A Christmas Seduction. AMANDA BROWNING
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“Do you expect an apology?”
He was so blatant in his judgment, she had to laugh. “I wouldn’t hold my breath.”
Quinn nodded and smiled to himself, then took her completely by surprise. One long-fingered hand reached out to cup her chin. Her eyes widened as danger signals went off in her head, urging her to move.
But he outmaneuvered her, and instead of brushing his hand away, her fingers closed about his wrist and held on as a delicious, tingling warmth began to expand from the spot. Her brain seemed to grow sluggish, and her eyelids grew so heavy, it took all her energy to stop them from closing. They fluttered. “You’re very good,” he said quietly, and it took a second or two for his meaning to sink in.
Discovering a talent for acting she had previously been unaware of, Laura pulled away. “If you aren’t going to buy, don’t touch the merchandise!”
AMANDA BROWNING still lives in the Essex house where she was born. The third daughter of four children—her sister being her twin—she enjoyed the rough-and-tumble of life with two brothers as much as she did reading books. Writing came naturally as an outlet for a fertile imagination. The love of books led her to a career in libraries, and being single allowed her to take the leap into writing for a living. Success is still something of a wonder, but allows her to indulge in hobbies as varied as embroidery and birdwatching.
A Christmas Seduction
Amanda Browning
From the moment Laura Maclane met Quinn Mannion, a state of war would exist between them. Not that she knew it that rain-lashed Friday night, as she paid off the taxi and made a dash for the door of the building where Jonathan Ames had his law practice. Jonathan had been Alexander Harrington’s lawyer and was the only living soul, apart from herself, who knew about his relationship with her mother, and her own relationship to him. The world at large was still speculating about it but, as yet, nobody had come close to the truth, which was that she was Alexander Harrington’s natural daughter.
Laura had never known her father’s name. She had had no idea who he was until her mother had died of cancer, leaving instructions that Laura was to inform Alexander Harrington of her death. He had realised at once who she was, but his quite understandable shock had quickly been surpassed by his obvious pleasure. It had been Laura herself who had doubted his claim to parentage, but a blood test had proved he was right. She had the same rare blood group as himself. She was his daughter.
She had known very little about the affair which had brought about her existence. Her mother had never revealed any details. From Alexander she had learned that he and her mother had met at university and fallen in love. They had lived together for a while, but then Alexander’s father had died and he had had to return home. There had been problems, and one thing had led to another. He never did go back, and had never seen her mother again. She, for whatever reason, had kept her pregnancy to herself. He had married and raised a family, never knowing he had another child.
Blame was not something Alexander had cared to apportion. He had accepted that he had treated her mother badly, and that withholding knowledge of his child had been her revenge. Fault lay on both sides, but it was in the past. He knew about his daughter now, and he was determined to make up for lost time.
They had spent as much time as they could together over the next few months, getting to know each other. Alexander’s wealth and position in life had taken some getting used to, but not for a second had she been envious of it. If she envied anything at all, it was the family she did not know. She had never pushed him to introduce her to her half-brother and sister, though she longed to meet them. Being an only child had been very lonely at times. Alexander, however, had been determined that she should become part of the family one day. The difficulty was telling his wife. She was unaware of her husband’s brief affair almost thirty years ago. It was bound to come as a shock, and he wanted to minimise it because Maxine Harrington had a serious heart problem. He would have to pick his time carefully.
Until then they had tried to be discreet, but somehow the ever vigilant press had found out about their meetings. The next thing Laura had known, her picture had appeared in the society gossip columns above a caption asking who was this woman who was constantly seen with the wealthy financier Alexander Harrington? Speculation had been rife. Knowing it would only be a matter of time before somebody actually claimed they must be lovers, Alexander had decided he must act. However, before he had been able to put the facts right, he had suffered a massive stroke from which he’d never recovered. He had died a few days later, at the age of fifty-one.
That might have been the end of it, except for Alexander’s will. Laura had been astounded to discover that