“Sarah was my secretary, I admit. But we did not have an affair.”

Tina folded her arms and practically rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, come now, Mr. Hunter, I didn’t come down in the last shower. I know exactly what happened between you and Sarah. How you can stand there and deny having slept with her is beyond me.”

“I am not the father of that baby, or any other baby. Honey, you’ve got the wrong man.”

Tina actually smiled at him, an icy smile that set his teeth on edge. “You are Dominic Hunter, the head of Hunter & Associates, aren’t you?”

“You know I am.”

“Then I’ve got the right man. But if you insist on a DNA test, I won’t object….”

Facing Up To Fatherhood
Miranda Lee

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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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

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

TINA glanced up at the towering office block, then down at the pram, and the baby lying within.

‘Here we are, darling!’ she announced to the pretty pink-clad infant. ‘Your daddy’s workplace. Unfortunately, your daddy’ll be in a meeting all afternoon, according to his secretary. Didn’t have time for any appointments. Which is just too bad, isn’t it? Because he’s going to see us today whether he likes it or not!’

Arching a well-plucked eyebrow, she angled the pram determinedly towards the revolving glass doors, hoping for more success than her encounter with the train doors earlier on. Manoeuvring a pram, Tina had found, was as hazardous as one of those wayward shopping trolleys, the kind whose wheels had a mind of their own. Still, she’d only been doing it for a week, so she supposed there were excuses for her ineptitude.

It was a struggle, but she finally emerged unscathed into the cavernous semicircular foyer with its acre or two of black granite flooring. Tina negotiated this pram-friendly surface with thankful ease, bypassing the busy reception desk and skirting several large lumps of marble masquerading as art, finally halting beneath the huge directory which hung on the wall beside the bank of lifts.

Hunter & Associates, she swiftly noted, occupied floors nineteen and twenty. Tina also noted Hunter & Associates carried no description of what services or utilities the company provided, other than to say ‘Management’ was on the twentieth floor.

This might have been a modest oversight, but Tina rather imagined it reflected its owner’s character. Dominic Hunter arrogantly assumed everyone knew his company was one of Sydney’s most successful stockbroking and investment firms.

He had also arrogantly assumed his affair with his secretary last year would never rise up to bite him on his arrogant backside.

But he was wrong!

Sarah might have been a softie. And a push-over where men were concerned. But Tina was not!

Sarah’s daughter deserved the very best. And Tina aimed to make sure she got it. She would give Dominic Hunter a second chance to be a proper father to his beautiful little daughter. If he didn’t come to the party willingly, then he would be made to pay. And pay handsomely. In this day of DNA testing, simply denying fatherhood was a thing of the past.

‘Just let him try it, darling,’ she informed the baby girl as she wheeled the pram into the lift. ‘If he does, we’re going to have his guts for garters!’

CHAPTER TWO

DOMINIC raised his eyes to the ceiling as he hung up the phone.

‘Women!’ he muttered frustratedly, before standing up to gather his papers together for that afternoon’s meeting, almost knocking over a cold, half-drunk cup of coffee in the process. Only a desperate lunge and grab prevented coffee spilling all over his desk.

He righted the mug and plonked it well to one side, his sigh carrying total exasperation. He was having a really bad day.

His colleagues might have thought it was the present economic crisis which was causing his tetchy mood. But that wasn’t the case. Dominic thrived on the challenges the financial arena kept throwing at him, finding great excitement and personal satisfaction in making money, both for himself and all his clients. He’d been called a stockmarket junkie more than once, and had to admit it was true.

No, Dominic could always cope with business problems. It was the opposite sex which was irritating the death out of him.

Frankly, he just didn’t understand the species, especially their obsession with marriage and babies. Couldn’t they see that, in this present day and age, the world would actually be better off with less of both? There certainly wouldn’t be as many divorces, or so many unhappy neglected children!

But, no! Such common sense views never seemed to cut the mustard with women. They went on wanting marriage and babies as though they were the panacea for all the world’s ills, instead of adding to them.

The same thing applied to romantic love. Crazy, really. When had this unfortunate state ever brought women—or men for that matter—any happiness?

Dominic had grown up in a household where that kind of love had caused nothing but emotional torment and misery.

He wanted none of it. Love or marriage or babies—a fact reinforced in his early twenties when a girlfriend had tried to trap him into marriage with a false pregnancy.

The thought of imminent fatherhood and marriage had horrified him. Perhaps his panic had had something to do with own father being a lousy parent—as well as a faithless husband—producing a subconscious fear he might turn out to be just as big a jerk in that department. He’d already looked like the man.

Whatever, Dominic’s relief at discovering the pregnancy had been a lie had been very telling. It had also been his first intimate experience at just how far a female would go in pursuit of that old romantic fantasy called ‘love and marriage’.

After that sobering experience, Dominic always took care of protection personally when having sex. He was never swayed by any female’s assertion that she was on the pill, or that it was a ‘safe’ time of the month. He also always made his position quite clear to every woman he became involved with. Marriage was not on his agenda, no matter what!

His mother found his views on the subject totally unfathomable. With typical female logic, she simply dismissed them as a temporary aberration.

‘You’ll change your mind one day,’ she would say every now and then. ‘When you fall in love…’

Now that was another romantic illusion his mother harboured. His falling in love! He’d never fallen in love in his life. And he had no intention of doing so. The very word ‘falling’ suggested a lack—and a loss—of control which he found quite distasteful, and which could only lead to one disastrous decision after another!

Fortunately for him, his mother had been able to channel her grandmotherly hopes up till now towards his younger brother, Mark, who’d married a couple of years back. Dominic had simply assumed Mark and his wife would reproduce in time, thereby letting him permanently off the hook.

But a few months ago his one and only sibling had unexpectedly arrived home and announced he was leaving his wife to go off to Tibet to become a Buddhist monk! To prove it, he’d promptly given all his considerable worldly goods to his rapidly recovering wife and taken off, his subsequent letters revealing he was happy as a lark living on some mountain-top monastery with only a yak for companionship!

It didn’t take a genius to conclude there would be no imminent hope of a grandchild from that quarter!

