The Maestro's Butterfly by Rhonda Leigh Jones

Author:Rhonda Leigh Jones
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chapter Eight

Miranda cried hard in Claudio’s bed and refused lunch. Surrounded by the warm scent of cologne and man-smell that lingered on his pillow, she felt sick with the thought of leaving him, but sicker at the thought that he may not have really wanted her for anything more than a bargaining chip with his brother.

She dozed, and was unaware how much time had passed when she heard his footsteps upstairs. They were unmistakable—heavy and rhythmic, like the relentless ticking of the metronome he used for teaching her.

She heard a woman’s concerned tone in the kitchen, probably Gena’s, and thought she and Claudio were probably talking about her, which made her hug the extra pillow. Finally, the door at the top of the stairs opened and she heard those footsteps coming down, tock…tock…tock.

He pushed open the bedroom door and came in. She admired the way his slacks and shirt fit him, the way his belt buckle gleamed even in this dim light. He went over to the bedside table, picked up the remote and turned on the electric sconces, then put it down and sat on the bed. The feel of his fingers in her hair made her want to start crying all over again.

“What did you do today?” she asked.

“The usual,” he said. “Teaching the hopeless children of doctors and visiting the theatre. Gena tells me you have not been eating well.”

She thought she detected real concern in his voice.

“What is wrong, Miranda?”

The question drew a deep sigh from her. She had spent hours imagining how she would explain her position logically, how she would negotiate with him and get the information she wanted. But the tenderness in his voice was too much. She blurted her answer through a new sob.

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“I thought you wanted me! But you brought me here for some weird purpose.”

“What purpose, butterfly?”

She hesitated only because it had just occurred to her that other people could get into trouble based on what she said, or what she left out. So she simply said, “No one will tell me anything, but I know something’s up. I know about your brother.”

Claudio’s expression changed from deep concern to utter shock. He blinked rapidly and worked to compose his face, but she could see something dark smoldering there. His voice sounded tight. “What do you know about him?”

She sat up and smoothed back her hair as well as she could. “I know you have something going on with him. And it has something to do with me.”

Claudio’s jaw tensed. He spoke quietly, but with an urgency that frightened her.

“Say you forfeit our bet, little one. Say you are mine forever. Swear it.”

She shook her head and new tears stung her eyes, as if the movement had knocked them loose. I—I can’t, Claudio. You haven’t been honest with me.”

He gave a few quick, decisive nods. “After thirty days, and you are still here, then I will tell you everything. Until then, I cannot.”

“Why?”

“Because I cannot. It is simple. You have to trust my decision.

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