Enjoy eight new titles from Harlequin Presents in August!

Lucy Monroe brings you her next story in the fabulous ROYAL BRIDES series, and look out for Carole Mortimer’s second seductive Sicilian in her trilogy THE SICILIANS. Don’t miss Miranda Lee’s ruthless millionaire, Sarah Morgan’s gorgeous Greek tycoon, Trish Morey’s Italian boss and Jennie Lucas’s forced bride! Plus, be sure to read Kate Hardy’s story of passion leading to pregnancy in One Night, One Baby, and the fantastic Taken by the Maverick Millionaire by Anna Cleary!

We’d love to hear what you think about Presents. E-mail us at Presents@hmb.co.uk or join in the discussions at www.iheartpresents.com and www.sensationalromance.blogspot.com, where you’ll also find more information about books and authors!

Men who can’t be tamed…or so they think!

If you love strong, commanding men,

you’ll love this miniseries.

Meet the guy who breaks the rules to get

exactly what he wants, because he is…

HARD-EDGED & HANDSOME

He’s the man who’s impossible to resist….

RICH & RAKISH

He’s got everything, and needs nobody…

until he meets one woman….

He’s RUTHLESS!

in his pursuit of passion; in his world

the winner takes all!

Brought to you by your favorite

Harlequin Presents® authors!

Miranda Lee
THE MILLIONAIRE’S INEXPERIENCED LOVE-SLAVE

TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON

AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG

STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID

PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND

MILLS & BOON

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All about the author…
Miranda Lee

MIRANDA LEE was born in Port Macquarie, a popular seaside town on the mid-north coast of New South Wales, Australia. Her father was a country schoolteacher and brilliant sportsman. Her mother was a talented dressmaker.

After leaving her convent school, Miranda briefly studied the cello before moving to Sydney, where she embraced the emerging world of computers. Her career as a programmer ended after she married, had three daughters and bought a small acreage in a semirural community.

Miranda attempted greyhound training, as well as horse and goat breeding, but was left dissatisfied. She yearned to find a creative career that allowed her to earn money. When her sister suggested writing romances, it seemed like a good idea. She could do it at home, and it might even be fun!

It took a decade of trial and error before her first romance, After the Affair, was accepted and published. At that time, Miranda, her husband and her three daughters had moved back to the central coast, where they could enjoy the sun and the surf lifestyle once again.

Numerous successful stories followed, each embodying Miranda’s trademark style: fast-paced sexy rhythms; passionate, real-life characters; and enduring, memorable story lines. She has one credo when writing romances: Don’t bore the reader! Millions of fans worldwide agree she never does.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER ONE

SHARNI was about to have lunch in a very trendy Sydney café when her dead husband walked in!

Her hands shook as they gripped the menu, her heart racing as she stared at Ray with shocked eyes.

Common sense finally kicked in, steadying her thudding heartbeat and whirling head.

Of course it wasn’t Ray. Just some man who looked like him.

No, that was an understatement. A huge one. This man didn’t just look like Ray, he was the spitting image of him. If she hadn’t personally identified her husband’s lifeless body five years ago, Sharni might have imagined he’d somehow not been on that horrible train that fateful day.

My God, he even walked like Ray!

Sharni’s stunned gaze slavishly followed the man as he was shown to a table by the window, not all that far from her own. She kept trying to find something different, something out of sync with her mental memory of the husband she’d loved, and lost.

There was nothing.

Maybe this man was a little taller. And dressed a little better. That rusty brown suede jacket he was wearing looked very expensive. So did his cream silk shirt and smart fawn trousers.

Other than that, everything was the same. The same body shape. The same face. The same hair, both in colour and style.

Ray had had the loveliest hair: thick and wavy, a rich brown with a hint of red. He’d worn it longish, well down onto his shirt collar. She’d loved running her hands through his hair. He’d loved it, too.

Ray’s double had exactly the same hair.

Sharni’s mouth dried as she waited for him to sit down, waited to see if he would scoop his hair back from his forehead the way Ray had done every time he sat down.

When he did, Sharni only just stopped herself from crying out.

What cruel trick of fate was this?

She’d been doing so well lately, finally feeling capable of moving on with her life. She was working again. Okay, only part-time, but it was better than sitting at home all day.

This trip to Sydney had been another huge step for her. When her sister had given her a weekend package holiday in Sydney for her thirtieth birthday a couple of months ago, Sharni had initially shrunk from the idea.

‘I can’t leave Mozart for a whole weekend, Janice,’ she’d said straight away, even though she knew this was just an excuse.

Admittedly, Mozart was not the easiest of dogs to mind. He still pined for Ray and could become snappy with other people. John, however—a local vet and Sharni’s employer—had a way with the sad little terrier, and would happily mind him for Sharni.

Janice had seen through her excuse and worked on her quite relentlessly. So had Sharni’s psychologist, a very kind lady who’d been treating her since she was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress a year ago.

Finally, Sharni agreed to go.

Getting on that damned train yesterday had been difficult, but she’d managed, though she’d grabbed for her mobile the moment the train had moved away from the station, fearing a panic attack coming on. Janice had calmed her down with some sympathetic but sensible talking, and by the time the train had arrived in Sydney Sharni had felt a little like her old confident self. Confident enough, anyway, to have her hair done first thing this morning in the hotel beauty salon before hitting the shops to buy some new clothes. Just casual ones, but more expensive than what she usually bought.

