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

It turned out to be a relaxing day spent in total luxury. A superb seafood lunch was served on the glass-topped oak table accented in ebony in the dining saloon. Afterwards they adjoined to the aft deck with its comfortable arrangements of chairs and wide teak table that held a low black bowl filled with pink and yellow hibiscus.

“You look happy.” Marcus spoke in such a deep tender voice it was a clear giveaway. Sonya was wearing navy jeans with a navy and white T-shirt, white sneakers on her feet. A casual outfit on a beautiful young woman with a willowy body. She could have earned a fortune modelling clothes. Apparently that held little allure for her. She was seemingly content in her world of flowers.

Sonya turned her head lazily. “I am. You’re lovely company, Marcus. Thank you so much for asking me.”

“I want to do everything you want, Sonya,” he announced, in a fervent voice. “And I want to do it now. I know you don’t love me. I couldn’t ask for that, but you are fond of me?”

Sonya sat straight, her heart thudding. This was an opportunity most women would give their eye teeth for. Only she wasn’t at all sure she was one of them. It wasn’t an everyday event to be proposed to by a millionaire. Some would be ecstatic. Only she had developed a taste of passion, shameful though the memory was. Affection was at the heart of her very real feelings for Marcus. Never passion.

Shove all thoughts of David Wainwright from your mind. Do it now,her inner voice instructed.

Marilyn Rowlands had made a point of telling her she would never fit into David Wainwright’s world. In all probability she had spoken the truth. His parents would have their own ideas about their adored son’s future.

“No, let me finish,” Marcus said, sensing her perturbation. “I’m a rich man. But with no woman in my life to love, I might as well be dirt poor. I fell in love with you the instant I walked into your shop.”

“Marcus! “ She held out her hands like a supplicant, palms up. How could she hurt this gentle man? He wanted her. More importantly he could protect her if ever the time came. She knew Laszlo wouldn’t rest until he had tracked her down; made certain she wasn’t in possession of the Andrassy Madonna. She had lived with the fear he would eventually find her. He could already be closing in.

“Please listen,” Marcus begged. “You don’t talk about yourself. In my experience people who have suffered deep traumas never talk. Maybe they can’t. I know you have a story, but I’m content to wait until you’re ready to tell me about it. I don’t care what it is. I don’t care what you’ve done—if indeed you’ve done anything. I want to marry you, Sonya. I want to look after you. There is still time for me to father a child. You will want for nothing.”

Except passionate love.

Is that so bad? Don’t you read the headlines, girl? Celebrities passionately in love one moment suddenly spitting venom and selling their stories to the magazines. They move on to someone else to fuel their tank. I ask you, what is love? Where does the love go?

“You don’t have to answer me now. I can see I’ve stunned you. You can have all the time you want.”

She had to control a desire to weep. “Marcus, you’ve honoured me.” At the same time she couldn’t help thinking maybe what he really wanted was a daughter. This man was terribly lonely.

Marcus must have guessed her thoughts. “Sonya, I love you as a woman,” he said. “A beautiful, gifted woman, and most hopefully the mother of our child. You needn’t fear I couldn’t give you a child. My poor little Lucy couldn’t get pregnant. She was never strong. Lucy would want me to be happy. She was the sweetest human being.”

All sorts of emotions tugged at her. She had to remember what her life had been. Marcus could change all that. She spoke earnestly. “Marcus, your family might very well see me as an opportunist. You’re a rich man. You’re years older than I am. They would question that.”

“Let them!” he said scornfully. “As long as you don’t question it. I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks. I’m in love with you. I don’t even care David has his concerns. That’s how much I want you.”

So David, traitor, has spoken of his concerns!

“No Wainwright has power over me, Sonya,” Marcus said firmly. “You, however, do.”

Say something. Say something. Silence will give him hope.

He reached for her hand. “If you marry me I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe and happy. That, I swear.”

It was an enormously touching moment. Would it be so terrible to marry Marcus?

Give yourself time to think. Marcus Wainwright is a good man. How many of them are about?