Which had brought his widowed mother’s focus right back on him, her only other offspring, and now her only other hope of providing her with a grandchild!

She’d been driving him mad with her none too subtle pressure, inviting all sorts of unattached females home to dinner. All of them beautiful. All of them sexy. And all of them wanting—or pretending to want—the same thing his mother wanted. Marriage and babies.

She’d just rung to check that he wouldn’t be too late home for dinner tonight, because she’d invited Joanna Parsons over.

‘The poor darling has been so lonely since Damien died,’ Ida had purred down the line.

Lonely? Joanna Parsons? Dear God! The woman was a sexual vampire. Even before Damien’s death, in a car crash six months ago, she’d done her best to seduce him. As a merry widow, there would be no holds barred!

Dominic liked his sex, but he liked it unencumbered, thank you very much. And with women who held the same views as he did. His current lady-friend was an advertising account executive whose marriage had broken up because she’d been already married to her job. Dominic saw her two or three times a week, either at her apartment after work or in a hotel room at lunchtimes, an arrangement which suited them both admirably.

Shani was thirty-two, an attractive brunette with a trim gym-honed body. She wasn’t into endless foreplay or mindless chit-chat or sentimentality, the word ‘love’ never entering what little conversation they had. She was also fanatical when it came to her health. If ever Dominic might have been tempted to believe a woman when she said it was safe, it would have been Shani.

But long-ingrained habits died hard, and Dominic maintained a cynical distrust of the female psyche. It would never surprise him to discover that his latest bed-partner, no matter how career-minded, had fallen victim to her infernal biological clock. In his experience, not even the most unlikely female was immune to that disease!

Take the case of Melinda, his invaluable PA, who’d been with him for years and always said she wanted a career, not the role of wife and mother. So what happened? She’d turned thirty and in less than twelve months had married and left to have a baby. On top of that, she’d refused to come back to work, abandoning him totally for the home front.

He’d been most put out!

Naturally he’d had to take steps to ensure such a thing wasn’t going to become a regular occurrence, though at the time finding a replacement for Melinda had been a right pain in the neck. There’d been no question of keeping the girl on who’d filled in during Melinda’s supposedly temporary maternity leave. As efficient and sweet as Sarah was, beautiful, young, unattached females were out—a decision reinforced by what had happened when he’d taken Sarah out for a thank-you meal on the last evening of her employ.

Dominic shuddered to think that even he could become a temporary victim of his hormones, if the circumstances were right. He’d been between women at the time, and had drunk far too much wine with his meal. When he’d taken Sarah home in a taxi and walked her to the door of her flat she’d unexpectedly started to cry. Her louse of a boyfriend, it seemed, had just the day before dumped her for some other woman.

Dominic had only meant to comfort her, but somehow comfort had turned to something else and they’d ended up in bed together for the night. They’d both regretted it in the morning, both agreed not to mention it again.

Sarah had gone back to her normal job as a secretary in Accounts on the floor below his, and he’d met Shani at a dinner party that very weekend.

His new secretary, Doris, had started the following Monday morning.

Thank God for Doris.

Now Doris would never cause him any worries. She was fifty-four, for starters, happily married, with a healthy, undemanding husband and grown-up children who didn’t live at home. She didn’t mind working late when required, and didn’t object to making him coffee at all hours of the day. If his tendency to untidiness bothered her—and he suspected it did—she didn’t say so to his face, just quietly cleaned up after him. A woman of great common sense and tact was Doris.

The intercom on his desk buzzed and he flicked the switch. ‘Yes, Doris?’

‘The others are waiting for you in the boardroom, Mr Hunter.’

That was another thing he liked about Doris.

She called him Mr Hunter, and not Dominic. It had a nice, respectful ring about it, and made him feel older than his thirty-three years.

‘Yes, yes, I’m coming. Hold all calls, will you, Doris? Absolutely no interruptions. We have a lot of work to get through this afternoon.’

The lift doors opened, and Tina steered the pram, along with the now sleeping infant, onto the twentieth floor. Straight ahead was a long glass wall with floor-to-ceiling glass doors upon which was written in gold lettering ‘Hunter & Associates—Management’.

Beyond was another sea of black granite, dominated by a shiny black reception desk.

Tina wondered caustically if the glossy blonde perched behind the desk had been chosen personally by Dominic Hunter himself.

Maybe he had a penchant for blondes. She recalled Sarah saying something about the big boss being present at her second interview for Hunter & Associates, after which she’d swiftly been hired.

Of course Sarah hadn’t just been any old blonde. Though her long fair hair had been her crowning glory, she’d been equally striking of face and figure. Her stunning looks had been a problem all her life, and hadn’t brought her any happiness. Men hadn’t been able to keep their eyes, or their hands, off.

Poor, sweet Sarah had always believed the declarations of love which had poured forth from her current pursuer’s mouth. After she’d become a secretary working in the city, she’d been especially susceptible to the smoothly suited variety of male, especially good-looking ones with dark hair, bedroom blue eyes and a convincing line of patter to get her into the cot and keep her there without actually offering any solid commitment.

Sarah had been a sucker for that combination every time, always believing herself in love. Once in love, Sarah had become her latest lover’s doormat, thinking that was the road to the wedding ring and the family of her own she’d always craved.

Naturally it had never turned out that way, and Sarah had been dumped in the end. It had driven Tina mad to watch her friend being used and abused by one silver-tongued creep after another. Married, divorced or single, it hadn’t mattered. If they’d told Sarah they loved her, she’d been putty in their hands.

Tina had tried to give solace and advice after each break-up, but her patience had worn thin over the years. She’d finally seen red when, shortly after Sarah had been promoted to the plum job of PA to Dominic Hunter, Sarah had confessed to being in love again. When pressed, she’d admitted the object of her affections was her new boss. A terrible argument had ensued. Tina had told Sarah that she’d sleep with any man if he said he loved her, and Sarah had retaliated that Tina had a heart of stone, was incapable of really loving anything or anyone but herself.

They were the last words the two friends had said to each other. That had been just over a year ago.

And now Sarah was dead.

