LITMIR.BIZ

      TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON

       AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG

       STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID

       PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND

      To Ruth and Graham—I feel so blessed to

       know you both—and Jean, who loved to

       read romance. I miss you still

      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 ONE

      ‘FAT lot of good you did me!’ Disparagingly, Sabrina Kendricks glared at herself in the tailored burgundy suit she’d splashed a couple of hundred pounds she couldn’t afford on, and knew she’d have to be clean out of every piece of clothing she possessed before she could bring herself to ever wear it again. Dressing to impress had sadly failed to have the desired effect on Richard Weedy—the pompous, halitosis-afflicted excuse for a bank manager whom she had met less than an hour ago. Weedy of stature and weedy by nature as far as Sabrina’s assessment was concerned. Spineless, in fact.

      ‘You’re not a good risk, Miss Kendricks,’ he’d whined. Not a good risk? She’d run East-West Travel for fifteen years now, so what was he talking about? What did he want—a cast-iron guarantee? Business was all about taking risks, surely? Good job she didn’t have a cat because right now she’d kick it.

      Instead, she padded into the kitchen in her stockinged feet and peered hopefully into what she already knew was an empty fridge. Empty because she hadn’t had time to shop, and because food seemed to be low down on her list of priorities when she was in dire need of some proper investment to bring her small company in line with twenty-first-century technology. The mere thought of the task that lay ahead haunted her into the early hours. She wasn’t going to let the business she’d worked so hard to establish get swallowed up by the big boys who were currently monopolising the travel industry.

      Thinking back on her recent interview, she wondered if she’d come across as too hopeful or just simply desperate? She made a face at the bereft shelves, slammed the door shut and went across to the sink to pour herself a glass of water instead. She thought she’d pitched it just right, but maybe her smile had been too forced? Maybe the way she’d pinned back her hair had been too severe? Maybe Moroccan-red lipstick had come across as somehow intimidating? And maybe Richard Weedy just had a thing about pushy career-woman types, as her mother referred to women who didn’t permanently wander round the house with a pinny on and a duster in their hands.

      Thinking about her mother gave Sabrina indigestion and made her realise that not a morsel of food had passed her lips since six-thirty yesterday evening. It was now just after eleven-thirty in the morning and she was beginning to feel quite nauseous. Maybe it was time to change her bank? Could she do that? One thing was certain, no pinch-faced, patronising, woman-resenting bank manager was going to stop her from making East-West Travel the unalloyed success she knew it could be. She’d sell every pair of shoes she owned and go barefoot before she let that happen.