surprises you?’
‘Did you tell her who you are?’
‘Yes. But she already knew. I could see it in her face. I had the feeling she knew quite a lot about me. You didn’t tell her?’
‘No.’
‘Well, she knows everything,’ Mandy insisted. ‘Trust me on this.’
His mother, he realised with a groan. Yesterday. Or possibly earlier. He shook his head in amazement. ‘She never said a word.’
‘Women in love will do anything not to upset their man.’
Justin stared at her. Was she right? Did Rachel love him? Dear God, he hoped so.
‘Did I tell you how fantastic you’re looking, Justin? How handsome? How sexy? I’m a fool. I know I’m a fool. But my fate is sealed, my darling. Just remember…I loved you once.’ She uncrossed her legs and stood up abruptly. ‘Marry your Rachel, Justin. Marry her and have children and be happy. I must go,’ she added when her eyes filled again. ‘I have a plane to catch.’
She was gone as quickly as she’d come, leaving Justin sitting there, staring after an empty doorway. When Rachel filled that doorway he blinked, then saw how worried she was looking.
‘It’s all right,’ he said reassuringly. ‘She’s gone. For good.’
‘But is she really gone for good, Justin?’
He rose, realising that was why Mandy had come. To set him free; free to love again. She’d taken time out from her not-so-good life to do a really good thing.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes, she’s really gone. For good.’
By the time he reached Rachel, she was crying. His heart turned over as he realised she had loved him all along. He drew her into his arms and held her close.
‘We’re going to get married, Rachel,’ he whispered against her hair. ‘We’re going to work together, buy a home together and have children together. Oh, and one more thing. I love you, Rachel. More than I have ever loved before. Much, much more.’
Two months later, Carl Toombs’ yacht was lost in a hurricane near the Bahamas. All on board perished.
Ten months later Justin and Rachel were married, with Rafe as best man and Isabel as matron of honour. Alice minded Isabel’s newborn daughter during the ceremony and the baby didn’t make a peep. Alice was duly voted by the wedding party as chief babysitter for all their future children and ordered never to sell her large home with its large back yard.
She didn’t. And Alice’s home was regularly filled with love and laughter for many years to come.
Miranda Lee
‘SO WHAT would you like in your Christmas stocking, Jessie? I’m going present shopping tomorrow. There’s only just over two weeks till Christmas and I hate leaving things to the last moment.’
Jessie stopped applying her mascara for a second to smile wryly across the kitchen table at her elderly friend—and landlady.
‘Do you know a shop which sells men?’ she asked with a mischievous sparkle in her dark brown eyes.
Dora’s own eyes widened. ‘Men? You told me just ten minutes ago that you thought most men were sleazebags and you were better off without one in your life.’
Jessie shrugged. ‘That was ten minutes ago. Getting myself dolled up like this tonight reminded me of when I was young and carefree and didn’t know the truth about the opposite sex. What I wouldn’t give to be that girl again, just for one night, going out with some gorgeous guy on a hot date.’
‘And if that fantasy came true,’ Dora asked, still with a sceptical expression on her face, ‘where would this gorgeous guy be taking you?’
‘Oh, somewhere really swish for drinks and dinner, then on to a nightclub for some dirty dancing.’ After which he’d whip me back to his bachelor pad and…
This last thought startled Jessie. In all honesty, ever since she’d had Emily, she hadn’t missed men one bit. Hadn’t felt like being with one at all.
Now, suddenly, the thought of having some gorgeous guy’s arms around her again was quite pleasurable. More than pleasurable, actually. Almost a necessity.
Her female hormones, it seemed, had finally been jump-started again.
Her sigh carried a measure of frustration. And irritation. It was something she could do without. Men complicated things. They always did.
Useless creatures, all of them.
Except in that one department!
Now that her hormones were hopping again, she had to admit there was nothing to compare with the pleasure of being with a man who was a good lover.
Emily’s father had been pretty good in bed. But he’d also been a feckless, reckless fool whose wildly adventurous spirit had finally been the death of him, snowboarding his stupid way off a mountain and into a crevasse even before Jessie had discovered she was having his baby.
Jessie had finally come to realise at the wise old age of twenty-eight that the members of the opposite sex who were good in bed were rarely good at commitment. Usually, they were charming scoundrels. She suspected that even if Lyall had lived, he would not have stuck by her and his baby.
No, she was better off without men in her life, in any capacity. For now, anyway. Emily was still only four and very impressionable. The last thing she needed was for her mummy to start dating guys who were only interested in one thing. There was no future in that. And no happiness.
Men could indulge in no-strings sex without suffering any lasting emotional damage. Women, not so easily.
Jessie had taken a long time to get over Lyall, both his death and the discovery she’d made afterwards that she hadn’t been the only girl in his life.
‘What I really want for Christmas more than anything,’ she said firmly as she packed her make-up essentials into her black evening bag, ‘is a decent job in an advertising agency.’
Jessie had worked as a graphic artist before she’d fallen pregnant, with an eye to eventually being promoted to the position of creative designer. She hadn’t wanted to spend the rest of her life bringing other people’s ideas to life; or having them take the credit when she improved on their designs. Jessie knew she had considerable creative talent and dreamt of heading her own advertising team one day; being up close and personal when the presentations were made; getting the accolades herself—plus the bonuses—when she secured a prestigious account for Jackson & Phelps.
That was the advertising agency
