Marriage And Miracles
Miranda Lee

www.millsandboon.co.uk

THE STORY SO FAR

After the death of the man she believed was her father, Gemma Smith had left the opal fields of the outback for Sydney to find out the truth about her mother, and to sell her priceless discovery, a flawless black opal. Fate had introduced her to Nathan Whitmore, a famous playwright, who offered her a reward for the gem, which had been stolen from his adoptive father twenty years before. Nathan seduced and married Gemma, and her life changed forever; she witnessed startling changes in the Whitmore household, too: Nathan’s wild-child adoptive sister, Jade, discovered happiness with Kyle Gainsford, while Melanie, the family housekeeper, had been swept off in the arms of Royce Grantham. And just look what had happened between Ava, Bryon’s much younger sister, and Vince Morelli! But, best of all, Gemma had found her real mother and father right on her own doorstep: it was hard to believe that she was the result of a never-dying love between Celeste Campbell and Byron Whitmore!

However, Gemma’s marriage to Nathan was falling apart. It seemed that the gossips were right, and that her husband didn’t have a heart. But miracles had already happened for Gemma and those around her; was it too much to ask for just one more?

PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS IN THIS BOOK

GEMMA WHITMORE-SMITH: when the man who she believed was her father died, Gemma discovered a priceless black opal, the Heart of Fire, and a photograph that cast doubt on her real identity. In search of her mother and a new life, she went to Sydney, where she was seduced by, and then married to, Nathan Whitmore. Happily, Gemma eventually unearthed the secret of the Heart of Fire, and who her real parents were: Celeste Campbell and Byron Whitmore, Nathan’s adoptive father! But now her marriage to Nathan is in tatters, because it seems he is unable to return her love….

NATHAN WHITMORE: adopted son of Byron Whitmore, Nathan is a talented, successful playwright. But, after a desperately troubled childhood and a divorce, Nathan is utterly ruthless and emotionally controlled. Can he rediscover his heart and save his marriage?

CELESTE CAMPBELL: head of the Campbell Jewels empire, Celeste was seen as a bright, beautiful predator who was not to be toyed with, in business or in love. But her brittle exterior hid a turbulent past and a broken heart—until she found love again with Byron Whitmore, who had always been the only man for her, and Gemma, her long-lost daughter.

BYRON WHITMORE: patriarch and head of the Whitmore family. His first unhappy marriage to Irene came to a thankful, though tragic end. Then fate reintroduced him to Celeste, the only woman he ever came close to loving, and he discovered that he had another daughter—Gemma.

DAMIAN CAMPBELL: younger brother of Celeste, Damian is interested only in self-gratification and sexual pleasure…. He doesn’t care whom he hurts in their pursuit….

LENORE LANGTRY: talented stage actress, ex-wife of Nathan Whitmore and mother of Kirsty, Lenore has finally found love with top lawyer, Zachary Marsden.

A NOTE TO THE READER

This novel is one of six set in the glamorous, cutthroat world of Australian opal dealing. Each novel is independent and can be read on its own. It is the author’s suggestion, however, that they be read in the order written.

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

CHAPTER ONE

THE première of a new play by Nathan Whitmore had become quite an event in Sydney over the past few years. It was nothing to see the Prime Minister of Australia as well as other heads of state roll up with their wives, not to mention a good supply of the sort of socialites and celebrities who graced the pages of the tabloids and women’s magazines every other week.

Gemma surveyed the famous faces in the crowd gathered in the foyer with a sincere lack of interest or awe. Fame as such did not impress her. Why should it? There was a time—not very long ago—when she would not have recognised a single famous face here tonight, and her life had not been any the less for it.

‘Smile, Mrs Whitmore,’ one of the plethora of photographers directed her way. ‘And you too, Ms Campbell.’

‘Smile, Gemma,’ Celeste hissed under her breath. ‘This was your idea, remember? I did warn you not to come, but now that you’re here, you must grin and bear it.’

Both women smiled and Gemma wondered what the photographer would say if he knew he was not just taking a photograph of Ms Celeste Campbell and Mrs Nathan Whitmore, but mother and daughter.

There was no doubt that the news would set Sydney’s social set on its ear, especially if it were also publicly revealed that Gemma’s father-in-law, Byron Whitmore, was Gemma’s biological father as well.

The long-standing feud between the glamorous lady boss of Campbell Jewels and the handsome head of Whitmore Opals had fuelled many a discussion over the years. An affair gone sour had been whispered at occasionally, but no one could have guessed at the extraordinary set of circumstances which had brought about Gemma’s birth, her subsequent stealing as a baby by a man who thought he was her father, but who wasn’t, and her final return into the lives of her real parents twenty years later.

It had only been three days since Gemma had found out the truth, yet already she had forged a bond with her father and mother that was astonishingly close and full of love. They were both tremendous people, in her opinion. Not saints, of course, either of them, but basically good souls with deeply caring natures who only wanted the best for their long-lost daughter. The added news that they were finally going to get married had made Gemma very happy.

Her own marriage was another matter...

Gemma’s stomach began churning. Her plan to get Nathan back had seemed a good one in theory. In practice, it was dangerous and risky and nerve-racking. But what alternative did she have? She loved Nathan more than life itself and felt sure that he loved her back, despite everything. She couldn’t let cruel twists of fate and unfortunate misunderstandings destroy their marriage. Certainly not now, when she might possibly be pregnant.

‘What’s taking Byron so long?’ she said worriedly after the photographer had scuttled away. ‘I hope he’s not trying to play peace-maker between Nathan and me. I asked him not to meddle.’

‘Please give Byron more credit for intelligence than that, Gemma. He realises any influence he has over Nathan is at a low ebb at the moment. Nathan was far from impressed to find out Byron had slept with me while he was still a married man. Then when he added that we were going to get married...’ Celeste’s eyes rolled expressively. ‘He said Nathan stared at him as though he were mad.’

Gemma sighed. ‘Poor Byron. He deserves better than that from Nathan.’

‘Yes, he does. Frankly, Gemma, everyone deserves better than they’re getting from Nathan. Why you still love him after what he’s done amazes me. Keeping my identity from you was despicable enough, but when I think how he...he—’

‘You promised not to speak of that again,’ Gemma broke in sharply. ‘You know that Nathan was out of his head when he did that. If I can forgive and forget, why can’t you?’

Celeste pursed disapproving lips. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t abide a man perpetrating any violence against a woman, no matter what the provocation. Still, I won’t mention it again. It’s your life and I can see you’re determined to try to save your marriage.’

‘And you promised to help me any way you could.’

‘God knows why,’ Celeste muttered.

Gemma reached out and gently touched her mother on the wrist. ‘Because you love me?’ she said softly.

Celeste was stunned by the rush of maternal love that flooded her heart, tears pricking her eyes. Blinking madly, she nodded acknowledgement of this, squeezing her daughter’s hands before finding her voice. ‘I suppose I’ll just have to take your word for it that Nathan is worth fighting for and not the coldest, most cynical bastard I’ve ever laid eyes on.’

‘Lenore thinks he’s worth it,’ Gemma argued with a quiet intensity. ‘And she was married to him for twelve years.’

Celeste sighed. ‘Whatever his faults, he certainly knows how to inspire loyalty in his wives.’

‘He’s only had two!’ Gemma protested.

‘So far. If he divorces you as he says he’s going to, that leaves the field clear for number three.’

‘Nathan and I won’t be getting a divorce,’ Gemma said with a stubborn set of her mouth. ‘And there won’t be any number three!’

‘Oh? And how do you intend to change his mind?’

‘By whatever means are at my disposal.’

‘Mmm...’ Celeste gave Gemma the once-over, a sardonic gleam coming into her eyes as they carefully assessed her appearance. ‘I was at a loss earlier on to understand what you hoped to achieve coming here tonight. Now I see it’s not your attending the play you had in mind but the party afterwards.’

Gemma felt a guilty heat seep into her cheeks but she refused to succumb to embarrassment over her appearance, or shame over her plan. Nathan was her husband, after all! Besides, she wasn’t nearly as provocatively dressed as she’d seen Celeste on occasions. OK, so her red crèpe dress was very form-fitting, the wide beaded belt emphasising her hour-glass figure. And yes, the deep V neckline showed clearly that she wasn’t wearing a bra. But that was hardly a crime these days, was it?

‘I only want to talk to him,’ she lied outrageously. ‘I can’t achieve anything unless I talk to him, can I?’

