She didn’t leap up in excitement as they turned for the gallop to the winning post. The crowd on the terrace was in its usual uproar but she simply sat quietly, and Peter had the uneasy feeling her mind had slipped to another place and she was there by herself, not with him or anyone else. The race finished and she didn’t even seem aware of the bustling aftermath—people going off to get drinks, celebrating their winnings or commiserating over their losses.“Erin …” No response.He reached over and touched her hands. Her head jerked towards him, eyes wide and startled.“Where were you?” he asked.“Oh!” Hot colour whooshed into her cheeks. Embarrassed confusion in her eyes.“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drift off. I just do sometimes,” she rattled out apologetically.Did she have some mental problem?“It’s nothing to do with you, Peter,” she swiftly assured him.”You’ve been marvellous company. It was watching the horses. They’re so beautiful and it started me thinking…”She hesitated, fro

“You started the role-playing, Peter,” she reminded him.”Offering to be my prince. And I let myself be sucked into it because I really did think you might be.”A muscle in his cheek contracted. His eyes blazed with fierce resentment.”You knew what you were getting, Erin. I didn’t bypass any important facts about me.”“Who really knows anybody?” she muttered derisively.There were always—always—things hidden—things that came out to bite you when some emotional trigger was hit. She’d been subjected to this kind of angry man pride before and knew there was no fixing it, short of giving up writing and becoming a satellite to his interests. Erin gritted her teeth. Not even for this man would she give up her essential self.She turned aside to gather up her clothes, and the David Jones bag that held what she’d worn on Friday night. Better to make her exit in the latter outfit, since yesterday’s made her too recognisable to anyone who’d seen the newspaper photograph. Which reminded her of th

Seven months later…Erin checked that she had everything ready for the meeting; jug of iced waterin the refrigerator, glasses ready on the kitchen bench, coffee percolator loaded—Jane Emerson, her agent, never drank anything else—Earl Grey tea for Richard Long, her very English editor, and a plate of assorted cookies that should please everyone. The living room was tidy, the curtains pulled back to showcase the view of Byron Bay —white sand and crystal clear turquoise water.She had bought this beach house four years ago. It suited her, right away from the bustle of major cities, especially for writing. She didn’t care if the animated film people thought she was some prima donna author, insisting that they travel to her for the consultation on how her story was to be brought to the big screen. At eight months’ pregnant, and determined on keeping that fact as private as possible, she didn’t want any fanfare about this meeting.The publicity could come afterwards, when everything had b

A completely different fear gripped Erin as Peter gently lowered her into the chair she used for writing—fear for the baby. Something had to be wrong for it to be coming a month early. She wrapped her arms protectively around her belly, rocking it in an agony of hope that all was still well.“Try to stay calm. Panic won’t help,” Peter coolly advised.”Give me your doctor’s name and I’ll get things moving for you.”“Davis.” She nodded to the telephone on the desk.”Press six for his surgery.”Within seconds he was acting for her.”This is Peter Ramsey, calling on behalf of Erin Lavelle. I need to be connected to Dr Davis immediately. This is an emergency.”A waiting pause, then,” Yes, I am that Peter Ramsey. I’m with Erin Lavelle .Her water has broken and she’s suffering labour pain. I’d appreciate it if you’d despatch an ambulance immediately to her house on Ocean Drive, number 14, and meet us at the hospital when we get there.”Another pause.The bad pain had receded, leaving only a du

Two months …two months of holding himself in check while Erin recovered from Jack’s birth and made the adjustment from her solitary life to what it meant to be a Ramsey. The waiting was almost over. Tonight she would be his wife. She would share his bed and the desire that had driven him to set up a second meeting with her could finally be freed from the constrictions he’d placed upon it.The wedding had to come first.He’d taken every care not to give Erin any cause to change her mind about their marriage, always keeping their son’s welfare as the prime reason for it. The sex, which had been so memorable to him and had to be to her, as well, was a secondary lure, promising that the commitment would not be without pleasure.However, the fact that she’d walked away from it once had made him wary of using it as a form of pressure to keep her on track. Once the marriage vows were taken, there would be no walking away.Ever again.Which was precisely how he wanted it.“You’re looking grim