The Holiday Escapes Collection. Sandra Marton

‘Oh, I’m not that good…really…I can just about manage one of those just add chicken and frozen vegetables…’

      ‘It sounds a whole lot better than hotel food,’ he said. ‘So how about it? What about you cook for me tomorrow night?’

      ‘I’m busy.’

      ‘The night after?’

      ‘I—I don’t cook on weekends.’

      ‘Then I will cook for you,’ he said. ‘I will bring the ingredients to your house and cook a meal that will totally stun you.’

      ‘My kitchen is tiny…and my oven and cook top doesn’t work.’

      He gave her a narrow-eyed look. ‘You do not want me to come to your house, do you?’

      ‘It’s not a house, it’s just a rented flat and I haven’t had time to clean up for weeks.’

      ‘If your goal is to put me off, let me assure you it is doing the very opposite,’ he said.

      Charlotte could feel the rising panic beating like a drum in her chest. She could ask Caroline to babysit one more time but the flat was full of little kid stuff. It even smelled like Emily.

      ‘I’m not sure it’s such a good idea that we see each other again,’ she said, actively avoiding his eyes.

      The small throbbing silence should have warned her he was preparing a lethal comeback.

      ‘You are forgetting our agreement,’ he said in a tone that was ridged with steel. ‘I have paid for your company and I intend to get my money’s worth.’

      She raised her worried gaze back to his, desperately trying to find a way out. ‘You’re here for a short time and I have…I have someone else.’

      ‘You said there was no one in your life at present.’

      She forced herself to resist the urge to look away. ‘I was lying.’

      ‘You seem to be rather good at that,’ he observed.

      ‘I don’t want to complicate my life with the past,’ she said. ‘What we had is over.’

      He grasped her hand once more, his long fingers entrapping hers. ‘It’s not over, Charlotte. You know it is not. How can you say it is over when there is this incredible pulse between us? I felt it that first night. As soon as our eyes met across the room, I knew you felt it too.’

      ‘It has to be over. You think I’m a thief.’

      ‘What’s in the past is best left there. This is here and now,’ he said, his dark gaze intent on hers. ‘We have the chance to explore our attraction again. Let us not waste it.’

      She shifted her gaze again, her insides twisting in anguish. ‘Don’t ask this of me, Damon.’

      ‘Are you in love with this other person?’

      She let out a wobbly breath. ‘It’s not that kind of love…’

      ‘What sort of love is it?’

      ‘It’s hard to describe.’

      ‘I am sure they will understand if we spend an occasional evening together,’ he said. ‘You can tell them you are spending time with an old friend.’

      She was so tempted—so very tempted.

      ‘I guess a couple of nights here or there would be OK,’ she conceded.

      Had she really said that? What was she thinking? It was madness to dance with such danger.

      ‘When we met the first time around, we rushed headlong into a physical relationship,’ he said. ‘I guess that was really my fault. I saw you and I wanted you. But who knows? This time around we might become both lovers and friends.’

      Charlotte swallowed the scratchy contents of her throat. ‘Friends?’

      He gave her another spine-loosening smile. ‘You find it hard to see me as a friend?’

      ‘No…I’m sure you’d make a very good friend.’ And a deadly enemy, she reminded herself.

      ‘Let us start by seeing each other on Monday evening,’ he suggested. ‘How about dinner and some dancing? I’ll send a car to pick you up.’

      ‘No.’

      One dark brow rose over his eye. ‘No?’

      ‘I—I can make my own way,’ she said, lowering her eyes once more.

      ‘All right,’ he said after a tiny pause. ‘Meet me at my hotel at seven.’

      ‘OK…’

      He smiled and raised his glass to hers. ‘To us being both friends and lovers.’

      Her glass didn’t quite make the distance to his. ‘To being friends,’ she said and, hoping she wasn’t courting disaster, downed the contents.

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      ‘AREyou serious?’ Caroline gaped at Charlotte. ‘How could your own sister do that to you?’

      ‘I know.’ Charlotte sighed sadly as she watched Emily bend down with Janie to watch a bug climb up a stem of grass. ‘I still can’t quite believe she’d go that far, but I guess that’s drugs for you. Our father was exactly the same. One taste and he was lost.’

      ‘I can lend you some money if you’re short,’ Caroline offered.

      ‘No, I’ll be fine. I got paid yesterday, but thanks anyway.’

      Caroline gave her hand a squeeze. ‘You’ve never really given up hope on her, have you?’

      Charlotte’s mouth twisted. ‘She’s all I have, apart from Emily.’

      ‘But stealing is a crime whether it’s your family you’ve stolen from or not. What if she’s taking other people’s money to feed her habit?’

      ‘She already has,’ Charlotte said, her expression now grim. ‘But she couldn’t have picked a worse person to steal from.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      She turned to look at her friend. ‘Stacey took a man’s wallet the other night, but it wasn’t just any ordinary everyday sort of man.’

      Caroline’s eyes widened with intrigue. ‘Uh-oh, this is sounding scary. Who was it? Somebody famous?’

      ‘Even worse.’

      ‘Who?’

      Charlotte took an uneven breath and said, ‘It was Emily’s father.’

      ‘Emily’s father?’ Caroline almost fell off the park bench. ‘You mean he’s here in Sydney? I thought you said he lived in Greece.’

      ‘He does, but he’s here for a month. He’s one of the major sponsors for the exhibition. I was going to tell you, but didn’t know how to broach the subject.’ She let out a despondent breath and continued, ‘Stacey gate-crashed my function the other night and of all people happened to choose Damon Latousakis’s wallet to steal.’

      ‘Oh, no…’ Caroline gave her a concerned look. ‘Are you going to tell him about Emily?’

      ‘If you had asked me that a couple of days ago I would have said a resounding no…but now I’m not so sure.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘I didn’t think he deserved to know after the way he treated me back then. He refused to believe me when I told him I suspected I was pregnant. I called him several times when I found out I knew for sure but he hung up on me every time. I tried writing to him but the letters came back unopened. I even emailed him but