Pacific Heat. Anne Mather

Pacific Heat - Anne  Mather


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       Mills & Boon is proud to present a fabulous collection of fantastic novels by bestselling, much loved author

       ANNE MATHER

      Anne has a stellar record of achievement within the

      publishing industry, having written over one hundred

      and sixty books, with worldwide sales of more than

      forty-eight MILLION copies in multiple languages.

      This amazing collection of classic stories offers a chance

      for readers to recapture the pleasure Anne’s powerful,

      passionate writing has given.

      We are sure you will love them all!

      I’ve always wanted to write—which is not to say I’ve always wanted to be a professional writer. On the contrary, for years I only wrote for my own pleasure and it wasn’t until my husband suggested sending one of my stories to a publisher that we put several publishers’ names into a hat and pulled one out. The rest, as they say, is history. And now, one hundred and sixty-two books later, I’m literally—excuse the pun—staggered by what’s happened.

      I had written all through my infant and junior years and on into my teens, the stories changing from children’s adventures to torrid gypsy passions. My mother used to gather these manuscripts up from time to time, when my bedroom became too untidy, and dispose of them! In those days, I used not to finish any of the stories and Caroline, my first published novel, was the first I’d ever completed. I was newly married then and my daughter was just a baby, and it was quite a job juggling my household chores and scribbling away in exercise books every chance I got. Not very professional, as you can imagine, but that’s the way it was.

      These days, I have a bit more time to devote to my work, but that first love of writing has never changed. I can’t imagine not having a current book on the typewriter—yes, it’s my husband who transcribes everything on to the computer. He’s my partner in both life and work and I depend on his good sense more than I care to admit.

      We have two grown-up children, a son and a daughter, and two almost grown-up grandchildren, Abi and Ben. My e-mail address is [email protected] and I’d be happy to hear from any of my wonderful readers.

      Pacific Heat

      Anne Mather

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Table of Contents

       Cover

       About the Author

       Title Page

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

       CHAPTER FOURTEEN

       EPILOGUE

       Copyright

       CHAPTER ONE

      ‘DIANE HARAN!’

      Olivia was stunned. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever expected to be offered such an assignment. To be invited to write Diane Haran’s extraordinary rags-to-riches story was amazing. Diane Haran: screen goddess; model; superstar—and the woman who five years ago had walked off with Olivia’s husband.

      ‘Yes, Diane Haran,’ repeated Kay Goldsmith, rather impatiently. ‘You have heard of her, I suppose? Well, of course you have. Everybody has. She’s world-famous. What is amazing about this is that Diane Haran should have heard of you.’

      Olivia took a deep breath and stared at her agent. ‘What do you mean? Diane Haran’s heard about me?’

      ‘Well, it was her idea that you should be the first to be offered the opportunity to be her biographer. She’d read your book about Eileen Cusack, I believe, and she’d obviously been impressed with your approach.’

      ‘Really?’

      Olivia knew she sounded cynical, but she couldn’t help it. The theory that Diane Haran might have come up with the idea of asking her to be her biographer based on Olivia’s interpretation of the Irish poet’s tragic existence was laughable. Eileen Cusack had been a heroine in the truest sense of the word, balancing the needs of her family against a crippling bone-wasting disease, and writing some of the most beautiful lyrical verse besides. She’d died just a few weeks after her biography was published, but Olivia knew she would never forget her bravery or her sweetness.

      Diane Haran was neither brave nor sweet. She was selfish and manipulative and greedy. She’d been introduced to Richard Haig at a party his agency had given for the then rising star they’d hoped to represent And, even though she’d known he was married—Olivia had been at the party, too, for heaven’s sake—she hadn’t hesitated about seducing him away from his wife.

      ‘Liv?’

      Kay’s curious enquiry brought Olivia’s attention back to the present and she realised she had been staring into space for quite some time. But the idea that Diane Haran should have suggested that she might want to play any part in her biography was ludicrous, and it was time she explained that to Kay.

      ‘I can’t do it,’ she said, and when Kay’s dark eyes widened in disbelief she pushed back her chair and got up from the desk, crossing the room to stare out of the window. Below Kay’s office window, high in a tower block near the embankment, the city traffic created a constant hum of sound. But it was reassuring to know that life was going on regardless. For a moment, she’d felt an awful sense of time suspended.

      ‘What do you mean, you can’t do it?’ Kay was on her feet now, coming round the desk to join her at the window, her plump, diminutive form accentuating Olivia’s height and the extreme slenderness of her figure. ‘Have you any idea what’s on offer here? A fantastic fee, a share in the royalties, and the chance to spend a few months in the sun.’

      Olivia looked down at her companion. ‘A few months in the sun?’ she echoed, compelled into an involuntary reply.

      ‘That’s right.’ Kay explained. ‘She wants you to go out to California and spend some time with her. She’s almost through making her current movie and her agent says she’ll have some free time before the next one is due to start shooting in September.’

      Olivia’s mouth was dry. ‘Her agent?’ she said faintly.

      ‘Yes. Phoebe Isaacs, of the Isaacs and Stone agency. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of them, but they’re pretty big in the film business. Phoebe Isaacs is quite a tough cookie, as they say on the other side of the water.’

      Olivia blinked. ‘You’re saying that this Phoebe Isaacs was the person who contacted you?’


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