Dancing With The Devil's Heir

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the sheaf of red roses in the delivery boy's arms. She knew, withou

ivienne

as his grin disappeared. The boy was only doing a job. He wasn't to know that the beautiful blooms gave her more torment than pleasure. Sh

nt with a typed note of instructions and a bank cheque-untraceable. She dragged her gaze up from the wax seal and caught the sparkle of suppressed laughter in the delivery boy'

oriety. Her stupid and indiscreet attempt to identify the sender ha

the lifts. Vivienne grimaced at his swaggering back. Only after he had gone did she step ba

es she could have dismissed. Anyone could be sending her roses on her birthday, one for each year

te and Rob and Farrell; made her wonder about every other man who had apparently been attracted to her... whether it was for her own self, or because of t

siege on her heart and mind... why didn't he make himself known to her? Why taunt her with words of lov

...selfish...and positively infu

and jammed the roses into it; roses so darkly red they were almost purple, and so deeply scented they

The game this man was playing was too patterned, too deliberately paced to have been conceived by a sick mind. This was someone

ly a fort

bandwagon. When he did declare himself, as he obv

re of the white stone coffee-table in the living-room. They look

the interior decorator who had been hired by her father to furnish the apartm

er studies and could earn her own living. But it had been worth it to get her medical degree. That could never

o her father-as she would do within a month or two, it would not have been c

f a real home, a place that was cosy and we

er again! She was letting his damned roses infiltrate her mind,

s sliding indecisively over the wax seal. Better for her

deny him the insidious fascination he work

as fairly certain that no one else in the world had got away with that. She had been only twelve years old at the time

would stand up to any man... or woman, if necessary. She was not going to let anyone

veness of the paper. She withdrew its contents with an angry sense of impatience...exactly the same style of card as on

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