Anne Mather

An Elusive Desire


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       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 [email protected] and I’d be happy to hear from any of my wonderful readers.

      An Elusive Desire

       Anne Mather

      

www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Table of Contents

       Cover

       About the Author

       Title Page

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       Copyright

       CHAPTER ONE

      JAIME was in a meeting when the call came through, and her secretary, Diane Stephens, was obviously very chary about disturbing her.

      ‘It’s a Signora di Vaggio, Miss Forster,’ she explained, with evident reluctance. ‘She says she’s an old friend of yours, and it’s imperative that she speaks with you.’

      ‘Signora di Vaggio?’ With the participants at the meeting waiting impatiently for her to deal with the interruption and return to their discussions, Jaime’s mind was briefly blank. She didn’t know anyone called Signora di Vaggio. Diane must have got it wrong. ‘I’m afraid—–’

      ‘She sounds very upset, Miss Forster.’ Diane lowered her voice perceptibly. ‘I wouldn’t have troubled you, but I think you ought to take the call. She says she wrote to you and—–’

      ‘Nicola!’ The name broke from Jaime’s lips as comprehension of what Diane was saying brought a swift understanding. Nicola di Vaggio! She was so used to thinking of her as Nicola Temple, even the use of Rafaello’s name had not immediately registered. After all, it was more than five years since she had heard from her, and the letter which had arrived a week ago was still largely unread.

      ‘You will speak to her, Miss Forster?’

      Diane was gazing anxiously at her, and aware of the growing impatience of her colleagues, Jaime was tempted to refuse. But if Nicola had put a call through from Italy, something serious must be wrong, and in deference to the friendship they had once shared, Jaime rose to her feet.

      ‘If you’ll excuse me for a few moments, gentlemen,’ she offered apologetically, and ignoring Graham Aiken’s pointed stare, she followed Diane out of the room.

      Her office was just along the corridor, next door to Martin Longman’s, the managing director of Helena Holt Cosmetics. It was the obvious place for the office of his personal assistant to be, and Jaime had fought hard to gain her present position.

      ‘I’m sorry, Miss Forster,’ said Diane, as Jaime shortened her stride to fit that of her secretary. ‘But she sounded so distressed, I didn’t know what to do.’

      ‘That’s all right, Diane.’ Jaime smiled to reassure her. ‘You were right to tell me. Signora di Vaggio and I are old friends.’

      Diane looked relieved, and when they reached her office she slipped efficiently into her seat, preparing to switch the call through to Jaime’s inner sanctum. With the door closed behind her, Jaime crossed her office with a sudden ripple of apprehension, lifting the cream receiver cautiously before acknowledging her presence.

      ‘Jaime? Jaime, is that you? Oh, thank heavens!’ The voice at the other end of the line held a distinctly hysterical note. ‘Why didn’t you answer my letter? Why are you never at home when I phone? I’ve been trying to reach you for days!’

      ‘Nicola? Nicola, calm down.’ Jaime was disturbed by the hysteria in the other girl’s voice. ‘I’m here now—you’re speaking to me. What can be so desperate that you found it necessary to ring me at work?’

      ‘At work!’ Nicola’s voice sounded suspiciously near to breaking. ‘When are you ever anywhere else? I’ve phoned your apartment four times, and every time that damn housekeeper of yours has answered.’

      ‘Mrs Purdom?’ Jaime frowned. ‘So it’s you who’s been calling. Why didn’t you give your name? Mrs Purdom was becoming convinced a gang of thieves was planning a robbery, and you were phoning to find out if I was home.’

      ‘Oh, Jaime!’ Nicola sniffed. ‘I couldn’t give my name—I didn’t want you phoning here and speaking to Raf.’

      ‘Really?’ Jaime’s fingers tightened round the receiver.

      ‘Oh, not because of that.’ Nicola made an impatient sound. ‘I’ve got over all that. It’s just—well, I don’t want him to know I’ve called you. At least, not until it’s necessary.’

      ‘Nicola, what are you talking