The Redemption of Darius Sterne

by Carole Mortimer

  No, actually, he wasn’t.

  Arrogant? Yes. Overbearing? Certainly. Blunt? Disconcertingly so. Ruthless, even—Darius’s threats regarding Colin’s job in order to force Andy into coming here with him this evening certainly came under the latter category! But Andy had never thought of Darius as being particularly rude.

  Until he spoke of or to his mother.

  There was definitely a story there. One which Darius had made it clear he had no intention of confiding in Andy. Because he wasn’t a man who confided in anyone except perhaps his twin brother? Andy recalled that the brothers had arrived at the restaurant together last week, and they had been in business together for twelve years, so it was probably safe to assume they at least liked each other and got along.

  ‘Is there some reason why your mother should be worried about Xander’s lateness?’ she prompted slowly.

  Darius looked down at her coolly. ‘None at all—apart from the fact that she’s overprotective of him to the point of obsession.’

  An image of Darius’s twin instantly came to mind: the golden-haired god with laughter in his dark eyes. ‘Does she have reason to believe he’s in need of protection?’

  Darius breathed his impatience. ‘You seem overly concerned with the non-appearance of my brother.’

  Andy frowned at the accusation. ‘Not in the least.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘No!’

  Andy decided, with Darius looking so grimly unappreciative of this subject, that it might be best to talk of something less controversial.

  ‘What I am curious to know is just how much the tickets cost for this dinner.’

  There must be at least five hundred people in this crowded ballroom, all of them dressed in glamorous evening wear; the men all looked very distinguished in their black dinner suits, and the array of ladies’ ballgowns was exquisite. Andy was in danger of being blinded by the amount of jewellery glittering beneath the crystal chandeliers.

  Darius took two glasses of champagne from one of the circulating waiters before handing one to Andy. ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘Only if it would be a complete waste of my time offering to pay for my own ticket!’

  ‘It would,’ Darius confirmed dryly.

  ‘Oh.’ She grimaced before taking a sip of her champagne; she knew that the tickets for some of these charity events cost in the thousands of pounds rather than the hundreds. And this evening looked to be one of the former.

  ‘Not only would it be a waste of your time from a financial angle,’ Darius continued dismissively, ‘but also totally unacceptable. I was the one who invited you this evening; I doubt you would have come here of your own volition!’

  Andy gave him a pointed glance. ‘We both know that I didn’t.’

  He sighed heavily. ‘You really meant it when you said you aren’t going to let that go, didn’t you?’

  ‘I really did,’ she confirmed dryly. ‘Do you think—?’

  ‘Andy, is that you? My goodness, it is you!’

  Andy had been so sure that she wouldn’t know anyone else here this evening, and she now turned to look blankly at the woman who had just greeted her so enthusiastically. She looked at a tall and willowy brunette, dressed in a red sequinned dress that finished at least six inches above her shapely knees.

  She was exactly the type of woman, tall and brunette, Andy had seen Darius photographed with so much in the past.

  The woman had now moved forward to clasp one of Andy’s hands in her own red-tipped ones, a smile tilting the edges of perfectly painted red lips. A smile that didn’t reach the coldness of her blue eyes.

  Andy’s 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 T
ia 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 who is Tia Bellamy, and why did meeting her again upset you so much?’

  Well, that was certainly brutally honest enough, Andy acknowledged ruefully. Even if she had no intention of satisfying Darius’s curiosity. ‘We really should go back and join the other guests in the ballroom.’

  ‘We really shouldn’t,’ Darius murmured huskily as he moved away from the door. ‘Not until you’ve answered my question,’ he added grimly.

  ‘Which one?’ She raised her chin challengingly.

  His eyes glittered down at her just as determinedly as Darius shrugged. ‘I believe they were one and the same question.’

  ‘No, they weren’t.’ Andy sighed as she turned away to stand nearer the conference table, having known by the stubborn set of Darius’s jaw that she wasn’t about to escape this room until he was ready for the two of them to leave. ‘Obviously Tia is a ballet dancer,’ she dismissed. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t heard of her?’ Andy had avoided looking at any newspaper articles or other ballet gossip since the accident, but even she knew that Tia was now one of England’s prima ballerinas.

  As she had once hoped to be.

  ‘Business pressures mean I haven’t had time to go to the ballet for years,’ Darius dismissed. ‘Now tell me why seeing her again upset you so much,’ he insisted determinedly.

  Andy shrugged as she turned away from his probing gaze. ‘Surely it’s only natural for me to be a little upset at seeing one of my old colleagues, and to be reminded of—of the fact that I’ll never dance professionally again?’

