Lynne GRAHAM
is one of Mills & Boonâs most popular and bestselling novelists. Her writing was an instant success with readers worldwide. Since her first book, Bittersweet Passion, was published in 1987, she has gone from strength to strength and now has over ninety titles, which have sold more than thirty-five million copies, to her name.
In this special collection, we offer readers a chance to revisit favourite books or enjoy that rare treasureâa book by a favourite writerâthey may have missed. In every case, seduction and passion with a gorgeous, irresistible man are guaranteed!
CHAPTER ONE
MATT FINLAY scanned Frankieâs shocked face and gave her a bracing smile. âI happen to think that Sardinia could be a very therapeutic trip for you. You could confront your memories of the love of your life and get it all out of your systemââ
âSantino was hardly the love of my life!â Frankie countered between gritted teeth, her whole body tense as a drawn bow.
Matt frowned with pretended concentration. âI seem to recall that every time you saw the bloke you went weak at the knees and your little teenybopper heart turned cartwheels!â
The evils of alcohol on a loose tongue at the office party, Frankie reflected painfully. One of those times when she had tried a little too hard to be accepted as one of the boys. She should have known Matt would throw that confession back in her face one day when it suited him. âI spent five of the worst years of my life in Sardinia. You canât blame me for not wanting to go back.â
âYou could be off the island again within forty-eight hours and go on to Italy. It wouldnât need to interfere with your holiday plans. Who else is there? Danâs still in France and Martyâs wife is due to give birth any day now...â
Frankie wanted to appeal to him again but her sense of fairness would not allow it. Their travel agency, of which she herself owned a sizeable share, specialised in self-catering accommodation abroad, and business had not been that good in recent months. They had lost more than the usualâ number of properties to competitors. Times were tough in the holiday market.
She squared her shoulders, a tall young woman with the sleek, graceful lines of a thoroughbred, dressed in a sharply tailored black trouser suit, quite deliberately chosen to play down her femininity. She had a fine bone structure, with clear green eyes fringed by ebony lashes and set below equally dark brows. Her burnished hair, a fiery combination of red, copper and gold, was worn in a French plait, embellished by a velvet bow clip. That clip was her one concession to being female.
âAnd youâre a native,â Matt mused with satisfaction. âThat has to be to our advantage.â
âIâm British,â Frankie reminded him flatly.
âSix villas on the Costa Smeralda. You check them out, sign up the owner, go on to Italy and weâre in business. And who knows...? By the time you come home from your holiday, you might even be in the mood to celebrate with me over a romantic dinner for two,â Matt suggested with a slow, suggestive smile.
Discomfited by that look, Frankie tensed and coloured. They were friends, but Matt had recently strained their friendship by trying to persuade her into a more intimate relationship. She had already told him as tactfully as she could that she wasnât interested and his persistence was making her increasingly uncomfortable. After all, not only did they work together, they also had to live under the same roof.
âNo chance,â she told him with a rather forced grin as she walked to the door.
âSometimes I hate your brother,â Frankie informed the smiling blonde manning the counter outside.
Leigh just laughed. âSardinia?â
âYou knew?â Frankie felt betrayed and knew she was being oversensitive. Neither of her friends could be expected to understand how threatened she felt by the thought of setting foot on the island again. After all, she hadnât told either of them the full truth of what had happened to her there. âWhy didnât you warn me?â
âMatt thought youâd take it better coming from him, and youâll only arrive for your holiday in Italy sooner,â Leigh pointed out cheerfully as she turned away to answer the phone.
Frankieâs long legs made short work of the stairs up to the spacious two-bedroom apartment which she had shared alone with Matt since Leigh had got married. She had moved in with the Finlay siblings three years earlier. Using the proceeds of an insurance policy which had matured when she was eighteen, she had bought into the business. The agency was on the ground floor of the same building. Since Frankie now spent most of her time travelling, spot-checking the standards of current properties and negotiating for new ones, she found the location very convenient.