CHAPTER ONE

Nowadays it seemed to Violetta Redzic that wherever she looked there was a child. A red faced toddler having a tantrum, a six month old giving a toothless grin to anyone who caught their eyes or the heart melting sight of a father cradling his newborn child. Sometimes she felt fate was taunting her, deliberately rubbing her nose in the fact that her own dream of motherhood was fading. Even in the opulent lounge of Melbourne’s Hotel Grande there was a delightful urchin amusing guests with her innocent antics.

Violetta closed her book and smiled tentatively down at the child. The young, girl gazed solemnly back before her chubby face broke into a dazzling smile and Violetta’s heart lurched. Violetta had thought she’d accepted her lot but deep down the embers of primal need to carry her child still smouldered. The girl’s intense scrutiny made Violetta feel that her whole soul was being stripped bare. Could the child read her thoughts? See her yearning and heartbreak? Violetta shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She’d years of practise hiding her pain but this child was getting under her skin, dissolving her walls, making her feel emotions she’d buried deep inside in a box marked ‘Do not open’.

‘Hello,’ Violetta said in a voice full of uncertainty. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Polly,’ the child replied, tilting her head to one side. ‘What’s yours?’

‘Violetta.’

‘Vi-o-let-ta,’ Polly repeated and giggled as if pleased with herself. ‘I go to Pre School now,’ she announced proudly, looking back at Violetta with a face full of trust and innocence before carefully counting out three fingers on her hand and holding them up for inspection. ‘I’m four.’ Violetta smiled at Polly’s innocence then sighed, for the child was still blissfully unaware of how frightening and dangerous the world could be.

Violetta searched the area looking for an anxious mother, father or other carer. Anybody who might be responsible for the curly mopped angel. Her dark, brown eyes scanned seemingly oblivious people enjoying their morning coffee, the soft melody from the baby grand piano washing over them but no one looked as if they’d mislaid a young child. No one. What on earth was the child doing here alone? Violetta’s eyes connected with the girl’s big, green ones and for a heartbeat she wanted to pick up the girl and run away with her, keeping her safe, giving her the love every child deserved. And receiving love in return.

A harsh laugh escaped her lips as she shook the crazy thoughts from her head. Life was what one made of it. She’d be better counting her blessings than focusing on what she didn’t have. And blessings she had in plenty. Her health, her own home, plenty of friends and unlike most other people a job she loved. She delighted in seeing one of her designs, a brooch or a necklace, become a reality and added to that joy came the knowledge that every day somewhere in the world one of her pieces of jewellery gave happiness to others. What more could she want? Family, a voice whispered in the deep recesses of her mind and continued to echo through her head. Family. A child of your own in your arms and a loving man by your side.

What should she do? Ignore the girl in the hope she would wander off and find her parents. No, she could never do that. She’d take her to the reception desk and let the hotel staff deal with the problem. But would the child go with her? She put out her hand out to Polly.

‘Shall we find your Mummy or Daddy?’ But when she looked down Polly had gone. In the few minutes Violetta had spent in daydream the little imp had lost interest in her new friend and skipped away. Violetta cursed herself for her stupidity and threw down her book. She would never be able to concentrate until she knew Polly was safe.

She stood quickly, too quickly for her left leg that gave way under her weight, numb with pins and needles. Violetta could see golden curls bobbing across the lounge towards the foyer where huge automatic sliding doors led out into the street. A busy Melbourne street. Although she had no idea about children she did know that Polly was not old enough to have the slightest knowledge about road rules. Stumbling and staggering like a drunk and mindless of strange looks from others patrons Violetta wove her way across the room in pursuit of Polly who she glimpsed through a large group of overseas tourists. The mass of bodies slowed her progress but lessened Violetta’s alarm. With so many people milling around the reception desk surely someone else would see the unaccompanied child and realise the potential danger she was heading to? The doors opened in a soundless glide and Violetta knew instinctively that Polly would slip through.

‘Stop that little girl,’ she called out, startling the crowd. Their confused and bewildered faces showing they had detected the alarm in her voice but failed to understood the command. Violetta pushed through the group wishing she’d called out earlier, run faster, hadn’t let her attention wander. She flew out of the hotel in time to see Polly teetering at the top of the wide, sandstone stairs.