‘People who play with fire often get burnt,’ Celeste warned softly. ‘I should know. I’ve been there, done that.’

‘And you ended up with the man you love, I noticed,’ Gemma said. ‘I aim to do the same.’

Celeste blinked in surprise at the hard edge in her daughter’s voice, till it came to her that Gemma was a chip off the old block. Both her parents were pigheaded people who didn’t know when to quit. She almost felt sorry for Nathan.

‘Ah...here’s Byron now.’ Celeste smiled and linked arms with him. ‘We thought you’d got lost, darling. How are things backstage?’

‘Everyone’s a bundle of nerves. Except Nathan, of course. That man had nerves of steel.’

And a heart of steel, Celeste thought, but declined to say so.

‘What did he say about me?’ Gemma asked nervously.

‘Not a word.’

Gemma looked and felt crestfallen. ‘Does...does he know I’m here, and that I’m going to the party afterwards?’

‘I did mention it in passing, but he didn’t seem to care one way or the other. To be honest, I’m a little shocked at Nathan’s stand over this divorce business. I’ve never known him to be so inflexible, or so unfeeling. It’s as though he’s retreated behind some hard shell that nothing can penetrate.’

‘That’s just a faç ade he hides behind,’ Gemma stated, and did her best to believe it. Because if she didn’t, what then?

‘It’s time we went inside, isn’t it?’ Celeste jumped in, deciding a change of subject was called for when she saw a stricken look momentarily flash across her daughter’s eyes. God, if that bastard hurt her again, she was going to kill him with her bare hands, something she was capable of. All those years of martial arts training had to be good for something!

‘The bell hasn’t gone,’ Byron replied. ‘But yes,’ he added quickly on seeing Celeste’s withering glance, ‘I think we might go in.’

A photographer snapped the three of them as they walked into the theatre, Celeste and Byron flashing him a quick smile. Gemma’s face, however, reflected an inner misery that she could not hide. Her faith in her plan was already crumbling, as was her faith in Nathan’s love for her.

Their seats were in the middle of the fifth row from the front, the best seats in the house. As the play’s producer, Byron had access to this whole row if he wanted. He’d offered seats to both Jade and Ava, but they had declined to come in protest over Nathan’s unreasonable behaviour towards Gemma. Both women had declared they would never speak to him again till he came to his senses.

Gemma sat down and began flicking through the programme booklet Byron had bought her on arrival, anything to still the butterflies in her stomach. The sight of her husband’s face staring out at her jolted her for a second.

The black and white photograph brought a hardness to his looks that she had never noticed before. He’d always looked like a golden god to her, with hair the colour of wheat, skin like bronze satin, a classically handsome face, a highly sensual mouth and the most beautiful grey eyes. Now, those eyes stared out at her with all the warmth of a winter’s dawn, a slight arching of his left eyebrow adding a cynical edge to their cold expression, as did the twisted curve of his half-smile.

Oh, how she’d always hated it when he smiled at her like that, as though he knew things about the world that she was not yet privy to. Nathan had always declared the world a rotten place full of rotten people. He was cynical through and through about the human race, and the female sex in particular, probably because of the wicked, even depraved women who had played vital roles during his growing-up years.

First there had been his mother, a spoiled rich bitch who had left home as a teenager to live a life of debauchery, drugs and total self-indulgence. Nathan had been illegitimate, his father unknown to him and possibly to his mother, who had spent her entire life going from lover to lover, orgy to orgy, trip to trip.

Gemma had heard about Nathan’s mother from several sources—though not Nathan himself. He never talked about the past. Apparently, she had put him in his first boarding-school at the age of eight, dragging him out whenever her latest lover left her or vice versa, then putting him back in school once a new man came on the scene. After she died of a drug overdose when Nathan was sixteen, he had become a street kid up at King’s Cross. When Byron had come across him several months later Nathan had actually been living with some woman old enough to be his mother, and there was nothing platonic about the relationship. Byron had befriended the boy and, later, adopted him.

Gemma shuddered to think what might have happened to Nathan if Byron hadn’t come along.

Not that Nathan’s life as Byron’s adopted son had ever been without its problems, especially when it came to the opposite sex. His relationship with the female members of his adoptive family seemed dicey from what she’d gathered, and his shotgun marriage to Lenore had not been a raving success, even if his plays were. By the time Gemma had met Nathan early this year when he was out at Lightning Ridge on an opal-buying trip, he’d become a rather world-weary thirty-five, divorced from Lenore and about to resign from Whitmore Opals to write full-time.

From the first moment they met, Gemma had been totally smitten by his mature handsomeness, his city glamour and smooth sophistication, while Nathan had seemed equally bowled over by her youthful beauty, countrified innocence and obvious inexperience with men. Gemma had initially been very wary of having anything to do with a divorced man so many years older than herself, but within a few short weeks of her coming to Sydney Nathan had seduced and married her.

Gemma had gone off on her honeymoon with many warnings about Nathan ringing in her ears. Not too many people had been confident that their marriage would work out, their view being that Nathan had only married her for the sex.

They’d been right and they’d been wrong. Sex had played a big part in their relationship so far. This did not bother Gemma as much as Nathan’s jealous possessiveness, plus his tendency to treat her as a naïve child. His extreme cynicism was another bone of contention between them, along with his obvious inability to communicate with women on any other level than the physical.

But none of that meant he didn’t really love her, Gemma kept believing staunchly. He just didn’t know how to express that love any other way, or how to trust in it. Gemma believed that time would bring about the real intimacy and bonding she was looking for with Nathan. Time and love. She had no intention of giving up on her marriage at the first hurdle.

OK, so it was a pretty stiff hurdle. Not many wives would forgive their husbands falsely accusing them of unfaithfulness and then virtually raping them. But Gemma had, after all, been the first to point the finger in the matter of unfaithfulness. As for the rape...she understood why and how that had happened, and with the understanding had come forgiveness.

Nathan had gone crazy when he’d found her in Damian Campbell’s bedroom. Fury had turned to a violent passion which had spun out of control before he could stop himself. Maybe if she had struggled instead of lying there in stunned horror, Nathan might have stopped. As it was, his remorse afterwards had been a palpable thing, and while Gemma had been shocked and appalled at first, in the end she’d been able to put the unfortunate incident into perspective.

Which was just as well, since it was possible Nathan had started a baby in her that afternoon. He’d obviously forgotten that he’d asked her to throw away her pills the previous weekend. But throw them away she had.

Most women might have revolted at a rape making them pregnant. But once Gemma had found it in her heart to forgive Nathan, she’d been consumed by an amazing feeling of rightness. It had also given her a way of getting her husband back. Hadn’t he married Lenore—a woman he hadn’t loved—on the strength of a pregnancy? Surely he’d come back to a wife he already loved if she was having his baby.

Which was why she was going to the post-première party tonight, hoping for an opportunity to seduce her husband, thereby increasing her chance of pregnancy, and at the same time freeing Nathan from having to accept that any baby she might have already conceived had been started on that awful afternoon. Gemma might have forgiven Nathan for the rape but it was clear to her that he hadn’t forgiven himself. She was sure this was one of the reasons he was insisting on a divorce, because of his own self-disgust and guilt.

‘It’s not a very good photo of Lenore, is it?’ Celeste suddenly commented, looking over Gemma’s shoulder at the page across from the one she’d been staring blankly at.

Gemma refocused on the booklet in her lap and examined the photograph of the woman who was not only Nathan’s ex-wife but also the leading lady in his new play.

Celeste was quite right. It was not a particularly flattering photo, though once again the black and white print did not do justice to Lenore’s vivid beauty. In colour and in the flesh, Lenore was strikingly lovely, her bright red hair and flashing green eyes projecting a ‘look-at-me’ quality which no doubt served her well as a stage actress. Gemma imagined that from the moment Lenore walked on stage, all eyes would turn to her as though magnetised.

Though going on thirty-five, Lenore looked much younger, her figure still as spectacular as her face, its model-slim tallness and elegance adding to her already captivating package. Gemma had always felt gauche by comparison. No matter how many people complimented her pretty face and eyes, no matter how many men ogled her voluptuous curves, Gemma only had to look at Nathan’s wife to feel inadequate and inferior.

