Kindergarten Cupids. Vivienne Wallington

the exquisitely furnished rooms that she spied at intervals on her way to the front door—all of them, she noted in bemusement, following the same basic white theme. Beautiful, but hopelessly impractical. She wondered how anyone could possibly keep the place clean with an exuberant young boy in the house.

      Poor Ben. She’d have tantrums, too, Mardi decided, if she had to live in such pristine perfection!

      Where was Ben’s father? she pondered when Cain Templar failed to appear from any of the rooms. The boys had vanished from sight. When the housekeeper ushered her through the impressive glass doors at the front of the house and led her out onto a broad, balustraded terrace, she assumed that Cain had ordered his maid to get his guests out of his house at the earliest possible opportunity.

      In front of her stood a white outdoor table with a set of matching chairs, set with drinking glasses and bowls of nuts and cookies.

      Her gaze swept past them. “Wow!” She blinked against the sunlight as a breathtaking vista opened up in front of her.

      Wide stone steps led down to a beautifully landscaped garden on several levels, with exotic plants, elegant statues and sweeping lawns—in fact, the two boys were already chasing each other round one of the lawns, among the statues, as she watched. A kidney-shape swimming pool lay to one side, with, she was relieved to see, a discreet iron-railing safety fence all round. On a lower level was an immaculately kept grass tennis court. Beyond lay the harbor in all its glory, with white-sailed yachts and other craft skimming across the shimmering blue water, and in the distance she spied the familiar outline of the Sydney Harbor Bridge.

      She swallowed. What a view! She hoped Cain appreciated it. She glanced back at his house. With its soaring white columns rising to the upper-story balcony, it looked even grander and more magnificent from the front.

      Mardi felt her throat go dry. She’d known the Templars were wealthy—their money and lavish lifestyle were what had attracted her husband to the glamorous Sylvia in the first place—but she hadn’t realized the extent of their wealth. This awesome property must be worth millions.

      No wonder Darrell had been impressed. This was the kind of lifestyle her husband had longed for. His spending and debts had soared out of all control in his attempt to emulate it.

      And she was paying for his folly. For his greed.

      “Mr. Templar will be with you shortly,” the housekeeper informed her, still without cracking a smile. Maybe, Mardi mused with a touch of cynicism, the Templars had forbidden their staff to smile or fraternize with their guests. “He had an important phone call,” the woman added.

      Business on a Saturday? Mardi shrugged. Why should she care? She’d be happier, and certainly a lot more relaxed, without him. “That’s fine. I’ll just stay here and watch over the boys.”

      But she wasn’t destined to be happier and more relaxed, because in less than a minute Cain joined her, striding from the house with athletic ease and an unconsciously arrogant air of self-confidence.

      She had to gulp a few times before he reached her. Having only seen him in an immaculate business suit and tie, seeing him now in a casual polo shirt and jeans—well, never in a million years would she have envisaged him in jeans! Yet he looked so right in them, so at ease in them. And so darned sexy!

      How could Sylvia Templar ever have looked at another man, even during her husband’s lengthy absences?

      Mardi’s thoughts darkened. The very fact that he was so sexy undoubtedly meant that he had women throwing themselves at him wherever he went. Maybe he hadn’t been able to resist their advances, and his wife had grown tired of his roving ways and decided that what was good for the goose was equally as good for the gander.

      Her mind kept coming back, she realized, to his affairs…his philandering…kept shifting blame to him. Why, she despaired, was she so determined to think the worst of him, when it was his glamorous wife, of her own free will, who had chased and stolen her husband?

      Would she ever find out the real truth? Did she honestly want to?

      “Mardi,” Cain said, flashing her a mind-blowing smile. But she wasn’t going to cave in under it, she vowed. Charm was only skin-deep, after all. Her husband, Darrell, had possessed charm in abundance. He could switch it on and off like a tap.

      “Good morning, Cain.” She kept her own smile cool. “If you’re busy,” she offered, “I can look after the boys. I’d be happy to.”

      “Where are they?” he asked, glancing round. He hadn’t declined her offer, she noticed. She’d give him another minute or two—he’d stay that long out of politeness or a sense of obligation—and then he’d be off. “Ah…” He frowned. “There they are.”

      She followed his gaze, her heart sinking as she saw the two boys trying to climb the wire fence surrounding the tennis court. Oh, no, she thought. Now he’ll think Nicky’s a bad influence. And she was worried about Ben’s bad behavior rubbing off on Nicky.

      “They were playing chasey a moment ago,” she said with a guilty flush. “I just took my eyes off them for a minute.” To look at you—more fool me. “I’ll run down and put a stop to it.” She shot off before he could stop her—if he intended to.

      “They won’t be doing it for long,” he called after her. “The wire will cut into their fingers.”

      She didn’t even glance round as she flew down the steps. As soon as she was close enough for the boys to hear her, she shouted. “Get down, Nicky! You know better than to climb on other people’s fences. And you must never climb a tennis court fence. You’ll ruin it.”

      “You, too, Ben. I’ve warned you before.”

      Mardi jumped at the sound of Cain’s voice, not realizing he’d followed her. Both boys dropped to the ground, rubbing their smarting hands. “There’s nothing else to climb here,” Ben complained. “Nicky has big trees at his place.”

      Not for much longer, Mardi thought with a sigh. Their new place, if she ever found a suitable home for her brood, would be unlikely even to have a garden.

      “Elena’s bringing some drinks out onto the terrace for you,” Cain told the boys. “Let’s see who can get up there first.”

      The two boys shot off, and Mardi held her breath. Ben was much taller and faster than Nicky, and she was afraid that her son would try so hard to keep up with his lanky friend that he’d trip over and break his glasses.

      “A race might tire them out,” Cain commented hopefully, “and make them settle down a bit.”

      “They seem very happy to see each other,” Mardi conceded, still watching anxiously as she and Cain headed off after the boys—at a more leisurely pace.

      She only took her eyes off Nicky when he safely reached the terrace and flopped into an outdoor chair. Ben was already pouncing on the bowl of cookies, while Elena poured drinks for them from a big jug of orange juice.

      Mardi glanced around. There was no doubt about it…it was a beautifully designed garden, with its slim ornamental pines and neat flower beds, its well-clipped lawns and graceful statues. Hardly a garden for boisterous little boys.

      There were no trees suitable for climbing, as Ben had pointed out, no hardy shrubs for playing hide-and-seek, no playground equipment, no sandpit, no areas specifically set aside for energetic wear and tear. Cain Templar would probably throw a fit if his son tried to stick cricket stumps into his immaculate lawn or trampled on one of his exotic plants. Or worse, knocked over one of those slender statues dotting the lawn.

      “Have you ever thought of buying a jungle gym or a swing for Ben?” she asked. “Boys love to climb. Well, you’ve just seen how they…” She trailed off as Cain’s dark brow drew down in a frown. And no wonder, she thought in immediate self-reproach. She’d been here for five minutes and she was offering suggestions that in his eyes, no doubt, would desecrate the place!

      “My wife believed that play equipment