Moondrift. Anne Mather

       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.

      Moondrift

       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

       Copyright

       CHAPTER ONE

      THE island lay almost immediately below the plane now, one of a group of smaller islands that depended on the larger islands for most of their supplies. It grew coconut palms and banana plants and pineapples, and a small amount of sugar cane, but mostly it relied on tourism for its survival, which at times had not been easy. Shaped like an avocado, it lay drowsing beneath the heat of a Caribbean afternoon, and Rhys felt his nerves tightening as the Cessna banked to make its landing.

      He had not wanted to come back. Indeed, there were times when he had sworn he would never come back. But it was ten years now, ten years and he had finally got the island out of his blood. He had had to come back to complete the catharsis.

      ‘Is that Eleutha, Daddy?’

      The girl beside him leaned towards the window excitedly, gazing down at the oblong curve of sand that fringed the west coast of the island. The hotel was situated along that strip of beach, Rhys remembered unwillingly, its low-walled terrace overlooking the lagoon confined by the reef.

      ‘Yes, that’s Eleutha,’ he answered now, giving her a brief smile. ‘We’ll be landing in a couple of minutes. You’d better get your things together.’

      ‘I’ve only got my bag and my jacket,’ she exclaimed, looking down at her bare legs with some satisfaction. ‘Look, I’m getting brown already. I expect to have a really super tan when we get back to London.’

      Rhys regarded her with affection. ‘You’re not wanting to go back already, are you?’ he enquired, and she shook her head.

      ‘No, of course not. You said we could stay for a month, didn’t you?’ Her dark gold eyes, so like his own, sparkled excitedly. ‘I can’t wait to see our house. Does it really have its own stretch of beach?’

      ‘It does.’ Rhys’s eyes turned irresistibly towards the window again. ‘I just hope you don’t get bored. Eleutha isn’t London, and there are no discothèques or department stores here.’

      ‘That’s not fair!’ A sulky look invaded her eyes at his faint criticism. ‘I didn’t get bored when we went to Mauritius, did I? And you were working there. You’re not going to work here, are you? You promised!’

      Rhys sighed. ‘I said, if I remember correctly, that I didn’t think I’d feel like working here,’ he corrected her drily. ‘Besides, you won’t want my company all the time. I’m too old.’

      ‘You’re not old,’ she contradicted him fiercely. ‘You’re only thirty-six!’

      ‘Exactly twenty years older than you, madame,’ he retorted shortly, squashing the remembrance that Jordan had only been a year older than Lucy when he first came to the island. ‘Anyway,’ he pushed these thoughts aside, ‘if you do get bored, we can always go back to Nassau.’

      ‘I shan’t.’ She gazed through the window in delight. ‘I don’t know how you could bear to stay away all these years. Look at the water! Isn’t it absolutely fantastic!’

      ‘Fantastic,’ agreed Rhys, though his lips twisted as the Cessna’s wheels made contact with the runway. He shouldn’t have come, an inner voice was warning him. He should have sold the house ten years ago, instead of allowing it to stand like a silent monument to his own folly.

      The pilot turned as the plane taxied to a halt near the whitewashed building that acted as both service and administration. ‘Glad to be back, Mr Williams?’ he enquired, giving the girl beside his employer a teasing wink. ‘Nothing’s changed, as you can see. Here comes Jacob, eager to shake you by the hand.’

      Rhys grinned, forcing himself to relax, and levered his long lean body out of his seat. ‘We’re all ten years older,’ he remarked, thrusting