Lenore’s stunning sex appeal was the main reason Gemma had been so quick to believe what she had believed last Sunday, which was that Nathan had spent the weekend with his ex-wife while she’d been out at Lightning Ridge trying to find some clues to her till-then missing mother’s identity. When Gemma had come back unexpectedly early and found Lenore in their flat with Nathan, she’d been right and ready to misunderstand tragically the seemingly shocking conversation she had overheard.

If she’d had a little more faith in her husband’s love, she would have stayed and found out that they’d been rehearsing a section of their play, not discussing their previous night’s dalliance. Instead, Gemma had fled, eventually to the Campbell house, thereby putting into motion the awful circumstances that had led to Nathan assaulting her.

The only good thing to come out of the horrors of the past week was that she not only found out her mother’s identity, but had discovered, with a degree of relief, that the man who she had thought had been her father all her life and whom she had never been able to love was not her father after all!

‘Byron tells me Lenore is having an affair with Zachary Marsden,’ Celeste whispered. ‘Apparently, they intend to marry next year after he’s divorced his wife.’

‘Yes, I know.’

‘She’s no danger to your marriage, Gemma.’

‘Yes, I know that too. Now.’

‘Better late than never.’

Gemma smiled across at her mother. ‘Is that how you feel about marrying Byron?’

Celeste grinned. ‘You’d better believe it. I can’t wait to hog-tie him to me forever.’

‘When’s the big day?’

‘As soon as we can arrange it. No long white dresses or anything. Just a simple ceremony. I have no patience with frippery at my age. All I want is Byron’s ring on my finger.’

‘And all I want is my Nathan back again.’

Celeste sighed. ‘Are you sure your love for this man is not blind, Gemma? Do you know what you’re dealing with? You were very young when you married him. Just twenty. You’re only a few months older now.’

‘You were only seventeen when you fell in love with Byron.’

Celeste shook her head. ‘That’s different.’

‘How?’

‘Will you two women stop whispering together?’ Byron hissed down the line. ‘The curtain’s about to go up.’

Celeste patted his arm. ‘Keep your shirt on, darling.’

‘It’s my shirt I’m worried about,’ he grumbled back. ‘I’ve put a hell of a lot of money into this play.’

‘Don’t worry, if it bombs I’ll sell my yacht and give you the proceeds.’

‘I just might keep you to that!’

‘Sssh,’ someone in the row behind them said as the lights dimmed and the curtain rose.

It wasn’t long before everyone was silent and totally engrossed in what was going on on stage.

Gemma soon realised why the play was called The Woman in Black. The heroine, played by Lenore, was a widow in her mid-thirties, whose elderly husband had just died. Her wickedly handsome black-sheep stepson showed up at the funeral and immediately created an atmosphere of tingling suspense and sexual tension. It quickly became obvious that he had once had an affair with his stepmother and the affair had resulted in the birth of a son who the dead husband believed was his and who was now heir to the bulk of his estate.

Towards the end of the first half of the play the widow was once again in danger of being seduced by her evil stepson. He came to her bedroom the night after the funeral, where by some very devious and seductive manoeuvres he succeeded in binding her hand and foot to the bed. He was about to cut her nightwear off with a pair of scissors when the curtain came down.

‘Good God,’ Celeste let out on a shuddering sigh as the lights came on. Slowly, she turned wide eyes towards Gemma. ‘And the man who wrote that is the man you love?’

Gemma flushed fiercely. ‘It’s only a play, Celeste. It’s not real!’

‘Still...’

‘My God, I’m on a winner!’ Byron exclaimed excitedly. ‘Just look at the audience. They can’t stop talking about it. I knew when I first read the darned thing that it was a powerfully emotional and erotic drama, but to see it enacted...’ He shook his head in disbelief and admiration. ‘Lenore’s quite brilliant, isn’t she? And that chap they’ve got playing the hero is simply incredible!’

‘He’s hardly a hero, Byron,’ Celeste remarked drily.

‘You know what I mean. Besides, I’ll bet there isn’t a woman in this theatre who’d say no to him if he put his slippers under her bed.’

‘You could be right,’ she said, revelling in the look of instant jealousy that burnt in his intense blue eyes.

‘In that case, I’m not taking you to the party afterwards. That devil will be there. Gemma can go alone!’

‘I doubt she’ll mind that,’ Celeste muttered, thinking Gemma might not want her father to see what she was up to. Despite Byron’s passionate nature, he was basically a man of old-fashioned principles. It was the man’s place to do the chasing, in his opinion, not the woman’s. Seduction was not supposed to be a woman’s domain. He was still coming to terms with Celeste’s liberated views and would not condone his daughter doing her darnedest to get her husband back in her bed by the methods she obviously meant to employ later tonight. Celeste decided it might be wise to coax Byron away from the party afterwards as early as possible.

She didn’t think she would have any trouble.

Her hand came to rest with seeming innocence on his thigh. ‘Don’t be silly, Byron,’ she said, her eyes locking on his. ‘You’ll be expected to attend. At least for a little while,’ she added, dropping her voice to a husky whisper, her hand moving ever so slightly up his leg. ‘But I see no reason why we can’t slip away early. If Gemma wants to stay and talk to Nathan she can go home to Belleview in a taxi.’

‘You’re wicked,’ he groaned, but did not remove her hand.

She simply smiled. The things a mother did for her children, Celeste thought with a stab of perverse amusement.

Byron cleared his throat. ‘Can I—er—get you two ladies a drink?’ he offered, his voice a little shaky.

‘That would be nice, darling,’ Celeste returned smoothly. ‘Champagne, I think. Celebrations are obviously in order.’

‘Champagne it is.’

‘What are we celebrating?’ Gemma asked after Byron left them. Clearly, she hadn’t been listening to their ongoing conversation.

‘The success of the play.’

Gemma grimaced. ‘I suppose I should be happy for Nathan, but I’ll never like that play. How can I when it was responsible for breaking up our marriage?’

‘The play wasn’t responsible for breaking up your marriage. Nathan was, when he refused to listen to you, when he closed his eyes and ears to your love.’

Gemma frowned as the reality of what Celeste was saying sank in. Why had Nathan turned his back on her love? Why? His blunt confession to having kept her in the dark about Celeste being her mother had been a deliberate act to drive her away and make her agree to a divorce. Would a man genuinely in love do that?

Her highly practical and logical brain reached for an answer but her heart didn’t like the one it came up with. Nathan couldn’t love her, in that case. Maybe he never had. Maybe everyone else was right and he’d only married her out of lust. Maybe he’d even found someone else...the number three Celeste had mentioned.

Panic began to set in till Gemma remembered the baby she might be carrying. Could she afford to think negative thoughts, even if they were logical ones? Love wasn’t logical, she reminded herself frantically. Love had never been logical. Perhaps it was shame and guilt that had impelled him to push her away with the only weapon he could find. That report. He did love her. He must! For if he didn’t...

God, if he didn’t!

Black thoughts swirled in her head.

‘You don’t have to go to the party afterwards,’ Celeste said quietly.

Gemma blinked, her confusion clearing as she realised that if there was even the smallest chance Nathan loved her she had to take it.

‘Oh, yes, I do,’ she said, her nerves calming a little in the face of having no alternative. ‘I don’t have any choice.’

Celeste almost argued with her daughter, till she recalled all the stupid, crazy things she had done in the name of love. Could anyone have dissuaded her at the time? She doubted it.

So she remained silent, and eventually Byron returned with the champagne. Eventually, too, the play resumed, the second half as compelling and shocking as the first. And eventually, the three of them left the theatre to go to the post-première party.

CHAPTER TWO

‘WHY didn’t you hold this party at Belleview?’ Celeste asked Byron as he drove up the ramp of the underground car park. ‘Not that I’m complaining, mind. Double Bay is a lot closer than St Ives.’

‘Which is precisely the answer to your question. The cast and crew have two performances tomorrow, it being a Saturday, and most of them live close to the city. So when Cliff offered his place as the venue I jumped at it.’

‘Who’s Cliff? One of your business cronies?’

‘He’d like to be. He’s an American movie producer who wants to buy the rights to Nathan’s play. A colleague of his snapped one up earlier in the year. When Cliff read it, he hot-footed it over here as if he was shot out of a cannon. He’s as slick as they come and thinks we Aussies have all come down in the last shower when it comes to the movie business. Which we have, in a way,’ Byron finished drily.

‘Don’t let him have the rights to this play for less than two million, Byron,’ Celeste advised. ‘I’ve heard that’s what a top screenplay commands these days.’

‘Two million, eh? You’re sure that’s not excessive?’