Money wasn’t a problem, Sharni hardly having touched the three-million-dollar compensation payment she’d received eighteen months ago.

When she’d walked into this café shortly after one, dressed in one of her new outfits, her spirit had been much more optimistic, and her stomach free from anxiety.

Now, suddenly, her whole world had tipped out of kilter again.

She couldn’t stop staring at the handsome stranger with his heartbreakingly familiar features.

Sharni had read somewhere that everyone had a double in this world, but this was way beyond being a double. If she hadn’t known better, she would have said this man was Ray’s twin brother.

Her mouth fell open at this last thought. Maybe he was! Ray, after all, had been adopted, and had never found out the circumstances behind his birth, saying he didn’t want to know.

It wasn’t unheard of for twins to be separated at birth and adopted out to different families. Could that be the solution to the startling evidence before her eyes?

She had to find out.

Had to.

CHAPTER TWO

ADRIAN had spotted the attractive brunette through the glass front of the café before coming inside. Despite his having a penchant for attractive brunettes, her presence had nothing to do with his entering. Since moving into his luxury apartment in Bortelli Tower a month ago, Adrian had become a regular at the ground-floor café, partly because of its convenience but mostly because the food was great.

The brunette had looked up when he’d walked in. Looked up and looked right at him. Hard.

At another time, Adrian might have encouraged her by returning solid eye contact, instead of averting his own gaze and pretending he hadn’t noticed her interest.

Today, however, he was not in the mood for female company. He was still smarting over what Felicity had said to him last night.

‘You should never have a real girlfriend,’ she’d thrown at him after he’d been appallingly late for a dinner date. ‘What you need is a mistress! Someone on tap who’s just there for the sex. Someone you don’t have to seriously care about, or consider. What I need is a man to love me with his whole heart and soul. The only thing you love, Adrian Palmer, is yourself, and your bloody buildings. I’m sick to death of waiting for you to ring me, or to show up. A good friend warned me about your reputation as a womanising workaholic, but I stupidly thought I could change you. I see now that I can’t. So I’m out of here. Maybe one day you’ll meet some girl who’ll break your heart. I sure hope so.’

Being told he had a reputation as a womanising workaholic had shocked Adrian. So had the realisation that he’d hurt Felicity, whom he’d always thought was as career-orientated as he was. Obviously, she’d been more emotionally involved with him than he’d ever been with her.

He should have noticed, he supposed. But he hadn’t.

He’d spent a sobering few hours last night, vowing to change his self-centred ways. Which was why he continued to ignore the brunette, despite his male ego being seriously stroked by the way her eyes followed him all the way across the room.

But when he sat down and scooped his hair back out of his own eyes, he caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window.

Wow, she wasn’t just attractive. She was very attractive, with long glossy black hair framing a pretty face and big brown eyes, which remained flatteringly glued to him.

When he picked up the menu, Adrian couldn’t help slanting a quick glance her way. Her eyes immediately dropped away, but not before he saw embarrassment in them.

Thank goodness she wasn’t the bold type, he thought, otherwise he might be tempted to go over to her table and ask her to join him for lunch. Which didn’t say much for his resolve to mend his womanising ways.

The brunette’s action of getting up from her table and approaching his totally surprised Adrian.

‘Um…excuse me,’ she said, rather hesitantly.

He glanced up from where he’d been pretending to read the menu.

She was even prettier up close, with a heart-shaped face, clear skin, a sweet little turned-up nose and a very kissable mouth. Her figure wasn’t half bad, either, shown to advantage in superbly tailored black trousers and a fitted pink jumper, which emphasised her full breasts and tiny waist.

‘I’m sorry,’ she went on, ‘but I have a question which I simply must ask you. You’ll probably think it very rude of me, but I…I need to know.’

‘Know what?’

‘Are you adopted, by any chance?’

Adrian blinked up at her. As a pick-up line, this was a highly original one and very effective. Far better than the old ‘Have we met somewhere before?’

Maybe he’d misread her earlier. Maybe she was bold. But with enough womanly wiles to be subtle in pursuit of what she wanted.

That was one of the reasons he was drawn to brunettes. He’d always found them interesting. And more of a challenge.

Adrian was a man who liked a challenge.

‘No, I’m definitely not,’ he replied, and wondered what she’d do now.

She frowned, her expression bewildered.

‘Are you absolutely sure? I mean…I don’t want to cause trouble, but some parents don’t tell their children they’re adopted. Is there any chance at all that you could be?’

Adrian finally appreciated that she wasn’t trying to pick him up. Her question was genuine, evidenced by the distress in her quite lovely brown eyes.

‘I assure you that I am my parents’ biological child, and I have photos to prove it. Besides,’ he added, ‘my father would never have kept something as important as that from me. He was a real stickler for honesty.’

‘That’s incredible, then,’ she said. ‘Truly incredible.’

‘What is?’ he asked, curious now.

She shook her head. ‘No matter,’ she muttered rather dispiritedly. ‘I’m sorry for bothering you.’

