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       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.

      Living with Adam

      Anne Mather

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

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      Table of Contents

       Cover

       About the Author

       Title Page

       CHAPTER ONE

       CHAPTER TWO

       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       Copyright

       CHAPTER ONE

      DR ADAM MASSEY brought his car to a halt outside the tall, narrow Georgian façade of the fashionable Chelsea town house that Loren liked to call her pied-à-terre. Looking thoughtfully up at the windows, Adam wondered how she would take the news he had to impart, and knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would not like it. But then he didn’t particularly care for the idea himself.

      He compressed his lips wryly and turning off the engine he put the ignition keys into his pocket. As he slid almost reluctantly out of the car he was conscious that he was simply delaying the inevitable, and with an impatient shrug of his broad shoulders he locked the car door and, turning, ran swiftly up the stone steps of the house. Inserting his key in the lock, he entered the softly carpeted hallway, and encountered Alice, Loren’s invaluable maidservant who had been with her for more years than she cared to remember. Alice smiled, and said:

      ‘Oh, it’s you, doctor. I thought it was another of those reporters! Cheek of the devil they have.’

      Adam frowned and glanced at his watch. ‘Damn,’ he exclaimed. ‘I’d forgotten. It was the press conference this afternoon, wasn’t it? Are Mannering and Edwards still here?’

      ‘Mr Mannering’s gone, but Mr Edwards is still here,’ Alice informed him. ‘It’s almost finished, anyway. I’m sure Miss Griffiths would be only too pleased to send them away if she knew you were here.’

      Adam gave a rather dry smile. ‘You’re very good for my ego, Alice,’ he said, with feeling. ‘However, I really don’t think I ought to interrupt her while she’s working—’

      ‘Darling!’

      The voice came from above, drifting down to them huskily, and both Adam and the housekeeper looked up to see Loren Griffiths poised at the head of the flight of stairs which led down into the hall. Dressed in a clinging gown of some dusky pink material that clung to her small, supple form, her blonde hair swinging silkily to her shoulders, she was quite startlingly beautiful, and Adam thrust his hands patiently into his trousers pockets, quite aware that Loren was about to make an entrance. She came down the stairs with her usual elegance, but there was a certain eagerness in her step which quickened as she neared him and presently she was sliding both her arms

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