It Happened in Sydney: In the Australian Billionaire's Arms / Three Times A Bridesmaid... / Expecting Miracle Twins. Margaret Way
of her mother’s green eyes looking into hers, her mother’s patrician hand stroking her long blonde hair. Good blood was in the genes.
The man past his first youth who wanted her had given her the news of their death, trying to take her into his arms, but she had resisted wildly, even so young recognising the erotic undercurrent in the family relationship. It was a terrifying thing to be left so powerless. She had waited and planned. Then she had disappeared. From that moment on always on the run. It was the equivalent of being turned out on the streets.
The buffet tables set up in the air-conditioned indoors were draped in spotless white linen, and laden with delectable food. In passing Sonya saw whole seared salmons, ocean trout, stacks of oysters, prawns galore, sea scallops, lobsters and delicious little “bugs”. There was also carved grain-fed lamb for those who liked a mix; warm salads, cold salads, potato salads, all the accompaniments. It could feed a Third World country.
The guest list was for a party of twenty. Four large glass-topped rectangular tables shaded by royal blue, white-fringed umbrellas were in place for al fresco dining. One could choose indoors or out, though the informal living room with its white marble floor and largely white furnishings was open to the broad terrace with its white canopy by way of a series of foldaway glass doors that brought the spectacular view in.
They were greeted warmly by Rowena, who led them out onto a sun-drenched terrace where the guests who had already arrived were assembled enjoying a glass of whatever they fancied, served by two handsome young man in jaunty uniforms that featured very dashing waist-length fitted jackets. Sonya recognised the logo of the excellent catering company Rowena had employed. She herself had provided the wealth of prize blooms, including some exquisite lotus blossoms, along with a generous amount of assorted leaves for Lady Palmerston to arrange herself. Lady Palmerston was as passionate about flowers as she was.
Smiles on all sides. Warm hellos. Nice to meet you. Some of the older ladies she knew. They were now her clients, thanks to their hostess. Mercifully Paula Rowlands’s antagonism wasn’t on display. Not yet anyway. Though Paula soon turned back to resume her conversation with her own kind of people.
Sonya watched as David Wainwright hugged his uncle. They were very close. There was no one to hug her like that any more. No family who had been out to look after her, just exploit her. When the moment came, David Wainwright all but shocked her by bending his handsome dark head to lightly brush her cheek. A couple of seconds only, yet she felt the thrill of it right down to her toes. When she looked up, his brilliant glance was hooded. It was obvious he wanted only happiness for his uncle, and just as obvious he didn’t see her as any sort of a solution.
Marcus had been drawn away for a moment by two of his old chums, Dominic and Elizabeth Penry-Evans, one a Supreme Court judge, the wife an eminent barrister. David turned to her, his tone friendly, but laced with challenge. “How nice to see you here, Sonya.”
“Very pleased to be here, David.” She gave him a cool little smile. No need for him to know she was trying to slow her quickened breath. “This has to be one of the most glorious views on earth,” she said, looking across the turquoise swimming pool to the sparkling blue harbour with its view of the famous Coat Hanger, the Sydney Harbour Bridge, and the world famous Opera House with its glittering white sails. “I believe you live only a short distance away?”
He was wrestling with an overpowering urge to pull at the silk scarf that tied back her beautiful hair. He wanted to see it loose and blowing, cascading around her face and over her shoulders. It was wonderful hair. “No doubt you will see my apartment some time,” he said, adopting a careless tone.
“No urgency.” She remained looking out over the spectacular view.
“I don’t actually know where you live,” he said. “But we can’t forget you’re something of a mystery woman.”
She turned back, lifting her chin.
It was an amazingly imperious gesture, he thought. A simple lift of the chin? Who was this woman? One thing was certain: she had gone to great lengths to hide her background.
“Of course you do,” she said. “It’s a wonder I haven’t stumbled over one of your spies.”
He gave her a twisted smile. “Maybe spying is a very harsh word. Just a little checking.”
“So you know I don’t live in your part of town.” The air around them seemed to be vibrating like the beating wings of a hummingbird.
“Well, maybe down a notch,” he said lightly.
“How kind.”
“You do admit to a chip on your shoulder, Sonya?” He knew he should move away from her. Only he couldn’t. He really couldn’t. He saw it as a blow to his self-control.
“I admit to a chip on both shoulders,” she responded with mocking sweetness. “But it has nothing to do with not having a lot of money, or not moving in your illustrious circles, David.”
How good his name on her lips sounded. No one else said it the same way. He got Holt from his mother. She was a Holt and never let anyone forget it. “Surely there’s a strong possibility that’s all going to change?”
“You’ll be the first to know, David,” she said scathingly.
“Marcus is already in love with you. But it’s not you, Sonya, I’m worried about. You’re obviously a young woman who knows how to look after herself.”
Her emerald eyes flashed like jewels in the sunlight. “Is that so strange? Women have had to fight long and hard for independence, recognition. And the fight isn’t over.”
“And you’ve had to fight very hard to be strong?” It could explain so much about her.
“What woman doesn’t?” she said scornfully, clearly on the defensive.
“Why so hostile, Sonya?” he asked. “Has some man really hurt you?” He found he badly wanted to know. She had presented her lovely profile so he couldn’t look into her eyes. He had to face the fact he had an ever-growing need to discover all there was to know about this young woman.
For Marcus, or for yourself?
He felt shamed by the thought. For God’s sake, she was here with Marcus.
“I have met threatening, difficult and a few terrifying men,” she said, almost tonelessly. “Does that answer your question? I dare say there would be many women who could say the same. Battered, abused women who never saw it coming. I feel truly secure with Marcus.”
His brows knotted in a frown. “And the feeling of security needs to be locked into your relationships?”
“Exactly.” She stood motionless, her head turned away from him.
“So in a different situation where you could fall madly in love you would regard yourself as being under threat?”
She was startled by how he had hit on a problematic area. Her lack of trust in men. “Falling in love is a kind of madness, surely?” she parried. “Who can say being madly in love is essential to a good marriage? There are other very worthwhile things. So why don’t you let Marcus worry about himself, David? He’s a grown man. Or is it the money? Are you his heir?”
“Careful, Sonya,” he warned.
“Touched a raw nerve, have I?” She turned back to him then, her beautiful eyes frankly mocking.
“If you’re looking for raw nerves, you haven’t found it,” he said curtly. He was in fact the main beneficiary of Marcus’s will.
“But then you’re a man who doesn’t get frazzled easily,” she said. “But it’s not nonsense entirely. It’s often said, no one can have too much money.”
“It’s also said money can’t guarantee happiness.” He cut her off tersely.
“Maybe not, but it can guarantee wonderful