LITMIR.BIZ

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neckline stopped just short of showing any cleavage, the wide, softly frilled collar very feminine. The hem finished well above her knee on one side and dipped down almost to mid-calf on the other, as was the fashion this year. The print on the pale cream material was floral, the flowers small and well-spaced, their colours ranging from the palest pink to a deep plum, her favourite colour. She’d matched the dress with open-toed cream high heels and a plum handbag. Her lipstick and nail-polish were plum as well. Strong colours suited her, with her olive skin and dark hair and eyes.

      Her hair—which had been up and down several times so far this morning—was finally down, its natural wave and curl having been tamed somewhat with a ruthless blowdrying, but it still kicked up on the ends. Shoulder-blade-length, it was parted on one side and looped behind her ears to show her gold and pearl drops. A gold chain with a single gold and pearl pendant adorned her neck. The floral scents of her perfume, an extravagant one she’d bought during her last shopping trip to Sydney, was only just detectable on her skin. Angelina didn’t like it when a woman’s perfume preceded her into a room like a tidal wave.

      She stroked the figure-hugging dress down over her hips before turning round and looking over her shoulder at her back view. Her scowl soon became a shrug. Nothing she could do about her Italian lower half. She had wide hips and a big bottom, and that was all there was to it.

      Angelina turned back and looked with more approval at her front view. At least she had the breasts to go with the backside. They were a definite plus. Just as well, however, that her nipples were hidden by the wideness of the collar, because she could feel them now, pressing against the satiny confines of her underwired bra, making her hotly aware of how excited she was. How incredibly, appallingly excited.

      A small moan escaped her lips, Angelina stuffing a closed fist into her mouth and biting on her knuckles in an effort to get some control over her silly self. But she was fighting a losing battle. The truth was she was dying to see Jake again. She wanted to see that look in his eyes once more, the one which made her feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.

      Oh, she knew that he’d probably looked at a hundred different girls that way over the years. There were no end of lovely-looking girls here in Sydney, model-slim girls with more sophistication and style than she had. But no matter. She could pretend she was the only one, just for one miserable lunch.

      Surely there was no harm in that. Lunch was safe. They wouldn’t really be alone. Impossible for him to get to her sexually during lunch, no matter what his secret agenda might be. Sharing a meal was also a good opportunity to find out more about him.

      Her eyes went to her wrist-watch. It was ten-past ten, still almost two hours to go before noon. The minutes were dragging, but then, she’d been up since dawn.

      She hadn’t slept well, and she couldn’t even blame the hotel bed. She hadn’t slept well all week, her mind never giving her any peace. She’d been tormented by regrets and recriminations.

      Of course, in hindsight, she should have told Jake about Alex straight away last Saturday when he’d come back to the restaurant. And she shouldn’t have begun that silly charade, letting Jake think Alex was her boyfriend. No, not boyfriend. Lover. It had only made Jake even more determined, it seemed, to win her. She’d become a challenge.

      By Friday her nerves had been so bad that she hadn’t felt capable of driving down to Sydney, let alone coping with the inner-city traffic. Whenever she came down to visit Alex at weekends, she always stayed at the Rydges Hotel in North Sydney, which was near his school. There was never any need for her to drive over the Harbour Bridge. If she wanted to go shopping in the city during her weekend trips down, she caught the train over the bridge. She never attempted to drive. For a country-raised girl, driving in that congestion would be a nightmare.

      But getting to the expo, and the Star City hotel, would require her to go over the bridge and negotiate all those confusing lanes that went off in myriad different directions. Her father had brought her down to a show at the Star City theatre last year, and even he’d taken a wrong turn. Much easier to catch the train down and get a cab from Central. Much easier to come down on the Friday, too, rather than wait till the Saturday morning.

      Arnold had kindly driven her into the station yesterday morning and she’d arrived in Sydney just after two, giving her enough time after booking in at the hotel to go for a walk and locate where the weekend expo was being held. It was down on a nearby wharf, in a building that had once housed the old casino.

      The finishing touches on the Ambrosia Estate booth were being made when she arrived and she’d been very impressed. It looked like a little piece of Italy, with vines climbing over a mock-pergola, from which hung big bunches of grapes—not real but very lifelike. The right side of the booth was dedicated to white wines, with the red wines on the left. Each side would have its own team of pretty female demonstrators for wine-tasting, she’d been informed by the man running the show. Cheese would be offered with the reds, slices of fruit with the drier whites, and exotic sweets with the dessert wines.

      The only negative during her inspection tour was this man himself. He was a typical salesman. Thirtyish and suavely handsome with a moustache and goatee beard, he just couldn’t help flirting with her. Not too strong for a first meeting. But Angelina had had plenty to do with salesmen at the resort, and she knew as sure as the sun was already up and shining that morning that today would be a different story. Today, he was going to come on much stronger. Today, he was going to be hands-on.

      Which created a dilemma for Angelina. She didn’t want to encourage the guy by turning up again today. At the same time, she didn’t want Jake to think her presence wasn’t required at the expo. She needed to actually be there at the booth, doing something constructive, when Jake showed up. Which meant she’d have to leave the sanctuary of her hotel room soon and make an appearance.

      Angelina sighed. She hoped that Wayne—he must have told her his name ten times—didn’t think she’d dolled herself up for him. Yesterday she’d only been wearing jeans and a simple white shirt, and he hadn’t been able to stop eyeing her up and down.

      The telephone suddenly ringing startled Angelina. As she hurried from the bathroom, she wondered who it would be. Unlikely to be Alex. The team wasn’t allowed any outside calls during their weekend camp. The focus was to be all on swimming. Angelina had called him last night from the hotel and they’d talked for simply ages. Mostly about the expo. Alex was all for advertising their wines, unlike his grandfather, who’d been old-fashioned in his ways.

      No, it couldn’t be Alex, she thought as she crossed the hotel room and scooped up the receiver. Hopefully not the dreaded Wayne, wanting to know where she was.

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘Do you always answer the phone as if it’s bad news?’

      Jake. It was Jake. Angelina’s stomach started to swirl.

      ‘How did you know to ring me here?’ she said.

      ‘I was just talking to the chap running your booth at the expo and he mentioned you’d arrived yesterday. You yourself told me where you were staying, Angelina.’

      ‘But what are you doing at the expo this early? You said noon. It’s only just after ten.’

      ‘I didn’t want to risk not being able to find you later, so I thought I’d do a preliminary sortie. I’m glad I did. This place is a madhouse. You should see it. Which reminds me. Why aren’t you down here, selling your wares? It wouldn’t be because you don’t really need to be here, would it? You couldn’t possibly have lied to me about that too, the way you lied to me about when you would be arriving in Sydney?’

      Angelina didn’t know whether to be annoyed with him, or charmed. ‘I didn’t want you pestering me any more than necessary.’

      ‘Pestering! Wow, you really know how to take the wind out of a guy’s sails, don’t you?’

      ‘Sorry. That was a bit harsh. But you know what I mean. Is there a purpose to this call, Jake, or is it just a softening-up trick?’

      He laughed. ‘I can see I’m

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