The Man Every Woman Wants by Miranda Lee Page A

might do, judging by the tension in her fingers.
    â€˜Call me Ryan, please,’ he insisted warmly. ‘And perhaps you’d allow me to call you Cynthia? After all, you’re way too young to be my aunt.’
    â€˜Oh, go on with you,’ she simpered in return, her cheeks going pink with pleasure as her free hand fluttered up to touch her hair.
    Laura could not believe it—Aunt Cynthia, actually blushing. The man was a menace all right. But this was why she’d brought him with her today, wasn’t it? To see this kind of reaction from her family, and Aunt Cynthia most of all. It was worth taking the risk of making a fool of herself with him in private to experience this moment of public satisfaction.
    When her aunt turned stunned eyes towards her, Laura found a slightly smug smile along with a surge of confidence.
    â€˜He is gorgeous, isn’t he?’ she said.
    Ryan was momentarily thrown, not only by Laura’s compliment but by the smoky voice she used.
    Wow, he thought. A guy could get used to her talking to him like that. Of course, he knew it was just an act, but a very convincing one. It looked like he didn’t have to worry about her making a hash of their charade.
    â€˜Thank you, darling,’ he said, giving her hand a little squeeze. ‘You’re so sweet.’
    Laura almost laughed out loud at the look on her aunt’s face. Dear, but it was priceless! Like she had something stuck in her throat.
    â€˜How’s Gran doing?’ Laura asked whilst her aunt was still floundering.
    Cynthia blinked. ‘What? Oh… Er, not too badly.’
    â€˜Can we go and see her straight away?’
    â€˜Perhaps we should take our things in first,’ Ryan suggested. ‘I’d like to freshen up as well.’
    â€˜Yes, yes, of course,’ Cynthia said, quickly recovering her composure to play the perfect hostess, gushing over the car whilst Ryan collected their luggage. He carried Laura’s bag as well as his own, though he left Laura with the coat-hangered dress to carry, along with his dinner suit, which was also underneath a plastic cover. Ryan was glad now that he’d brought a suit with him, rather than more casual clothes. It wasn’t a tux, just a dark grey, single-breasted number which 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.
    â€˜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.
    â€˜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.
    â€˜This house has a lot of history,’ she finished up by saying.
    â€˜It’s a very beautiful