Tina’s chin began to wobble. She had to swallow hard to stop herself from bursting into tears.

‘I won’t let you down, Sarah,’ she whispered as she gazed down at Sarah’s beautiful little baby girl. ‘Your Bonnie’s going to have everything you would have wanted for her. Every possible advantage. There will be no feeling of not being loved or wanted. No hand-me-down clothes. No leaving school at fifteen. As for Welfare and foster homes! Never! Not as long as I’ve got breath in my body!’

Hardening herself for the fray which undoubtedly lay ahead, Tina pushed the glass door open with the pram and forged over to the desk.

‘I’m here to see Dominic Hunter,’ she announced firmly to the glamorous green-eyed blonde. ‘And, yes, before you ask, I do have an appointment,’ came the bald lie.

Faint heart never won fat turkey, Tina always believed. She’d never have gained entry to the most prestigious drama school in Australia if she hadn’t been confident of her acting ability. Admittedly, she’d auditioned for three consecutive years before she’d won one of the coveted positions of entry. But that wasn’t a measure of ability, she’d always told herself. It was as hard to get into AIDA as Fort Knox!

The blonde directed her towards a long polished corridor which led into another smaller reception area covered in plush dark blue carpet. The pram wheels immediately floundered in the thick pile, then came to a rebellious halt.

‘Can I help you?’ came the puzzled but cool query.

Tina

glanced up at the severely suited woman seated behind the now familiar shiny black desk.

Dominic Hunter’s secretary, Tina concluded with much surprise. For the woman wasn’t blonde. Or pretty. Or young.

Tina wondered cynically if Dominic Hunter had finally learned his lesson about mixing business and pleasure.

‘I’m here to see Dominic,’ she returned, just as coolly.

The secretary frowned. ‘Mr Hunter is in a meeting all afternoon. He specifically asked that I not disturb him for anything.’

Tina finally got the wheels straight and bulldozed the pram across the carpet. ‘I doubt he meant me,’ she said, stopping in front of the desk. ‘Or his daughter, here.’

The woman’s eyes widened as she rose to peer over her desk, down into the pram. ‘His…daughter?’ she repeated, startled.

‘That’s right,’ Tina answered crisply. ‘Her name is Bonnie. She’s three months old. Could you please tell Dominic that she’s here and would like to meet her father at long last?’

The secretary blinked, then cleared her throat. ‘Er…perhaps you’d best come into Mr Hunter’s office and I’ll go get him.’

Tina’s smile was icy. ‘What a good idea.’

Dominic Hunter’s office was another surprise. Although the room was huge, the carpet still plush, and the view of Sydney breathtaking, it was an office laid out for working, not impressing. There were several work stations around the walls, each with its own computer, printer, phone, fax and swivel chair. Every computer was still on, winking figures at Tina. Every surface was messy, littered with papers of various kinds. The main desk wasn’t much better.

The secretary made an exasperated sound at the sight of it, shaking her head as she lifted a half-drunk coffee mug from its glossy black surface, Snatching a tissue out of a nearby box, she vigorously rubbed at the stain left behind, muttering ‘truly’ under her breath.

Meanwhile, Tina lowered herself into one of the two empty upright chairs facing the main desk, crossing her long legs and angling the pram closer so she could check that Bonnie was still sleeping.

‘What a good little baby you are,’ she crooned softly as she tucked the pink bunny rug tightly around the tiny feet. When she’d finished, and looked up, it was to find the secretary staring at her as though she’d just landed from Mars.

‘I dare say Mr Hunter will be with you shortly,’ the woman said, and, shaking her head again, left the room, shutting the door behind her.

That same door burst open less than two minutes later, and Tina’s head whipped round to encounter her first view of Bonnie’s father.

Dominic Hunter was even more of a surprise than his secretary, or his office.

Yes, he was tall, as she’d anticipated. And dark-haired. And handsome, in a hard-boned fashion. He even had blue eyes.

But, despite all that, the man glaring at her across the room didn’t fit the picture she’d formed of him in her imagination.

Sarah’s lovers had usually been suave and elegant, perfectly groomed and beautifully dressed. They’d oozed a smooth charm and sophisticated sex appeal which girls of Sarah’s upbringing seemed to find irresistibly attractive.

Dominic Hunter hardly fitted that description.

He marched into the room, a menacingly macho male with his big, broad-shouldered body and close-cropped haircut. The sleeves of his blue shirt were rolled up as though ready for battle, his tie was missing, and the top button around his muscular neck undone. His scowl was such that his dark straight brows momentarily met above his nose.

Frankly, he looked more like a construction site foreman about to bawl out his labourers rather than a successful stockbroker who should have been able to handle even this sticky situation with some aplomb.

Grinding to a halt next to the pram, he glowered, first down at Bonnie and then up at Tina again. ‘I hear you’re claiming this is my daughter!’ he snarled.

Tina refused to be intimidated by this macho bully. She wondered what on earth Sarah had seen in the man. She could only speculate that he came up better in bed than out of it.

‘That’s right,’ she said.

He gave her a look which would have sent poor Sarah running for cover. Tina began to understand why her friend hadn’t approached Bonnie’s biological father for help and support a second time. When this man finished with a woman, he would expect her to stay finished.

But she wasn’t Sarah, was she?

Tina almost smiled as she thought of what Mr Hunter was up against this time. Brother, was he in for a surprise or two of his own!

‘Wait here,’ he growled.

‘I’m certainly not going anywhere,’ she said in a calm voice, and received another of those blistering looks.

Tina didn’t even blink, holding his killer gaze without the slightest waver.

He stared hard at her for several more seconds, then whirled and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Tina sat there, whistling and swinging her left foot. It was to be hoped Mr Macho was out there getting a grip on himself and finding some manners. Or at least some common sense. Because she wasn’t about to go away, not this side of Armageddon!

The minutes ticked steadily away.

Five…

Ten…

Her blood pressure began to rise a little, but she’d been mentally ready for this. She hadn’t expected the man to come to the party willingly, not when he’d already denied paternity, given Sarah money for a termination and sent her on her way.