Days passed. She was kept very busy in the shop. She had an assistant, a single mother with two children, aged seven and nine, who did part-time work that fitted in with her mothering schedule. Penny had received some training in a suburban flower shop. She was very good with the customers, efficient at what she did and if she lacked a certain imagination it didn’t matter all that much to Sonya, who could always do a bit of tweaking. As a single mother Penny needed the work. Sonya had been happy to give it to her.

Midweek Marcus took her out to dinner in one of those restaurants where the price list would give the average person a heart attack. And that didn’t include the hefty tip. Marcus looked very handsome in his professorial fashion, his face radiating his pleasure and pride in her company.

His high spirits would have been apparent to all who gave him a little friendly wave as they passed, or those who bent closer over the table to make a comment, most probably acid.

The longer this goes on, the harder it gets. For you and him. You owe him an answer. You have to make up your mind what it’s going to be.

The whole situation, so jubilant to Marcus, was weighing heavily on her mind.

The entrée, a selection of teeny morsels, delicious enough, but served in what was nearly a platter. It seemed to her ridiculously pretentious. She reached for her wine glass, noticing at that moment the maître d’ showing a tall, stunningly handsome man and his extremely pretty companion to a table. Her decision was made for her.

It has to be a no. Of course it has to be a no. Married to a man you do not love with the prospect of seeing the man you’re so powerfully drawn to on every family occasion. Sheer madness!

“Good Lord, it’s David!” Marcus was saying delightedly as he stood up to attract his nephew’s attention. “David!” he called. “He has Emma Courtney with him, Sonya. Lovely girl, Emma. She’s nuts about him, as the saying goes. I should know. I’m nuts about you.” He laughed, colour in his lean cheeks. “I’ll introduce you.”

It was the very last thing Sonya wanted. She sat back, desperate to achieve some semblance of calm.

David Wainwright will marry a young woman much like the one he’s out with tonight.

Get that through your head.

His hand at Emma’s elbow, Holt led the way to his uncle’s table. The shock of seeing her again was as painful, as piercing as an arrow shot straight to the heart.

You fool!

His warning voice kicked in, determined on giving him hell. She was wearing the standard little black dress but her radiant beauty and her colouring made the dress look as if it were worth every last cent of a million dollars. Marcus was beaming with pride. It was obvious he would do anything for her. Lay down his life if need be. Not only was she far and away the most beautiful woman in the room, she was highly intelligent. If she was after position and security, a half-share of Marcus’s money, it was as good as in her hand. From a florist shop to chatelaine of one of the most beautiful houses in a city full of beautiful houses. Money beyond her wildest dreams would be at her disposal. For all he knew the wedding date had already been set.

He had to bring all his concentration to bear just on saying hello.

Marcus gripped his shoulder. “What a surprise to see you, David. How are you, Emma? You look lovely as usual.” Marcus moved a pace to kiss Emma’s cheek. She was a true redhead with lovely bright blue eyes.

“Sonya.” Holt acknowledged her with a slight bow. She gave him a cool smile.

Still playing the aristocrat for all she was worth. It was a sterling performance. He had to give her that. “I’d like you to meet a friend of mine, Emma Courtney. Emma, Sonya Erickson.” He made the introduction.

Emma rated a real smile. It lit up Sonya’s beautiful face like the sun sparkling off ice. “Nice to meet you, Emma.”

“You too, Sonya. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Emma was looking at Sonya with open admiration.

“I take it David is the one giving the information?” Sonya kept the smile on her face.

“All good things.” Emma gave a tiny triangular smile. It could have meant she’d had a few words with others, like Paula Rowlands, whom she no doubt knew.

A pleasantry or two more and they moved off. Emma glanced back and gave a little friendly wave.

“Lovely girl!” Marcus enthused, sitting down again. “I’m so glad David isn’t serious about Paula. You have to be careful with those Rowlands women. Though I have to say Paula can be extremely nice when the mood takes her. Emma had better look out. Paula has always been wildly jealous of anyone who even looked sideways at David.”

Tell me about it.

“Then she has a battle on her hands. Every woman in the room looked up the moment he walked in.”

“You too?” Marcus shot her a quick intent look.