‘No,’ he said. ‘They hadn’t spoken since the divorce.’
Miranda wondered if his father’s funeral would have brought back painful memories of his estranged relationship with him. No son wanted to be rejected by his father. But apparently Vittorio Allegretti hadn’t wanted custody after the divorce. He had handed over Leandro as a small boy and only saw him on the rare occasion he’d been in London on business. She had heard via her brothers that eventually Leandro had stopped meeting his father because Vittorio had a tendency to drink to the point of abusing others and/or passing out. There had even been one occasion where the police had had to be called due to a bar-room scuffle Leandro’s father had started. It didn’t surprise her Leandro had kept his distance. With his quiet and reserved nature he wasn’t the sort of man to draw unnecessary attention to himself.
But there was so much more she didn’t know about him. She knew he was a forensic accountant—a brilliant one. He had his own consultancy in London and travelled all over the globe uncovering major fraud in the corporate and private sectors. He often worked with Jake with his business analysis company and he had recently helped Julius in exposing Holly’s ghastly stepfather’s underworld drug and money-laundering operations.
Leandro Allegretti was the go-to man for uncovering secrets and yet Miranda had always sensed he had one or two of his own.
‘So this job...’ she began. ‘Where’s the collection?’
‘In Nice,’ he said. ‘My father ran an art and antiques business in the French Riviera. This is his private collection. He sold off everything else when he was first diagnosed with terminal cancer.’
‘And you want to...to get rid of it?’ Miranda asked, frowning at the thought of him selling everything of his father’s. In spite of their tricky relationship, didn’t he want a memento? ‘All of it?’
The line of his mouth was flat. Hardened. Whitened. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I have to pack up the villa and sell that too.’
‘Why not use someone locally?’ Miranda knew she was well regarded in her job as an art restorer even though she was at the early stages of her career. But she wouldn’t be able to do much on site. Art restoration was more science now than art. Sophisticated techniques using x-rays, infrared technology and Raman spectroscopy meant most restoration work was done in the protective environment of an established gallery. Leandro could afford the best in the world. Why ask her?
‘I thought you might like a chance to escape the hoo-hah here,’ Leandro said. ‘Can you take a couple of weeks’ leave from the gallery?’
Miranda had already been thinking about getting out of London for some breathing space. It had been hell on wheels with her father’s dirty linen being flapped in her face. She couldn’t go anywhere without being assailed by press. Everyone wanted to know what she thought of her father’s scandal. Had she met her half-sister? Was she planning to? Were her parents divorcing for the second time? It was relentless. Along with the press attention, she had also been subjected to her mother’s bitter tirades about her father, and her father’s insistence she make contact with her half-sister and play happy families.
Like that was going to happen.
This would be a perfect opportunity to escape. Besides, October on the Côte d’Azur would be preferable to the capricious weather London was currently dishing up. ‘How soon do you want me?’ she said, blushing when she realised her unintentional double entendre. ‘I mean, I can probably get away from work by the end of next week. Is that okay?’
‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I don’t collect the keys to the villa until then anyway. I’ll book your flight and email you the details. Do you have a preference for a hotel?’
‘Where will you be staying?’
‘At my father’s villa.’
Miranda thought about the expense of staying at a hotel, not that Leandro couldn’t afford it. He would put her in five-star accommodation if she asked for it. But staying in a hotel put her at risk of being found by the press. If she stayed with Leandro at his father’s villa she could work on the collection without that looming threat.
Besides, it would be an opportunity to see a little of the man behind the perpetual frown.
‘Is there room for me at your father’s place?’
Leandro’s frown deepened until two vertical lines formed between his bottomless brown eyes. ‘You don’t want to stay in a hotel?’
Miranda snagged her lip with her teeth, warm colour crawling further over her cheeks until her whole face felt on fire. ‘I wouldn’t want to intrude if you’ve got someone else staying...’