‘No, don’t go,’ he said when she began to turn away. There was a mystery here to solve.

Adrian loved mysteries almost as much as challenges.

‘You can’t leave me up in the air like this. I need to know why you thought I was adopted. Sit down and tell me.’

She glanced worriedly back at her table where she’d left her handbag, along with several shopping bags.

‘Why don’t you get your things and join me for lunch?’ he suggested.

She stared back at him for a long moment. ‘I’m sorry. I…I don’t think I can do that.’

‘Why not?’

Her eyes grew agitated, as did her hands, their wringing action bringing his attention to her wedding and engagement rings.

The realisation that she was married disappointed Adrian more than anything had in a long time.

‘Because your husband wouldn’t like it?’ he said, nodding towards her left hand.

Mentioning her husband seemed to agitate her more.

‘I…I don’t have a husband any more,’ she blurted out. ‘I’m a widow.’

Adrian found it hard to hide his satisfaction at this news.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, and tried to sound sincere.

‘He was killed in an accident. I…I identified his body. I…Oh, God, I…I have to sit down.’

She slumped into the chair opposite him, her pale skin having gone a pasty grey colour.

Adrian hastened to pour her a glass of chilled water from the carafe on the table. She gulped it down, after which she shook her head again.

‘You must think me mad. It’s just that you…you look so much like him.’

‘Like who?’ he said just before the penny dropped.

‘Ray.’

‘Your dead husband.’

‘Yes. The resemblance is uncanny. You…you could be twins.’

‘I see,’ Adrian said. ‘So that’s why you wanted to know if I was adopted.’

‘It…it seemed the only solution.’

‘They say everyone has a double, you know.’

‘Yes, yes, so I’ve heard. That must be the case here. But it was still a shock.’

‘I can imagine.’

‘Actually, now that I see you up close, your features are not exactly the same as Ray’s. Some things are a bit different. I’m just not sure what…’ Her head tipped to one side as she studied his face.

‘How long ago was your husband killed?’ he asked, thinking it had to be recent.

‘Five years.’

Adrian frowned. Five years! And she was grieving still. She must have loved him a lot. Still, it was high time she moved on. She was still young, and very lovely. Very, very lovely, he thought with a familiar prickling in his loins.

‘Ray was killed in a train derailment in the Blue Mountains,’ she explained sadly. ‘Several people died that day.’

‘I remember that. It was very tragic. And preventable, if I recall rightly.’

‘Yes. The train was going too fast for the conditions of the track.’

‘I’m very sorry for your loss. Did you and your husband have any children?’ She looked old enough to have had children. In her late twenties, or maybe thirty.

‘What? No,’ she said a bit brusquely. ‘No, we didn’t. Look, I…I think I’d better get back to my own table. I’m sorry to have bothered you. Thank you for the water.’

Adrian extended his right hand over the table towards her before she could escape.

‘My name is Adrian Palmer,’ he introduced himself. ‘I’m an only child, son of Dr Arthur Palmer, general practitioner, now deceased, and Mrs May Palmer, one-time nurse, long retired. I’m thirty-six years old, unmarried and a successful architect. I designed this building.’

She stared at his outstretched hand, then up at his face. ‘Why are you telling me all this?’

‘So that I won’t be a stranger. That is why you refused to have lunch with me, isn’t it?’

CHAPTER THREE

SHARNI didn’t know what to say. Because her refusal to have lunch with Adrian had nothing to do with his being a stranger.

‘Oh, I see,’ he said knowingly, his hand dropping back to the table. ‘It’s because I remind you too much of your husband.’

‘Yes,’ she choked out. And it wasn’t just his looks. She still could not forget the way he’d swept his hair back from his forehead. Not to mention the way he walked, with long, loose-limbed strides.

Just like Ray.

‘Is that such a bad thing?’ he asked gently.

‘Well, no, I guess not…’

‘Now that you’re over the shock of our physical similarities, I’m sure you can see lots of differences.’

His voice was certainly different. Ray had had a rather strong Australian accent. This man—this Adrian Palmer—spoke with a voice that betrayed a private-school education. Not plumy, but cultured and refined.

He also had a confident air about him that Ray had never possessed. Her husband had been a quiet, shy man whose emotional neediness had appealed to Sharni’s nurturing nature.

It was ironic, however, that his double was an architect, the profession Ray had always aspired to but which he’d never felt he had the ability to enter. Instead, he’d become a draughtsman.

‘Please don’t say no,’ his double said, and smiled a smile that was totally unlike Ray. It was a seductive smile, showing dazzlingly white teeth and an almost irresistible charm.

Sharni was surprised to find herself wavering. Maybe because, suddenly, he didn’t remind her of Ray at all.

‘It’s only lunch,’ he added, blue eyes twinkling up at her.

Ray’s eyes had rarely twinkled, she recalled. They’d been quiet pools whilst this man’s resembled a sparkling sea.

‘All right,’ she agreed before she could think better of it.

He was up out of his chair in a flash, getting her things before she could hardly draw breath.

‘Been clothes shopping, have we?’ he said breezily as he placed her carrier bags on the spare chair next to her.

‘What? Oh, yes. I…I still have some more to do this afternoon.’

