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your whole story. Or have my people do it for me. Don’t worry. They’re professionals. It will all be very confidential. None of the information they supply to me will get out. Where is this flat of yours?”
    She was so nervous, excited, upset, her hands were shaking. “Look, I’ll write it down for you. And my mobile number. I hope I didn’t seriously ruin your day?”
    “I can’t pretend you haven’t stunned me.” He shot back his cuff to check his watch. “I have a very tedious dinner party tonight I can’t get out of. I’ll get Gil to drop me off first at my apartment, then he can take you home.”
    She became agitated. “No, no, don’t bother. I don’t want to put you to the trouble. Besides, I can’t possibly arrive back at the flat in a Rolls.”
    “Gil can stop and let you out a short distance away,” he said shortly. “Anyway, it will be dark by the time he gets there.” He lifted his hand to signal the chauffeur, who now turned their way, walking down the path.
    “So, will you let me know?” In her agitation she reached out to grip his hand hard, feeling the little shock wave of skin on skin. “Can I trust you, Corin? I do need help.”
    “Have you told anyone else about this? Your friends?”
    The brilliant gaze seared her. “Gosh, no! I promise you I haven’t told a living soul.”
    “A smart move, Miranda, for a smart girl. You’ll hear from me within a few days. We’ll do this thing legitimately.”
    “Legitimately, how?” She perked up.
    “I’ll tell you when I judge it time for you to know,” he said dismissively. “But if you’ve dreamed up some story—”
    “Then you’re free to go to the police.” She spoke with intensity. “It’s no story, Corin. That’s why you’ve been giving me a hearing. Even if your stepmother did lay eyes on me she wouldn’t recognise me.”
    “On the other hand she might,” he answered her bluntly. “There is such a thing as genetics. You said it yourself. How did Leila produce a child with silver-gilt hair and turquoise-green eyes? It has to be your father’s legacy.”
    “Or it could be any number of complex interactions.” She frowned in concentration. “So many variables—enzyms, proteins, biological phenomenon. I’m greatly interested in genetics and genomics, molecular biology. Why wouldn’t I be? I don’t even know who I am. That should put me at a serious disadvantage psychologically.”
    He saw humour in that. “I don’t think so, Miranda. You appear pretty well integrated to me.”
    “Gee, thanks!” She flushed with genuine pleasure. His good opinion meant a great deal. “Trust me, Corin,” she said earnestly. “Leila has totally forgotten she ever had a child.”
    He swallowed his caustic retort. Hadn’t Zara always said there would come a time Leila, their stepmother, the central figure in their father’s life, would be caught out?
    And so it began.

CHAPTER ONE
    The present.
    T HE top floor of the immense glass-and-steel monolith, the command post of Rylance Metals, housed the multibillion-dollar corporation’s hierarchy. As Miranda rode the elevator to Corin’s office she had an overwhelming feeling she shouldn’t be in this building. Not that she would have to duck if she saw anyone. She had been inside Rylance Tower on isolated occasions over the past three years and no one had taken the slightest notice of her. Why would they? Her status of university student would have been obvious to them from her classic student dress. Besides, the Rylance Foundation sponsored a number of gifted students. They came and went. On those occasions she had been careful to maintain her camouflage. On campus she was a lot more flamboyant. Some of her girlfriends laughingly called her a fashionista . Amazing what one could do on a low budget, given a bit of flair. She had inherited that flair from someone. Leila? Leila was renowned for her style.
    She had long since learned from Corin that Leila had been given a