Frankly, Tina had expected nothing from him, and he was living up to her low opinion of men of his ilk. Obviously she had a fight on her hands to get the financial support she needed to raise Sarah’s daughter in the manner Bonnie deserved.

But she enjoyed a good fight, didn’t she? She was always at her best when her back was against the wall.

The sound of the door finally opening had her swivelling in her chair with an aggressive glint in her eye. How dared he keep her waiting this long?

The sight of two burly security guards entering startled her, then sent her blood pressure sky-high. So that was how he was going to play it, was it?

Gritting her teeth, she stood up and gave the approaching guards a haughty look of disdain. ‘I gather Mr Hunter won’t be returning?’

‘That’s right, ma’am,’ the bigger and older of the two informed her. ‘He said to tell you that next time he’d be calling the police.’

‘Really? Well, we’ll see about that, won’t we? No, that’s not necessary!’ she snapped when the guard who’d spoken forcibly took her by the elbow. ‘I’ll go quietly.’

Despite her protests, the two guards still escorted her till she was outside the building.

She stood there on the pavement for several moments, glaring up at the top floors, struggling to get her temper under control. She imagined the bastard peering back down at her from his lofty position, smug and smirking with triumph.

‘You’ll get yours, Dominic Hunter,’ she threatened under her breath. ‘I’m going to take you to the cleaners!’

Scooping in several deep breaths, Tina forcibly slowed her pounding heart and found some much-needed composure. Her brain finally began ticking over, and she started wondering why Bonnie’s father was so sure of his ground that he would dare have her thrown out. It was a stupid move to bluff about paternity in this day and age.

No matter what else he might be, Dominic Hunter was not stupid.

It suddenly dawned on Tina that he probably believed Sarah had had that termination he’d paid for, which meant he might not have realised Bonnie was the baby Sarah had come to see him about, despite her being the right age. He possibly thought Bonnie was another baby entirely, and she, Tina, was the mother. When he’d stared so hard at her it could have been because he was trying to recall if he’d ever slept with her or not. Since he hadn’t, naturally he’d assumed she was trying to pull off some kind of false paternity suit.

That had to be it!

Tina could have kicked herself. She should have said straight up that she wasn’t the biological mother.

‘Your new mummy’s an idiot,’ she told the now wide-awake infant as she wheeled the pram towards the taxi rank on the corner. ‘But don’t worry, I have a contingency plan. Since I’ve temporarily blotted my copybook with your father, we’ll go see your grandmother and gain entry that way. Yes, I know you’re getting hungry and wet. I’ll feed and change you in the taxi. I’ve brought everything with me. Bottles. Nappies. Spare clothes. Aren’t you impressed?’

Several passersby glanced over their shoulders at the tall, striking brunette wheeling the brand-new navy pram along the pavement, oblivious of everything but the baby to whom she was talking fifteen to the dozen.

‘Just wait till your nanna sees how beautiful you are. And how good. She won’t be able to resist you. I couldn’t, could I? And look at me? A hard-nosed piece if ever there was one. Or so your real mummy used to say. And she was probably right. But she wasn’t right about my not being able to love anything or anybody. No, my darling, she was quite wrong about that…’

CHAPTER THREE

THE nerve of the woman! The darned nerve!

Dominic fumed as he glared down at the pavement below and watched her pushing the pram down the street. What on earth did she think she was playing at? How did she think she was going to get away with such an outrageous claim? Even if he was one of the unlucky few whose condom had failed, did she honestly imagine that he wouldn’t remember sleeping with someone like her?

She wasn’t the sort of female he would forget in a hurry. For one thing, she was exactly his type. Dominic had always been attracted to tall, slim brunettes with interesting faces and dark, glittering eyes who made it obvious from their first meeting that men were not their favourite species. He liked the challenge of getting them into bed, then watching them abandon their feminist aggression for the short time his sexual know-how—and their own basic needs—overcame their natural antagonism. He’d had several rather lengthy involvements with such women, and prided himself on keeping them as friends afterwards.

Oh, yes, he would have remembered having sex with…damn it all, he didn’t even know her name! She’d only supplied Doris with the name of her baby.

Bonnie.

As if that would mean anything to him!

He watched till she disappeared under a street awning, certain that that would be the last he’d see of her.

Perversely, he almost regretted having had her thrown out so hastily. He should have questioned her further, listened to her tall tale, found out what it was she wanted from him.

Money, he supposed, as he turned from the window and strode across his office towards the door. What else could she possibly have wanted?

He ground to a halt with his hand reaching for the doorknob, his forehead creasing into a frown.

But why had he been the target of her attempted con? It wasn’t as though he had a reputation for indiscriminate and promiscuous behaviour. He certainly wasn’t the sort of man who could be convinced he’d slept with some stranger whilst drunk or under the influence of drugs. He never drank to that much excess and he never took drugs!

Maybe she’d mixed him up with someone else, he speculated. Maybe she was the one who’d forgotten who it was she’d slept with. Maybe the father of her baby was someone else working at Hunter & Associates. Or a stockbroker from another firm. Someone who looked like him, perhaps.

Yes, that had to be it, he decided firmly. It was a case of mistaken identity.

Now, forget her and get back to work, he ordered himself. You’ve wasted enough time for one day!

Mrs Hunter’s address was in Clifton Gardens, an old but exclusive Northshore suburb which hugged Sydney Harbour and where even the simplest house had an asking price of a million.

Mrs Hunter’s house, however, wasn’t simple. It turned out to be a stately sandstone residence, two-storeyed, with a wide wooden verandah. The block was huge, and the gardens, a visual delight, immaculately kept.

Tina frowned at the sight, and the conclusions such a property evoked. Dominic Hunter’s family possessed old money, the kind which inevitably produced people who thought they were a cut above ordinary folk. Arrogance was as natural to them as breathing.

If Mrs Hunter proved to be such a snob, maybe she wouldn’t welcome an illegitimate grandchild into her life, regardless of how adorable Bonnie was. Maybe she would be as sceptical—and as rude—as her son. Maybe she would swiftly show Tina and Bonnie the door, as he had done.

