Australia's Maverick Millionaire. Margaret Way

The first, her father’s wife; the other, a woman, Clio suspected, who had a largely unfulfilled sexual appetite. And that appetite was for Josh.

      Keeley had chosen her father for his money and the position it afforded her. The marriage wasn’t working out. Should anyone be surprised? Only Clio and her grandfather knew Keeley had claimed to have fallen pregnant before the marriage. Unintentionally, of course. Her grandfather had urged a DNA test, proving paternity. Her father wanted no part of that. The child was his. He would take full responsibility. Only the child turned out to be either a secret miscarriage or a phantom pregnancy. Keeley Bradley had been no inexperienced young woman. She had been in her late twenties at the time of the marriage, a trail of lovers behind her.

      After her mother had drowned, her father, hitherto so happy, had turned into a sad, solitary man, who would forever mourn the loss of his wife. He had broken down at the funeral, sobbing out his wish to have drowned with her. But here had been a man of forty-five, in the prime of life. After a decent period of time, he had been advised by everyone who cared for him to try to move on. Allegra was gone. He had the rest of his life to live out. His response?

       “Move on? I don’t know what that means, Clio. I’m lost in limbo with little hope of getting out.”

      Much as her father loved her, Clio knew she was no replacement for her mother.

       No one was.

      Ironically Keeley Bradley had entered their lives at her father’s 50th birthday party, given by Leo for a small group of family and close friends. Keeley had gained entry by virtue of partnering Clio’s playboy cousin, Peter, when his previous date had had to cancel with a migraine. Keeley was a very provocative young woman and she had looked on serious wealth for the first time. She had gone after Lyle with the full force of her sexuality. Her father in the end was only human. Women could and did use sex as a weapon. Keeley had brought her father down.

      Her movements so flowing they hid all sense of urgency, Clio skirted various groups with a smile and a few words, arriving at Josh’s side within seconds. She placed her hand on the sleeve of his white dinner jacket, feeling the hard musculature beneath the cloth. “Excuse me, won’t you?” She glanced at her stepmother, who stared back at her with a battery of expressions, dislike predominating. “I wonder if I could speak to you for a moment, Josh?”

      He felt a certain degree of contempt for himself as sensations crashed around inside his chest. She had only put her hand on his arm yet it had much the same effect as a charge of electricity. Apart from the kiss on his cheek he had received from her a lifetime ago, this was the first time she had actually touched him, albeit through his dinner jacket.

       You’re one pathetic guy!

      Yet his response couldn’t have emerged from a smoother or more in-control mouth. “Why, of course.” He knew Clio did everything graciously, but he saw her sudden appearance for what it was. Diplomatic intervention. Clio had the art of creating a serene atmosphere in her grandfather’s mansion. And she was nobody’s fool. She had very accurately deduced how he was feeling, how her stepmother was looking for a bit of dangerous sex on the side. Apparently he qualified. It was Clio’s job to keep watch.

      She led him through one of the sets of doors into the cooling, star-studded night. The French doors opened out onto a wide covered verandah with a polished teak floor. Beyond that, the broad floodlit terrace with acres and acres of magnificent tropical gardens before them were also illuminated. The rhythmic splash of the waterfall into the lake carried clearly on the night air. A caressing breeze blew, bringing with it the intoxicating scent of gardenias. As Clio moved she signalled one of the young uniformed waiters who brought out champagne on a silver tray to them.

      “Have one, please, Josh,” she said, as far away from him as the stars in the sky. “I don’t suppose it’s your drink of choice?”

      He removed a frosted flute from the tray, passed it to her, felt the shock waves all over again as her fingers fleetingly touched his. “Drink of choice? There’s not much I don’t like in the way of alcohol, Clio, except maybe rum. Red wine I very much like. Champagne, especially when it’s French, like now,” he commented dryly, on the Bollinger. “It’s the only white wine I really like. I’m not one of the Chardonnay set.”

      “Good. Neither am I. So drink it.”

      “Yes, my lady.”

      “Don’t do that, Josh,” she begged. No one could call Josh an easy person. He had such an edge.

      “Well, you are far, far above me, aren’t you?” he said with a faint taunt, thinking he was living proof that a strong man could be held in thrall by a woman.

      She gave him a long look out of her lustrous dark eyes. “You’ve come a long way since you were a boy, Josh. False modesty must sound ridiculous even to yourself. My grandfather thinks the world of you. He gets prouder and prouder every day. You’re a big success story, Josh. You’re the sort of grandson Leo wanted but never got.”

      “He got someone far better. He got you.”

      She shrugged her bare shoulders. Her skin was a lovely even honey gold, showing her Italian heritage. “He loves me as I love him. But I’m a woman. Men like my grandfather needed sons, grandsons. Leo believes men are unquestionably the natural-born leaders. Sons take over and carry on the family businesses. They build on already amassed fortunes.”

      “There are plenty of brilliant businesswomen,” Josh freely acknowledged. “I’ve met a few over the last couple of years, as sharp as tacks.”

      “You’re a different breed, Josh,” she sighed. “And you’re young.” Josh was only twenty-eight, though he appeared older he had such presence.

      “So what are you saying here, Clio? You have issues?”

      “Of course I do,” she said.

      “But you’re an associate in Templeton & Company. One day you’ll make full partner.”

      “And be assured of a sizzling career? I don’t think so. Much as my grandfather and my father love me, they want to keep me away from all unpleasantness, as if I’m a little girl. I handle the genteel side of business. Wills, conveyancing, minor disputes, that sort of thing.”

      He knew it was true. “Still, I understand their motivation. In a way. You’re very precious to them. Jimmy is not up to the mark?”

      “Jimmy tries. He’s a very different person from his father,” she said, taking a sip of champagne as though she needed a pause.

      “So Vince Crowley is the pick of the bunch? How bright is that? Second rate?”

      “You’re not an avid fan of the Crowleys?”

      He looked intently into her beautiful face. “And you are? You’d need at least a category-five cyclone to put wind beneath Jimmy’s sails.”

      “I suppose.” She had to laugh.

      “And all the Crowleys think Leo’s beautiful granddaughter is within reach.” His loathing of the very idea momentarily got the better of him.

      “Wishful thinking, I’d say. You’re taking a quantum leap, aren’t you, Josh? Our rules of engagement have hitherto prohibited much in the way of personal remarks.”

      “Your decision, wasn’t it?” he answered sardonically.

      “Did it seem like that to you?” It hadn’t been her decision at all. Her father only a few years back had gone so far as to forbid her to get anywhere near Josh Hart.

       He’s a very damaged young man. And dangerous. I’ve read his case file. It was on Dad’s desk. Did you know he beat one of his minders to a pulp?

      He probably deserved it, she had said at the time.

      That hadn’t gone down well with her father, who seemed truly fearful of any connection between her and Josh. It was