LITMIR.BIZ

      CHAPTER ONE

      ‘WELL, young lady, we’re certainly all looking forward to hearing your presentation this afternoon.’

      The grey-haired chairman of one of the largest corporate businesses in America smiled down at the slim blonde girl standing beside him. ‘I understand that you are intending to tell us all about the European Bond Market,’ he added with a distinct twinkle in his eye.

      ‘Well... er...’ Samantha Thomas cleared her throat nervously, desperately trying to think of what to say to this well-known and highly distinguished man, who quite obviously knew far more about the subject than she did.

      What on earth was she doing here, in New York? she asked herself, feeling sick with nerves as she tried to control the small coffee cup and saucer from rattling in her trembling hands.

      How could she have been such an idiot as to even think of agreeing to give a keynote speech at this financial seminar? Especially when she ought to have known that it would be attended by so many high-powered bankers and economists—all of whom were obviously far more intelligent and successful than she could ever hope to be.

      However, as if able to read her mind, the elderly businessman gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder.

      ‘When you’ve been in the job as long as I have,’ he said, ‘you’ll realise that no one is so smart—or so clever—that he or she can’t learn something new, every day. So, don’t worry. I’m sure that you’ll do just fine,’ he added with an encouraging smile, before his attention was claimed by a group of corporate tax lawyers on the other side of the small ante-room.

      Allowing a passing waiter to pour her another cup of strong coffee, Samantha made a determined effort to pull herself together. After all, she would never have been asked to speak at this prestigious conference if the organisers had felt she was likely to make a fool of herself. And besides, she was now in charge of her own team, in the UK pension fund department at Minerva Utilities Management, in London. Right? All the same...

      Her gloomy, nervous thoughts were interrupted as she heard her name being called out by Candy, one of the assistants to the conference organiser, as she quickly wove her way towards Samantha through the crowd of people.

      ‘I’m so sorry that I had to rush off halfway through lunch!’ Candy exclaimed hurriedly. ‘Unfortunately, there’s been a bit of a problem with this afternoon’s seminar. The person who was supposed to be introducing your talk was taken ill late last night. So, my boss has been on the phone all morning, trying to find a replacement. However... it’s been sorted out now. And it’s all thanks to you,’ Candy added with a laugh. ‘You certainly seem to have some friends in high places!’

      Feeling slightly bewildered by the rapid, breathless flow of words, Samantha struggled to make sense of what the other girl had been saying.

      ‘I don’t understand... What “friends in high places”? I hardly know anyone in New York.’

      ‘Oh, yeah? That’s not what I hear!’ Candy grinned. ‘So, what is it with you and the glamorous Mr Matthew Warner?’

      ‘Mr Matthew Warner?’ Sam echoed blankly, her brain in a complete daze for a moment as she stared open-mouthed at the dark-haired girl standing beside her. ‘Well... yes, I did once know someone of that name. But... but that was in England. And a very, very long time ago. I’m sorry, but I think... well, I really think you must be mistaken.’

      ‘Oh, really?’ Candy grinned again. ‘Well, it seems that Mr Warner certainly remembers you. In fact, he was categorically refusing to help us out until my boss faxed over your CV to his office. And then, what do you know? Hey Presto! His personal assistant phones to say that he’d be delighted to chair the meeting—and to renew his acquaintance with an old friend.’

      Samantha’s head was still spinning as the other girl gave her a quick dig in the ribs.

      ‘Uh-huh! Look—there he is. Standing by the door, on the other side of the room,’ Candy muttered out of the side of her mouth. ‘And if you have managed to forget such a gorgeous man—I reckon you must need your head examined!’ she added with a muffled laugh. ‘Not only tall, dark, handsome and incredibly rich—but also, I hear on the grapevine, currently unattached. What more could any girl ask for in her Christmas stocking?’

      ‘It’s

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