Miranda went back to her own room to shower and dress. When she came downstairs she found Leandro in the study working on his laptop. He was so deep in concentration he didn’t notice her at first. But then he looked up and his heavy frown was replaced with a brief smile. ‘Sleep okay?’ he said.
‘Yes, but clearly you didn’t.’
He stood and rubbed the back of his neck with one of his hands. ‘I had some accounts to go through. It’s a big job I’m working on for Jake. I need to get it sorted as soon as possible.’
Miranda slipped her arms around his waist and nestled against his tall, lean frame. ‘You work too hard.’
He rested his chin on the top of her head as he drew her closer. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Fine.’
He eased back to search her gaze with the intensely dark probe of his. ‘Not sore?’
Miranda felt her cheeks heat up. ‘A little.’
He stroked her cheek with a gentle fingertip, his expression rueful. ‘I’m sorry.’
She pressed closer to link her arms around his neck, her pelvis flush against the hardness of his. ‘I’m not.’ She stepped up on tiptoe to brush her lips against his. ‘You were wonderful.’
He looked down at her with that persistent frown between his brows. ‘You don’t regret getting involved like this?’
‘Do you?’
He let out a long breath. ‘I’m worried it will change our relationship,’ he said. ‘In a negative way, I mean.’
‘We’ve always been friends, Leandro,’ Miranda said. ‘That’s not likely to change just because we took it to a new level for a week or two.’
He continued to look at her in a contemplative manner. ‘Do you think you’ll date someone else when you get back?’
Miranda frowned. ‘Why would I do that?’
‘Because now you’ve broken the drought, so to speak.’
She slipped out of his hold and folded her arms across her middle, throwing him a hardened glance. ‘So, I suppose you’ll call Nicole once we’re done?’
His eyes took on a flinty edge. ‘I’m not sure why that should be such a sticking point for you.’
Miranda let out a whooshing breath. ‘How can you settle for someone who just uses you to scratch an itch? How can you use her? Don’t you want more than that?’
‘Don’t you?’
‘I hate how you do that,’ she said. ‘You always shift the focus onto me because you’re not comfortable talking about what it is you really want. You think you don’t deserve to be happy because of what happened to your sister. It’s. Not. Your. Fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. Sacrificing your life won’t change the past.’
His top lip curled. ‘Will you listen to yourself? How about we play a little game of “it’s hypothetical”? If I were to ask you to commit to a long-term relationship with me, would you do it?’
Miranda stared at him for a dumbstruck moment. ‘I don’t— I’m not— You’re not—’
He gave a bark of cynical laughter. ‘The answer is no, isn’t it? You’re too invested in living the role of the martyr. I bet you won’t even tell your best friend what you got up to with me.’
Jaz will probably guess as soon as she sees me, Miranda thought. ‘But you would never ask me to commit to you... Would you?’
‘No.’
A sharp pain jabbed her under the ribs. Did he have to be so blunt? So adamant? ‘Wow,’ she said with a hint of scorn. ‘You really know how to boost a girl’s self-esteem.’
He swung away to stand with his back to her as he looked out of the window. He drew in a deep breath and let it out in a halted stream. ‘I knew this would be a mistake. I have this amazing ability to ruin every relationship I enter into.’
Miranda couldn’t bear to see him so tortured with such guilt and self-blame. Her heart ached for him. He was so torn up with regret and self-recrimination. He was so alone in his suffering, yet she wanted to stand by him, to help him work his way through it to a place of peace. She stepped up to him and stroked her hand down the tightly clenched muscles of his back. He flinched as if her touch had sent an electric shock through him. ‘You haven’t ruined our relationship,’ she said softly.
He put an arm around her and drew her close to the side of his body, leaning down to press a soft-as-air kiss to the top of her head. ‘I’m sorry, ma petite,’ he said. ‘None of this is your fault. It’s me. It’s this wretched, bloody house. It’s all the stuff I can’t fix.’