Tina’s resolve wavered only momentarily, her confidence regained by a glance at the beautiful baby in her arms.

No woman in the world could resist Bonnie, she reasoned. Not if she had any kind of heart at all!

Tina was climbing out of the taxi before a second dampening thought occurred to her. What if Dominic Hunter’s mother wasn’t at home?

She’d set about discovering the woman’s existence and her address that morning, after she’d been told by Dominic Hunter’s secretary that she couldn’t see the great man himself that day.

Severely irritated at the time, Tina had swiftly rung Dominic Hunter’s secretary back, putting on an English accent and pretending to be an embarrassed florist who was supposed to deliver flowers to Mr Hunter’s mother that day but had lost her particulars.

At the time, she hadn’t even known if his mother was still of this world. Presuming he did have a mother. It would never surprise Tina to find out that the Dominic Hunters of this world were spawned in a test-tube. Or cloned from some other selfish macho creep with a megalomania complex.

A couple of minutes later she had hung up, with everything she needed to know. Mrs Hunter was still alive and well. And Tina knew where she lived.

She’d been going to go straight to the grandmother, but an indignant anger had sent her to Bonnie’s father first. An impulsive decision.

Turning up on Mrs Hunter’s doorstep without even ringing first wasn’t much better.

Tina sighed. ‘Would you mind waiting a few moments till I check to see if anyone’s at home?’ she asked the taxi driver as he paid him. ‘I just realised the lady of the house might be out.’

‘No sweat,’ the driver said, and walked over to open the front gate for her.

Giving him an appreciative smile, Tina popped Bonnie back in the pram and set off up the paved front path, feeling too nervous now to admire the bloom-filled rose-beds which dotted the spacious front yard. It had been one thing to confront Bonnie’s father. She’d known he was going to be difficult from the start.

His mother was proving a different kettle of fish entirely.

Although Tina tried to feel confident of the woman’s reaction, she really could only hope.

But, oh, how she hoped! She desperately wanted Bonnie to have a grandmother who would lavish love upon her in the way only a grandmother could.

Not that Tina had any personal experience of a grandmother’s love. But she gathered they specialised in the sort of unconditional affection and outrageous spoiling which both she and Sarah had only dreamt about during their growing-up years.

She also wanted Mrs Hunter to talk her son into recognising his daughter and agreeing to help support Bonnie financially, without Tina having to resort to legal pressures.

Pulling the pram to a halt at the base of the four stone steps which led up onto the wide wooden verandah, Tina put on the brake, then left the pram there while she hurried up the steps and rang the front doorbell.

For a nerve-racking twenty seconds, it looked as if no one was home, but then the door opened and there stood a woman of about sixty. Casually dressed in navy slacks and a floral blouse, she was tall and slim, with a handsome face and short, naturally grey hair. Best of all, there was a reassuring softness in her intelligent blue eyes.

‘Yes?’ she said with an enquiring smile.

‘Are you Mrs Hunter?’ Tina asked.

‘Yes, I am, dear. How can I help you?’

The dear did it. And the sweet offer of help. Tina had studied human psychology during the course of her acting career, and had become a pretty good judge in assessing character, especially when it came to women.

Mrs Hunter was no snob, for starters. Most important of all, she was kind.

Smiling with relief, Tina turned and waved to the taxi driver. ‘It’s okay,’ she called. ‘You can go now.’

‘Righto.’

She turned back, just as the woman spotted the pram at the bottom of the steps. It was facing the house so that she could see Bonnie’s sweet little face quite clearly.

‘Oh, what a beautiful-looking baby!’ she exclaimed, and moved down the steps for a closer look. ‘A girl, I presume?’ she said, glancing up at Tina over her shoulder.

‘Yes.’

‘May I hold her? She’s wide awake.’

‘Please do.’

A warm, squishy feeling settled in Tina’s stomach as she watched the woman carefully scoop her grandchild up and start rocking her. Even after the seven short days Tina had cared for Bonnie she knew nothing enchanted the child more than being held and rocked in just that way. She would never cry while someone was doing that. She would just lie there and gaze up at the person rocking her, a look of total bliss on her lovely little face.

‘What’s her name?’ her unwitting grandmother asked.

‘Bonnie.’

‘And yours, dear?’

‘Tina. Tina Highsmith.’

‘So, what are you selling, Tina?’ Mrs Hunter asked while she smiled down at Bonnie. ‘If you’re an Avon lady, then I’m sorry, but I don’t wear make-up any more other than a bit of lipstick. If you’re with that other mob, then I also already have everything that opens and shuts in the houseware department. My son has no imagination when it comes to presents and always gives me something for the house. He’s into practicality, is Dominic,’ she added ruefully.

‘Actually, Mrs Hunter, I’m not selling anything. And it’s your son, Dominic, I’ve come to see you about.’

This got her attention, startled blue eyes blinking up to stare at Tina. ‘Dominic? Really? What about?’

‘About Bonnie, there,’ she said, nodding towards the baby. Tina swallowed, steeling herself for any possible negative reaction to her next announcement. She could only hope the woman was as nice as she seemed. ‘She…she’s Dominic’s daughter.’

Tina was amazed at the speed and intensity of the various emotions which raced across Mrs Hunter’s face. Shock gave way to a moment’s uninhibited joy, swiftly followed by a deeply troubled concern.

She walked slowly up the steps to stand close to Tina, her expression still troubled. ‘Does Dominic know?’ she asked warily.

‘I tried to tell him today, but I made a stupid mistake in the telling and he had Security throw me out of the building.’

Concern gave way to outrage. ‘He what?’

‘It was my fault, Mrs Hunter,’ Tina explained hurriedly. ‘I see that now. When I told him that Bonnie was his daughter I forgot to add that I am not the mother. I think he took one look at me, knew I was a stranger to him, and jumped to the conclusion I was trying to operate some kind of scam.’

Outrage changed to puzzlement. ‘If you’re not the mother…then, who is? Your sister?’

