then off to bed. A cab will be here at eight sharp to take us to the airport. Ninety minutes or so on we take off to Marco Polo International. We return to London Monday afternoon. I’ll wait to see Zara when she comes back, then I’ll be heading home for a few days before I head off to meet up with my father in China. Business, needless to say.”

“This is like a fairy tale,” Miranda breathed, accepting the crystal flute from him with visions of the legendary Serenissima she had seen only in books and films rising before her eyes.

“Well, your life hasn’t exactly been a fairy tale up to date. This is by way of balance. Besides, even if we’re not related by blood we do have a strong connection.”

A shadow crossed her small heart-shaped face. “I want to tell Zara,” she confessed. “We’ve become close. I don’t like keeping my true identity from her.”

“Only there might be quite a price to pay,” he offered rather tensely. “For the moment anyway. I know how you feel. I don’t keep secrets from my sister. I love her. After our mother was killed we were so alone, except for one another and our grandparents when we were allowed to see them. Dad did his best to isolate us, but he didn’t succeed. A life of wealth and privilege doesn’t guarantee happiness, that’s for sure. The occasion will present itself. You just have to be patient.”

“Until the timing fits in with your agenda, Corin?” There was just the tiniest hint of challenge in her tone.

“Trust me,” he urged. “Right at the moment I’m most concerned with protecting you from what could be a very unpleasant experience.”

“You feel contempt for Leila, don’t you?” she said, sadly aware this woman was her mother.

He gave a nonchalant shrug, but the expression on his handsome face had darkened. “Leila is a very destructive woman. My father can’t see it, but Leila’s whole being is centred on self. Valiant as you are, clever as you are, you’d be no match for her. You see life very differently from your mother, Miranda. You want to serve. Leila only wants to take.”

“Does she want to take you?” The instant it was out of her mouth she felt a great spasm of shock. Why had she broached such a highly dangerous and emotive subject? Could it have been acute feminine intuition at work? There was such a thing. Corin’s father was still a very handsome man. But Corin was young. He was much closer in age to Leila than his father. And Corin was blindingly sexy.

“Only you could get away with saying that.” He turned her face to him, fingers closing around her pointed chin.

“So forgive me.” She was actually appalled at herself. “But you make her sound such a rapacious woman.”

His hand dropped. “She makes my father happy. Zara and I might wish she had never come into our lives, but she did. My father is a business giant, a brilliantly clever man, but in some respects he’s completely under Leila’s domination.”

“And this is the woman who bore me?” she said, a dismal note in her voice.

“You are you,” he replied with strong emphasis. “All your admirable characteristics come from a different source.”

“Oh, I hope so,” she gasped. “My grandparents were fine people. They formed me. But then they would have done their best to form Leila. Perhaps my father, whoever he may be, made some sort of a contribution?” she suggested with some irony. “There are many mysteries in life, aren’t there? A lot of them I would think unsolved.”

His expression had turned brooding. “I agree. It’s possible that whoever your father was he didn’t know Leila was pregnant.”

“So where did she get the money to run away? My grandparents didn’t have anything. She didn’t rob a bank. Someone gave it to her.”

“Someone who might have been appalled by the whole situation. It could be a real grief, Miranda. Anyway, we won’t talk about it any more. It’s your birthday.”

“Do you think Leila will remember?” she asked with a twist of bitterness.

“If she does she won’t flail herself.” His answer was full of contempt. “Promise me you’ll put Leila out of your mind. I’m planning a long festive weekend. Promise?”

She threw up her shining head. “I promise,” she said.

“Then drink up and we’ll go to bed.”