The Father Of Her Child

“Next week. Wednesday.”

“You’ve drummed up a lot of interest in him.”

“Good subject.”

“He’s a nice guy.”

“Very likeable,” Lauren agreed warmly. “I think he’ll come over well. I hope you’ve got good supplies of his books in the shops, Graham.”

“Best-seller status.”

“Great!”

He shot her a curious look. “Is Evan Daniel your kind of guy, Lauren?”

“Why do you ask?” she returned teasingly, aware there was considerable speculation about her love life amongst Global’s staff.

Graham shrugged. “I know you date occasionally but you don’t stick with anyone for long.”

“It’s difficult to maintain a relationship in my kind of job.”

“I notice you shy off really good-looking guys.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. And that’s odd for a good-looking girl like you.”

“Maybe I want more than what’s on the surface.”

“That’s why I asked about Evan.”

“He’s married, Graham.”

“That doesn’t seem to stop anyone these days,” he observed dryly.

“His wife is pregnant. Do you think I’d respect a man who played around when his wife is expecting his baby?”

“Ah, respect! Yes, there has to be respect.” He nodded sagely, then threw her a smile of approval. “I’ve got to hand it to you, Lauren. You’ve got your head on straight.”

She hoped so. She’d certainly lost her head completely over Wayne. He was so handsome he’d melt most women in their shoes. And he had a body to drool over. Pure pin-up material. Her chemistry had led her badly astray, and that was something to be wary of. Graham was very perceptive. She did shy off good-looking guys.

Maybe, Lauren reflected, that wasn’t being fair. One shouldn’t make generalisations from one bad experience. She resolved to give the next really attractive man who showed an interest in her at least half a chance to show he had some decent substance, too.

They drove past the marina at Rose Bay and through the gateway to the park where the Salamander Restaurant held a prime position on the shoreline. Global was holding its launching party in real style. Lauren felt a bright lilt of anticipation. Perhaps tonight she would meet someone interesting, a stranger across a crowded room.

She grinned.

Did hope never die?

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_bdd7fe64-894a-5bcf-89c6-37b7e0469b77)

LAUREN saw him arrive-the stranger.

She didn’t know why her gaze was drawn to the restaurant foyer at that particular moment. She was out on the deck overlooking the bay, chatting with a small circle of associates. People were milling around in the dining room, which had been cleared of its normal furniture for freedom of movement. For some reason the groups of guests had shifted, leaving an unobscured channel of vision. And there he was.

It gave Lauren a weird feeling, as though she had conjured him up herself, somehow waving a mental magic wand, making the people part, and there in the spotlight-one tall, dark, handsome stranger. But the illusion was incomplete. His eyes didn’t meet hers. He didn’t even glance her way. His attention was directed to his companions. He was smiling, a warm, kindly, reassuring kind of smile.

“Lauren, what did you think of.?”

It took an act of will to draw her gaze to her companions and focus her mind on what was being said. She gave her opinion on the question directed at her and tossed the conversational ball into the general ring, disinterested in pursuing a discussion.

People had moved when she looked again. She surreptitiously changed her position, scanning the crowd in an idle manner, half wondering at herself that she felt so drawn to find him, place him. Hadn’t she told herself a thousand times it was the person inside who really counted, not superficial attraction?

It was the smile, she decided. She’d liked his smile. A smile could say a lot about the inner person. She was curious about him. That was perfectly natural.

She spotted him in a group she quickly identified. Evan Daniel was talking to his editor, Beth Hayward. The pretty blonde between Evan and the stranger was probably Evan’s wife, Tasha. She had a proprietal air as she watched him speak. My husband, it said, with pride and pleasure.

The stranger bent and whispered something in the blonde’s ear. She nodded and threw him a grateful look. He moved away. Lauren followed his progress across the room to a set of glass doors that opened to the other end of the deck from where she stood. He didn’t look around him as most people did, seeking familiar faces, ready to greet or respond. From the moment he set off alone, his face wore a closed, forbidding look.