‘Not at all. That play will be a big hit, be it on stage or screen.’

‘You’re right!’ Byron pronounced firmly. ‘It’s easily worth two million. I’ll ask for three.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ Celeste laughed.

Gemma sat silently in the back of Byron’s Jaguar, grateful for her parents’ lively conversation. It took her mind off the evening ahead, and her mission impossible. She wondered idly what kind of place this American movie mogul had rented. A large harbour-side apartment, she supposed. A penthouse, even.

When Byron turned down a quiet Double Bay street and pulled into the kerb outside an outlandishly huge Mediterranean-style white-stuccoed mansion, her eyes almost popped out of her head. She would not have believed that any home could make Belleview pale by comparison, but she was wrong. This particular place dwarfed Byron’s home in size, outdid it for opulence, and made her realise that, while money could not buy everything, it could buy a hell of a lot!

Celeste must have been having similar thoughts.

‘If he can afford a place like this, Byron,’ she said as they climbed out of the car, ‘then three million will be just a drop in the ocean.’

A security guard checked their identities at the gates, then let them inside.

Gemma was all eyes as they made their way through the lushly tropical front garden—complete with fountain—up some statue-lined steps and on to an arched portico that was at least twenty feet wide and God knew how long. It disappeared into the dim distance as did the ranch-style building itself. The ceramic pots lining the covered veranda at regular intervals were enormous and alone would have cost a small fortune.

Byron moved over to ring the front doorbell while Gemma turned to admire the gushing fountain from the top of the steps.

‘If only Ma could see this place,’ she muttered.

‘Have you told Ma about me yet?’ Celeste asked her daughter on hearing her mention her old neighbour out at Lightning Ridge.

Gemma nodded. ‘I wrote to her last night. She’s going to be tickled pink when she finds out Byron is my father. I think she always rather fancied him.’

‘Did she, now?’ Celeste said archly. ‘I think I’ll have to put a stop to all those opal-buying trips dear Byron goes on. I’ve never subscribed to the theory that absence makes the heart grow fonder. I’m more inclined to believe out of sight out of mind, especially where the male sex is concerned!’

Gemma laughed. ‘Ma’s about seventy, Celeste. I don’t think you have to worry on that score.’

‘Worry?’ Byron butted in. ‘What are you worried about, Gemma? Look, I’m sure Nathan will come round eventually. Give the boy some time and he’ll see sense.’

Byron’s reminder of why she had come to this party brought a resurgence of nerves to Gemma’s stomach. Her confidence slipped another notch and it took all of her courage not to turn and run away.

‘Nathan is not a boy, Byron,’ Celeste advised tartly. ‘And we weren’t talking about him, anyway. Did you ring the doorbell?’

Right at that moment, the heavy front door was flung open and a big, barrel-chested man with a ruddy face and thick white hair appeared, a glass of whisky in one hand and a cigar in the other.

‘Byron, my man!’ he boomed in a broad American accent. ‘I’ve been waiting for you to show up. Everyone else has been here for a while. What kept you?’

‘The Press.’

Cliff laughed. ‘I saw them swarming all over you afterwards. I gather they were keen on the play?’

‘Very keen.’

‘How could they not be?’ the American enthused. ‘The damned thing was brilliant! If you don’t sell me the rights, I’ll have to throw myself off your Gap.’

Gemma was startled by this mention of a rather notorious Sydney suicide spot since she hadn’t really been tuned into the interchange. Her mind had been elsewhere.

Byron merely laughed. ‘That’s a bit drastic. I’m sure we could be persuaded to sell at the right price. Have you a spare three million or so?’

‘Three million! Why, you Aussie rogue, you! But let’s not talk money matters on the front doorstep. I’m much better at negotiation after a pint or two of Southern Comfort. And with a bit of luck, you won’t be,’ he chuckled.

‘Come in, ladies, come in,’ Cliff continued expansively, and threw an appreciative glance first at Celeste, then at Gemma. ‘Two women, Byron?’ he joked as he ushered the threesome into the spacious terracotta-tiled foyer. ‘I thought you were a conservative widower. Is this a side to you I haven’t seen before?’

Byron gave him a look of mock horror. ‘Good lord, Cliff, one woman is enough for me to handle, especially one like this.’ He linked arms with Celeste and drew her forward. ‘Let me introduce my fiancée, Celeste Campbell. Celeste, this is Cliff Overton.’

Celeste shook his hand and smiled with mischievous seductiveness.

Cliff whistled. ‘I see what you mean, Byron. And who’s this gorgeous young thing?’ he said on turning to Gemma. ‘I don’t recall seeing you on stage tonight, honey, yet someone as lovely-looking as you are must surely be an actress. I could set up a screen test for you, if you like,’ he whispered conspiratorially.

‘Back off, Cliff,’ Byron said, putting a protective arm around Gemma’s shoulder. ‘Gemma doesn’t want to be an actress, do you, love?’

‘Gemma! What a fantastic stage name!’ Cliff gushed on before Gemma could get a word in edgeways. ‘And so individual. All it needs is the right surname. I can see it in lights now. GEMMA STONE.’

Celeste and Gemma rolled their eyes at each other while Byron’s mouth thinned. ‘Gemma is Nathan’s wife,’ he informed drily. ‘I doubt he would like to see her name in lights.’

The American’s broad grin faded to a puzzled frown. ‘She is? But I thought Nathan was divorced. I mean, he—er—well, never mind,’ he shrugged. ‘I must have got it wrong. Nice to meet you, Gemma. You must be very proud of that genius husband of yours. That is some play he’s written. Not to mention directed. I wonder if he’d consider coming to Hollywood to direct the movie. What do you think, Byron?’

‘You’ll have to ask Nathan that. He’s his own man. I presume he’s here?’

Their host looked oddly disconcerted again. ‘Er—yes... yes, he is. Somewhere...’

‘Perhaps we could go and find him, then?’ Byron suggested, and Gemma’s stomach clenched down hard. Suddenly, she didn’t want to see Nathan. Not here. Not with a lot of other people around. She’d been stupid to come.

Her spirits sinking with each step, she followed the others down the wide tiled corridor to find herself eventually standing in an archway that overlooked a huge sunken living area full of laughing, talking, drinking, smoking partygoers. Music played in the background though only one couple was dancing. Lively conversation and thin cigarette haze filled the air.

The first person Gemma spotted was Lenore, who was standing, arm in arm with her leading man, surrounded by a rather large group of people. Everyone was drinking champagne and generally looking very happy and excited. When Lenore spotted Gemma too, her first reaction was a worried frown and a darting glance down the other end of the room. Gemma’s eyes followed, and what she saw made her breath catch in her throat and her insides flip right over.

Nathan was sitting on a large padded leather sofa. And the beautiful blonde curled up next to him was hardly acting like a platonic acquaintance. She was all over him like a rash and Nathan wasn’t warding her off.

Gemma’s mouth went dry as she watched her husband bend forward to pick up a drink from the table in front of them, laughing and smiling with his companion as they shared the glass. When he brushed his companion’s hair with his lips Gemma was almost sick on the spot. Suddenly, he looked up over the blonde’s head, straight at the archway then straight into Gemma’s appalled face. Without acknowledging her, he looked away and started talking to the couple seated on an adjacent sofa, his arm still firmly around the blonde’s shoulder.

‘Who the hell is that with Nathan?’ Celeste snapped from where she was standing between Gemma and Byron.

‘Her name is Jody Something-or-other,’ Byron grated out. ‘She’s one of the understudies.’

‘I’d hoped I got the wrong idea earlier,’ Cliff muttered on the other side of Byron. ‘Clearly I hadn’t.’

‘Gemma, darling,’ Celeste said abruptly, grabbing her daughter by the shoulders and dragging her back out of sight. ‘Why don’t I take you home? You can see for yourself Nathan doesn’t want a reconciliation. Don’t belittle yourself by trying. Please.’

Having snapped out of her shocked reaction, Gemma’s logical brain jolted into gear. What she’d seen with her eyes didn’t make sense. Nathan loved her, not some strange woman. In that case, what was he doing, draped all over her like that and doing something as intimate as sharing a drink, not to mention kissing her hair?

Every instinct told her to flee. But she’d run away once before when things looked bad and look what had happened!

‘I...I have to talk to him.’

‘Not in there, for pity’s sake,’ Celeste said, nodding towards the crowded and quite noisy room. She turned to her host, her voice assertive. ‘Cliff, you must have a quiet room near by where Gemma could speak privately with Nathan.’