‘No. My best friend.’ Tina swallowed as that awful lump filled her throat, the one which always came when she thought of Sarah’s dying. ‘Sarah worked at Hunter & Associates all last year. She was Dominic’s secretary from late July till the 25th November. Bonnie was born on August 19th. Sarah was critically injured when she was knocked down by a bus last month. She…she lived a few days, but didn’t make it. Before she died, she made me Bonnie’s legal guardian. Her birth certificate actually says ‘father unknown’, but I know Bonnie’s father is your son.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘Very sure, Mrs Hunter.’

Mrs Hunter was frowning. ‘Did your friend actually tell you Dominic was the father of her baby?’

Tina hesitated. She didn’t want to lie to the woman. It was just that the truth was so complicated, and possibly confusing to anyone who hadn’t known Sarah well. The actual evidence Tina had concerning the identity of Bonnie’s father was largely circumstantial, and partly second-hand. Mrs Hunter might think Tina was jumping to conclusions, but she knew better.

‘Sarah and I told each other everything,’ she said firmly at last, happy that this had been the truth—at least till they’d parted company. ‘We were more like sisters than friends. Your son is Bonnie’s father all right, Mrs Hunter. A DNA test should remove any doubt, however, if he continues to deny paternity.’

‘What…what do you mean…continues?’

‘Sarah went to see him when she found out she was pregnant. Dominic refused to believe the baby was his, though he did give her some money for a termination.’

‘Which she obviously didn’t have…’

‘No. Sarah didn’t believe in abortion.’

‘Thank God,’ the woman sighed, and smiled down at the baby in her arms before glancing up at Tina, tears in her eyes. ‘I’ve always wanted a grandchild. You’ve no idea. I honestly thought I would never have one. Dominic was so adamant about not wanting marriage and children. And then his brother, Mark…well—’

She broke off and frowned at Tina. ‘You said you were made the baby’s legal guardian. Why is that, Tina? I know you said you were like a sister to this Sarah, but what about the child’s maternal grandparents? Or aunts and uncles?’

‘Sarah’s mother died in a house fire when she was nine. Sarah never knew her father, or her grandparents. Her mum was a bit of a black sheep, you see. Ran away from her home in the country to the city when she was a teenager. She wasn’t married when she had Sarah. I gather the father abandoned them before she was born. So, no, there are no close relatives interested in Bonnie. I’m all she’s got at the moment.’

‘I see. And what is your situation, dear? Are you married?’

‘No, I’m not.’

Mrs Hunter’s expression was thoughtful. ‘I see. Er…are going to raise little Bonnie all by yourself, then?’

‘I will if I have to, Mrs Hunter. But I’d prefer to have some help. I haven’t any family, either, you see. My mother died in the same house fire Sarah’s did. She was an unmarried mother too, you see. And a runaway as well.’

Not to mention a woman of the night. Both women had been. But Tina thought it best not to bring up too much of their unsavoury backgrounds lest Mrs Hunter be the sort of person who thought such things were hereditary and not environmental.

‘When Welfare could find no relatives who wanted us,’ she went on matter-of-factly, ‘Sarah and I spent the rest of our growing-up years in a state institution.’ When they hadn’t been fostered out to people, that was.

‘Goodness. You poor things!’

‘We survived, Mrs Hunter. But you can understand how we became so close. Sarah has entrusted me with the care and upbringing of her daughter and I aim to make sure she has the very best. I have no intention of Bonnie ever ending up like we did, with no money, and no adult to love and care for her.’

‘You won’t have to worry about that, dear. I’ll be here for her, and for you. And so will Dominic, once I have a word or two with him. You can depend on that! Look, I think you’d best come inside and tell me absolutely everything. Then I think you’d best stay till Dominic gets home this evening and we can have a family pow-wow over all this.’

Tina was taken aback. ‘Your son lives with you?’

‘Well, yes…he does.’

‘Oh, dear!’

‘He’s not a Mummy’s boy, if that’s what you’re thinking. His decision to live with me was a practical decision, not a sentimental one.’

‘Believe me,’ Tina said drily, ‘I don’t think your son is a Mummy’s boy. It’s just that he’s not going to be pleased to find me here when he comes home. Maybe you could ring him at the office and forewarn him.’

‘Absolutely not! No! He doesn’t deserve forewarning,’ she said brusquely. ‘Besides, Fridays are never a good day to ring Dominic at the office. I’ve already rung him once today and received a very poor reception. Which reminds me. I’d best ring Joanna and cancel her dinner invitation for tonight.’

‘Not because of me, I hope,’ Tina said, while wondering who Joanna was. A friend of Mrs Hunter’s? Or Dominic’s?

Mrs Hunter smiled a strange little smile. ‘Not at all, dear. She’s just a widow friend of mine. She can come another night. I’m a widow too, so little Bonnie won’t be having a grandfather, I’m afraid. But you’ll have me, won’t you, darling?’ she crooned down at the baby. ‘Now, come along, dear, you bring the pram and I’ll carry Bonnie. We’ll have a cup of tea and a nice long chat. Then, afterwards, we might fill in the rest of the afternoon down at the shopping mall, buying a few little things for Bonnie here. Would you mind?’

‘Oh, er…not at all.’

Off the woman went, making baby talk at Bonnie as she went, leaving Tina to do as ordered, trailing after her with the pram in rather a daze. There she’d been, thinking Mrs Hunter was such a sweet, gentle soul.

Which she was. But she was also a whirlwind of energy and decisiveness. Tina supposed it was unlikely that a too soft or susceptible personality could have produced a son like Dominic Hunter.

Dominic Hunter…

A lesser girl might have quailed to think of his reaction when he first spied her in his home this evening. She could just imagine it. Those hard blue eyes of his would narrow dangerously. The thick straight brows above them would beetle together again while smoke would waft from his flared nostrils. His broad shoulders would broaden while that huge chest of his would fill with outraged air. He would be ready to explode in seconds!

Tina smiled to herself.

She could hardly wait.

CHAPTER FOUR

DOMINIC considered being deliberately late home. He even contemplated ringing his mother at the last moment and claiming a fictitious business dinner in town.