Lauren was intrigued. It was a total shutdown of charm. He exuded an air of single-minded purpose. Not a party animal, she concluded, more a man with a mission. She wondered why he was here this evening and what he intended to achieve.

His classy, dark grey suit had the stamp of a conservative professional, as did his shirt and neatly styled black hair. In contrast to that image, a blue shirt and a brightly patterned silk tie made a vivid splash of individualism that denied any easy pigeonholing of this man.

His face was pleasingly proportioned, cleanly chiseled, unmistakably male, although a full-lipped mouth softened and sensualised it. Another interesting and endearing feature was surprisingly small and neat ears. His eyebrows were straight, with a slightly downward slant. It was impossible to discern eye colour at this distance, but Lauren decided it would probably be brown. Dark chocolate. She loved dark chocolate.

He stepped onto the deck. He didn’t glance in her direction or pause to admire the spectacular view of the harbourside around the bay. He headed straight to where tables and chairs were stacked in the far corner. With brisk economy of movement he separated a small table and two chairs, then took them inside, choosing to set them against the glass wall in a protected alcove beside a serving bench.

It was interesting to watch the animation of his face as he returned to Evan and Tasha Daniel, breaking into their chat with Beth Hayward to usher them all over to the place he had prepared for them. As they moved, Lauren saw how heavily pregnant Evan’s wife was and realised it was her comfort that was the stranger’s prime consideration.

A thoughtful, caring man. Also a man of action. As soon as Tasha Daniel was settled on a chair, he signalled one of the waiters over to offer his tray of drinks. He selected champagne for Tasha but took orange juice for himself. A non-drinker, Lauren speculated, or a man bent on keeping all his wits about him? It would be interesting to know his connection to Evan and Tasha Daniel.

Lauren waited until Beth Hayward took her leave of them, then went straight into action, intent on having her curiosity satisfied. With the ready excuse of having to see an author, she moved inside and collected two of the gift presentation packs from the display table. Armed with these to sweeten the introduction to Evan’s wife and their friend, she headed across the room to them.

Evan saw her coming. His genial face broke into a welcoming smile. He spoke to his wife, clearly identifying Lauren for her, and Tasha Daniel’s gaze zeroed in on the woman who would be taking her husband on a promotional tour. Shock was the first reaction. Lauren could almost see, Her? flashing into Tasha’s mind, surrounded by neon-red lights zigzagging danger signals.

She’d met the reaction before and hoped to defuse it quickly. Few women liked the idea of having Lauren look after their men. She was too vividly female, almost spectacularly so with the contrast of pearly pale skin, copper-red hair and cornflower-blue eyes. But she was not a predatory rival for their affections. Usually she managed to project that, given a few minutes in their company.

After leaving Wayne, she had gone through a period of downplaying her physical attributes, covering up her figure, wearing no make-up, even having her red curls cropped to within an inch of her scalp and dying her hair brown, hating the idea of any man seeing her only as an ornamental possession.

Eventually she had realised she was damaging herself, feeding fears and repressing her natural exuberance for life and all its joys. It was much better to simply maintain a balanced sense of selfworth and let the rest of the world sort itself out.

Lauren felt the stranger watch her approach, too. Maybe it was only the effect of her heightened awareness of him, but she was conscious of all her sensory levels rising, sharpening, as though she was moving into a highly dangerous zone. Suddenly she felt wary of him, reluctant to pursue the interest he had sparked in her.

A spurious, fantasy interest, she told herself, bound to bring disappointment. Now that she was so close, it was silly not to look and assess the man more directly, yet some deeply protective instinct tugged on her mind, wanting to shun the influence he had already unwittingly exerted on her. She switched on a bright smile for Evan Daniel and his wife, but didn’t include the stranger in its warm sweep. He was, after all, a stranger.

“Hi, there!” she greeted them with casual friendliness. “I collected these souvenirs for you before they’re all taken.”

“I didn’t realise they were being given away,” Evan remarked in surprise. “Thanks, Lauren. Good of you to think of it.” He turned quickly to his wife, who began to struggle up from her chair. “This is Tasha. Lauren Magee, Tasha.”