The Millionaire's Inexperienced Love-Slave. Miranda Lee
With cream. But first, bring us a bottle of that white I had the other day. You know the one. It’s a Sauvignon Blanc from Margaret River.’
‘Right away, Mr Palmer.’
Sharni had to admire his savoir-faire. It had been a long time since a man had ordered a meal for her with such panache. Ray had been a bit of a waffler when it came to deciding what to order in a restaurant. Making decisions had not been her husband’s forte. That had been her domain.
Or it had once. Sharni’s decision-making capabilities had disintegrated shortly after she’d won the compensation case. It was as though she’d stayed strong whilst she’d sought justice. But the moment the verdict had come down in her favour, she’d gone to mush.
Winning three million dollars compensation had proved to be a hollow victory, because all the money in the world would never make up for the loss of her husband and her beautiful little baby.
Still, life did go on, as Janice kept telling her.
Her sister would have been proud of her for not running away just now. Though she might be suspicious of Sharni’s motives for agreeing to having lunch with Ray’s double. Janice might think she was pretending Ray were still alive, and nothing had changed at all.
That was not the case. This man might look like Ray, but he was nothing like him in personality. The only time she could ever pretend he was Ray was if he didn’t speak. Or if he was asleep.
‘You really designed this building?’ she asked once the waiter departed.
‘I certainly did. Do you like it?’
‘To be honest, I haven’t had a proper look at it. I was walking past on this side of the street, smelt food, realised it was lunch-time and came in for something to eat.’
‘After lunch, I’ll give you the royal tour. I live on one of the upper floors.’
Lord, she thought. What a fast worker!
‘I don’t think so, Mr Palmer.’
‘Adrian,’ he corrected with another of those seductive smiles of his.
Sharni had to confess that she found his attention flattering. She also found him very attractive. Which was only logical. Ray’s looks had been the first thing to attract her. Physically, he’d stood out in a crowd. It wasn’t till she’d talked to him that she’d realised how shy he was.
That had appealed to her at the time. Nowadays, however, she would probably go for a more confident, outgoing kind of man, the kind who would look after her, not the other way around.
But she wasn’t ready yet to leap back into the dating world, especially not with the dead spit of her dead husband. And certainly not with such an accomplished ladies’ man.
Sharni knew a womaniser when she met one.
‘I don’t think so, Adrian,’ she said quite coolly. ‘Lunch is all I agreed to. Take it or leave it.’
He sighed. But it didn’t sound like a defeated sigh. Sharni suspected he was already thinking of another tack to take.
The wine’s arrival brought that confident smile back to his handsome face, reminding her not to drink too much. She’d gone through a stage a year or so back when she’d drunk far too much. Nowadays, she limited her alcoholic intake, having been advised that alcohol was not good for depression, which she fell into every time her thoughts dwelled on all that she had lost.
It had been too much to bear. First her husband, and then their baby. Oh, God…
‘Penny for your thoughts.’
Sharni gritted her teeth as she glanced up, then reached for her glass of wine. To hell with being sensible, she thought, I need this drink today.
Adrian watched her sweep the glass up to her lips and take a deep swallow.
‘They’re worth a lot more than that,’ she replied. Somewhat bitterly, he thought.
‘I’m not sure what you mean there.’
She took another gulp of wine before answering. ‘I was thinking about the compensation I received from the Rail Authority.’
‘I hope they gave you a decent amount.’
Her laugh was very definitely bitter. ‘They weren’t going to. So I got myself a lawyer and sued them.’
‘Good for you.’
‘I was very lucky. My lawyer was brilliant. A woman. She was so incensed by my case that she gave me her services, pro bono.’
‘That doesn’t happen too often.’
‘Jordan was wonderfully kind to me.’
Adrian’s eyebrows arched in surprise. ‘Jordan as in Jordan Gray of Stedley & Parkinsons?’
Sharni’s wineglass stopped in mid-air. ‘Why, yes. Do you know Jordan?’
‘She’s married to Gino Bortelli, the Italian businessman who commissioned me to design this building. It’s called the Bortelli Tower.’
‘Good heavens! When did all this happen? Jordan wasn’t married when she represented me.’
‘About a year or so back. It seems Jordan and Gino knew each other years before and ran into each other again by accident when Gino was up here on business. Just in time, since Jordan was about to become engaged to another man. Anyway, to cut a long story short, true love won out. They’ve not long returned from an extended honeymoon in Italy. But they don’t live in Sydney. Their home is in Melbourne.’
‘What a shame. I would have loved to catch up with Jordan.’
‘I can give you their home phone number, if you like.’
‘Oh, no. No, I wouldn’t impose like that. I was just a client after all, not a close friend. But I’m glad to hear Jordan’s happily married. I presume she is happy?’
‘Very. She and Gino have a baby already. A boy. They called him Joe.’
‘How lovely,’ she said, her eyes going all misty for a moment. ‘I’m so glad for her.’
‘How much compensation did she get you?’ Adrian asked. ‘Or is that a rude question?’
‘Three million.’
He whistled. ‘That’s a nice tidy sum. I hope you’ve invested it wisely.’
‘It’s safe.’ Safe, sitting in a bank account that paid a reasonable rate of interest and had absolutely no risk at all.
‘Do you still live in the Blue Mountains?’ he asked her.
‘Yes. On the outskirts of Katoomba.’
‘So you’re just down here in Sydney today to shop?’
‘Not exactly. My sister thought I needed a little holiday. She gave me a weekend package at one of Sydney’s boutique hotels as a birthday present.’
‘You mean it’s your birthday today?’ What a perfect excuse to take her out this evening. If he could persuade her to go, of course!
‘No. My birthday was quite a few weeks ago.’
‘And you were?’
She slanted him a sharp glance. ‘Now that is a rude question. You should never ask a woman her age.’
He smiled. ‘I thought that only applied when they reached forty.’
‘Not in my book.’
‘Fair enough. So what do you do? Or don’t you work any more?’
‘I’m a veterinary assistant. But I’m only working part-time these days.’
Why was that? he wondered. Because she didn’t need the money, or because she was