The Guardian's Forbidden Mistress. Miranda LeeЧитать онлайн книгу.

      TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON

       AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND

      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 SIXTEEN

      EPILOGUE

      CHAPTER ONE

      SEVEN years later…

      A frown formed on Sarah’s forehead as she watched Derek turn from the crowded bar and slowly make his way back to their table, a full champagne glass in each hand.

      In the time it had taken him to be served, she’d begun to worry about having accepted his invitation for a Christmas drink.

      Sarah comforted herself with the thought that in the six months Derek had been her personal trainer, he’d never made a pass, or crossed the line in any way, shape or form.

      But there was a definite twinkle in his eye as he handed her a glass, then sat down with his.

      ‘This is very nice of you,’ she said carefully.

      Sarah’s heart sank when he beamed back at her.

      ‘I am nice,’ he said. ‘And no, I’m not coming on to you.’

      ‘I didn’t think you were,’ she lied before taking a relieved sip of the bubbly.

      ‘Yes, you did.’

      ‘Well…’

      Derek laughed. ‘This is just a little celebratory drink. One you deserve after all your hard work. But do be careful over the Christmas break. I don’t want you coming back to me at the end of January in the same shape you were in six months ago.’

      Sarah pulled a face at the memory. ‘Trust me. I won’t ever let that happen again.’

      ‘Never say never.’

      Sarah shook her head as she put down her glass. ‘I’ve done a lot of thinking while you’ve been working my blubbery butt off these past few months, and I’ve finally come to terms with the reason behind my comfort-eating.’

      ‘So what’s his name?’ Derek asked.

      ‘Who?’

      ‘The reason behind your comfort-eating.’

      Sarah smiled. ‘You’re a very intuitive man.’

      Derek shrugged. ‘Only to be expected. Gay men are very simpatico to matters of the heart.’

      Sarah almost spilled her wine.

      ‘You didn’t suspect at all, did you?’

      Sarah stared across the table at him. ‘Heavens, no!’

      ‘I dislike guys who advertise their sexual preference by being obvious, or overly camp. Other gays sometimes guess, and the odd girl or two.’

      ‘Really?’ Even now that she knew the truth, Sarah couldn’t detect anything obviously gay in Derek. Neither could any of the women who worked out at the gym, if the talk in the female locker room was anything to go by. Most of the girls thought him a hunk.

      Whilst Sarah conceded Derek was attractive—he had nice blue eyes, a great body and a marvellous tan—she’d never been attracted to fair-haired men.

      ‘So now that you know I’m not making a beeline for you,’ Derek went on, ‘how about answering my earlier question? Or do you want to keep your love life a secret?’

      Sarah had to laugh. ‘I don’t have a love life.’

      ‘What, none at all?’

      ‘Not this last year.’ She’d had boyfriends in the past. Both at university and beyond. But things always ended badly, once she took them home to meet Nick.

      Next to Nick, her current boyfriend always came across as lacklustre by comparison. Time after time, Sarah would become brutally aware that she wanted Nick more than she ever did other men. Nick also had the knack of making comments that forced her to question whether her boyfriend was interested in her or her future inheritance.

      Yet Sarah didn’t imagine for one moment that Nick undermined her relationships for any personal reasons. That would mean he cared who she went out with. Which he obviously didn’t. Nick had made it brutally obvious since becoming her guardian that he found the job a tiresome one, only to be tolerated because of his affection for and gratitude to her father.

      Oh, he went through the motions of looking after her welfare, but right from the beginning he’d used every opportunity to shuffle her off onto other people.

      The first Christmas after she’d left school, he’d sent her on an extended overseas holiday with a girlfriend and her family. Then he’d organised for her to live on campus during her years at university, where she’d specialised in early-childhood teaching. When she’d graduated and gained a position at a primary school out in the western suburbs of Sydney, he’d encouraged her to rent a small unit near the school, saying it would take her far too long to drive to Parramatta from Point Piper every day.

      Admittedly this was true, and so she had done as he suggested. But Sarah had always believed Nick’s motive had been to get her out of the house as much as possible, so that he was free to do whatever he liked whenever he liked. Having her in a bedroom two doors down the hallway from his was no doubt rather restricting.

      A well-known man-about-town, Nick ate women for breakfast and spat them out with a speed which was breathtaking. Every time Sarah went home he had a different girlfriend installed on his arm, and in his bed, each one more beautiful and slimmer than the next.

      Sarah hated seeing him with them.

      Last year Sarah had restricted her home visits to Easter and Christmas, plus the winter school break, during which Nick had been away, skiing. This year she hadn’t been home since Easter, and Nick hadn’t complained, readily accepting her many and varied excuses. When she finally went home on Christmas Eve tomorrow, it would be nearly nine months since she’d seen Nick in the flesh.

      And since he’d seen her.

      The thought made her heart flutter wildly in her chest.

      What a fool you are, Sarah, she castigated herself. Nothing will change. Nothing will ever change. Don’t you know that by now?

      Time to face the bitter truth. Time to stop hoping for a miracle.

      ‘His name his Nick Coleman,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘He’s been my legal guardian since I was sixteen, and I’ve had a mad crush on him since I was eight.’ She refused to call it love. How could she be in love with a man like Nick? He might have made a financial success of his life in the years since they’d first met, but he’d also become cold-blooded