Elusive Passion by Kathryn Smith Read Free Book Online

remarked casually, forcing himself back to the matter at hand.
    She frowned at the compliment. “Thank you.”
    “Your landlord must be a patron of the arts.”
    Varya’s only reply was to tilt her head to one side and stare at him intently. Miles was vaguely uncomfortable with the fact that his question had been so transparent.
    He took a sip of his vodka. “Have you lived in London long?”
    “Not quite half a year.”
    “And why here? Why not Paris or Rome?”
    She tilted her head again, contemplating the question as if he had just asked for the secrets of the universe. It immediately put his guard up.
    “I grew tired of always traveling. I told Bella how I felt. She said, ‘Come to London,’ so I did.”
    Six months would have been right around the time he and Bella had parted company.
    “Bella never spoke of you. If you were such good friends, why is that?”
    “Did you talk to her about your family, Lord Wynter?”
    Miles’s brows drew together at the ridiculous notion. He made it a point never to discuss family with his mistresses—such intimacies only led the women to believe there was more than sexual attraction on his side.
    “No. I did not.”
    Again that mocking tilt of her head. Did the woman have a nervous tic?
    “Then why would you expect Bella to discuss hers with you?”
    “You were related?”
    Varya shook her head, a slight smiling playing about her lips. “No, my lord. We weren’t. I meant that figuratively. I was the closest thing Bella had to family and vice versa. We’ve known each other since we were schoolgirls.” She arched a brow as her smile grew. “You may never have heard about me, but believe me—I heard much about you.”
    Miles’s cheeks warmed. If she was telling the truth, he could only guess at the kinds of things Bella had discussed with this friend she had held too dear even to speak of.
    Time to get back to the matter at hand. “So, you went to Bella’s townhouse because she failed to show up for a breakfast meeting the two of you had planned?”
    She didn’t stop to think of her reply, which pleased him. So far she appeared to have been perfectly candid, but he would not let his guard down. If she was hiding anything about Bella’s death, he would discover it.
    “Yes. The servants didn’t find it strange that Bella was still abed, but she never missed an appointment.”Her features clouded. “I found her as soon as I entered her chamber.”
    “She had been strangled?” He schooled his voice to remain level and impersonal, but inside his guts were tied up tighter than rigging in a ship. How could anyone ever harm Bella?
    Varya nodded. There were tears in her eyes, he noted, and she clenched her jaw to keep them from falling. He wondered if she fought to hide her emotions only from him or if she loathed showing weakness of any kind.
    “She looked so peaceful. Her eyes were closed…” She swallowed. “I almost believed she was sleeping until I saw the marks around her throat. Handprints.” She nodded toward his free hand. “A man’s hands—big.”
    That surprised him. Most women he knew would have been too hysterical to remember anything. “You actually remember the size of the marks?”
    “It’s not the kind of thing one forgets.”
    If abducting him at gunpoint had cast any doubts as to her intellect, the matter was now put to rest. She had an eye and memory for detail.
    “And you immediately concluded the marks were left by my hands?”
    Her cool veneer cracked for a second, revealing a flicker of discomfort before snapping back into place. “You were her last lover. I knew how hurt she was—how she made a fool of herself begging you to come back to her…”
    Miles’s throat constricted painfully. Bella had sent him letters—many letters. His proud Italian beautypromised to do—and be—whatever he wanted if only he’d come back. He had finally stopped reading anything she sent him; he couldn’t stand the guilt.
    “Bella never made a