‘Right.’

When he sat back down, he swept his hair back with his hand again, leaving Sharni speechless once more.

He smiled at her across the table. ‘You’d better introduce yourself.’

‘What?’ she said blankly.

‘Your name. Or do you want to remain a mystery woman?’

Sharni gave herself a mental shake. ‘There’s not much mystery about me,’ she said with a small laugh. ‘It’s Sharni. Sharni Johnson.’

‘Sharni,’ he repeated. ‘That’s a most unusual name. But it suits you. Ah, here’s the waiter for our order. Do you know what you want, Sharni, or would you like to take a risk and let me order for you? It’s not too much of a risk, as I’ve eaten here several times before, haven’t I, Roland?’

‘Indeed, you have, Mr Palmer,’ Roland answered.

‘Very well,’ she said, thinking to herself that Adrian Palmer’s confidence bordered on arrogance.

‘You like seafood?’ he asked as he studied the menu.

‘Yes.’

‘What about wine? Do you like white wine?’

‘Yes.’

‘In that case, Roland, we’ll have the steamed bream fillets with side salad, followed by the almond and plum tart. With cream. But first, bring us a bottle of that white I had the other day. You know the one. It’s a Sauvignon Blanc from Margaret River.’

‘Right away, Mr Palmer.’

Sharni had to admire his savoir-faire. It had been a long time since a man had ordered a meal for her with such panache. Ray had been a bit of a waffler when it came to deciding what to order in a restaurant. Making decisions had not been her husband’s forte. That had been her domain.

Or it had once. Sharni’s decision-making capabilities had disintegrated shortly after she’d won the compensation case. It was as though she’d stayed strong whilst she’d sought justice. But the moment the verdict had come down in her favour, she’d gone to mush.

Winning three million dollars compensation had proved to be a hollow victory, because all the money in the world would never make up for the loss of her husband and her beautiful little baby.

Still, life did go on, as Janice kept telling her.

Her sister would have been proud of her for not running away just now. Though she might be suspicious of Sharni’s motives for agreeing to having lunch with Ray’s double. Janice might think she was pretending Ray were still alive, and nothing had changed at all.

That was not the case. This man might look like Ray, but he was nothing like him in personality. The only time she could ever pretend he was Ray was if he didn’t speak. Or if he was asleep.

‘You really designed this building?’ she asked once the waiter departed.

‘I certainly did. Do you like it?’

‘To be honest, I haven’t had a proper look at it. I was walking past on this side of the street, smelt food, realised it was lunch-time and came in for something to eat.’

‘After lunch, I’ll give you the royal tour. I live on one of the upper floors.’

Lord, she thought. What a fast worker!

‘I don’t think so, Mr Palmer.’

‘Adrian,’ he corrected with another of those seductive smiles of his.

Sharni had to confess that she found his attention flattering. She also found him very attractive. Which was only logical. Ray’s looks had been the first thing to attract her. Physically, he’d stood out in a crowd. It wasn’t till she’d talked to him that she’d realised how shy he was.

That had appealed to her at the time. Nowadays, however, she would probably go for a more confident, outgoing kind of man, the kind who would look after her, not the other way around.

But she wasn’t ready yet to leap back into the dating world, especially not with the dead spit of her dead husband. And certainly not with such an accomplished ladies’ man.

Sharni knew a womaniser when she met one.

‘I don’t think so, Adrian,’ she said quite coolly. ‘Lunch is all I agreed to. Take it or leave it.’

He sighed. But it didn’t sound like a defeated sigh. Sharni suspected he was already thinking of another tack to take.

The wine’s arrival brought that confident smile back to his handsome face, reminding her not to drink too much. She’d gone through a stage a year or so back when she’d drunk far too much. Nowadays, she limited her alcoholic intake, having been advised that alcohol was not good for depression, which she fell into every time her thoughts dwelled on all that she had lost.

It had been too much to bear. First her husband, and then their baby. Oh, God…

‘Penny for your thoughts.’

Sharni gritted her teeth as she glanced up, then reached for her glass of wine. To hell with being sensible, she thought, I need this drink today.

Adrian watched her sweep the glass up to her lips and take a deep swallow.

‘They’re worth a lot more than that,’ she replied. Somewhat bitterly, he thought.

‘I’m not sure what you mean there.’

She took another gulp of wine before answering. ‘I was thinking about the compensation I received from the Rail Authority.’

‘I hope they gave you a decent amount.’

Her laugh was very definitely bitter. ‘They weren’t going to. So I got myself a lawyer and sued them.’

‘Good for you.’

‘I was very lucky. My lawyer was brilliant. A woman. She was so incensed by my case that she gave me her services, pro bono.’

‘That doesn’t happen too often.’

‘Jordan was wonderfully kind to me.’

Adrian’s eyebrows arched in surprise. ‘Jordan as in Jordan Gray of Stedley & Parkinsons?’

Sharni’s wineglass stopped in mid-air. ‘Why, yes. Do you know Jordan?’

‘She’s married to Gino Bortelli, the Italian businessman who commissioned me to design this building. It’s called the Bortelli Tower.’

‘Good heavens! When did all this happen? Jordan wasn’t married when she represented me.’

