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would never have children. She continued to stare at the picture as her eyes clouded. Much as she longed to be a mother one day, she would never trust herself or any children to one man. Marriage, commitment, faithfulness, they just didn’t work in the real world, and all children should have two parents who were devoted to them and who loved each other too. A couple of her friends who were disillusioned with men had made the decision to become single mothers, but that wasn’t for her either. She had been brought up by a single parent—her father—and she knew he would be the first to say it was not ideal.

      But she would make a good life for herself—she was making a good life for herself. She twisted in the bed, suddenly irritated with the way her thoughts had gone. She had her home and a great job, and she intended to develop her career and take it as far as she could. In a few years junior partner, and eventually rising right up the ladder. The declaration didn’t hold the same thrill it usually did.

      ‘Coffee.’ She spoke out loud, flinging back the covers and leaping out of bed. ‘Coffee and toast and a long read of the paper.’ A leisurely start to the day was her weekend treat to herself after the mad scramble of Monday to Friday.

      She was on her second cup of coffee, curled up on one of the sofas in the sitting room, when the telephone rang at her elbow. She lifted the receiver automatically, still reading.

      ‘Liberty?’ The deep, rich voice brought her jerking upwards with dire consequences. It was fortunate the coffee had had a chance to cool down a little because most of it ended up in her lap. ‘It’s Carter.’

      He’d reconsidered. He was going to cancel their date and she really couldn’t blame him, she thought feverishly, mopping at her silk pyjamas with a handkerchief she’d had in her pocket. It was a moment or two before she managed a breathless, ‘Yes?’

      There followed a longish pause. ‘Are you alone?’ he asked abruptly, his voice a shade cooler.

      ‘What?’ She stared at the phone in surprise.

      ‘I said, are you alone?’ he repeated impatiently.

      ‘It’s nine o’clock in the morning,’ she said bewilderedly. ‘Of course I’m alone.’

      ‘You sound…different.’

      So would you if you’d had half a cup of coffee in a sensitive place. She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve only just woken up,’ she said, stretching a point. There was no way she was going to tell him about the coffee. And then, as the implication behind his words dawned, she snapped, ‘And what do you mean by asking me if I’m alone anyway? Who on earth did you think was here?’

      She could almost picture him shrug as he said mildly, ‘I’ve no idea, Liberty. You’re a single woman; you’re entitled to have anyone in your home.’

      ‘Look, Carter, let’s get one thing straight,’ she said sharply. ‘I’m not into one-night stands or anything else of that nature if it comes to that. I sleep alone, okay? Always.’

      ‘Always?’

      ‘Always.’ She could almost see the disbelief on his face.

      ‘Right.’ The briefest of pauses and then, ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ he said flatly.

      He didn’t actually sound very pleased. Suddenly she felt better. Put a spoke into his plans for this evening, had she? What a shame. Was he getting a glimmer that the big seduction scene wouldn’t cut any ice with her? ‘So? Why are you calling?’ she asked forthrightly. ‘Remembered you’re busy elsewhere tonight? Urgent business of some kind, is it?’

      ‘Don’t be silly,’ he said without finesse.

      Liberty blinked. Charming.

      ‘And don’t be so defensive,’ he added more softly.

      ‘I’m not defensive,’ she said defensively before biting her lip hard. Irritating man. Always had to be right.

      ‘I’m ringing to see if you’re free this afternoon as well as this evening, actually,’ he went on. ‘And, before you come up with a whole lot of excuses, I’ve suddenly acquired two tickets for a matinée in the West End.’

      He mentioned a show she had been dying to see for ages but which was booked solid for months, and Liberty stared at the phone as though it was at fault. It would have to be something she just couldn’t refuse, wouldn’t it. ‘That sounds nice,’ she said carefully. ‘If you’re sure you don’t want to take someone else.’

      ‘Don’t get too excited.’ It was mordant. ‘I’ll pick you up at one o’clock.’

      He didn’t even give her a chance to say goodbye before he put the phone down.

      She changed three times before one o’clock, but when the doorbell sounded and she gave a final glance in the mirror she was satisfied the alpaca tweed coat worn over a cashmere ivory polo-neck minidress would do for both the theatre and the restaurant later. And the dress had always particularly suited her.

      She was wearing the minimum of make-up, just a dusting of ivory eyeshadow to highlight her eyes and a little mascara, and she had decided to pull her hair back into a knot on top of her head. It was a somewhat severe hairstyle for the weekend but somehow she felt it sent a message after their earlier conversation, a re-emphasis that she was not up for grabs. She wrinkled her nose at herself. If he could have women like Carmen on his arm she really didn’t know why he was bothering with her in the first place. Perhaps his intentions were strictly honourable and above board, but just in case…

      ‘Hi.’ He presented her with a bunch of flowers as she opened the door, bending closer to her, and she smelled the faint scent of sharp lemony aftershave. It was a very male smell and frighteningly seductive. The big body was clothed in charcoal trousers and a black leather jacket and was even more seductive. She tried very hard not to think about that.

      ‘Hello.’ She took the flowers and then realised they meant she had to ask him in. ‘Take a seat for a moment while I put these in water, and—’ belatedly she remembered her manners ‘—thank you,’ she added a little stiffly.

      He looked all shoulders and muscle and endless legs, and he grinned at her. She had noticed before how his smile mellowed the hard planes and valleys of his strong face, and his voice was smokier than ever when he said, ‘My pleasure,’ before glancing around. ‘This is nice,’ he said appreciatively. ‘Have you lived here long?’

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