  ‘Now tell me the real reason.’

  Andy knew, from how close Darius’s voice was, and from the way his breath ruffled the soft downy hair at her nape, that he had crossed the room and was now standing just behind her.

  So close to her, in fact, that Andy could feel the warmth of his body through the material of her gown, his unique and intoxicating smell—warm, virile male and that lemon-based cologne—invading her senses.

  ‘Talk to me,’ he prompted huskily.

  Andy gave a shake of her head, in an effort to stop herself from falling any deeper under Darius’s seductive spell.

  ‘Tell me the real reason seeing Tia Bellamy upset you.’ His voice had hardened.

  She tensed. ‘I already have.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Andy realised it had been a mistake to turn and face Darius as she suddenly found herself pressed flush against the hardness of his body as he easily pulled her into his arms.

  A move she attempted to resist at first, only to capitulate with a sigh, and rest her head against the solidity of his shoulder, when Darius simply refused to release her but instead tightened his arms about her in order to prevent her escape.

  ‘Tell me,’ he encouraged gruffly as he rested his cheek lightly against her hair.

  That was something Andy couldn’t do. Something she would never tell anyone ever again. She had tried four years ago to tell people what she thought had really happened the night she went tumbling down off the stage, smashing her right hip and thigh bone and effectively ending her ballet career. No one had believed her. No one had wanted to believe her.

  In the end Andy hadn’t been sure that she believed it herself either.

  Admittedly Tia had been her understudy for the Odette/Odile role in Swan Lake, and had immediately taken over after Andy’s accident, but she couldn’t really have pushed Andy deliberately, in order to achieve that ambition. Could she?

  Andy had convinced herself in the months of surgery and convalescence that had followed her accident that the events of that night must all have become muddled in her mind. That it had been the initial pain, and then the strong drugs they had given her to dull that pain, that had caused some sort of delirium, resulting in the weird dreams she had just thought were real when she woke up.

  Tia’s almost triumphant air this evening, when she’d announced she was rehearsing for the lead in Giselle, her condescension about the way Andy looked and was dressed this evening, her pitying glances when she mentioned Andy’s dance studio, now caused Andy to once again question her memories of that night four years ago.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ANDY MOISTENED THE dryness of her lips before answering Darius. ‘I’ll make a deal with you,’ she murmured huskily. ‘I’ll answer your question if you’ll tell me the reason for the friction b
etween you and your mother.’

  Darius gave a rueful chuckle. Miranda might have been shaken by that meeting with Tia Bellamy, but not so much that she couldn’t think logically enough to ask him for the one thing she knew he couldn’t, or rather wouldn’t, give her. ‘We both know that isn’t going to happen.’

  She gave a shrug. ‘Then neither is my answer to your own question.’

  Darius moved his head back slightly so that he could look down at her as he murmured appreciatively, ‘You are one very dangerous lady.’

  Miranda’s eyes glowed with mischievous humour. ‘I don’t think anyone has ever accused me of being that before.’

  Darius sobered as he looked down into the beauty of Miranda’s face: those warm green eyes, her flushed cheeks, the full and tempting pout of her lips. Yes, to him, at this moment, she was most definitely very dangerous. ‘Maybe that’s because no one else has ever been as determined as I am to know you better?’

  ‘Or in the way in which you want to know me better?’ Andy countered ruefully.

  Darius quirked one dark brow. ‘Is that a bad thing?’

  It wasn’t ‘bad’ exactly—the intensity of desire Andy could see in Darius’s eyes just scared the hell out of her.

  It didn’t help that Andy was so aware of his body pressed so intimately against her own. Or how alone they were in this room. She certainly couldn’t dismiss the sexual tension that now surrounded the two of them, and appeared to hold both of them in its thrall.

  Which, considering there were five hundred people in the huge ballroom just a short distance away, was totally inappropriate.

  ‘What did Tia Bellamy mean when she said you need to wear long gowns, Miranda?’ Darius asked unexpectedly.

  So unexpectedly that Andy felt her cheeks pale. ‘That’s none of your business, Darius.’

  ‘I’m making it so,’ he insisted softly.

  Andy shook her head in denial. ‘I think we should go back to the ballroom now.’

  ‘I disagree.’

  ‘I don’t care.’

  ‘If I stop asking questions will you agree to stay here a little longer?’ Darius leant back against the conference table and took Andy’s bag from her unresisting fingers and placed it on the table behind him. He settled her in between his parted legs, his arms light about her waist as his lips nuzzled and tasted the warmth of her throat.