Wildest Dreams. Carole Mortimer

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must be the most attractive man she had ever seen in her life; of course there would be a woman in his life, possibly even a wife. The latter was not just a possibility; the existence of his daughter was proof of that.

      ‘Daddy, did you hear what I said?’

      ‘Of course I heard you, Emma,’ he acknowledged indulgently. ‘But can’t you see we have a guest?’ He gave a pointed look in Arabella’s direction.

      Eyes the same deep blue as her father’s suddenly became shy as the young girl looked at Arabella. ‘Sorry,’ she murmured ruefully. ‘I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but I couldn’t wait to tell Daddy my good news,’ she added determinedly.

      Arabella smiled her sympathy, remembering occasions when she had rushed home to tell her own father equally exciting news from school. Unfortunately, it had only been exciting to her, her father listening with a complete lack of interest. Although Robert Merlin didn’t look uninterested; it was just that she happened to be taking up his time at the moment.

      She smiled at the young girl. ‘I’m sure your news takes precedence over anything I have to talk to your father about,’ she assured her lightly.

      ‘What are you and Daddy talking about?’ Emma asked guilelessly, moving to perch her bottom on the side of her father’s desk.

      ‘Emma!’ her father reproved abruptly.

      Arabella couldn’t help laughing softly at the young girl’s unrepentant expression. ‘I’m from your father’s publishing company, and—’

      ‘A. Atherton?’ The deep blue eyes glowed interestedly.

      Robert Merlin sat up straighter in his chair behind his desk. ‘And exactly what do you know about A. Atherton?’ he said slowly.

      Emma grinned at Arabella, completely unabashed by her father’s grim expression. ‘Are you A. Atherton?’ she persisted. ‘I always had a feeling you might be a woman.’

      ‘And just why the hell did you feel that?’ her father demanded impatiently.

      She shrugged slender shoulders. ‘Just the tone of the letters.’

      ‘And what sort of tone might that have been?’ Robert Merlin frowned at his daughter in complete bafflement.

      The young girl grinned unconcernedly. ‘Unfailingly polite and reasoning—even when you were at your rudest!’ She gave her father a mischievously teasing look. ‘I always thought another man would have given you back as good as you gave.’

      Her father looked outraged. ‘I was never rudel’

      Emma Merlin gave Arabella a conspiratorial grit mace. ‘Oh, I think you’ll find that you were, Daddy. Although I’m sure Miss Atherton forgave you,’ she added soothingly as he still looked furious at the accusation.

      Arabella was impressed with the maturity of this young girl. And her perception! Her own father and Stephen had often been incensed by this man’s fanatical wish for privacy—as witnessed by the blundering way Stephen had tried to force his way in here two days ago! Arabella had always respected that wish for privacy, often diverting the attention of the media away from this popular author.

      It was a view her father and Stephen didn’t share. In their opinion, if Merlin wanted the glory—and the money!—his writing brought, then he also had to accept some of the negative aspects, and that included interest in his private life. To her father it wasn’t a negative aspect anyway...

      Yes, Emma was right; if Merlin’s editor had been either her father or Stephen, then he would have been handled very differently.

      ‘Of course,’ Arabella confirmed smoothly.

      Robert Merlin looked far from pleased at the slightly patronising air the two females seemed to have adopted towards him, his blue eyes flinty and cold. ‘I was not—’

      ‘Your father is such a wonderful writing talent,’ Arabella continued conversationally to Emma. ‘He could be forgiven most things.’

      ‘Except killing off Palfrey,’ Emma returned disgustedly. ‘That has to be the silliest thing—’

      ‘Emma!’ her father exploded. ‘Will you kindly shut up?’ He glared at her fiercely.

      Arabella looked from father to daughter, Emma appearing stubbornly determined in the face of her father’s anger. But it was to Robert Merlin that Arabella turned her full attention. She couldn’t have heard Emma properly.

      He couldn’t possibly be thinking of killing off Palfrey!

      CHAPTER THREE

      ‘WELL, Miss Atherton?’ Robert Merlin looked at her challengingly across the width of his desk. ‘Do you have something to say on the subject, too?’

      Something to say? If it was true, she certainly did have something to say!

      ‘You can’t be serious!’ was all she could manage at the moment. He couldn’t—could he...?

      His blue eyes remained flinty as his gaze raked across the shock that was so evident on her face. ‘I thought I was the “wonderful writing talent”, Miss Atherton?’ he finally drawled.

      ‘Y-you are.’ She spluttered the confirmation of her earlier statement. ‘But—’

      ‘Is there a “but”, Miss Atherton?’ he cut in with quiet intensity.

      The way he kept so pointedly calling her ‘Miss Atherton’ was beginning to grate on her already frayed nerves. Of course there was a ‘but’; the Palfrey series of books were the most popular to appear on the market for some time—and Robert Merlin appeared to be about to kill off his hero!

      ‘Emma.’ The author turned to his daughter with raised brows as she watched the exchange with obvious enjoyment. ‘Don’t you have some homework you should be getting on with?’

      ‘I—’

      ‘Or something?’ he added determinedly, making it obvious he felt she had said enough for one day.

      ‘Not really,’ she replied, unabashed, obviously completely secure in her relationship with her father.

      ‘Then I suggest you go and find something,’ he told her bluntly, obviously just as secure in his relationship with her!

      Emma stood up with a fluidity that would become graceful elegance as she got older. ‘OK,’ she accepted good-naturedly. ‘I’ll see you at dinner,’ she told Arabella lightly, frowning as she saw the regretful look on her face. ‘Daddy!’ She looked at him incredulously. ‘You have invited Miss Atherton to dinner?’ She sounded shocked at the possibility that he might not have done so.

      And Robert Merlin looked far from pleased at that censorious look. ‘I—’

      ‘You can’t possibly expect Miss Atherton to drive all the way back to London without even feeding her,’ the young girl admonished him. ‘After all, she came all this way just to see you.’

      Arabella could see that not only

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