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      Mills & Boon is proud to present a fabulous

      collection of fantastic novels by

      bestselling, much loved author

      ANNE MATHER

      Anne has a stellar record of achievement within the

      publishing industry, having written over one hundred

      and sixty books, with worldwide sales of more than

      forty-eight MILLION copies in multiple languages.

      This amazing collection of classic stories offers a chance

      for readers to recapture the pleasure Anne’s powerful,

      passionate writing has given.

      We are sure you will love them all!

      I’ve always wanted to write—which is not to say I’ve always wanted to be a professional writer. On the contrary, for years I only wrote for my own pleasure and it wasn’t until my husband suggested sending one of my stories to a publisher that we put several publishers’ names into a hat and pulled one out. The rest, as they say, is history. And now, one hundred and sixty-two books later, I’m literally—excuse the pun— staggered by what’s happened.

      I had written all through my infant and junior years and on into my teens, the stories changing from children’s adventures to torrid gypsy passions. My mother used to gather these manuscripts up from time to time, when my bedroom became too untidy, and dispose of them! In those days, I used not to finish any of the stories and Caroline, my first published novel, was the first I’d ever completed. I was newly married then and my daughter was just a baby, and it was quite a job juggling my household chores and scribbling away in exercise books every chance I got. Not very professional, as you can imagine, but that’s the way it was.

      These days, I have a bit more time to devote to my work, but that first love of writing has never changed. I can’t imagine not having a current book on the typewriter—yes, it’s my husband who transcribes everything on to the computer. He’s my partner in both life and work and I depend on his good sense more than I care to admit.

      We have two grown-up children, a son and a daughter, and two almost grown-up grandchildren, Abi and Ben. My e-mail address is [email protected] and I’d be happy to hear from any of my wonderful readers.

      A Distant Sound of Thunder

      Anne Mather

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      Table of Contents

       Cover

       About the Author

       Title Page

       CHAPTER TWO

       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       PART TWO

       CHAPTER ONE

       CHAPTER TWO

       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       Copyright

PART ONE

       CHAPTER ONE

      THE velvet dusk of evening was spreading its cloak over the island, stilling the chattering minah birds and dimming the brilliance of the exotic frangipani and flame trees. A welcome, cooling breeze sprang up as the sun sank below the tangled web of the jungle behind the villa, pushing probing fingers against Rebecca’s hot forehead as she emerged from her patient’s room and closed the door thankfully. The humidity throughout the long day had been exhausting and not even the air-conditioning could cope entirely with the damp heat. Rebecca ran a weary hand through the thick silky fairness of the curls on her brow and longed for the luxury of the shower she would soon be taking. Adele had been particularly trying today, but she was asleep now and for a few hours her time was her own.

      As she passed along the terrazzo tiling of the hall she glanced automatically towards the wide windows which in daylight gave a magnificent view of the lush green grass which was all that separated the villa from the palm-fringed reaches of the beach. Beyond the stretch of silvery coral sand surged the brilliant waters of the Pacific and Rebecca never tired of marvelling at the natural beauty of her surroundings. It was worth the humidity, the persistent hum of insects, the sometimes nauseating aroma of drying copra, and even Adele’s often cruel contentiousness.

      Now she made her way to her room and stripping off her uniform and underclothing she went into the adjoining bathroom. The chill of the water took her breath away as she twisted and turned beneath the shower and she gasped pleasurably. She was vigorously towelling herself dry when the doorbell chimed.

      At once she stopped what she was doing and frowned. What an annoying thing to have happened! It was the servants’ night off and she was alone in the villa, apart from the sleeping Adele, of course, and she would not remain sleeping long if whoever it was who was calling persisted in

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