But cowardice wasn’t really his bag and he climbed into his blue BMW just before six and headed for the bridge. He would endure the dinner but had no intention of making any effort with that woman.

With a bit of luck Damien’s merry widow—and his matchmaking mother—would finally see he was a lost cause where she was concerned. Lord, nothing turned him off quicker than gold-digging females who gushed all over him.

Blondes weren’t really his thing, either. Nor double D cup breasts which jiggled like unset bowls of jelly.

Give him a tall, slender brunette, with long legs, a tight butt and firm boobs, and he was instantly interested. Make her a challenge and the combination was irresistible.

Joanna Parsons was neither.

An image of the brunette who’d been in his office today popped into his mind.

Again.

She’d been doing that all afternoon, even distracting him from work on several occasions.

Still, she’d been deliciously sexy in those tight white pedal-pusher pants and chest-hugging white ribbed top. Her hair was sexy too. Long and dark and kind of wild-looking, just like its owner.

Pity she was a con-artist. Or a fool.

Dominic was wondering which she might be when he turned into the driveway and parked the car outside the double garage. He still hadn’t made up his mind by the time he slipped in the back door.

He was halfway up the stairs, heading for the sanctuary of his bedroom and private en suite bathroom when the sound of a baby crying stopped him in his tracks.

Frowning, Dominic turned and listened. It seemed to be coming from the front living room.

The television?

Not the television, he decided when the cries came again. Too loud. And too…real.

An appalling possibility popped into his mind.

Surely not, he thought. She wouldn’t dare!

But then the baby cried again and he knew she had.

Whirling, he flew back down the stairs and over to the doorway of the room in question, disbelief and fury sending his blood pressure sky-high.

And there she was, large as life, wheeling a pram up and down on the polished wooden floor, singing very softly as she did so.

Dominic had opened his mouth to let her have it when she abruptly stopped the singing, and the wheeling. When she bent over to inspect the suddenly silent contents of the pram, the sight of those already tight white pants pulling even tighter across her extremely attractive derrière made him almost forget how angry he was for a moment.

But only for a moment.

‘Hey, you there!’ he boomed out.

She spun round, her dark hair flying out in a shining halo before settling more sedately on her slender shoulders. Her dark eyes flashed with extreme irritation as she hurried over, her fingers pressed to her lips.

‘Hush up, for pity’s sake,’ she hissed. ‘I’ve had the devil of a time getting her off to sleep. I think it’s the strange house. Normally she goes off like clockwork after her bottle.’

Before he could say another word, she put a firm hand on his chest and pushed him backwards into the hallway, after which she carefully closed the door behind them, as though this whole scenario was perfectly normal and reasonable.

Dominic could only shake his head in amazement. Not a con-woman, he decided in total exasperation. A fool! A deliciously attractive fool, but a fool nevertheless!

‘I don’t know what you’ve told my mother,’ he muttered, ‘but you’ve got the wrong man. I am not the father of your baby.’

‘Keep your shirt on, Mr Hunter. I never said you were.’

Instant bewilderment scrambled his brains. ‘Huh?’ was all he could manage.

‘You can’t be the father of my baby because I don’t have one,’ she explained, as though he were an idiot. ‘I should have told you in your office but I simply didn’t think. Bonnie belongs to Sarah.’

‘Sarah?’ he repeated blankly.

The brunette gave him a very droll look. ‘I hope you’re not going to tell me you don’t know Sarah, either. Sarah Palmer,’ she repeated coldly. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, she was your secretary for several months last year, Mr Hunter, during which time you had an affair with her.’

Shock held Dominic speechless for a split second. But then anger swept back in. If Sarah thought she was going to pin the paternity of a baby on him on the strength of that one night, then she could think again!

‘Sarah was my secretary, I admit,’ he ground out. ‘But we did not have an affair!’

The brunette folded her arms and practically rolled her eyes at him. ‘Oh, come now, Mr Hunter. I didn’t come down in the last shower. I know exactly what happened between you and Sarah. How you can stand there and deny having slept with her is beyond me!’

‘I don’t deny having slept with her,’ he bit out. ‘But it was only the once and I used protection. I repeat, I am not the father of that baby, or any other baby. As I said to you before, honey, you’ve got the wrong man.’

She actually smiled at him, an icy smile which set his teeth on edge. ‘You are Dominic Hunter, the head of Hunter & Associates, aren’t you?’

‘You know damned well I am.’

‘Then I’ve got the right man. But if you insist on a DNA test, I won’t object.’

‘A DNA test!’ he exploded. ‘I’m not having any damned DNA test!’

‘Oh, yes, you are, Dominic.’

Dominic spun round to find his mother eyeing him with one of those stern looks which spelt her complete unwillingness to be persuaded otherwise. He knew because he’d seen that look many times during his lifetime. He groaned, then sighed his resignation to the inevitable. If he didn’t succumb to a DNA test his life was going to be hell!

Still, once he’d calmed down a little, Dominic realised it was probably a good idea to have the test done. What better way to back his denial of paternity than with irretrievable scientific proof?

‘Very well,’ he agreed, with a return to composure, and both women looked surprised, even the dark-eyed brunette.

Who in hell was she? he began wondering. And what was she to Sarah? Her sister, perhaps?

He stared at her, thinking she looked nothing like Sarah at all. ‘So tell me, Miss Know-it-all, why didn’t Sarah come and see me in person about this baby of hers? Why send someone else in her place? Don’t tell me it’s because she’s afraid of me because I won’t believe that.’

Dominic was taken aback when those coal-black eyes, which till now had held such cynicism and contempt for him, suddenly shimmered with tears. When his mother walked over and put a comforting arm around the girl’s shoulders, the penny dropped.

Sarah was dead.

That beautiful, sweet, lovely girl was dead.

His heart squeezed tight, and he wondered how she’d died. In childbirth, perhaps? But surely that kind of thing didn’t happen these days.

‘Sarah was killed in a road accident a couple of weeks ago,’ his mother explained before he could ask, her own eyes reproachful towards him. ‘She stepped out in front of a bus and was critically injured. Witnesses said she seemed to be daydreaming. Sarah didn’t have any close relatives so she made Tina Bonnie’s legal guardian. They were best friends. Tina’s come here today to see if we’ll help raise the child.’

