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choice on how private they choose to be about their lives.’

      Maggie nodded, stepping to the desk. ‘And how’d that new client go? The one where the father wanted you to give the bloke a hand?’

      Tara took the cup from her, shaking her head. ‘It was a no go.’

      ‘Better luck next time, yeah?’ Maggie chirped, spun on her heel and strode to the door. ‘At least you have Mr Faulkner.’

      When Mr Steel had turned up at her office Tara had been more than surprised. The patriarch of social circles in Sydney on her doorstep? It had been a shock. It was unreal, and very unusual for the father to be coming in, rather than the man himself.

      She leant back in her chair. Tara had hung on the man’s every word, trying to work out how the whole situation was possible. How could he know that Mr Keene was ready to propose? Or had Mr Steel just become sick of waiting for the man to get serious?

      Mr Thomas Steel didn’t seem like the sort of man that needed a lot of patience…

      Tara picked up the cup of coffee and took a sip. How did Mr Steel think that a man like Mr Keene would ever accept help? Was it just blind hope in thinking that he could encourage the guy into a commitment to his daughter?

      She felt for the man despite the wild-goose chase he’d sent her on. The way he spoke about losing his wife and being bewildered in the area of his daughter’s personal life had touched her heart. Despite not having any idea, he was determined to ensure her happiness in any way he could.

      Tara’s chest constricted. She wished her own father could have cared like this man obviously did about his daughter.

      Tara closed the folder and slid it into the drawer. It was probably a good thing that Mr Keene hadn’t agreed to her help. She wasn’t afraid of a handsome man who had it all, but she wasn’t happy with that strange feeling in the pit of her stomach when he had looked at her with his emerald green eyes.

      It scared her right down to her toes.

      CHAPTER THREE

      TARA picked the phone up with one hand, still typing in the last figure of the week’s expenses into the computer. ‘Tara Andrews.’

      ‘Tara, Steel here, returning your call,’ he said easily. ‘How did you go?’

      The man himself. She sucked in her breath. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Steel, but Mr Keene is quite happy to handle his own plans.’

      ‘He is?’

      ‘He was quite adamant.’ Tara wiped the specks of dirt off the keyboard. She wished she could have given the doting father better news.

      ‘You did tell him what you could offer? That you could take care of all the details so there’d be minimum disruption to him. That virtually all he’d have to do was get down on his knee and ask the question.’

      ‘Not in not so many words.’

      ‘What’s a bit of his time to make sure that the special moment is going to be absolutely magical for my daughter?’ the man huffed.

      ‘I’m sorry, Mr Steel, but Mr Keene has made his decision. There’s nothing I can do.’

      ‘Okay. Understood.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’ve been thinking that it could be advantageous for you to meet the couple.’

      ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, sir,’ she said evenly, the thought unsettling her. The last thing she wanted was to see the man and experience that feeling again, let alone with the woman who was his soon-to-be-bride.

      ‘Of course she won’t know who you are or what you’re helping Patrick with, my dear.’

      ‘But—’ Wasn’t the man listening? Didn’t he hear that Patrick didn’t want her help?

      ‘You’ll get an idea of the sort of person she is so that you can help Patrick with his proposal.’

      She gripped the phone tightly. ‘Mr Steel, he has said no to my help. My hands are tied.’

      ‘Would you come anyway? It would mean a lot to me if you just gave him a little more time to think about it. He probably made a snap decision.’

      Tara swallowed hard. Mr Keene may have done that all right. He’d made up his mind the moment she’d introduced herself—the look in his eyes had said it all.

      She tapped her pen against her desk. Could it hurt to pander to Mr Steel? She didn’t want the man to be upset on her account. ‘I’m not making any promises,’ she said slowly. ‘If Mr Keene comes to me and asks me for my help…’

      ‘Great. Wonderful. There’s a charity dinner tonight that we’re all attending, which would be the ideal situation for you to meet him…them…us.’

      ‘Tonight?’ A knot formed deep in her stomach. ‘This is rather short notice, sir.’

      ‘If you can be there around seven. I’ll add your name to the list.’ He rattled off the address of one of Sydney’s top hotels and hung up.

      Tara stared at the phone, then at her computer screen.

      She re-positioned herself in the chair, her muscles tight, an unpleasant queasiness brewing deep in her body.

      She had to look on the bright side. Mr Steel had got what he’d wanted, for now, even though she couldn’t see that she could do anything for a man as strong and confident as Patrick Keene. No meant no.

      Tara glanced at her watch, jerking to her feet. She didn’t have time to mull over her acceptance of the invitation. She’d just have time to get ready.

      She picked up her handbag and jacket and strode to the door. She was stressing over nothing. All she would have to achieve tonight was to present a good image to Mr Steel, showing him her dedication and her commitment. So maybe when Mr Keene did get around to proposing, they’d use Camelot for the wedding.

      She only hoped that Mr Keene didn’t take her presence tonight the wrong way…his bark seemed as though it could be intense, and his bite lethal.

      Rick slipped his arm around Kasey’s shoulder and pulled her a little closer to him. It should have been second nature by now to play the role of Kasey’s boyfriend, but he still felt awkward.

      He didn’t know whether it was because Kasey was his best friend’s little sister. Or because of the lies they were perpetrating.

      At least they weren’t hurting anyone.

      Rick glanced at Steel. And it was about time that Kasey scored a few points of her own.

      He smiled, trying to look casual, trying to look like he was enjoying being here with Kasey and her father. The only good here tonight was the chance to support the children’s hospital.

      The charity event was a full-on affair complete with a thirty-piece orchestra, ice sculptures and caviare. All the stops had been pulled out to woo the rich into delving deep into their pockets for the kids.

      He’d never needed any encouragement.

      Kasey elbowed him in the ribs. ‘Lighten up, Rick.’

      ‘I’m trying.’ Rick looked down into Kasey’s face, pretty and painted, soft and round, her hair all pulled up and elegant-looking.

      ‘Try harder.’

      Rick hadn’t told Kasey about the proposal planner idea her father had come up with. It was hardly worth mentioning since he’d taken care of it. She probably would have chucked a fit at her father’s interference, again.

      What had possessed the man to come up with the crack-pot scheme? Help with proposing…He could do it with his eyes shut, if he cared to.

      Sure, he hadn’t thought of what he’d say to a woman, but it wasn’t like he’d come close to wanting to.

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