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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.
Tidewater Seduction
Anne Mather
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
IT COULDN’T be him: it shouldn’t be him; but it was. Striding towards her, across the terrace where she was having breakfast, giving every indication he had expected to find her there.
Joanna glanced, half guiltily, about her, wondering even then if she was making a mistake. Maybe he had seen someone else—some other guest. But no. She was breakfasting late, and the hotel coffee shop was almost empty, most of the other guests all too eager to acquire that all-important tan. She was the only person sitting in her corner of the terrace, her olive skin as brown now as it was ever going to get.
Uncle Charles, her father’s brother, used to say, teasingly, that she was the changeling in their otherwise so-English family. With her dark skin and silky black hair, she was nothing like her blonde and brown-haired parents. She had to be a throw-back to some scandalous liaison in the family’s history. But until her marriage to Cole Macallister she hadn’t found it a problem. Of course, that marriage, and the much-publicised divorce that had followed, had rather shaken her confidence. But, in recent months, she had managed to put the past behind her. Until this moment, she acknowledged tensely, experiencing an almost overwhelming urge to run, kicking and screaming, from a confrontation she had never thought to have to face.
Happily, she succeeded in controlling that compulsion, however, and by the time he stopped beside her table she had even contrived a faintly ironic smile. What the hell! She had nothing to be ashamed of, she assured herself tautly, crossing one long leg over the other in an unconsciously defensive gesture. She had just as much right to be here as he had.
‘Hello, Jo.’
His greeting was scarcely original, and she gained assurance from his diffidence. ‘Cole,’ she returned coolly, toying with the handle of her coffee-cup. ‘How are you?’
‘Fine.’
And he looked it, she conceded reluctantly. Even though he had never been a conventionally handsome man, the harsh planes and angles of his lean features possessed a much more potent attraction. A latent sexuality radiated from eyes as blue as amethysts, fringed by short thick lashes, several shades darker than his hair. There were rugged hollows beneath his arching cheekbones, and she knew his nose had been broken in his youth. But his mouth was what drew her gaze, thin, and hard, and masculine, yet infinitely sensual, and gentler than when she’d last seen it.
But the silvery blond hair was the same, she noticed, chiding the treacherous emotions that still found beauty in his face. Longer than was fashionable, it brushed the open collar of his chambray shirt, the fine strands upturned against his neck. He was not a man you could ever ignore, thought Joanna uneasily, though God knew she had done her best to do so for the past three years.
‘May I join you?’
The question was unexpected,
