It Happened in Sydney: In the Australian Billionaire's Arms / Three Times A Bridesmaid... / Expecting Miracle Twins

Stand still. You could be looking at pandemonium here.

Sonya obeyed her inner voice. “I really think you can say whatever it is you want to say right here, Paula.” The blue glitter of the water was all around them. A fairly strong breeze was blowing in, whipping at Sonya’s silk scarf. “Is something the matter?”

Paula pealed another laugh. There they were, the two of them enjoying a jolly time. “You’re becoming too friendly with Holt.” Paula came right to the point, her voice pitched low, but her eyes brimming with strong emotion. “I’ll go a step further. I believe you’re deliberately trying to take him off me.”

Some imp of mischief made her say, “I wish!” Unwise.

“Then you are?” Paula showed her outrage.

“I’m joking, Paula. Just a little joke.” Sonya backed off. “Look, why don’t you speak to David about your concerns?”

“David? David!” Paula sounded almost violent. “His name is Holt.”

“Surely that’s a nickname he was given as a child?” Sonya said. “I like David better.”

“You like!” Paula’s voice had turned into a croak. “Most people call him Holt. His mother is—”

“I know, the Holt heiress.” Sonya nodded calmly. “I suppose if I did a quick whip around I’d find you’re all staggeringly rich.”

“Indeed we are!” Paula’s face registered contempt. “And you the florist!”

“Is that meant to downgrade me? You merely sound a snob. I’m a very good florist as it happens. You can order over the phone. In fact, if you’re looking for work in very pleasant surroundings, I might be able to put some your way. I understand you don’t have a job.” She was beyond anger. She just wanted to get away from this jealous young woman.

It took a decided wrench to get her arm back, though she tried not to make it obvious to anyone who might be watching. Her back to the pool, she didn’t realize she was now standing too close to the edge. Paula kept her eyes so fixed on her, she might have been attempting hypnosis.

“The big difference between you and me, Ms Erickson, is I don’t have to work. You envy me. I know you do. I can’t blame you. I’ve got everything you want. Everything you’ll never get.” She spoke quite threateningly. “Remember, I’m watching you.”

From long practice, Sonya was able to keep a rein on her own temper. “Do you suppose that bothers me?” she asked coolly.

Colour mottled Paula’s cheeks. “It should! I’m in a position to make things go rather badly for you.”

“I’m supposed to take that as a threat?”

“Take it any way you like,” Paula said sharply. “Doesn’t it make you happy you’ve got poor old Marcus wrapped around your little finger?”

“Happy? It makes me ecstatic.” Sonya felt reduced to black humour. “Is that want you want to hear?”

Paula sucked in her breath, looking aghast. “So you admit it! I think it’s absolutely loathsome what you’re doing. You’re nothing but a gold-digger.”

“You should stop listening to gossip, Paula. And might I remind you I’m a guest here, just like you.” How did she get rid of this woman? She was fully aware she was looking into the face of raw jealousy. Jealousy was a malignancy. It ate into the soul. “Do you think we might call a truce here and now, Paula?” she suggested, in a conciliatory voice. “You surely can’t want a scene? You’ll be upsetting Lady Palmerston.”

“Like you’re not?” Paula challenged, fiercely affronted by the suggestion they were equals. “Rowena and Holt are right onto you. That’s why you’ve been invited. So they can keep an eye on you. Holt told me. He tells me everything. We all know who’s doing the upsetting.” Paula stepped nearer. Oddly there was a smile on her face.

A warning should have lit up like a neon sign. Sonya knew in an instant she had backed up dangerously close to the edge of the pool. But the speed with which she pitched backwards into the water stunned her. Gulps of it went down her throat. The pool water was surprisingly cold, to her shocked body near freezing. It closed over her head, locking her in its shining blue depths. The impact drained her whole body of strength. Panic flooded into her brain. She was flailing helplessly.

Her inner voice kicked in, giving her orders.

Lift up your arms. Kick your legs. Stroke upwards. Come on. You can do it.

She felt her sandals slide off her feet. Her clothes, even her long hair, were holding her down. With a huge effort she shot to the surface, water streaming off her head. She had time to catch an agonised half-breath, then she went down again, her heart pounding. This time she had the sense to clamp her mouth shut.

The embarrassing part was, she couldn’t swim. How humiliating was that? She had never learned like any four-year-old Australian child how to swim.

Poolside, Paula, in tears now, was screaming for help. Sonya could hear the scream reverberating underwater. Paula hadn’t pushed her. Paula hadn’t touched her. Paula had simply manoeuvred her nearer the edge. Her high heels and loss of balance had done the rest. She couldn’t possibly drown. There were too many people around. Anyone who said the drowning process was euphoric had it all wrong.

Next thing she knew a solid body was in the water with her. A strong arm arced out and grabbed her. The arm easily reeled her in. She clung to her rescuer, barely seeing him with the water in her eyes. But she knew who it was even before their heads hit the surface.

David.

Her chin was at water level.

“Spit it out. Spit the water out,” he ordered, gripping her tight. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

She did as she was told.

“Good girl. You’ll be fine now.”

“Oh, my God!” She couldn’t help herself. She moaned. Other guests crossed her vision. All wore anxious faces. No one was laughing.

“It’s all right, Sonya,” David assured her. “You can’t swim?”

Instead of answering his question she found herself saying quite tartly, “I wasn’t planning on going in the water.”

His smile flashed. “Good. You sound more like yourself.”

A young man called Raymond, who had been very attentive to Sonya during the afternoon, crouched over, reaching out an arm. “I’ll take her from here, Holt.”

“Thanks, Ray.”

While Raymond and another young man hauled Sonya out of the water, Holt dived to the bottom of the pool to retrieve Sonya’s high-heeled sandals. Then when he surfaced he passed them to a distressed Rowena while he heaved himself out. He had rid himself of his own shoes before taking his unscheduled dive.

Rowena and Marcus were on hand, both looking upset, holding up towelling robes. One pink. One navy. “Here, dear girl, put this on,” Rowena urged, holding out the pink robe with such kindness tears sprang to Sonya’s eyes. Marcus was busy helping his nephew into the navy robe, which David used to towel over his water-sleeked dark head.

“Come into the house,” Rowena bid Sonya quietly. “We’ll get you dry.”

Sonya began apologizing. “I’m so sorry for spoiling such a lovely day, Lady Palmerston. I was standing too near the edge. I slipped. I can’t swim unfortunately.”

“I’ll teach you,” Ray called out with enthusiasm. Even sopping, Sonya looked glorious. A real erotic turn-on. The silk shirt was plastered to her high breasts, revealing peaked nipples and darkish pink aureole.

“Poor old you!” Camilla moved in closer to rub Sonya’s back consolingly. “But look at it this way. You’re not the first person to take an unexpected header into that pool. Paula should have known better. Where is she anyway?” Camilla turned her glossy head.

“I expect she’s upset,” Sonya heard herself saying, modestly pulling her soaked shirt away from her breasts.

“Like we all care!” Camilla whispered in Sonya’s ear. “Want me to come with you?”

Sonya tried a smile. “Thanks, Camilla, but I’ll be fine once I’m out of these wet things.”

Inside the house Marcus studied Sonya very intently. “I do so wish that hadn’t happened to you, my dear. You slipped?”