‘Yes, of course!’

Gemma was ushered back down the corridor and through a door into a darkly furnished study-cum-library, where she waited with Celeste while Byron went to get Nathan. A lingering nausea continued to swim in her stomach as she tried desperately to get a grasp on the situation. But it was beyond her.

Nathan came in the room alone, looking elegantly cool in his black dinner suit, not the slightest bit perturbed at having to face his estranged wife.

‘You wanted to see me, Gemma?’ he drawled with an indifference that stunned her.

‘You unfeeling bastard,’ Celeste bit out. ‘We saw you just now with that little tramp.’

Icy grey eyes turned her way. ‘Watch your mouth, Celeste. Jody is no tramp. And I should know. I’ve seen plenty of the real thing. I’m looking at one right now.’

‘Nathan!’ Gemma gasped, appalled by such open rudeness.

‘It’s all right, Gemma,’ Celeste said sharply. ‘I can take care of myself. Now you listen to me, you creep! For some weird and wonderful reason which eludes me, Gemma here still loves you, and believes you still love her. Or she did till she saw that lovely little scenario out there with that blonde! But you and I know what you are, don’t we? You’re not fit to be the husband of a lovely young girl like this. Why don’t you do her a favour? Get the hell out of her life and stay out of it!’

‘Celeste, please,’ Gemma groaned, clasping her hands to the sides of her head.

‘I’d like to do exactly that, Celeste,’ Nathan snarled. ‘Your precious daughter just isn’t getting the message. Why in God’s name you allowed her to come here tonight is beyond me. I don’t want her back. I want a divorce. What more is there to be said?’

‘There’s plenty more to be said!’ Gemma suddenly burst out. ‘And I want it said to me! I’m here in this room, Nathan. Don’t talk around me.’

He turned slowly to face her, the cold fury in his eyes making her flinch away. ‘I have nothing more to say to you.’

Gemma almost crumbled at that point, but she knew if she walked out of here right now without asking him critical questions, she would never be able to live with herself, or the doubts that would remain. ‘But I have things I want to say to you, Nathan,’ she said with more steel than she was actually feeling.

His shrug was indifferent. ‘Please yourself.’

Gemma turned to her mother. ‘Celeste? Will you leave me alone with Nathan?’

Celeste grimaced. ‘I don’t like this, but I suppose I have no alternative. It is your life, after all. I’ll join Byron for a while. But I won’t be far away.’

Giving Nathan a warning glance, Celeste strode from the room, banging the door shut behind her. A strained silence descended, with Gemma eventually moving a little nervously away from Nathan.

‘You don’t have to do that,’ he snapped. ‘I’m not going to attack you again.’

‘Good God, Nathan,’ she groaned, ‘is that what all this is really about? Do you think that I can’t possibly have forgiven you for what you did that day? I can and I do, because I understand the pressures you were under when you did it.’

‘You misunderstand me, Gemma,’ he returned coldly. ‘I do not care if you forgive me or not. And it’s immaterial to me now whether you slept with Campbell or not.’

‘But I didn’t! I swear to you, I didn’t. I won’t deny that he fancied me and that he might have wanted something to develop between us. But nothing did. And now that he’s found out he’s my uncle, there’s no risk of that.’

Nathan’s laughter sent a chill running through her soul. ‘As if something as trivial as a little incest would stop a man like that. God, but you still haven’t grown up, have you? I would have thought some time spent in the bosom of the Campbells would have opened up those innocent eyes of yours.’

Gemma closed those eyes with a pained sigh before opening them again, her expression sad as she surveyed her cynical husband. ‘You always believe the worst of people, don’t you? Not everyone is wicked, Nathan.’

He laughed, then moved slowly towards her, making Gemma stiffen inside with an odd mixture of excitement and apprehension. When he reached out, to tip her chin upwards with a single finger, her eyes were wide and fearful.

‘If they aren’t, my darling,’ he said in a dark silky voice, ‘then it’s only a question of time and opportunity. Even the best person can be corrupted, given the right weapons. Just look at Byron. All he needed was a woman like Celeste to come into his life and his morals went right out of the window. With some people it’s sex. With others it’s drugs. Or money. Or power. Total innocents can be corrupted even against their will, if they fall into the wrong hands.’

The awfulness of Nathan’s words seemed to get lost under the spell of his physical closeness, and that finger which had slid under her chin and was even now tracing an erotic circle around her quivering mouth. Smoky grey eyes locked on to hers and Gemma found herself unable to tear her gaze away from his.

‘I could have really corrupted you if I’d wanted to,’ he murmured thickly.

Gemma moaned softly when that tantalising finger retreated from those tortuous circles. Dazed, she just stood there for a moment till she realised he was staring down at her braless breasts, which were at that moment rising and falling with a betrayingly increased heartbeat.

‘Maybe I already have,’ he rasped, startling her when he slipped his hands into the deep neckline and slid the dress off her shoulders, dragging the material down her arms, till her breasts were totally exposed.

‘Why else would you have dressed like this tonight?’ he taunted, his thumbs rubbing her rapidly hardening nipples. ‘Unless you wanted me to see that your breasts were within easy reach. Unless you wanted me to touch them like this, maybe touch you far more intimately...’

She whimpered as desire shot through her, her heart leaping when his eyes locked on to hers and she saw an answering desire flare madly within his glittering gaze.

‘If I did,’ she whispered breathlessly, ‘it’s because I love you. And because I know you still love me.’

Her words brought a stunned look to his face, quickly followed by a darkening fury.

‘Then you’re a bloody fool!’ he exclaimed, angrily yanking her dress back into place. ‘I do not love you and neither do you love me. God, there I was, thinking you might have grown up a little, that you might have learnt to call our feelings for each other by its correct name. It’s called lust, Gemma. L-U-S-T. Only romantic-minded little fools talk of love when they mean sex. Now get out of here before I do something we’re both going to regret afterwards.’

Gemma stared up at him with her mouth agape and her head whirling.

‘Didn’t you hear me, you silly little bitch?’ he snarled. ‘Get out! And take your naïveté with you. I have no patience with it any more. I should never have damned well married you in the first place and nothing you or anyone else can say will stop me divorcing you!’

Gemma stumbled over to the door where she gripped on to the knob with a white-knuckled intensity. But she did not turn that knob. She dragged some deep, steadying breaths and, when she felt enough in control, slowly turned to face her husband once more.

‘Just tell me one thing before I go,’ she said.

‘What?’ he snapped, scowling over at her.

‘If you never loved me, and didn’t believe I loved you, then why did you marry me? You could have had me without marrying me. You did have me without marrying me!’

His sardonic laugh increased her confusion, and her pain. ‘So I did. And you were enchanting, my dear. So enchanting that I thought I wanted you in my bed for forever and exclusively. I was even prepared to let you have a child to keep you there. Foolish of me, I realise. But even a mature man can be made a fool of when in the grip of a sexual obsession. Frankly, I was still quite enamoured of your charms when fate stepped in and sent you racing off to Campbell Court, which is why I reacted so poorly to finding you in Damian Campbell’s bedroom.’

‘But I wasn’t sleeping in there!’ she cried. ‘How many times do I have to tell you that I never went to bed with Damian?’

‘As I said before, dear heart,’ Nathan drawled, ‘I no longer care whether you did or not. My maniacal appetite for youth and innocence seems to have been cured somewhere along the line. Perhaps you saw the cure yourself with me earlier? She’s thirty-three, blonde and very, very inventive.’

Gemma stared at him before shaking her head in a blank and bleak disbelief. ‘I never really knew you, did I?’ she said dazedly. ‘Damian did. He said you were bad. I should have believed him.’

Angry grey eyes snapped back to hers. ‘Why didn’t you, then?’

‘Because I stupidly believed you loved me,’ she countered, her agony switching to outrage. ‘I stupidly believed in you!’

‘Yes, that was stupid, I’ll grant you that.’

Gemma could only keep shaking her head at him. ‘You don’t have any conscience at all where women are concerned, do you? You’re like that hero in your play. Sex and lust are all there is for you. You probably did sleep with Irene as Damian said you did.’

Nathan smiled a smile that sent a shiver down Gemma’s spine.

‘You know, some day that bastard is going to get his just deserts.’

‘I suppose you’re going to say he’s lying about that as well,’ she said bitterly.

