One Passionate Night. Robyn Donald

And he’s not missing,’ Charlotte ground out bitterly. ‘He’s in LA, with his PA. His pregnant PA, the one who somehow miraculously discovered she was having Gary’s baby the same day he was supposed to be leaving to marry me!’

      ‘Aah,’ the American said knowingly.

      ‘Yes. Aaah.’

      ‘So how long has it been since you and Gary were together?’

      ‘I haven’t seen him since last June.’

      ‘That’s eight months ago!’ His shocked tone carried a none too subtle message. Eight months was too long to leave any man on his own, in his opinion.

      ‘I was faithful to him,’ Charlotte snapped.

      ‘That’s commendable. But men are not renowned for their faithfulness when their fiancées—or wives—are a world away for such an extended period of time.’

      ‘Tell me something new.’

      ‘Why were you apart for so long?’

      Charlotte sighed, then gave him a brief run-down on her romance with Gary, leaving out the fact she hadn’t been to bed with him, but including her stupidly going against Gary’s wishes and secretly planning a traditional wedding at a top Sydney hotel.

      ‘I suppose you don’t know the Regency Royale, being an American,’ she said at this point.

      ‘The name does ring a bell,’ he replied.

      ‘It’s one of the plushest hotels in Sydney. Everything there is so expensive. I should be able to cancel the suite I booked for the wedding night, but the reception is a done deal. Know anyone who might want a three-tiered wedding cake and a designer wedding gown? Not to mention a five-day prepaid package holiday up at the Hunter Valley?’

      Her father wasn’t the only one who’d wasted a small fortune.

      ‘Not at the moment. Maybe you can advertise them on the internet. You seem to be able to sell anything there.’

      Charlotte groaned. ‘Don’t talk to me about the internet.’

      ‘Just trying to be practical.’

      ‘I know what you’re thinking.’

      ‘What am I thinking?’

      ‘That internet romances are often little more than fantasies being played out by both parties. They’re not real. Our love for each other wasn’t real.’

      ‘That is a widely held opinion,’ he said.

      ‘Maybe that was the case for Gary, but it wasn’t for me. I loved him,’ Charlotte cried. ‘And I was going to marry him tomorrow.’

      But even as she proclaimed the depth and sincerity of her love for Gary, Charlotte suspected there had been more than a touch of romantic fantasy about their whole relationship. A touch of desperation on her part as well.

      Maybe it was all for the best that she wasn’t marrying Gary.

      But that didn’t make her dismay or disappointment any easier to bear.

      ‘Tomorrow is going to be the worst, most humiliating day of my life,’ she declared, then grimaced. ‘Actually no, today will probably take that prize. I’m supposed to be having lunch with my parents today, to introduce my fiancé in the flesh. I’d do anything in the world not to have to tell my father that the wedding’s off. He’s spent such a lot of money on this wedding, and he’s not a rich man. Just a farmer. I’ll pay him back, of course, but it will take me years on a hairdresser’s pay.’

      If only she hadn’t treated herself to a new car last year, or that stupid honeymoon holiday. Her savings account was less than zero, once you factored in her credit-card debt.

      With a sigh Charlotte went back to drinking the last of the coffee, her heart sinking lower than it ever had before.

      ‘Would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight?’

      Charlotte’s head shot up, blue eyes widening. ‘Are you serious?’ she said disbelievingly. ‘Haven’t you been listening? I’ve just been jilted. My heart’s been broken. The last thing I want to do is go out with another good-looking, smooth-talking American who’s out here on holiday and who’ll say and do anything to get a girl into bed!’

      ‘I’m not American, actually,’ he informed her coolly. ‘I’m Australian.’

      ‘Huh?’

      ‘I know I sound American,’ he elaborated. ‘That’s because I’ve been living and working in LA for some years. But I was born in Sydney. My mother married an American, you see, and took us there when I was just a baby. My sister, Beth, was born in the States, but we both went to school here in Australia. Beth stayed on afterwards and is now happily married to a Sydney doctor. Speak of the devil, here she is.’

      Charlotte glanced up to see a very pregnant lady waddling towards them. She was not unlike her brother in looks, being tall and striking-looking, with dark hair and eyes. At a guess, Charlotte would have put her age at around thirty, with her brother a few years older.

      ‘I see you haven’t changed, brother dear,’ she said in a decidedly Australian voice before her laughing eyes went to Charlotte. ‘Leave him alone for more than a minute and invariably he’ll zero in on the best looking girl for miles. But be warned, darling. He’s the love ’em and leave ’em type.’

      ‘Thank you for the recommendation, sister dear,’ her brother said drily as he rose to kiss his sister on the cheek. ‘I’d introduce you if I knew the lady’s name, but she forgot to mention it.’

      Charlotte decided this was her cue to escape before she did something stupid, like tell him her name and agree to go to dinner with him tonight. She’d had enough of the love ’em and leave ’em types to last her a lifetime.

      Rising to her feet, she hooked her bag over her shoulder and flashed a somewhat brittle smile at him. ‘Thanks for the coffee, but I should be going.’ And she was off in the direction of the exit, striding out as quickly as she could in her high-heeled, backless sandals.

      She should have known he would not let her get away that easily.

      ‘Wait!’ he called out, and raced after her. ‘Don’t take any notice of my sister. She was only joking.’

      She stopped and threw him a cynical glance. ‘Are you saying you’re not of the love ’em and leave ’em variety?’

      Charlotte glimpsed the flash of guilt in his eyes before he could hide it.

      ‘Right,’ she said, and went to move on again.

      ‘At least tell me your name.’

      She stopped again to stare up into his handsome face.

      Bad mistake.

      His eyes had gone back to hot and hungry. Suddenly, she wanted to tell him her name and her phone number; wanted to say yes, I’ll go out to dinner with you. But to do so would be the ultimate of foolishnesses. At thirty-three, it was time she stopped being a fool where men were concerned.

      ‘I… I don’t think so,’ she said, but unconvincingly.

      Before she could say boo, he’d whipped out a business card and Biro.

      ‘The numbers on this are irrelevant whilst I’m here,’ he said as he balanced the card in his left palm and wrote something on it. ‘But I’ll put my new mobile number on the back. Or you can call me at my sister’s place. Her name’s Beth Harvey. She’s married to Dr Vincent Harvey. He’s an orthopoedic surgeon. They live in Rose Bay and I’ll be staying with them for the next fortnight. They’re in the phone book. Call me if you change your mind,’ he said, and pressed the card into her hand. ‘You’re upset at the moment, but you know and I know that you didn’t really love that Gary guy.’

      Their