at the corners of her mouth as she thought of the book in her bag. What she needed was a wickedly sexy pirate to kidnap her and not give her time to think or to worry before he ravaged her silly.
Unfortunately, that was highly unlikely to happen in this day and age. It was an exciting thought, though.
Suddenly, Violet couldn’t wait to get to the airport where she could start reading.
‘Don’t get out, Dad,’ she said once they arrived at the departure drop-off point.
‘Okay. Give us a kiss.’
Violet leant over and pecked him on the cheek. ‘Bye, Dad. Keep well.’
Twelve minutes later, Violet was sitting in the departure lounge, reading the story of Captain Strongbow and his Lady Gwendaline. By the time she boarded the plane, she was halfway through the three-hundred-and-fifty-page book, having become a speed reader over the years. By the time the jet began its descent into Mascot airport, she was on the last chapter.
The story had been pretty much as she remembered—the plot packed with action, the hero thrillingly sexy, the love scenes extremely explicit and, yes, exciting. Her heart was definitely racing once more.
There was one difference, however, which she noticed on second reading: the heroine was a much stronger character than she’d originally thought. Of course, the first time round Violet had been focusing more on the hero, who was the epitome of macho attractiveness.
On second reading, however, she saw that Lady Gwendaline wasn’t as dominated by the dashing but rather decadent Captain Strongbow as she’d imagined. She’d stood up to him all the way. When it was obvious he was going to have sex with her with or without her permission, her decision not to resist his advances had not been done out of fear and weakness but out of a determination to survive. She’d faced her ordeal with courage. Faced it head-on. She hadn’t whined and wept. She hadn’t begged. She’d lifted her chin, stripped off her clothes and done what she had to do.
That she’d found pleasure in having sex with her captor had come as a shock to Lady Gwendaline. It was blatantly obvious, though, that she had decided to go to bed with the pirate before she discovered what a great lover he was. There was nothing weak about Gwendaline. Nothing of the victim. She was a survivor because she was a decider. She didn’t just let things happen to her. She decided, then she acted. Sometimes foolishly, but always with spirit and courage.
Violet smothered a sigh as she closed the book then slipped it back into her bag. She wished she had that type of courage. But she didn’t. She couldn’t even find the courage to go out on a date. God, she was pathetic!
She was sitting there, castigating herself, when she became aware that the plane had stopped descending. It was, in fact, ascending—quite quickly. But why? Even before there was time for fear to take hold, the pilot’s voice came over the intercom.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said, ‘this is your captain speaking. We are experiencing a small technical problem with the undercarriage of the aircraft. You may have noticed that we have halted our descent. We will be returning to ten-thousand feet, where we will maintain a holding pattern till we have solved the problem. Please keep your phones and laptops turned off during this short delay. Be assured there is nothing to be alarmed about. I will keep you informed and trust we will soon be able to resume our descent.’
Unfortunately, things didn’t work out as smoothly as that. Instead of shortly resuming their descent, they maintained a holding pattern for a tense twenty minutes, after which they flew out over the ocean where the captain dumped the rest of the fuel before finally coming in for an emergency landing. The passengers by then were armed with the disturbing knowledge that the undercarriage was probably not properly locked in. The wheels had come down but some light that should have come on hadn’t.
Or maybe it should have gone off. Violet wasn’t sure which. Her normally sharp brain had gone into panic mode when the captain had been explaining the unfortunate situation. Either way, there was a very real possibility that once they hit the tarmac the undercarriage would totally collapse and all hell would break loose.
There was a deathly silence in the cabin as they made their approach. None of the hundred-and-fifty-plus passengers were at all reassured by the captain’s cool, or the fact that their runway had already been covered in fire-retardant foam, with all emergency vehicles at the ready. The reality of the matter was that they were all facing the possibility that in a minute or so everyone in that plane might die.
Violet wished, as she braced in the crash position, that she hadn’t watched so many of those air crash investigation shows. They didn’t inspire confidence in a positive outcome.
Survivors of plane crashes often said afterwards that their lives flashed before them during their near-death experience. Violet could honestly say that didn’t quite happen to her. The only thing she could think of at that moment was that she was about to go to her grave a virgin. She had never experienced sex, or love, or passion, or anything even close.
And it was all her own fault. It was then that she made a solemn vow to herself: if she got through this alive, she would change. From now on, she would say yes when asked out, no matter who asked her.
She would make other changes too. She would stop going to an all-female gym. She would dress more fashionably; wear make-up; perfume; jewellery. She would believe what the mirror told her and not her warped mind. She would even buy a car under the positive assumption that she would definitely need one when she began socialising more. Not a boring car, either. A red two-door model!
No more ‘shrinking Violet’ for her. The time had come to shrug off her stultifying past and embrace a very different future.
If I have a future, came the awful thought.
Her chest tightened as the plane touched down, a silent prayer forming on her lips. The wheels skidded a little on the foam but they held. Dear Lord in heaven, they held! Her head shot up at the same time as lots of other heads shot up. Everyone started laughing and clapping, hugging each other and even kissing. Violet had never felt so relieved, or so happy.
She’d been given a second chance at life and, by God, she wasn’t going to waste it!
CHAPTER TWO
LEO WAS SITTING on the balcony of his father’s harbour-side apartment, sipping a glass of very nice red, when he heard a phone ring somewhere inside. Not his; he always kept his phone with him.
‘Henry, phone!’ he called out after the phone rang a few more times. Leo hadn’t called his father ‘Father’ since he’d gone to Oxford to study law over twenty years ago. They’d always been close, the result of Leo’s mother having died when Leo had been very young, and his father never having remarried.
By the time Leo had gone to university they’d been more like best friends than father and son. Henry had suggested the change and Leo had happily gone along with the idea.
He was about to get up and answer the darned phone himself when the ringing finally stopped, leaving Leo to relax with his wine and enjoy the view, which was second to none, especially on a warm summer’s afternoon. The water was bluer than blue, sparkling in the sunshine and decorated with all manner of craft, from small sailing boats to ferries to five-star cruisers. In the not-too-distant foreground stood Sydney’s iconic Harbour Bridge, along with the stunning-looking Opera House on its left.
When Henry had announced eight years