‘About a year or so back. It seems Jordan and Gino knew each other years before and ran into each other again by accident when Gino was up here on business. Just in time, since Jordan was about to become engaged to another man. Anyway, to cut a long story short, true love won out. They’ve not long returned from an extended honeymoon in Italy. But they don’t live in Sydney. Their home is in Melbourne.’

‘What a shame. I would have loved to catch up with Jordan.’

‘I can give you their home phone number, if you like.’

‘Oh, no. No, I wouldn’t impose like that. I was just a client after all, not a close friend. But I’m glad to hear Jordan’s happily married. I presume she is happy?’

‘Very. She and Gino have a baby already. A boy. They called him Joe.’

‘How lovely,’ she said, her eyes going all misty for a moment. ‘I’m so glad for her.’

‘How much compensation did she get you?’ Adrian asked. ‘Or is that a rude question?’

‘Three million.’

He whistled. ‘That’s a nice tidy sum. I hope you’ve invested it wisely.’

‘It’s safe.’ Safe, sitting in a bank account that paid a reasonable rate of interest and had absolutely no risk at all.

‘Do you still live in the Blue Mountains?’ he asked her.

‘Yes. On the outskirts of Katoomba.’

‘So you’re just down here in Sydney today to shop?’

‘Not exactly. My sister thought I needed a little holiday. She gave me a weekend package at one of Sydney’s boutique hotels as a birthday present.’

‘You mean it’s your birthday today?’ What a perfect excuse to take her out this evening. If he could persuade her to go, of course!

‘No. My birthday was quite a few weeks ago.’

‘And you were?’

She slanted him a sharp glance. ‘Now that is a rude question. You should never ask a woman her age.’

He smiled. ‘I thought that only applied when they reached forty.’

‘Not in my book.’

‘Fair enough. So what do you do? Or don’t you work any more?’

‘I’m a veterinary assistant. But I’m only working part-time these days.’

Why was that? he wondered. Because she didn’t need the money, or because she was still traumatised by the tragedy of her husband’s death, or perhaps the subsequent trial?

There was something in her eyes when she mentioned the compensation that told him the trial had been just that. A trial. Adrian was well aware of how stressful it was to go to court over anything. He himself had had to sue a client once, and it hadn’t been pleasant. How much worse when it involved the tragic death of a loved one.

Her air of sadness touched him. But so did her Madonna-like beauty. It was damned intriguing, the effect Sharni was having on him. He could not recall ever feeling quite like this. She brought out the gallant in him. More than anything he wanted to make her smile. Wanted to give her pleasure.

More like give yourself pleasure, a sarcastic inner voice piped up. You want to get her into bed. That’s the bottom line. That’s always the bottom line with you, Adrian.

Adrian frowned. Normally, he would agree. But not this time. This time, something was different. He didn’t want to seduce Sharni so much as have the opportunity to spend more time with her. He wanted to get to know her. Really know her, not just in bed.

‘I wanted to become a vet,’ she went on, ‘but my marks at school weren’t good enough. I never was one to study. I’m a practical, hands-on kind of person.’

‘I don’t think it matters what you do in life, as long as you enjoy what you’re doing.’

‘You obviously enjoy being an architect,’ she said, and he smiled.

‘Does it show?’

‘You seem a happy man.’

‘I love my work,’ he said. ‘Too much, some people would say.’

Even his own mother thought he was way too obsessive.

But that was his nature. Adrian could never do things by half. When something interested him, he became consumed, body and soul.

This woman interested him, in ways no woman ever had before.

This in itself was intriguing. What was it about her that made her so interesting to him? Yes, she was very pretty, but he met lots of pretty girls. She wasn’t super-clever, or super sophisticated, or super sexy, as Felicity had been.

Aside from being a brunette, Sharni was different from every woman he’d ever dated. They’d all been highly educated career girls whom he’d met through his work. Felicity had been a top interior designer. Before that, there’d been a female architect or two, a corporate lawyer, a computer expert and one super-smart marketing manager.

There’d not been one veterinary assistant who lived in the bush and blushed when caught in the act of looking at a man.

‘You’re staring at me,’ she said in a low voice.

Adrian smiled. ‘Well, that makes us even. You’ve stared at me a good deal today.’

His counter-attack clearly flustered her. ‘Yes, but you know why.’

‘Are you saying you only find me attractive because I remind you of your husband?’

She blinked her surprise at his directness. ‘Who said I find you attractive?’

‘Your eyes told me. The same way my eyes are telling you I find you attractive.’

Her cheeks went pink. ‘Please don’t flirt with me, Adrian.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I…I can’t handle it.’

‘Are you saying I’m the first man to pay you this kind of attention since your husband died?’

‘I haven’t been with another man since Ray, if that’s what you’re asking. I don’t go out. And I don’t date.’

Her admission stunned Adrian. Five years of living by herself. Five years without male company, or sex of any kind. It wasn’t natural. Or healthy.

‘I find that terribly sad, Sharni.’

‘Life is sad,’ she said, and took another sip of wine.

‘You are coming out with me tonight,’ he stated firmly.

Her eyes widened before meeting his over the rim of her glass.

‘Am I?’

There was enough wavering in those two words, and in her eyes, to satisfy Adrian.