‘Not if agreeing I went to bed with Irene will get you out of that door and out of my life.’

Gemma blinked her shock.

‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ he swept on irritably. ‘Of course I didn’t sleep with that pathetic bitch. Give me some credit for taste! But I dare say you won’t believe me. If you did, that would mean your precious uncle must have lied to you.’

‘I...I suppose Irene could have lied to him about it,’ Gemma said hesitatingly.

‘Good thinking, Gemma,’ he praised, but in a mocking tone. ‘Amazing how one and one doesn’t always make two, isn’t it? Sometimes you have to look outside the dots.’

Gemma frowned. ‘And should I look outside the dots with you, Nathan? Could you be driving me away because you think it’s for my own good, that you’re no good for me?’

His laughter was dark but not without humour. ‘That’s so splendidly noble, I wish I could embrace it! But that would be lying, my darling,’ he said, walking towards her with such a wicked glitter in his eyes that she shrank back against the wall next to the door.

‘Don’t touch me,’ she whispered.

Nathan’s raised eyebrows were pure sarcasm. ‘Don’t touch you? A few minutes ago you were dying for me to touch you. What’s happened to change that, I wonder? Are you beginning to doubt my sense of honour? Are you afraid that at any moment I might change into the animal of the other day?’

‘I’m not afraid of you, Nathan,’ she lied bravely.

‘Then you should be,’ he warned in a raw whisper. ‘Because if you stay here any longer, Gemma, my sweet, I might set about really corrupting you, just for the hell of it!’

Gemma stared at him, appalled at this dark stranger who had been her husband but whom she did not know.

‘Too late,’ he mocked. ‘I withdraw the offer. Besides, I just remembered I promised Jody a night of indefatigable energy. If I use some of it up on you, darling, I just won’t have enough to go around.’

Gemma’s hand came up and slapped him. His head jerked back and a red mark immediately stained his cheek, but he made no move to retaliate, merely rubbed his cheek and smiled a faintly wry smile. ‘Feel better now?’ he taunted softly.

‘I hate and despise you, Nathan Whitmore,’ Gemma rasped, her voice shaking. ‘How you can look yourself in the mirror in the morning, I have no idea. I came here to this party tonight hoping that we could get back together again. I was prepared to forgive you everything because I thought you loved me, and because I loved you. But I don’t love you any more. I refuse to love someone so unworthy of being loved.’

‘You’ve no idea how pleased I am to hear that, Gemma. Because I don’t want your love. It’s the last thing I want from you.’

Gemma could no longer deny the harsh sincerity behind the chillingly delivered words. But oh, dear God...what was going to become of her...without Nathan...without her dreams...? What point was there in going on?

‘So why are you still standing there?’ he jeered. ‘What more is there to be said? You’re free, Gemma. Free of our marriage. Free of loving me. Free of me. I’d say you’re one lucky girl, wouldn’t you? Now leave me be,’ he bit out savagely, and turned his back on her.

Gemma somehow made it out of the room and back to Celeste, who took one look at her and called for Byron to take them both home.

CHAPTER THREE

LIFE went on.

Gemma would not have believed it could after her traumatic meeting with Nathan. Surely she must die from the pain and the hurt that was consuming every fibre of her being? Nathan didn’t love her; had never loved her. All her dreams and hopes for the future were obliterated by that one cruel admission. As for the past...it was almost as painful to look back as it was to look bleakly forward. Her marriage had been a mockery, doomed from the start. Why hadn’t she heeded the signs? Why had she stubbornly refused to see what others saw?

Because you are a naïve silly bitch, that’s why, an angry inner voice kept telling her. Or you were!

It was this angry inner voice that sustained her through the following day, refusing to let her break down totally, although there were frequent bouts of weeping, as well as long hours of deep depression. But in the end anger, plus a healthy dose of burgeoning bitterness, stopped Gemma from succumbing to total despair.

When she woke on Sunday to the news that Nathan had delivered her car during the night—complete with the rest of her belongings—leaving again without speaking to anyone, her sense of outrage knew no bounds. What had happened to the man she had first met and fallen in love with? Where was this wicked stranger coming from? Had he always been there, hiding behind that cool conservative façade, that seemingly decent persona? He must have been, she supposed, her bewilderment almost as great as her disillusionment.

Still, she wasn’t the only one to be fooled. Byron had clearly been taken in, as had Lenore. Ava and Melanie, however, had clearly had their misgivings about him all along. Jade had been ambivalent, warning her off Nathan at first before unexpectedly coming round to believe in his love for Gemma almost as much as she had.

But he hadn’t been able to sustain the act indefinitely, had he? His dark side had finally surfaced, and surfaced with a vengeance. She now felt utterly mortified at having forgiven him for the rape. He had probably enjoyed every perverse moment, his supposed feelings of betrayed love being nothing but a bruised ego that his sexual possession might have dared turn to another man.

By Sunday evening, Gemma found solace in a bitter determination not to fall apart over the bastard’s black treachery. He wasn’t worth it. So on the Monday morning she gritted her teeth and went back to work.

From the first moment she walked into the shop, Gemma realised that the news of her separation from Nathan must have got around, because all the girls were extraordinarily nice to her, which was something new.

When Byron had given her a job as a sales assistant in the more exclusive of his two city stores, Gemma had gradually noticed an underlying resentment from the rest of the staff. She supposed they thought her employment smacked of nepotism, even though she had quickly proved herself a very competent salesperson, her Japanese better than anyone else’s. Gemma believed she might have overcome her workmates’ underlying hostility if Nathan hadn’t vetoed her going out with them on social occasions.

In the circumstances, she didn’t blame them for thinking she was a snob, so she was quite touched by their kindness to her that morning, and found it hard not to dissolve into tears. With a stiff upper lip and a lot of false smiles, she made it through the morning, but as one o’clock approached Gemma couldn’t wait to spend an hour sitting by herself in a park somewhere.

At a couple of minutes past one she was walking through the hotel arcade, heading for the main exit, her eyes on the black and white tiled floor, when a man’s voice suddenly spoke from just behind her right shoulder. ‘Going my way, sweetheart?’

Gemma ground to a halt and spun round, her startled brown eyes quickly filling with reproach. ‘Damian, you bad man. You shouldn’t sneak up on a girl like that.’

‘Sometimes it’s the only way,’ he returned drily. ‘Some girls don’t answer telephone calls.’

Gemma coloured guiltily. ‘I’m sorry. I was going to ring you back, but I forgot. Truly. I...I was a bit of a mess over the weekend.’

‘I can imagine. Celeste filled me in on what happened last Friday night. Which is why I was so startled when Ava told me on the phone this morning that you’d gone to work.’

‘It seemed the best thing to do.’

‘I couldn’t agree more. I’m delighted to see you’re determined not to be down-in-the-mouth and dreary. Life’s too short to waste it mooning over bastards like Nathan Whitmore.’

Gemma’s reaction was instant and quite absurd. She wanted to scream at Damian that he had no right to judge Nathan, that he knew nothing about him at all! Just in time, she controlled the quite irrational urge, recognising it as a hangover from what she had so very recently and stupidly believed in her husband and his love for her. ‘Yes, well, I’d rather not talk about Nathan, if you don’t mind,’ she said instead.

‘Your wish is my command.’ Damian took her arm. ‘What would you like to talk about over lunch?’

Gemma felt a reluctant smile pull at her mouth as she was masterfully propelled towards the street. ‘Who said I was having lunch with you?’

‘You don’t want to have lunch with your poor old uncle?’ he replied teasingly.

She laughed at this description of himself. Damian was only twenty-nine. He was also the epitome of ‘tall dark and handsome’, with the added elegance and style that being very wealthy provided. Most men would have looked good in the suit Damian was wearing. He looked fantastic. And he knew it.

‘Lunch is fine,’ she agreed. ‘But as I said, a mutual tongue-lashing of Nathan is out. I also don’t want to hear any sarcasm about Byron and Celeste being my parents.’

‘Hey!’ Damian put up his hands in mock defeat. ‘What do you think I am, an unfeeling monster? All I want is to have lunch with my very beautiful niece who, by the way, looks gorgeous with her hair up. You must wear it that way to the party this Friday night.’

‘P...party? What kind of party?’ Damian’s sweet flattery had been unacceptable. His inviting her to a party made her uncomfortable for some unaccountable reason. Were Nathan’s vile accusations about Damian still lingering at the back of her mind? It seemed the only reasonable explanation for her sudden unease. Or maybe her trust in the male sex in general had received such an incredible blow that it would be a long time before she could trust another man.

