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      “What did you think you were playing at in there?”

      “I was playing at being your fiancé?” he replied.

      “You overacted the part,” Emma accused furiously.

      “I thought I did rather well, considering the circumstances,” Frazer replied stoically.

      “Oh? And what about all those references to us sharing a bed, and that rubbish about my getting up at five to do the milking?”

      “Well, he needed putting in his place. I’m sure you could get up at 5:00 a.m. if you wanted to.” Frazer grinned. “And as for the references about us sharing a bed, I was just getting into character.” Frazer’s voice dropped to a low, intimate note. “And I wouldn’t be happy about you getting out of it too early, either.” He smiled as he noted the two high spots of color that burned on her cheeks now.

      “A little bit of subtlety wouldn’t have gone amiss.” She tried not to be sidetracked.

      “I don’t think you have much leeway to preach about subtlety. You were the woman that dropped me into the damn situation in the first place.”

      Kathryn Ross was born in Zambia, where her parents happened to live at that time. Educated in Ireland and England, she now lives in a village near Blackpool, Lancashire. Kathryn is a professional beauty therapist, but writing is her first love. As a child she wrote adventure stories, and at thirteen was editor of her school magazine. Happily, ten writing years later, Designed with Love was accepted by Harlequin. A romantic Sagittarian, she loves traveling to exotic locations.

      About the author:

      Kathryn Ross is a much-loved Harlequin Presents® author with a lively, intense, sophisticated writing style. She especially enjoys creating strong heroes and spirited heroines, and Romantic Times has praised the way Kathryn “utilizes dynamic characterization…to give the reader a gratifying reading experience.” Her latest novel, Terms of Engagement, highlights this talent and we hope you’ll enjoy this story as much as Kathryn enjoyed writing it!

      Terms of Engagement

      Kathryn Ross

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      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 ONE

      EMMA’S eyes widened at the breathtaking absurdity of her friend’s suggestion. ‘Jonathan and I had a civilised divorce, Tori, but it would still have to be a freezing day in hell before I’d ask him for help.’

      ‘Well, it’s nearly winter, and I believe it snows a lot in Scotland; you might not have long to wait,’ Tori said brightly. ‘Personally, I’d sell that place and get back down to London and civilisation quickly.’

      ‘I don’t want to come back to London. Of course I miss you, and my other friends, but the peace and tranquillity here are just what I needed.’

      As if to prove the point to herself, Emma transferred the phone to her other hand and pulled back the curtain on the window next to her chair.

      The sun was starting to go down. Golden light reflected on the smooth waters of the loch and bathed the mountains in a mellow, misty glow, highlighting the September colours of red and gold in the patchwork of fields. Swallows were flying low over the loch, wheeling and skimming after invisible prey. Soon they would leave for the winter, but she would stay, she vowed silently.

      ‘So how is Jonathan?’ she breathed in a soft undertone, dropping the curtain back into place.

      ‘The same as ever, as far as I could tell. Mind you, I didn’t stay at the party for very long. Jonathan was the guest of honour, and as you can imagine it was hard to get to speak to him. Word had just got out that he was about to start casting for his next big movie. Apparently it’s a historical epic. People were all over him.’

      Emma could just imagine. Jonathan liked to be the centre of attention. He was a very successful film producer and he usually attracted a sycophantic crowd wherever he went.

      ‘Anyway, we spoke briefly. He asked if I’d like a small part in his new movie and I told him I’d just landed the lead role in Tom Hubert’s new film. That took the wind out of his arrogant sails.’ Tori’s laugh was the tinkling, attractive sound of pure pleasure.

      ‘He’s got good intentions, Tori,’ Emma said, impulsively defending her ex-husband. ‘Jonathan isn’t all bad.’

      ‘You know your problem, Emma? You’re too nice. Jonathan walked out on you. In my eyes that makes him a rat of the first order,’ Tori replied.

      ‘It was a mutual decision. We both agreed it was best to go our separate ways,’ Emma insisted firmly, then quickly moved on. ‘So, what else did he say?’ She didn’t want to talk about her marriage break-up; even after two years it was still a raw subject.

      ‘Just that he was looking for some wild and moody location for his film. Somewhere—and I quote—“atmospheric. A moor, a loch and an old baronial hall haunted with atmosphere.”’

      Emma’s eyes widened. ‘That’s exactly how I described this place to you when we spoke on the phone last time.’

      ‘I know. It was as if destiny had just intervened in your life.’

      Emma smiled. Tori could be very dramatic, but then she was an actress.

      ‘So I couldn’t resist, Emma. I had to tell him all about your mysterious uncle who died and left you his estate in Scotland.’

      ‘You didn’t tell him he’d left me his debts and that the place was practically falling down around me, did you?’

      ‘No, of course not. I told him his description matched the one you had given me of your property. That you had been living up there for a month and that you were in love with the place. I gushed positively over everything in your life, darling, I really did. You’d have loved it.’

      Emma wasn’t so sure about that. ‘What was his reaction?’ she asked cautiously.

      ‘He’d already heard a rumour that you’d left London…’ Tori hesitated. ‘Actually he said, “I give her a month before she’s running back to the city. She’s the type to get withdrawal symptoms when she leaves the five-mile radius of the beauty counters at Knightsbridge.”’

      Emma’s hands balled into tight fists at her side. How dared he say something so

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