‘That’s all very sad,’ Dominic said. ‘And I’d be glad to give Tina some money, if that will help out. But, Mum, I am not Sarah’s baby’s father.’

His mother nodded. ‘I appreciate you probably believe that, son. It explains your otherwise appalling behaviour. But Tina says Sarah told her you were the father for certain. She also said Sarah came to you and told you about her pregnancy when she was just a few weeks along. You denied you were the father back then, but gave her some money for a termination.’

‘But that’s just not true!’ Dominic denied, truly shocked. ‘If Sarah told you this, then she lied,’ he directed forcibly at the brunette, who seemed to have swiftly recovered from the threat of tears to look at him coldly once more, her mouth pursed with scorn. ‘I swear to you, I knew nothing of Sarah’s pregnancy. Neither did she come and see me about it.’

The brunette’s already disapproving lips curled over in even more derision. ‘Sarah didn’t tell lies.’

‘Oh, for pity’s sake, everyone tells lies!’ he snapped.

‘Do they indeed?’

Her sarcasm stung, as did her ongoing scepticism. She didn’t believe a word he’d said. Dominic wasn’t used to having his credibility doubted, and he didn’t like it one bit.

He glared into those hard black eyes of hers, but they held his easily, and scornfully. Suddenly, he was overwhelmed by the most amazingly strong feeling, a mad compulsion to make her believe him, to take her in his arms and kiss that contemptuous mouth of hers till she melted against him, till she was all soft and compliant, till she was incapable of disbelieving, or denying him anything.

His head whirled with the dark intensity of his desires, his hands actually twitching with the urge to grab her right then and there. If his mother hadn’t been standing guard he might actually have done so.

The realisation stunned him. For he wasn’t that kind of man. Not normally.

Shaken at such an uncharacteristic loss of control, he curled his wayward fingers into fists and jammed them into his trouser pockets, only to discover to his horror that he was partially aroused.

He could not believe it. Never in his life had a woman got under his skin like this. He was torn between a black fury and an even blacker frustration. The more he tried to will his flesh into subsidence, the harder it became. Finally, he whipped his hands out of his pockets and did up the buttons on his suit jacket, at the same time drawing himself up tall in an outer display of dignity.

The irony of his actions was not lost on him, but be damned if he was going to risk being humiliated in front of this female.

‘You actually believe all this rubbish?’ he demanded of his mother, looking for distraction in argument.

‘Tina showed me a photograph of Sarah,’ she replied coolly. ‘She’s one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen.’

‘Meaning I wouldn’t have been able to resist her, is that it?’

‘Most men couldn’t, Mr Hunter,’ the object of his torment piped up. ‘Especially when Sarah imagined herself in love with them. She confessed to me she was in love with you last October, not long before Bonnie must have been conceived. When Sarah was in love with a man, there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for them.’

Not like you, Dominic thought as he glared at her scorn-filled face. You would never be any man’s slave.

Which only made him want her all the more.

The discovery of where this over-the-top and stunningly uncontrollable desire was coming from was little comfort to Dominic. His flesh remained stubbornly resistant to reasoning.

Okay, so he’d always liked a sexual challenge in a woman, but this was ridiculous. This woman despised him. It was extremely perverse to desire someone who was making it blatantly obvious he would be the last man on earth she’d go to bed with.

‘I repeat,’ he stated forcibly. ‘I only slept with Sarah the once. And I used protection. It was the last night of her employ as my secretary. Her boyfriend had just gone off with some other woman and Sarah was very upset.’

‘So you comforted her,’ Tina said, the most blistering sarcasm in her tone.

His eyes clashed with her coldly cynical gaze, and again, something happened within him. Something deep and dark and even more dangerous. For this time he could not even control his thoughts.

One day, madam, he vowed hotly, I’ll make you look at me differently to that. One day you’ll give me fire, not ice. One day!

The moment of mental madness was over as quickly as it had come. But it still rattled Dominic, for it betrayed a lack of control previously unknown to his character.

He really had to get a grip on this situation.

And his body.

Or was it his mind playing havoc with him?

No, no, not his mind. This woman.

‘Something like that,’ he grated out.

‘Condoms have been known to fail, you know,’ she challenged tartly.

‘Not the ones I buy.’

Her eyebrows lifted. Wickedly mocking, taunting eyebrows. ‘I know of no such infallible brand.’

Neither did Dominic. But he was not going to give an inch where this woman was concerned.

‘When and where can I take this test?’ he asked, determined to have done with this appalling scenario as quickly as possible.

‘I’ve rung the doctor,’ his mother informed him. ‘He said if you and Bonnie come in first thing on Monday morning, he’ll take the required blood tests and have them sent off straight away. But, given it’s not an urgent criminal case, the results might take anything up to a couple of weeks.’

‘Surely they can do it quicker than that!’

‘You can ask, I suppose. But I doubt it will make any difference. Apparently there’s a bit of a backlog, due to increased demand for DNA tests, and they only give priority to real emergencies. Police work and such. Meanwhile, I’ve asked Tina and Bonnie to stay here with us. She’s been working and living in Melbourne this past year and doesn’t have anywhere decent to stay in Sydney other than the little bedsit Sarah was renting.’

‘I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Mum,’ Dominic said firmly, gratified that he didn’t sound as panic-stricken as he felt at this development.

‘Why not?’

‘For one thing, you’ll grow attached to that baby in two weeks. How do you think you’re going to feel when you find out she’s not your granddaughter?’

She gave him a disturbingly smug look, as though she had some secret knowledge he wasn’t privy to. ‘I’ll cope, if and when that happens. What other objections do you have?’

‘I don’t like to be pedantic, but you really know nothing about this woman, here, except what she’s told you. For all you know, that baby in there could be anyone!’

Actually, this thought hadn’t occurred to him before, but now that it had, he ran with it.

‘And so could she!’ he said, jabbing a finger towards the brunette. ‘To invite a stranger into our home without checking her story with independent sources is not only naive, but downright stupid!’

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