Dark Angel

Only as her stepsister began to leave did Kerry find herself finally asking the question that she had always longed to ask the other woman. ‘Are you in love with Luciano?’

Rochelle gave her a pained appraisal and winced. ‘Why are you always so wet? I want to shag him every time I see him…that’s all!’

‘And just for that…you wrecked our engagement?’

‘The guy was mine first. All right, so he was drunk and it was only one weekend, but he had no business getting engaged to you when he couldn’t even be bothered using my phone number! Are you satisfied now?’

‘Yes.’ Kerry was thinking how very ironic it was that Rochelle should have been as jealous of her as she had been of Rochelle.

Ripe mouth pursed, her stepsister departed, slamming the front door in her wake.

Kerry found Miles seated at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, a bottle of whisky in front of him and an empty glass.

‘So where are we going tonight?’ her stepbrother asked with feverish brightness, his words slurring as he clambered down off his high stool with exaggerated care. When he attempted to straighten, he swayed un-steadily. While she watched in dismay, he burst out laughing and grabbed the edge of the worktop to stay upright.

Miles was so drunk that he could barely stand and Kerry had no intention of leaving the apartment with him. ‘I’ll make us something to eat here.’

‘I’m not hungry.’ He lifted the bottle to help himself to another shot of alcohol.

Don’t you think you’ve had enough? Kerry swallowed back a reproach that she knew would only rouse his resentment. Miles might be a party animal but she was dismayed that he could be in such a condition at only seven in the evening, particularly when he had invited her to dine with him. He looked rough in more ways than one as well. Usually immaculate in appearance, he was in dire need of a shave and a clean shirt, and his complexion was downright haggard.

‘But I’m glad you’re here.’ On a sudden impulse, Miles engulfed her in a clumsy hug.

With firm hands, Kerry pressed him back onto the stool before he fell over.

‘I’m in a mess,’ he mumbled heavily.

Her concern increasing, Kerry murmured, ‘

What kind of a mess? Is my father giving you a hard time?’

‘Yeah…everybody is and it’s not about to get better, it’s likely to get worse.’ Miles went off into another burst of what struck her as inappropriate laughter. ‘Linwoods is bleeding to death while those bastards at Salut steal our customers!’

‘Linwoods has come through tough times before.’ Kerry found some eggs in the fridge and decided to make omelettes in the hope of sobering him up with food. She was so relieved that she had not been tempted into cancelling her visit, for it was obvious that Miles was much in need of a caring shoulder.

Her stepbrother’s sensitivity had always drawn Kerry to him. Although on the surface he seemed to have the same bold bravado as Rochelle, he had neither his sister’s thick skin nor her resilience. He found it hard to work for a man as harsh and critical as her father could be and he seemed to see every disappointment and setback at the firm as a personal failure. When Luciano had been arrested for stealing from Linwoods, Miles had been stressed out of his mind for weeks afterwards.

At ten, Luciano called her on her cellphone. By then, she had managed to persuade Miles to go for a shower but it had been an uphill battle that had taxed her patience.

‘So where are you?’ Luciano enquired lazily.

‘In Miles’s sitting room.’

‘How very exciting, cara mia,’ Luciano purred with a satisfaction he was quite incapable of hiding. ‘I’ll pick you up after nine tomorrow morning. Are you missing me?’

‘Nope…not in the slightest—’

‘I know you miss me,’ Luciano asserted.

Involuntarily, she grinned. ‘So why ask?’

‘I can’t stay to chat. I have dinner guests,’ Luciano sighed.

A minute later, Kerry asked herself why the news that Luciano was entertaining should make her feel like Cinderella after the stroke of midnight. When she had finally gone to see why Miles was taking so long to rejoin her, she discovered him lying face down snoring on top of his bed and understood very well why she felt like Cinderella. Bored but not ready for bed, she finally succumbed to the lure of the magazine which Rochelle had left on the coffee-table.

Paola Massone, Kerry learned from the pages of the relevant interview, was a tiny, very attractive brunette. The photograph of Paola emerging from an exclusive restaurant with Luciano some weeks earlier gave Kerry an unexpected and unpleasant jolt. Smooth and sleek in a well-cut dinner jacket, with a smiling Paola’s possessive little hand pinned to his sleeve, Luciano looked utterly devastating. And when Kerry read the accompanying interview, her teeth ground together.

‘We expect to be married within the next year but we’re not in a rush,’ Paola had declared to the world in print. ‘Luciano and I enjoy a perfect understanding of our shared future and I am content to wait until he decides that the time is right.’