Awakening the Ravensdale Heiress
A glitter of hauteur shone in her gaze as it held his. ‘I find that imminently preferable to hooking up with people for no other reason than to slake animal lust.’
Was it just sisterly, friendly concern or was she jealous? ‘Ah, so Nicole is an issue for you, then?’
Her mouth tightened to a flat disapproving line. ‘It’s no business of mine if you call her and sleep with her. You can call and sleep with anyone you like.’
‘But you would hate it if I did.’
She stepped back from him and folded her arms across the front of her body, reminding him of a starchy schoolmistress from his childhood. ‘Don’t you want more out of life than that?’ she said.
‘Don’t you?’
She pursed her lips. ‘We’re not talking about me.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Because talking about you makes you feel uncomfortable, doesn’t it? You’re happier dishing out the advice to everyone else while you turn a blind eye to your own needs.’
‘You know nothing about my needs,’ she flashed back.
He raised one of his brows. ‘Are you sure about that, Sleeping Beauty?’ he said. ‘I can still taste those needs in my mouth.’
Her cheeks flamed with colour. ‘Why are you doing this?’
He took her by the shoulders gently but firmly. ‘You’re living a lie, Miranda. You know you are. A big, fat lie. You want more but you’re too afraid to grow up and ask for it.’
She pulled away from him with a twist of her body, glaring at him. ‘Did Julius put you up to this?’
Leandro frowned. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘He gave me one of his lectures recently,’ she said. ‘He said the same thing you said—that Mark would’ve moved on if the tables were turned. It’s kind of telling, how you’re suddenly taking an interest in me after ignoring me for all these years.’
‘I haven’t been ignoring you.’ Far from it, he thought wryly. His awareness of her had been gradual, admittedly. He had always seen her as his mates’ little sister. But over time he had watched her blossom from an awkward teenager into a beautiful and accomplished young woman. He noticed the way her creamy cheeks blushed when she was embarrassed, especially for some reason when he was around. He noticed her body; how it made his feel when she was in the same room as him. He noticed her slightest movement: the shy lick of her lips; the downward cast of her gaze; the nervous swallow; the sinking of her small white teeth into the blood-red pillow of her lower lip.
Leandro came to where she was standing with her arms folded. ‘I’m not ignoring you now,’ he said, watching as the dark ink of her pupils flared.
She closed her eyes in a slow blink. ‘Don’t...’
‘Don’t what?’
The tip of her tongue sneaked out to moisten her lips. ‘You’re making this so hard for me...’
‘Because you want to know what it feels like to be with a man instead of a boy, don’t you?’ Leandro said. ‘That’s why you kissed me the way you did. You didn’t kiss like some shy little teenager who didn’t know what she was doing. You kissed like a hot-blooded, passionate woman because that’s who you really are underneath that prim and proper, twin-set-and-pearls façade you insist on hiding behind.’
Her mouth flattened to a thin line of white. ‘You know something?’ she said. ‘I think I preferred it when you ignored me. I’m going to bed. Good night.’
Leandro muttered a stiff curse as she stalked off down the shadowed corridor until she disappeared from sight.
* * *
Miranda got to work on the collection first thing. She sorted the paintings into different sections for proper packing and shipping. She had already consulted her associates on one or two paintings that were outside her range of experience. By lunchtime she had done half the collection but that still left the other half, as well as the antiques.
She hadn’t seen or heard from Leandro since late last night. She had gone to bed in a fit of temper over him pushing her to admit her needs. Needs she was perfectly happy ignoring, thank you very much. Or she had been, until he’d come along and stopped ignoring her. Grr! Was that why he had kissed her in the lane? Just to prove a point? To show her how it felt to kiss a man?
Well, she knew now. It felt good. It felt amazing. It felt so damn amazing she didn’t know how she had managed to keep out of his arms last night. She had come close to throwing herself at him. Terrifyingly, shamelessly close. She had looked at his mouth and imagined it pressed on hers, his tongue doing all those wicked things it had done before, and the way hers had responded so wantonly.