‘Just a dance party, Gemma,’ Damian explained with an indulgent smile. ‘They’re very popular with young people. A lot of my friends go to them. I thought it might make you feel better to get out and about, dance a little and meet some new people.’

It did sound innocent enough. And Damian was her uncle. Why was she hesitating?

‘I...I’m not sure.’

‘Hey, no sweat. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do any more. You’re your own boss now, remember? Just think about it and if you decide you need some cheering up come Friday night give me a call.’ Smiling, he linked arms with her again. ‘Now let’s go to lunch before your hour is up and we haven’t had a thing to eat!’

* * *

GEMMA DID NEED cheering up by Friday night. Frankly, she needed cheering up a lot earlier than that.

Work occupied her mind during the day, but come night time, Belleview was hardly a hive of distracting activity and conversation. Byron, quite rightly, was spending a lot of time with Celeste, courting her as he should have courted her all those years ago. And Ava, God love her, either disappeared into her studio with Vince or went out with him. Knowing Ava’s history, Gemma did not have the heart to spoil her fun at this glorious time in her life.

So Gemma pretended to be quite happy staying home alone watching television, saying she was tired after being on her feet all day. Yet all the while she was getting more and more depressed. By the time Damian telephoned her on the Thursday night, it didn’t take much persuasion for her to say yes.

* * *

DAMIAN HUNG UP, not bothering to hide his devilish glee. No one could see him. Celeste had just left with dear old Byron, and Cora was out in the kitchen, clearing up after dinner.

‘At last,’ he muttered, and let his mind run free over how Friday night should pan out.

Sweet little Gemma would have no resistance at all to the drugs he would slip into her drinks. In the end, she would have no resistance to him.

Damian actually trembled with the anticipated pleasure of finally having her in his power. God, but he had waited months for this moment. Never had a woman possessed his brain and his body as much as Gemma had.

From the first moment he’d seen her at that ball he’d wanted her, wanted her with a want that had gradually become an obsession. Her being his niece didn’t change a thing. If anything, it would add a delightfully perverse edge to the experience.

Damian made his way slowly back upstairs while his thoughts raced feverishly on.

He was going to have to be very careful the first time. He would have to seem to give her everything she was looking for, and obviously needing. Tenderness. Comfort. Love...

Later, when she was totally addicted to the mindless ecstasy that the drugs and he could give her, he would introduce her to more refined pleasures. It was amazing the pain a woman could endure—and even welcome—when she was high on the right cocktail.

He would have to video-tape everything, of course, once it got to that stage. Otherwise she might be tempted to tell someone after the drugs wore off. He couldn’t have that.

Damian smiled. He might even make some money out of her. It wouldn’t be the first time. Amazing how much women were prepared to pay rather than have tapes of their sexual exploits posted to their husbands or their families. They never breathed a word, either. Damian considered it was ironic that it was Nathan himself who had first given him the idea of taping sexual encounters to blackmail women. Poor old Irene...

In a way, it was a form of justice that Nathan’s own wife be similarly blackmailed.

Not that justice ever really interested Damian. He had only one aim in life.

Pleasure.

Sheer unadulterated pleasure.

He could hardly wait for tomorrow night to come.

* * *

BYRON DIDN’T COME home for dinner on the Friday night. He’d organised to meet Celeste after work for dinner in town and a night at the theatre. Ava and Vince went out for dinner as well, over to Vince’s family. Which meant Gemma would be alone at Belleview when Damian came to pick her up at nine o’clock. She hadn’t told anyone yet about the dance party, and now that she didn’t have to she was relieved.

Gemma hadn’t been looking forward to facing the frowns of disapproval. All the Whitmores thought very badly of Damian, yet in all honesty she had never seen any evidence to support his reputation as a wild and dissolute playboy. Any concerns she had ever had over the man had come from everyone around Belleview bad-mouthing him, as they had bad-mouthed Celeste. He was probably as innocent of any real wrongdoing as his sister had proved to be.

Nathan had been the chief castigator of both Campbells, yet it was Nathan who had proven to be the wicked one.

Still, it worried Gemma that she hadn’t told Ava some white lie about going out somewhere. What if Ava came home before Gemma and found her bed empty? The poor darling would worry and Gemma didn’t want that.

In the end, she decided to leave a note propped up on her pillow saying a friend from work had rung and she’d gone out to a party, and not to worry if she got home late. Byron had given her a set of keys to the house, as well as a remote control for the gates, so there was no trouble with letting herself in.

With that problem solved, Gemma set about having a relaxing bath, then getting herself ready. She had plenty of time—apparently these parties didn’t start early. Neither were they dressy affairs. Damian had suggested she wear something casual. Jeans or a skirt and top would be fine.

Gemma’s wardrobe was full of mostly classic or tailored garments but she did have a reddish-brown leather skirt which, when teamed with a simple cream silk shirt looked fairly casual. The colour also suited the auburn highlights the hairdresser regularly put into her shoulder-length brown hair. Remembering the compliment Damian had given her earlier in the week, she put it up as she had that day in a loose knot, with lots of wispy bits left around her face and neck. She put gold loops in her ears and a couple of gold chains round her neck. As it was night time, she wore a reasonable amount of make-up, high heels and perfume.

Gemma was ready and waiting, the gates open and her cream clutch bag in hand, when Damian drove in shortly before nine. His low wolf whistle when she opened the door unnerved her slightly, as did his words.

‘God, you look great. I’ll have to beat the men off with broomsticks.’

When Gemma frowned her immediate unease, Damian smiled reassuringly at her. ‘Don’t worry, love, you’re with me. If we don’t tell anyone I’m your uncle, they won’t come anywhere near you. Damian’s bird always has a hands-off sign on her.’

Gemma wasn’t entirely reassured by this idea, and neither did she like others thinking they were boyfriend and girlfriend, but she could see the sense of it if she didn’t want to ward off unwanted advances all night. The thought of dancing with perfectly strange men was suddenly anathema to her. Why had she ever agreed to come? She was not ready for this in any way, shape or form.

‘Even if I went around telling everyone I was your uncle,’ Damian added with an amused gleam in his eye, ‘no one would believe me.’

He was right, Gemma conceded as she looked him over. He looked younger than his twenty-nine years, especially when dressed all in black, as he was tonight. Absolutely everything he had on was black, from his high-necked shirt and casual woollen trousers down to his socks and shoes. There was even an ebony ring flashing on one finger and a black-faced watch on his wrist. At least no one would stare at them together as they had often done at her and Nathan.

A jab of intense dismay made her stiffen for a moment. Why do I keep thinking of him? Why can’t I forget him as he has obviously forgotten me?

You know why, taunted a dark inner voice, and Gemma’s hand instinctively moved across her stomach. God, what if she was pregnant? She didn’t want to be. Not now. Not any more. She wanted to forget Nathan, to put him right out of her mind for the rest of her life.

‘Are you feeling all right, Gemma?’ Damian asked with such a warm concern she felt terribly guilty. Her worry was probably all for nothing anyway. Her period would be along any day, once her cycle got back to normal.

‘I’m fine,’ she said with a quick smile. ‘And you’re quite right, Damian. We make a handsome couple.’

He smiled, radiating that dazzling charm which no doubt sent all the women’s hearts fluttering. But Gemma knew her heart was unlikely to flutter again for a long time. Not that it had ever fluttered for Damian. Nathan’s jealousy had been way off the mark, and quite wasted.

A sharp bitterness shot through Gemma as she thought of all she had suffered at Nathan’s hands because of what his sick mind imagined was going on between her and Damian. In a weird kind of way, she almost wished there had been something between them to justify the treatment she had endured. There was nothing worse than being accused of something you hadn’t done, nothing worse than being punished when you were innocent.

‘Stop thinking about that bastard,’ Damian said abruptly, sending her thoughts scattering when he curled his hand around her empty one and pulled her down the front steps.

Gemma found herself belted into the passenger seat of Damian’s red Ferrari before she could say boo.

‘Wait!’ she cried out when he zoomed through the open gates and would have taken off before she had a chance to close them. He screeched on the brakes, darting her a frustrated look.

‘I have to close the gates,’ she explained patiently, whereupon he gave her a sighing smile.

‘For a second there, I thought you’d changed your mind about coming.’