‘Absolutely,’ he said, just as their meals arrived.

CHAPTER FOUR

‘COFFEE or tea?’ Adrian asked.

Sharni looked up from where she’d been devouring the last bite of the simply delicious almond and plum tart.

Roland was standing by their table, patiently waiting for her decision.

‘Coffee, please,’ she said after dabbing her mouth with the white linen serviette. ‘Cappuccino.’

‘I’ll have a short black,’ Adrian told the waiter who swiftly departed to do their bidding.

Sharni could see why Adrian came here often. Not only was the food great, but the service was very quick.

‘So where would you like me to take you tonight?’ he asked.

Sharni sighed. She should have known he’d come back to that sooner or later. He’d very cleverly lulled her into a false sense of security over their meal by stopping the flirtatious talk and steering any conversation onto more impersonal topics such as food, politics and the weather.

Now, his eyes were back on hers again, their focus disturbingly intense. But oh-so-flattering.

He was right. She did find him attractive. How could she not? But Adrian’s charm for her was not just physical. It was the way he made her feel, as if he found her the most fascinating female in the world.

There was no use pretending she didn’t want to go out with him tonight. But the prospect was accompanied by a measure of fear. What if he tried to seduce her? What if he succeeded?

For the last five years Sharni had lived a sexless existence, that part of her body having totally shut down. She hadn’t had a period since she’d lost her baby, various doctors suggesting her lack of hormonal activity was caused by shock and grief. To be honest, she hadn’t given sex a second thought in ages.

Now, suddenly, she was very definitely thinking about it.

Was the wine over lunch to blame, or this man’s amazing resemblance to Ray?

She’d been sexually attracted to Ray from the moment. But they’d dated for several weeks before they’d slept together. Even then, it had been left up to her to make the first move, Ray having been chronically shy in the bedroom department.

Not so this man, she thought as she glanced across the table. He would know all the right moves.

If only he didn’t look so much like Ray…

‘We could have an early dinner then go to a show afterwards,’ he said, breaking into her ongoing silence. ‘Or a show first and supper afterwards, if you’d prefer. Have you seen The Phantom of the Opera? The musical, not the movie. They say this latest revival is better than all previous productions.’

Sharni had always loved the story of the phantom. She thought it highly romantic. Andrew Lloyd Webber’s music was marvellous too, echoing the uncontrollable passions that consumed the main character.

‘No, I haven’t,’ she admitted. ‘But—’

‘No buts, Sharni,’ he broke in. ‘Your sister gave you this weekend in Sydney so that you could enjoy yourself. It’s not much fun sitting in a hotel room by yourself, especially on a Saturday night. If you’re still worried about my being a stranger, then I’ll ring Jordan right now so that she can vouch for me.’ To show he meant it, Adrian pulled a silver mobile phone from his jacket pocket and flipped it open.

‘No, no, you don’t have to do that,’ she said hurriedly. ‘I can see you’re not some kind of creep.’

His handsome face showed shock. ‘I should hope not.’

‘I suppose it wouldn’t be much fun sitting in the hotel room tonight all by myself.’

‘So you’ll come?’

‘You’ve talked me into it.’

‘Fantastic,’ he said, smiling.

Her heart fluttered. So did her stomach. He really was utterly gorgeous when he smiled like that.

‘What about The Phantom?’ he asked. ‘Is that a goer, or would you prefer a different show? A play, perhaps.’

‘No, no, I love musicals.’

‘Would you like me to book dinner before or supper afterwards?’

‘I think supper afterwards.’

‘That’s great,’ he said with a satisfied glint in his bright blue eyes. ‘Now, after we finish our coffee, I’m going to take you across the street to a spot where you can have a proper look at my pride and joy. Then, after you’ve been suitably impressed with my brilliance at designing the outsides of the building, I’ll give you a quick tour of the inside.’

‘It’ll have to be very quick,’ she told him. ‘I’ll need some time before the shops close to buy a suitable outfit to wear tonight. I only bought casual clothes this morning.’

‘I could come shopping with you, if you like?’

Sharni could see he was very much a takeover type of person. ‘Don’t you have something else you should be doing this afternoon?’

‘Not really,’ he said. ‘I finished my latest plan to my satisfaction late yesterday. I always give myself a complete break between projects.’

‘For how long?’

‘At least a day,’ he said, laughing. ‘So what do you say? I have good taste in women’s clothes.’

‘I hate taking anyone clothes shopping with me,’ she said quite truthfully. ‘I prefer to trust my own taste.’

‘And an excellent taste it is, too,’ he complimented, his gaze admiring as he looked her up and down.

Sharni could not help smiling. ‘I think you are an incorrigible charmer.’

‘And I think you could do with a bit of charming. Ah, our coffee’s coming.’

‘Just as well. I need sobering up. I think I’m a little tipsy.’ It wasn’t like her to feel this light-hearted. Or this happy.

Once they’d finished their coffee, Adrian saw to the bill whilst Sharni picked up her shopping bags and stood up.

Oh, dear, she thought when her head whirled alarmingly. There was no doubt about it. She’d had way too much to drink!

CHAPTER FIVE

‘OH, MY!’ Sharni exclaimed. ‘That is one magnificent building.’

