LITMIR.BIZ

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Marybeth’s voice was full of concern. ‘I’ve never seen you like this before, not in all the years I’ve known you.’

      Slowly Emily turned around to survey her business partner, who’d been her best friend since they’d met during their final year of college. Still reeling from her mother’s sudden death, Emily had been floundering when Marybeth Miller had swooped in and taken her under her wing. She’d insisted on bringing Emily back for weekends at her family’s rambling farmhouse in north Devon, where Emily had come into contact with the kind of noisy, good-hearted atmosphere she’d never known before. It had been her first experience of teasing siblings and walking for miles in the fresh country air before sitting down to eat enormous hunks of home-made cake, and it had helped her come to terms with her bereavement, though that hadn’t been easy.

      Her pain had been compounded by other feelings: by guilt and regret—but especially guilt. She kept wondering if she could have done something to stop her mother’s inevitable decline. If she could maybe have stopped her taking tranquillisers or shown her that there was a life worth living, even as a divorcee. But alongside the guilt had come a rush of something else and Emily hadn’t been able to shake off her relief that she was now liberated from all the emotional trauma of her mother’s life. She wondered if it had been that liberation which had prompted her to mail Alejandro a letter, apologising for everything that had happened and offering a cautious olive branch, suggesting that if he was playing in England any time soon, then perhaps they could meet up for a drink. But he hadn’t even bothered to reply. And maybe part of her couldn’t blame him. Did she really imagine that the proud Argentinian would share a cocktail with her after she’d dumped him so brutally?

      ‘I mean, look at you now—you’re miles away!’ Marybeth was staring at Emily in bemusement. ‘And you’ve got this look on your face, like...’

      ‘Like what?’ Emily prompted curiously.

      ‘You’re all wired,’ said her friend. ‘As if someone’s turned on a light inside you and you’ve suddenly come alive. Yet you look scared, too. As if something’s waiting just around the corner for you and you don’t like what it is.’ She paused. ‘You know, you don’t have to accept this job from this guy Alejandro Sabato.’

      Emily gave a hollow laugh. ‘What, and turn down the best money and exposure we’ve ever been offered just because I once stupidly had sex with him?’

      Marybeth looked shocked—probably because Emily was never usually that frank. Or maybe it was because she’d lived like a nun for so long that her partner thought she was still a virgin.

      ‘Is that what happened?’ Marybeth questioned. ‘I mean, I guessed there had been someone.’

      Emily blinked. ‘You did?’

      Marybeth shrugged. ‘Of course. You’re lovely,’ she said gently. ‘But you always clammed up when it came to talking about men and then this really sad look would come over your face, so I didn’t like to pry. And whenever you’ve dated anyone—which doesn’t happen often—nobody has come close to capturing your heart, which suggested it must have been badly broken. Is that what happened, Em—with this guy Sabato? Did he break your heart?’

      Emily hesitated as she folded another cotton shirt before adding it to the neat and sensible pile already in her suitcase. She never talked about it because it still had the power to hurt and also because she was aware of how badly she’d handled it—in fact, she couldn’t have handled it more badly if she’d tried. But maybe she should talk about it. Maybe she needed to make sense of it in her own head, so that she could deal with it competently when she came into contact with him again. ‘Alejandro was the housekeeper’s son when I lived in Argentina,’ she began slowly. ‘In the days when my mother was married to Paul Vickery.’

      ‘That’s the guy who left you the horse?’

      Emily nodded. ‘That’s the one. Cruel and calculating, but ultimately very rich—at least, he was when I was a child. My mother was completely in thrall to him, mainly because he’d rescued her from a life of poverty as a widow. My father was a fisherman who drowned off the Cornish coast, but even when he was alive, money was scarce. After he died my mother met Paul and felt as if she’d hit the jackpot. She’d found herself a rich husband who gave her a financial security she didn’t have to work for. It’s one of the reasons why my career has always been so important to me. Why I’ve been determined never to rely on a man like that.’

      She heaved out a sigh. ‘And even though he was chronically unfaithful, Paul only had to snap his fingers and she came running, which is what rich men really want women to do—and then they despise them for it. He had a thing about status. A big thing. Socialising in the highest echelons of society was his bag and his stepdaughter mixing with the illegitimate son of the hired help certainly didn’t fit into that image, despite the fact that Alej was clearly going to be a big star in the world of polo. It may have been even more basic than that. Alejandro was at his physical peak and poised on the cusp of glory and my stepfather was getting very old by then—so maybe it was that old lion, young lion thing. When he found out I was involved with Alej, he demanded I finish it.’

      ‘So you did?’

      It sounded weak to admit it now, but, yes, she’d caved in and done exactly as her stepfather had demanded—mainly because her mother had got down on her knees in that over-the-top way of hers and begged her to. Had sobbed that Paul would never forgive her if she didn’t and she couldn’t cope with a divorce and going back to being a single mother. The ensuing drama had felt like an embarrassing nightmare and in the end Emily had agreed. But she’d convinced herself it was all for the best and it would save her even more heartbreak further on down the line, because surely to Alej she was nothing more than a brief fling. A teenage love affair which wasn’t going anywhere—especially when increasing numbers of women were lining up beside the polo pitch to watch him play and making their availability very plain. Just as she’d told herself she would soon forget him. That the latter part of her assessment had never come true wasn’t anyone’s fault, particularly not his.

      ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I finished it.’

       I finished it in the most horrible way possible which still makes me shudder to think about it, which is why I rarely do.

      ‘So why do you think he’s chosen you to salvage his image, out of all the PR representatives in the world?’ questioned Marybeth slowly.

      ‘He says he wants to go into politics,’ Emily answered, her brow furrowing into a thoughtful frown. ‘And needs to shed his bad-boy reputation pretty sharpish.’

      ‘And that’s it?’ Marybeth’s eyes glinted. ‘That’s the only reason he’s employing you?’

      It was a question Emily didn’t want to answer as she snapped her suitcase closed and gave Marybeth a bright smile. ‘I guess so. What other reason could there be?’

      But she thought about her partner’s question all the way to Heathrow airport and through the long flight which followed, which was delayed further by a technical problem on the plane which was supposed to take them from Brunei to Melbourne. Hadn’t there been a whisper of revenge underpinning the dogmatic way Alejandro had demanded she go and work for him? Was the unspoken clause that he wanted to capitalise on the undoubted chemistry which still existed between them, or was that just her imagination? Because that was never going to happen, no matter what the provocation. No matter that she still found him the sexiest man she’d ever set eyes on, she wasn’t going to tumble into his arms the way she used to do. She didn’t dare. Why would she put herself through something like that when the cold glint in Alejandro’s eyes made no secret of the fact that he now despised her? All she needed to do was to resurrect his battered public image and earn the money he had promised her. Simple.

      * * *

      It was hot when she arrived in Melbourne—hotter than Emily had expected, though she’d never been to Australia before. She felt grimy and sticky after the long journey but was due to meet Alejandro at the racetrack and reckoned a trip to her hotel to freshen

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