‘Never,’ she said, determined to dismiss Nathan from her mind for tonight. He didn’t deserve thinking about. ‘Where is this dance party, by the way?’

‘At a pub in North Sydney. You won’t know it. It’s in the back streets and not the newest establishment around, but the music’s great and the drinks are cheap.’

Gemma laughed. ‘I wouldn’t think you’d care much if the drinks were cheap or not.’

Damian flashed her a wicked grin. ‘Watch the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves,’ he quipped. ‘Light me a cigarette, would you? They’re on the dash there, and there’s a lighter in my left trouser pocket. Can’t get it myself. Must concentrate on the road. This traffic’s hell.’

The traffic on the Pacific highway was indeed bad. Every man and his dog seemed to be heading for the city. Nevertheless, Gemma felt very uncomfortable doing something as intimate as fishing around in Damian’s trouser pocket. Luckily, she found the lighter quickly and was soon placing a glowing cigarette between Damian’s lips. Their eyes met briefly as she did so and Gemma quickly looked away. For there had been nothing platonic in the look Damian had just given her. It had been oddly intense.

Either that, or her imagination was getting the better of her. The latter seemed the most likely.

Damian had always been a perfect gentleman in her company. Always. Nathan’s wicked warnings had put the fear of the devil into her, Gemma decided. Listening to scurrilous gossip about people was wrong. And listening to unfounded fears was wrong too. She resolved not to do it any more.

With this in mind Gemma turned a smiling face back towards Damian. ‘It’s really sweet of you to take me out like this. I really needed it. I was feeling awfully down.’

‘I know, honey, I know,’ he said kindly. ‘Leave it to dear old Uncle Damian. He knows exactly what you need to cheer you up...’

CHAPTER FOUR

LUKE wouldn’t normally have been seen dead at a dance party. At thirty, he considered himself too old for such goings-on. He’d briefly gone through a stage for a couple of years after finishing uni where he haunted clubs, pubs and discos every Friday and Saturday night, but those days were long gone. His life was Campbell Jewels now.

He’d only come here tonight as a favour to his mother. Apparently his kid sister, Mandy, had been coming here nearly every Friday night lately and his mother wanted him to check the place out. Luke thought she was being over-protective, since Mandy was twenty and a very sensible girl, but he’d promised to drop in and see for himself if there was anything to worry about.

He stood in a corner of the room, shaking his head at what was before his eyes. How had he ever enjoyed this kind of thing? The screechingly loud music was enough to give anyone an instant migraine. Add to this the garish lights flashing on and off, the heavy pall of smoke and the crush of a hundred sweaty gyrating bodies in an area where possibly fifty might comfortably have fitted, and you had a scene he found quite repulsive.

Still, Luke wasn’t too old that he couldn’t appreciate Mandy would quite like such an atmosphere, but he was perturbed by how open the drug use was. Nobody bothered to hide the pill-popping and marijuana-smoking. Luke had also seen a couple of suspicious-looking packages changing hands and quite a few empty syringes in the bins in the toilet block. He began to worry if Mandy made a habit of coming to this place she might end up not being so sensible.

So Luke stayed in the dimly lit corner and waited, hoping she would show up and he could have a brotherly word in her ear. But after a further half-hour’s peering through the smoke haze Mandy still hadn’t turned up. He was about to leave when his attention was suddenly captured by a man dressed in black, an exceptionally handsome man with slick black hair, wicked black eyes and flashing white teeth.

Luke was not at all surprised to see Damian Campbell in a place like this. Everyone around Campbell’s knew of his reputation for decadent living. He liked to mix with a young fast crowd. He liked his women beautiful, and he didn’t care if they were married.

The girl with Damian was certainly beautiful, and very married.

Luke recognised Gemma Whitmore from the photograph in last Sunday’s paper of her attending the première to Nathan’s Whitmore’s latest play. She’d been snapped alongside Celeste and Nathan’s adoptive father, Byron Whitmore.

Now Luke was an astute man. He’d long known about the feud between the Campbells and the Whitmores. But one didn’t have to be too astute to have noticed that something was afoot between the two families. Celeste Campbell and Byron Whitmore were suddenly as thick as thieves. Yet while that old feud business seemed to have gone out of the window, Luke still didn’t think this extended to Damian draping himself all over Nathan Whitmore’s wife.

Luke smelled a rat. And there wasn’t a bigger rat around Sydney than Damian Campbell.

Luke watched his antics with distaste. The man was a real sleaze-bag. Under the guise of dancing, he was touching Mrs Whitmore wherever he could, finally putting her arms around his neck then curving his hands over her buttocks, pulling her hard against him.

Suddenly, the girl wrenched away from him, swaying violently on her feet. The look on her face was one of total confusion. It was then that Luke realised she was under the influence of some drug or other. Alcohol was unlikely to produce that type of bewilderment. He decided to edge closer and see if he could pick up some of their conversation.

‘I...I don’t think I like it here, Damian,’ the girl was saying in a very slurred voice. Her hand fluttered up to her forehead. ‘I...I feel hot, and sort of funny. You’d better take me home.’

‘I’ll get you a cool drink first,’ Damian offered, and led her over to a wall where he virtually propped her against it. ‘Stay here. I won’t be long.’

Luke didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to tangle with Damian Campbell, especially not after just being given the job as sales and marketing manager at Campbell’s. But Gemma Whitmore’s reactions bothered him. Clearly, she wasn’t sure what was going on. Luke suspected she hadn’t knowingly taken drugs. If she had, she wouldn’t be acting so confused over her condition.

With this thought in mind, Luke followed Damian to the bar and watched while the bastard slipped some powder into the orange juice, mixing it very well while his eyes darted slyly around. Damn, he was right! He was drugging that girl without her knowledge.

Yet it wasn’t any of his business, was it?

For a full ten minutes Luke argued with his conscience, then, with a resigned sigh, went in search of trouble. But Damian and the girl were no longer on the dance-floor or anywhere in the room. Swearing at himself, Luke raced outside to the car park where he spotted Damian leaning Mrs Whitmore against a car and kissing her. The girl’s arms were dangling limply by her sides, like a rag doll.

Luke felt fury well up inside him. He didn’t stop to think any longer, didn’t stop to count the cost of his actions, just charged across the car park, whirled Campbell away from the girl and socked him one right on the jaw.

No one was more surprised than Luke when Damian crumpled immediately, falling blessedly unconscious to the concrete. Luke didn’t think he’d even seen what hit him. Or who.

‘Hey!’ some bloke called out from a few cars away. ‘What’s going on there?’

Luke didn’t stay around for any explanations. He swooped up the girl from where she had slid down to sit blank-eyed on the ground, and virtually carried her over to where his own car was parked. Stuffing her into the passenger seat, he raced around to get in and screeched away before anyone could collar him. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, especially after a glimpse in the rear-view mirror showed Damian Campbell getting groggily to his feet.

It was only after he’d driven several blocks and felt secure that no one was following that he pulled over to the kerb and tried to assess the situation. Mrs Whitmore was slumped down in the passenger seat, moaning softly. Hell, what had the bastard fed her? Clearly too much of something. She was almost out of it.

There was nothing for it, really, but to take her home, to her husband. A glance at his watch showed eleven thirty-five. Would Nathan Whitmore be home? Luke had read about his hit play, the one he’d written and was directing. What time did plays end? And where was home, anyway? Mrs Whitmore was hardly in a position to tell him and she didn’t have any ID on her.

Spying a public telephone box on the next corner Luke decided to try calling him. If his number was in the book, that was. Damn, but this was becoming complicated. Luke almost regretted getting involved in the first place till he took another look at Gemma Whitmore’s sweetly innocent face. How could he have left her with that devil?

Luke had a change of luck. Nathan Whitmore’s number was in the book and he was home, answering quite quickly.

Luke kept his voice crisp and businesslike, hoping like hell that Nathan Whitmore was a sensible and reasonable man. He’d heard he was a cool customer, but men were not always cool when it came to their wives, especially beautiful young ones like his.

‘Mr Whitmore, this is Luke Barton. Sorry to bother you at this hour, but it was an emergency.’

‘Do I know you, Mr Barton?’ came a rather tired query.

‘Not personally. You may have heard of me. I’m an executive at Campbell Jewels. I was recently promoted to sales and marketing manager.’

‘Then haven’t you rung the wrong person? Any emergency at Campbell Jewels is hardly a concern of mine. Though maybe you could try my father,’ he added caustically.

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