They were standing together on the pavement across the street, Adrian holding her shopping bags whilst Sharni shielded her eyes from the sun’s rays and gazed up at Bortelli Tower.

‘I never imagined anything this big, or this beautiful!’ she said with ego-stroking awe in her voice. ‘I love the grey colour of the glass you’ve used.’

‘The manufacturer calls it smokescreen. Naturally no UV rays can get through. Or heat, or cold.’

‘It’s gorgeous. And the hexagonal shape is just so unusual.’

‘I like it.’

She smiled up at him. ‘I dare say you do, since you designed it. How many floors are there?’

‘Twenty-five. The first ten are devoted to office space. There’s a health club and heated pool on the eleventh floor. After that, it’s all privately owned apartments, with lots of balconies to take advantage of the views.’

‘I bet they’re very expensive.’

‘They are. But Gino sold every one of them off the plan.’

‘Wow! That’s incredible. So what floor do you live on?’

‘The twenty-fifth.’

‘The twenty-fifth.’ She frowned momentarily before gaping up at him. ‘You live in the penthouse?’

Adrian loved her sweet surprise. ‘It was part of the contract I made with Gino when he commissioned my services.’

‘But a penthouse right in the middle of Sydney has to be worth millions! I didn’t realise architects got paid that much.’

‘Some of us do,’ he replied, thinking of the seven-figure fee he usually commanded for this type of job. ‘But Gino asked me to oversee the construction of the building as well, so the penthouse came as a bonus.’

‘Do you do that kind of job often?’

‘Sometimes. It’s great watching my designs take shape. But projects of this scale take a special sort of commitment. That’s why I was able to negotiate such a good deal with this one. Come on, let’s go back over the road and I’ll take you up onto the rooftop. The view from up there is incomparable on a clear winter’s day.’

‘Will that take long?’ she asked. ‘It’s getting on for two-thirty.’

‘I could have you up there in five minutes,’ he said. ‘And back down here shopping in fifteen, tops. All the lifts are the latest high-speed design.’

She still hesitated.

Adrian understood why. Sharni was a nice girl. And nice girls didn’t swan up to a man’s apartment within a couple of hours of meeting him. Not even if that apartment was a penthouse worth millions.

‘I promise I won’t make a pass, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ he reassured her. ‘I just want to show you the view.’

This was only partly true. What he actually wanted, more than anything, was the opportunity to spend a little more time with her. She delighted him as no woman had ever delighted him. It was a serious shame that she wouldn’t let him go shopping with her. He would have loved helping her choose the right outfit for tonight. A sexy little black dress, perhaps. With long tight sleeves, a short, bottom-hugging skirt and a low-cut neckline. Very low. The kind of neckline that needed a decent bust to show it off. Like the one Sharni had.

Adrian gave himself a mental shake when his train of thought began transferring messages to his body. Highly arousing messages.

Thank goodness it was winter and he was wearing a jacket.

His sudden upsurge in testosterone, however, urged him to take more control of this situation.

‘Come on,’ he said firmly, cupping his free hand around her elbow and steering her back towards the pedestrian crossing at the corner.

She didn’t protest, he noted, going along with what he wanted. As a woman sometimes did when a man took the helm.

‘This way,’ he said once they reached the kerb, and led her along the street frontage towards the main entrance of the building. On the way, they had to pass two shops, one of which was a very exclusive ladies’ fashion boutique.

As luck would have it, there, on a mannequin in the window, was an outfit that was absolutely perfect for going to the theatre. It wasn’t totally black. Only the skirt, which fell in floaty folds to mid-calf length. The top was purple, and beaded, with three-quarter sleeves and a deep, crossover neckline, which was subtly sexy.

Not so subtle were the black five-inch heels that the window-dresser had put on the model’s feet.

‘Oh!’ Sharni exclaimed, and ground to an admiring halt in front of the window.

‘You’d look good in that,’ Adrian said straight away.

More than good, but he didn’t want to gush. Women didn’t like men who gushed.

‘You really think so?’

‘I really think so,’ he said coolly. ‘Let’s go inside and you can try it on.’

CHAPTER SIX

SHARNI looked at herself in the dressing-room mirror and thought, Wow, I really do look good, just like Adrian said I would.

Not just good, Sharni amended as she turned this way and that, setting the black chiffon skirt swinging around her legs. I look sexy.

And I feel sexy.

Was it the wine she’d drunk over lunch? Or because the salesgirl had suggested she take off her bra?

Sharni’s curves rarely went without support, despite their not being saggy in any way. She’d never been inclined to show off her breasts in public, Ray having always liked her conservative way of dressing.

What would he think if he saw you in this top? Sharni wondered as she stared at her exposed cleavage.

He’d be shocked, she knew. Shocked and disapproving.

She felt shocked, too. Not by the way she looked, but by the way she felt.

Unbearably excited.

A tap on the dressing-cubicle door sent a nervous gasp punching from her lips. ‘Yes?’

‘Your husband wants you to come out and show him what you look like,’ the salesgirl called through the door.

Sharni should have denied he was her husband. But she didn’t.

Instead, she swallowed, then opened the door.

