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It Started With... Collection. Miranda LeeЧитать онлайн книгу.

It Started With... Collection - Miranda Lee


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looked good on him and fitted in with any occasion.

      The house was as grand inside as out, Ryan noted, with a wide foyer covered in black-and-white tiles an elaborately carved hall-stand which had to be an antique, and an impressive curved staircase made of a rich red wood.

      ‘It’s cedar,’ Cynthia informed Ryan proudly when he asked about it. ‘There’s quite a lot of cedar in this house,’ she continued as she led the way upstairs. ‘The house was built back in the thirties before the war almost ruined everyone, the racing industry as well. Did Laura tell you this was once one of the most successful racehorse studs in Australia? No, of course she didn’t,’ the woman rattled on before Ryan could reply. ‘Laura’s not all that interested in this place or its traditions.

      ‘Now I didn’t put you in your usual room, Laura,’ she threw over her shoulder towards her niece who was trailing a little behind. ‘It’s way too small for two people. Shane and Lisa aren’t staying the night, so I made up the main guestroom for you,’

      she said, opening a brass-handled door on their right with a flourish.

      Ryan heard Laura make a small choking sound which, thank heavens, her aunt didn’t seem to notice, perhaps because she was busy bragging about the people who’d once slept in the very large four-poster bed which dominated the room. She mentioned a past prime minister, as well as a governor general, a couple of English aristocrats and a Hollywood star along with her very wealthy lover.

      ‘This house has a lot of history,’ she finished up by saying.

      ‘It’s a very beautiful house,’ Ryan complimented, having dropped both their bags by the door to wander across the room to the French doors which led out onto the verandah. ‘And a very beautiful room.’

      He turned to see a pale-faced Laura still standing in the doorway, staring over at the bed. ‘But Gran won’t like us staying in the same bedroom,’ she suddenly blurted out.

      Cynthia made a dismissive gesture with her hand. ‘Jane doesn’t need to know,’ she said airily. ‘She’s not allowed to walk up the stairs any more.’

      ‘So where’s she sleeping?’ Laura asked as she entered the room and draped the coathangers over the back of a chair.

      ‘We’ve refurbished the old servants’ quarters for her.’

      ‘The servants’ quarters!’ Laura exclaimed, her face flushing.

      ‘Before you blow a gasket, missy,’ her aunt said sharply, ‘Jane is very happy with the arrangements. So don’t you go making a fuss and making her unhappy.’

      ‘Laura would never do or say anything to make her gran unhappy,’ Ryan defended her, moving over to put a protective arm around Laura, warning her with a sharp squeeze not to lose her temper.

      ‘Yes, I do appreciate that, Ryan,’ Cynthia said through slightly pursed lips. ‘But Laura has the bad habit of opening her mouth before her brain is in gear.’

      ‘She can be a bit impulsive,’ he said, tightening his arm again around her shoulders. ‘But she always has people’s best interests at heart. Especially her gran’s.’

      ‘I suppose so. But, as I said, Jane won’t find out unless you tell her. Of course, if you’d prefer to have separate rooms, then …’

      ‘Absolutely not!’ Ryan broke in forcefully. ‘I’ve been dying to get Laura away for a romantic weekend together. And, let’s face it, that bed has romance written all over it.’

      Laura might have enjoyed the flash of envy on her aunt’s face if she hadn’t been in a state of complete panic. Her worst fear had come about, that of having to share a bed with Ryan. It was bad enough having to stand where she was with his arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders, but at least they were dressed, and there was someone else in the room. How would she be able to cope lying side by side whilst wearing next to nothing with no one else in the room to stop … To stop what, exactly?

      Laura knew full well that Ryan would never force himself on her. So what was she afraid of?

      Herself again, of course. That self which even now was trembling inside at his touch.

      ‘Now, my dears, I really must go downstairs and tell Jane you’ve arrived,’ her aunt said brightly. ‘I thought since it’s such a nice day we could have afternoon tea together out on the back verandah. Could you join us there in, say, fifteen minutes?’

      ‘No trouble,’ Ryan said when Laura remained silent. ‘See you shortly.’

      The moment Cynthia closed the door after her, Laura twisted out of his hold. ‘That woman is just so impossible!’ she exclaimed heatedly. ‘Fancy just presuming we’d want to share a room.’

      ‘It’s perfectly logical that we would,’ Ryan said. ‘It’s not as though we’re teenagers, Laura. We’re an adult couple, having an adult relationship. Of course we’d be sleeping together.’

      ‘But we aren’t, damn it! And now we’ll have to—actually sleep together, that is. I mean, just look around you. There’s nowhere else to sleep in here except on the floor.’

      ‘Well you can count me out on that one,’ Ryan said, marching over to lift his bag up and carry it over to the bed, where he dumped it down on top of the richly embroidered red-velvet quilt. ‘I’m not sleeping on any wooden floor. Look, this is a very big bed. You can put some pillows down the middle if you like. That should stop me from accidentally brushing up against your very desirable female body and ravaging you on the spot. Which is exactly what you’re thinking, isn’t it? That I might not be able to control myself.’

      Laura just stared at him for a long moment, before dropping her eyes and shaking her head irritably. ‘That’s not what I was thinking at all.’

      ‘Really? What were you thinking, then? And don’t say nothing. You are never thinking nothing, Laura.’

      She turned and walked over to collect her own bag, wheeling it across the room before hoisting it up onto the bed on the opposite side to where he was.

      Her eyes, when they finally lifted to meet his, were decidedly mutinous. ‘I don’t have to tell you what I’m thinking. And I don’t have to sleep in the same bed as you. I’ll sleep on the damned floor if I have to.’

      Ryan scowled at her. She was one seriously irritating woman! ‘Be my guest,’ he said. ‘Just try to do it quietly. I don’t want to be kept awake with your moaning and groaning.’

      ‘I don’t ever moan and groan,’ she snapped.

      Ryan gave her a droll look. ‘Now that I can believe.’

      ‘Very funny,’ she bit out.

      ‘Actually, I’m not finding any of this at all funny,’ he shot back. ‘To be perfectly honest, I wish to God I’d never made this ridiculous offer in the first place. I must have had rocks in my head if I thought I could bring off pretending to be your Mr Right.’

      The moment the words were out of his mouth, Ryan regretted them. Not that she didn’t deserve some criticism—she wasn’t making his job easy—but he hated seeing the crestfallen expression on her face. Hated having hurt her like that.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ he said straight away. ‘That was uncalled for.’

      ‘No no,’ she said, shaking her head unhappily. ‘You had every right to say what you did. The way I’m acting … It’s silly and, well, it’s just plain silly.’

      ‘Then you won’t be sleeping on the floor?’

      ‘No,’ she said, her chin lifting in an oddly defiant gesture as though it was a big deal, agreeing to share the bed with him.

      ‘Good. Now I have a very important question to ask you before we go downstairs for afternoon tea.’

      ‘What?’ she replied, looking


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