Prelude To Enchantment

Prelude To Enchantment
Anne Mather

Mills & Boon are excited to present The Anne Mather Collection – the complete works by this classic author made available to download for the very first time! These books span six decades of a phenomenal writing career, and every story is available to read unedited and untouched from their original release.An assignment with an Italian Count!Sancha Forrest was thrilled with her assignment to go to Sicily to interview the famous author, Cesare Alberto Venturo, Conte di Malatesta.Entering his palazzo was like stepping into the Renaissance - its poverty stricken appearance at odds with his success. The Conte himself was dynamite, Sancha soon realised and she couldn’t deny she had the same effect on him.But the truth was Cesare needed to marry money. With the glamorous, fabulously rich Janine Rumien in the picture, how could Sancha hope to compete?

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 mystic-am@msn.com (mailto:mystic-am@msn.com) and I’d be happy to hear from any of my wonderful readers.

Prelude to Enchantment

Anne Mather

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Table of Contents

Cover (#udcd5fabb-9928-5a86-af70-2a3a85068421)

About the Author (#u40b3d5ec-e7ad-5d39-a5ab-11c04ed7fa8d)

Title Page (#u334dd290-fe32-55cf-8b05-acdc151eaa8d)

CHAPTER ONE (#u5e7193ff-e64f-5e11-9ef0-1b7dfe750a9c)

CHAPTER TWO (#u67b2c7bf-5d0b-5def-a8a5-778921c10450)

CHAPTER THREE (#u4728222e-fbec-5017-ae41-db0d1709d7e2)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_a77d8a4f-b904-5f71-aaea-4d7c2570b950)

THE Palazzo Malatesta stood in all its crumbling magnificence overlooking the narrow waterway which was its main link with the rest of the city. Beyond this quiet backwater flowed the busy reaches of the Grand Canal where private and public craft alike provided an ever-changing parade of colour, and where every few yards some splendid remnant of Venice's turbulent history could be seen.

The palazzo itself retained a certain majesty that no amount of decay could entirely destroy. A patina of years had filmed its stone walls and cast a glazing of green across its gilded loggia and on the proudly raised head of the bronze griffin which guarded its entrance. Curled poles supported a stone landing stage in front of the palazzo beside which a motor launch gleamed incongruously.

To Sancha Forrest, leaning on the side of the craft in which she was travelling trailing a lazy hand in the cool water, the whole building exuded an air of timelessness that was in itself slightly unnerving. How could anyone live in such a place, following the day-to-day pursuits of twentieth-century Italy, when their surroundings so obviously belonged to the age when chivalry and violence so often walked hand in hand? In this quiet quarter of the city it was incredibly easy to visualise what the palazzo must have been like then when some noble family had filled its walls with life and vitality and put to full use its halls and apartments.

Sancha sighed and the faint sound that escaped her was sufficient to attract the attention of the young man who was lounging beside her in the stern of the motoscafo. He turned to look at her with twinkling eyes, noticing the rapt expression on her young face.

‘Well?’ he said. ‘What do you think?'

Sancha withdrew her hand from the water and rubbed it dry. ‘It's very imposing,’ she answered, allowing her gaze to move upward over the façade of the building. ‘Does Count Malatesta really live here?'

Tony Braithwaite grinned. ‘You find it hard to believe?'

‘Don't you?’ Sancha shook her head. ‘It's so big! Too big for one man, surely.'

Tony shrugged. ‘I expect one day the Count hopes to share the place with a wife and family of his own. Until then …'

Sancha wrinkled her nose. ‘He's not married?'

‘No. Not yet.'

‘Then how old is he?'

‘I'm not sure. Late thirties—early forties perhaps.'