‘Oh, no,’ the salesgirl said, glancing down at her stockinged feet. ‘You can’t go out there like that. I’ll get you some shoes. What size are you?’

‘Seven.’

‘In that case the ones on the model should fit you. Wait here. I’ll go get them.’

The shoes were produced, with Sharni having to sit down to put them on. They were cripplingly high and sinfully sexy, each having a narrow strap across the front, with two more straps attached at the back which wound round her ankles and tied in a bow. She’d never in her life worn anything like them.

Sharni teetered at first when she stood up, having to keep her steps small as she made her way very slowly out to where Adrian was waiting, leaning against a counter in the middle of the boutique.

He straightened on seeing her, his blue eyes narrowing as they raked over her from top to toe.

Never had any man looked at her in quite that way before, not even Ray. The intensity of his gaze overwhelmed her, making her knees go to jelly.

‘Walk up and down a few times,’ Adrian commanded in that masterful way that made Sharni’s stomach flutter wildly.

Not a totally unknown state for her these days. But her nervous tummy was usually due to anxiety, not excitement.

Once she found her balance, her hips surprised her by developing a decidedly sexy sway. The effect on her psyche was amazing. Suddenly, she was a femme fatale; a temptress who commanded all male eyes be upon her.

But there was only one male Sharni wanted looking at her at that moment. And he very definitely was, with glittering blue eyes that evoked a heat in her that felt both shameful and shameless.

‘I told you you’d look great in that,’ he said, his voice low and sexy.

Sharni’s heart quickened its beat.

‘She’ll take it,’ he told the salesgirl before Sharni had a chance to come to a decision.

‘The shoes as well?’ the girl asked Adrian.

‘Absolutely,’ came his crisp reply.

‘You…you do realise I’ll probably never ever wear these shoes again,’ she said, even as she admired them.

‘Of course you will,’ he countered. ‘Every time you wear that fantastic outfit. Now go get changed, like a good girl, while I fix up the bill.’

Sharni flushed with the weirdest mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. ‘I can’t possibly let you pay for my clothes, Adrian,’ she protested. ‘It’s not right.’

‘What’s not right about it? I can well afford a few hundred dollars.’

‘That’s not the point!’

He smiled, then reached out to stroke a tender fingertip down her nose. ‘All right, sweet Sharni,’ he said, his eyes soft on hers. ‘You can pay for your own clothes. But this is the last time you get to pay for anything when you’re with me. Off you go and change now. But don’t be too long. Now that you have something suitable to wear tonight, you don’t have to waste the afternoon shopping. We can spend it together, doing something more interesting.’

He was like a steamroller, Sharni thought as she changed back into her trousers and jumper.

But it was exciting, being swept along like this.

What did he have in mind for this afternoon? she wondered momentarily before deciding she wouldn’t wonder. Or worry. About anything. Not even what it was about her that interested him.

After all, a man like Adrian would have no shortage of women—more beautiful than herself—throwing themselves at him.

This last thought did give Sharni something to worry about. Surely Adrian must have a girlfriend. Surely!

Should she ask him and risk bringing an abrupt ending to their time together today? Or avoid the question altogether?

Sharni was still dithering over this dilemma when she emerged from the dressing room.

Adrian’s satisfaction at the way things were going was temporarily derailed when he saw the expression on Sharni’s face.

He didn’t like whatever was going on in her mind, but didn’t say a word whilst she paid for her purchases. Experience had taught him never to tamper with a woman’s mind. They were minefields that could blow up in your face when least expected.

‘Let me take a couple of those,’ she said when they left the shop with him carrying all her parcels.

‘If you insist,’ he returned, thinking he would need a hand free to extract his key-card for the lifts.

‘I insist,’ she said, and took the two bags from the boutique.

They walked in silence over to the main entrance to the tower.

‘This way,’ Adrian said, the automatic doors opening when he stepped forward onto the entry mat.

Their reflection in the glass, however, showed that Sharni had ground to a halt behind him, that worried look still on her face.

Gritting his teeth against a flash of irritation, he turned and rejoined her on the pavement. ‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I…I have to ask you something.’

‘What?’

‘Is there anyone in your life who would be upset with you taking me out tonight?’

‘A girlfriend, you mean.’

‘Yes,’ she said, her eyes fixed unswervingly on his.

Man, but she would be a difficult person to lie to. Not that he had to, thank God. Felicity was definitely no longer his girlfriend.

‘Absolutely not.’

If anything, her frown increased with his answer. ‘I…I do find that hard to believe.’

Adrian’s frustration was tempered by the flattery within her statement. ‘There was someone till recently,’ he said, but refrained from saying how recently. ‘Let me assure you that there’s no one who could object to my taking you out tonight.’

Her sigh showed genuine relief. ‘That’s good, then.’

‘And if I’d said there was someone?’ he couldn’t resist asking.

Adrian empathised with the flash of indecision that crossed her face, because it echoed his feelings for her. Never in his life had he felt this strongly about a woman within hours of meeting her. He’d been attracted at first sight in the past. But this was more than that.

If there’d been some new man in Sharni’s life, he would still have pursued her.

‘No need to answer that,’ he went on before she could put her obviously muddled thoughts into words. ‘It was a silly question. Come on. I want to get you upstairs while the sun’s still shining.’

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