Erin drifted slowly from a lovely languorous sleep, a deep sense of well- being seeping into her consciousness, her body uncurling and stretching, revelling in feeling good. She lifted her arms up over her head, arched her back and opened her eyes.Shock slammed into her heart.Peter Ramsey was standing at the end of the bed, watching her, a satisfied little smile lurking on his lips, his hair wet, slicked back, his blue eyes taking their fill of her, his magnificent body unashamedly naked except for a white towel slung over one shoulder.He was definitely real.And she was in his bed, his apartment at Bondi Beach .Memories of all they’d done together last night flooded through Erin’s mind.Her vaginal muscles instantly squinched, recalling the incredible pleasure of one amazing climax after another. It had been so fantastic, but…what happens now?“Sleeping beauty awakes,” Peter drawled in an indulgent tone.”You could have waited for my kiss.”Relief poured into her smile. He wasn’t
Because she was different. Everything about her was different. Which made it new to him.And undoubtedly he was new to her, too.Preschool teachers did not normally socialise with billionaires. If she had reservations about that this morning—seeing no real future for this relationship—he had to allay them, because one thing was certain in his mind. He didn’t want her walking out of his life. Not at this point.Erin was surprised and pleased that Peter had decided to drive her into the city centre himself—an unnecessary double journey since he’d be picking her up later. She happily thought he wanted to spend the time with her, though once they were on their way, she noticed he wasn’t particularly relaxed. In fact, his hands had a knuckle tight grip on the steering wheel.Had he changed his mind about taking her to the races, introducing her to his social circle? Was he about to excuse himself—impulse shouldn’t be carried too far? Maybe he felt guilty about her spending money on dressi
Peter had to stop the BMW at the pedestrian crossing from Hyde Park to St Mary’s Cathedral, just short of where he had dropped Erin this morning. The dashboard clock read eleven thirty-one. He’d timed his arrival almost perfectly.Was she waiting for him?He checked the sidewalk that curved down to Elizabeth Street. His quickly scanning gaze caught sight of a woman standing in the shade of an overhanging tree, just past the end of the taxi rank—a stunningly attired woman who looked as if she’d stepped out of the fashion pages of Vogue magazine.Was it Erin ?A very stylish black hat dipped over her face, making her identity uncertain for a moment, though the hair was right, the body shape was right. Her head turned towards him and his heart thumped with a great leap of excitement. It was her. She saw the blue BMW, smiled, waved, moved out from the shade towards the edge of the sidewalk, ready to join him.The dress she wore was a sleeveless, silky wraparound, a deep jade-green with bi
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
The irritating buzz of the bedside telephone woke him. Peter quickly reached out and snatched up the receiver, not wanting Erin to be disturbed from her sleep. It had been a long night of the most sensual sex he’d ever experienced.The desire they stirred in each other was incredibly mutual and he wanted her to stay in his bed as long as he could keep her there.The clock-radio read one minute past eight. His mother was nattering away on the telephone line. He muffled the voice noise with his hand as he slid swiftly from Erin’s side and strode out of the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him. He took a deep breath to quell his sharp annoyance at being called this early on a Sunday morning. If it wasn’t his mother…He lifted the receiver to his ear and couldn’t quite keep an impatient terseness out of his voice as he demanded,” What’s up, Mum? Some emergency?”A blank silence, then,” Haven’t you been listening, Peter?” “I’m barely awake,” he said on an exasperated sigh.“Then yo
“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
Her little fling…Peter seethed over being cast for that role by Erin Lavelle. He couldn’t see it any other way, given her readiness to leave him when the situation no longer suited her. Toy with the prince for a while, fulfil a few sexual fantasies, enjoy whatever entertainment he provides, but keep him in the box marked Playtime.The infuriating part was all the signals had been there if he hadn’t been so blindly arrogant about his own appeal to a Cinderella preschool teacher. Erin had dressed to bowl him over on Friday night and there’d not been the slightest hesitation over going tohis castle. Even her serene silence in the car on the drive out to Bondi Beach should have telegraphed he was doing precisely what she’d wanted of him. Why bother with conversation when the game was well and truly on?Then the way she’d taken over out on the balcony…All the pleasure she’d given him was soured by the knowledge that she had only been interested in having a physical relationship, and only
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