Miranda reacted fast. “How do I know he won’t follow me to yours?”
“I wouldn’t blame him if he did.” His answer was wry.
“This isn’t a joke, Corin,” she told him sharply. “You have to stay with me.”
“What? Share the bed?” He had to try to inject some humour into a situation that was threatening to get out of hand.
“You can have the bed,” she said magnanimously. “I’ll sleep on this sofa. It’s big and it’s very comfortable. We might shift it closer to the bed, though.”
“So we can hold hands?”
“Do you believe me or not?” she challenged. “Or do you think this is some kind of idiotic ploy to entice you here?”
“Never occurred to me.” He kept his voice serious.
“If he’d been real I would have attacked him with my hairbrush. But there was no one. I suppose the fascination of Venice, apart from its beauty, mystery and exoticism, is that it’s tantalisingly spooky. Part of the mythology, isn’t it?”
He fetched up a sigh. “So my mother always said. As for me, I keep an open mind about ghosts. I have to admit it would take a lot to convince me. I do believe, however, you are convinced. Now, I have a suggestion. Why don’t I take you down to my suite? Let you see what you think?”
“No way!” She rejected the offer. “You have to stay here with me. The air changed, you know. It was like I had wads of cotton wool stuffed in my ears, except I could hear the tinkling of the chandelier.”
“It isn’t tinkling now,” he said somewhat dryly.
“Of course it isn’t!” She struck his arm. “He’s gone. Buzzed off. Maybe he has a full roster tonight? Some people are into the paranormal bigtime. The thing is he looked just like he would have looked in life. Not some ectoplasm I could walk through. Stay with me, Corin. This is the most beautiful place in the world, but it is scary.”
He released a long groan, feeling the onset of a raging torrent of emotions. “How can I possibly sleep in the bed and leave you on the sofa?”
“The bed’s big enough for both of us,” she said, trying to persuade him with the appeal in her turquoise eyes.
He groaned louder. “Miranda, there’s not a bed in the world big enough for both of us. What do you think’s going on here? You’re a beautiful girl, and I’m as frail as the next guy.”
“No, you’re not,” she said. “Not once you make up your mind. And you have made it up, haven’t you?”
He gave a soundless laugh. “How do you know my best intentions won’t fall into ruins?”
“If they do, it’s our secret,” she said. “We have secrets, don’t we, Corin?”
“Boy, are you full of surprises!” he exclaimed. “You’re saying you’ll sleep with me?”
“I’m desperate.”
He laughed aloud. “Miranda, I can’t sleep on the sofa. I’m too big. You can. We can’t share the bed. You know as well as I do that’s pushing it too far. My job is to look after you.”
“Well, I didn’t say you have this terrible aching longing for me, did I? You’re not by any chance getting engaged when you go home?”
“Miranda, engagements are the last thing on my mind.” The expression on his handsome face turned severe.
“Me too. So take it easy. Can you sleep in your jeans?”
“You bet I can.”
“Thank you for coming, Corin,” she said. “I’m not making this up. I’m sure of what I saw.”
“Then you’re a very lucky girl!” he offered darkly. “You’ll be dining off the experience for years.” He rose to his six foot plus, giving vent to a disturbed sigh. “Okay, I take the bed.”
“I’ll just curl up here on the sofa,” she said, immensely grateful for his presence. The force in him overrode all sense of trepidation. The worst of the trembling had stopped. “You can throw me the silk throw, if you would.”
“Anything, my lady.” He picked it up and passed it to her.
“Can we keep a light on in the sitting room?” she asked, settling herself with the luxurious silk throw over her.
“I don’t see why not.” He moved into the other room, switching on a single lamp, with its golden pool of illumination. “I just knew in my bones this was going to be a memorable stay. Shut your eyes and go to sleep now, Miranda. Your ghost will know better than to return.”
Chapter Four
SOMETHING drew him out of a tormented sleep. His body was still vibrating, unable to shut down. It had taken him ages to settle into a doze, but at least Miranda had lapsed into sleep almost immediately. Shock, of course. She was a highly intelligent, level-headed young woman. He had to believe she had seen something. Whatever it was, it wasn’t about to bother him. Or he sure as hell wasn’t worried. What worried him was that sex was very much on his mind. Sex with Miranda. God knew it was normal enough to want to make love to a young woman who held him in thrall. But not now—not like this. It seemed to him too much like taking advantage. That he could not do. But try telling that to his powerfully aroused body.
Decency must override desire, Corin.
He was getting a bit tired of his conscience blasting him.
Only the unthinkable had happened. Miranda had crept into bed beside him and now rolled lightly against his back, her petite body with its soft curves and light bones nestled up against his flesh. Tension tore through him. His heart set up a loud tattoo, beating in his ears with the volume turned full on. He turned very carefully, fighting not to give a strangled moan. He was lying beneath the coverlet. She was lying on top of it.
My God, what do I do next?
His whole body was throbbing, stirred into flaming life. He could barely stay in his skin. Desire was a burning fever. He would have coped with half a dozen Venetian ghosts far better than this intensely desirable young woman curled up against him. The lightness of her! The fragrance! A man could drown in it. The only course open to him was to retreat, slide out of the other side of the bed. He could prop himself up on the sofa for the rest of the night. Get comfortable somehow. See it out until morning. Ghosts didn’t hang around in the light of day. They were too tired out from their nocturnal excursions. Or was that vampires? Either way, he didn’t care. Miranda was the real problem.
“Corin?” Just to make the problem near unsolvable, she suddenly sat up, twisting her shining head towards him. Her voice was hushed, but filled with urgency. “Don’t go away. Please don’t. I didn’t like the sofa much. I wanted to be closer.”
“Miranda, stop it,” he begged.
You’re losing it, Corin!
“I can’t stay here in this bed with you,” he said tautly. “You’re nobody’s fool. My whole body is hurting. I’ll make love to you. Nothing surer!”
“Then do it!” she burst out, sounding as though she knew far better than he did. “Ease the pain. This is life! I’ve decided I want to live it. None of us knows how much time we have, do we? Why waste what we’ve got? You’re alive. I’m alive. If you like, when we wake up we can pretend it was all a dream.”
“And you think there’s going to be a lot of comfort in that?” he demanded, aghast. He reached for her, took hold of a bare delicate shoulder where her robe had fallen off. He could see the silver shimmer of her hair, like radiant moonlight. “Are you or are