Andy had done a lot of soul-searching this past week, in the wake of her lovemaking with Darius, and Xander Sterne’s accident.
She could imagine only too well the pain and frustration Xander had gone through this past week. And she knew with certainty that, being Darius’s twin, Xander had the will power and determination to recover fully from his injuries.
Just as she had recovered, as much as she was able, from her own injuries four years ago.
Never once in their acquaintance had Darius ever treated her as less because of those injuries that had ended her ballet career. In fact he had done the opposite, and challenged her at every opportunity.
By goading her into dancing with him that first evening. By insisting that she attend the charity dinner with him—her first appearance in public in four years. By kissing each and every one of her scars as they’d made love on Sunday afternoon, telling her he considered them to be the scars from a battle she had fought and won. Which in a way they were. The two of them might not have a future together, but Andy would always be grateful to Darius for his faith in her, for giving her the courage to face her own demons, her fear of failure.
It was Darius’s belief in her that had given her the newfound confidence, the courage, to dance in public again. Just a short ten-minute performance—she wasn’t capable of anything more—but Andy had determined she would do that much.
She was still determined.
Whether Tia liked it or not.
‘I suppose I could always arrange for you to have another accident.’
Andy stilled, hardly breathing, the colour having leeched from her cheeks, her eyes wide with shock as she stared across the room at Tia Bellamy.
As Andy digested and analysed what the other woman had just said to her.
‘It really was you,’ she finally managed to say breathily, eyes wide with horror that someone—Tia Bellamy—could actually have done something so horrific to a fellow dancer as push her off the stage.
In contrast, Tia’s expression was one of boredom. ‘Of course it was me. As I said, for the second time in a matter of months you were dancing the lead and I was the understudy. A lead that should have been mine—that became mine and stayed mine once you were out of the way!’ she added triumphantly. ‘Now I’m the prima ballerina and you’re—well, you’re this.’ She gave a dismissive sweep of her crimson-tipped fingers at their surroundings.
‘But—but—you could have killed me! You did injure me enough that I’ll never dance professionally again.’ Andy felt physically sick. She might just be sick, if she had to be in this woman’s company for too much longer. ‘I think you had better go,’ she advised woodenly.
How could someone do that to another person, to another dancer? How could Tia have deliberately pushed Andy off a stage just so that she could take her place? It was evil!
Even the satisfaction of knowing she had been right, after all, four years ago, wasn’t enough to quell the sickening churning of Andy’s stomach.
‘You’ll call Catherine Latimer and tell her you’ve decided not to dance, after all,’ Tia instructed.
Would she? Would Andy allow this woman’s threats to destroy her life for a second time? Wasn’t she more than that? Hadn’t Darius’s admiration for what she had now made of her life, the desire he had shown for her last weekend, made her more than just her past?
Andy was pretty sure that it had.
‘Why would she want to do that?’ Darius rasped harshly, drawing Andy’s stricken gaze to him as he stood in the open doorway. ‘Would someone like to tell me what the hell is going on here?’ he added coldly as he stepped into the room, his eyes glittering brightly.
DARIUS HAD SEEN a car that he knew wasn’t Miranda’s parked outside the studio, and heard the sound of raised voices as soon as he entered the building. Well...one raised voice—which he now knew to be Tia Bellamy’s—followed by Miranda’s softer, more measured responses to whatever the other woman was saying to her.
He studied the two women now through narrowed lids, easily taking in the pallor of Miranda’s face, her eyes appearing a huge dark green against that paleness, just as Tia Bellamy’s face was flushed with anger, her eyes like chips of blue glass as she glared at Miranda.
‘Ladies?’ he prompted coldly—although he used the term loosely in regard to Tia Bellamy; as far as he could tell there was little that was ladylike about her, no matter how she might try to give the opposite impression.
The ballerina seemed to gather herself together with effort as she shot Miranda one last telling glare before turning to bestow a flirtatious smile on Darius. ‘It was nothing important,’ she dismissed airily. ‘And I have a rehearsal to get to now, so Andy and I will have to finish catching up some other time— What are you doing?’ she said sharply, Darius having reached out and grasped the top of her arm to stop her from leaving.
His hold didn’t slacken in the slightest. ‘Miranda?’ he prompted softly.
Andy drew in a deep breath before giving a weary shake of her head. ‘Let her go.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Very,’ she bit out decisively.
Darius’s fingers tightened briefly on Tia Bellamy’s arm. ‘I seriously advise you never to come here and upset Miranda again,’ he warned grimly.
Those blue eyes flashed resentfully before Tia reluctantly gave an abrupt nod of her head.
Darius released her, not even sparing her another glance as she left the room. Instead he crossed the room to Miranda’s side as the outer door slammed noisily behind Tia Bellamy seconds later. ‘Are you okay?’ he prompted gently as he placed a hand beneath Miranda’s chin and raised her face to his and looked down at her searchingly.
Was she okay?
Tia had just confirmed what Andy had always suspected: that she had deliberately pushed her off the stage four years ago. Which, although a disturbing revelation, had at least reassured Andy that she hadn’t imagined it after all.
The other woman had also just issued another veiled warning: to cause Andy further harm if she didn’t withdraw from performing at the gala next month.
So was she okay?
Not in the least!
The trembling started in Andy’s knees, before travelling through the rest of her body, so that within seconds, it seemed, she was on the brink of collapsing.
‘Come and sit down before you fall down.’ Darius had placed a firm arm about her waist to hold her against his side as he guided her over to one of the benches against the wall, sitting down and pulling Andy down onto his thighs, resting her head against his shoulder, as his arms came around her protectively.
Which was when Andy’s tears began to fall hotly down her cheeks.
Because she now knew for certain that the shattering of her dream four years ago, of becoming a world-famous ballerina, had been a deliberate and malicious act.
Because of all those years of self-doubt Andy had suffered, when she had sometimes questioned her own sanity, for having even the thought that someone could have deliberately pushed her that night.
To make matters worse, Andy could no longer deny, after seeing Darius again at his mother’s house this morning, that she had fallen deeply and irrevocably in love, and with a man she knew had no intentions of ever falling in