‘No!’ Violetta yelled as if her frantic cry could stop the world, make everyone but herself freeze so she would have time. Time to get to Polly before she lost her footing on the wet step and hurtled head first onto the concrete pavement. Time to prevent a nasty injury. Violetta caught a flash of movement in her peripheral vision as from seemingly nowhere a man shot forwards, stretching out to catch the child as she lost her footing.

Violetta held her breathe as with athletic grace the man rolled, absorbing the fall while protecting Polly with his own body. Suddenly the pavement was swarming with people rushing to help and Violetta sagged against a stone pillar and breathed again. Almost dizzy with relief she forced her way through the crowd and fell heavily to her knees besides the man, her arms outstretched to the little girl. Polly looked around at the mass of strangers’ faces, her bottom lip quivering, her wide eyes filling with tears until she caught sight of Violetta’s familiar face.

‘Mummy,’ she whimpered softly and reached for Violetta. Violetta held Polly pressed closely to her body,

‘It’s okay. Hush now darling, it’s okay.’ she murmured soothingly into Polly’s ear. She was aware of the buzz of people who had gathered around and that Polly’s saviour now squatted beside her. She turned her face to the man, her eyes brimming with gratitude and her heart jerked violently as she encountered the most disturbing eyes she’d ever seen. Blue. Vivid blue but darkened with concern…or was it accusation? Or something else. Something that caused her pulse to race erratically and her breathing to shallow.

‘Thank you.’ Violetta whispered, barely able to find enough breath to speak the words as she stroked Polly’s hair and unconsciously rocked to and fro. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Shaken and probably stirred as well,’ the man said with deep chuckle before standing and towering over her while extending a helping hand to Violetta to her feet. His warm, strong clasp sent shivers of pleasure through her and her unsteadiness, as she stood owed less to the fact she had Polly in her arms and more to her legs refusing to respond to the signals from her brain. While his smile, his smile made every nerve in her body tingle and a warm sensation pool in her tummy. She shuddered recognising the charged physical attraction that had burst through every cell, every nerve ending in her body and closed her eyes briefly to allow the wave of desire to wash through her and dissipate.

Although the street swarmed with people going about their business Violetta’s world had shrunk to a few square metres of a Melbourne pavement and the population to one person. One man.

He reached out to Polly’s hair and a frisson of pleasure surged through Violetta as their hands lightly touched. The tenderness in his eyes as he looked at Polly brought a lump to her throat and made the air seem too thick to breath. Violetta ran her tongue tip over her parted lips and aware she was staring dragged her attention elsewhere.

‘Oh, you’ve grazed your hand,’ Violetta exclaimed glad of something to say to cover the confusion she felt. Confusion at how her body’s senses had burst into life making her totally aware of the tall, mesmerising man before her.

‘It’s nothing,’ he brushed away her concern using the bloodied hand to sweep back the fringe from his face. A square jawed, ruggedly handsome face. Those blue, blue eyes fringed with lashes darker than his hair and a wide, sensuous mouth made for laughing. Or kissing. She felt her face turning red and looked away. Away from his face to his body. A strong, powerful body wearing jeans and casual shirt. Clothes that were anything but clean and tidy since his roll on the wet pavement.

‘And your clothes. They’re wet and dirty. I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s nothing. Really.’ He looked from Violetta’s dark hair to Polly’s blonde curls and smiled. ‘That’s quite a live wire you have there.’

‘She’s was so quick. She was gone before I realised.’ Violetta swayed to and fro, while Polly squirmed in her arms. ‘Well, thank you again,’ she said softly, forcing their meeting to end, knowing it would be pointless to give in to her body’s urging and prolong it. He would be married, engaged. Certainly already spoken for and even if he wasn’t… Violetta felt her stomach muscles clench for under her expensive clothes lay an ugliness no man could ever desire. She had seen the truth of that in too many faces of potential lovers.

‘My pleasure.’ He flicked Polly’s rosy cheek with a forefinger. ‘Stay with your mother young lady.’ He spoke sternly but Polly seemed to correctly perceive the amusement in his eyes. The imp stopped whinging and smiled shyly back, before burying her face in Violetta’s shoulder again.

‘And a little flirt as well. You’ll certainly have your hands full when she’s older.’

‘But I’m-’ Too late. A nod, another smile and he turned and walked away. Of course he would assume she was Polly’s mother? Violetta longed to run after him, set him straight about Polly and herself. Ask him…ask him what? Not to walk out of her life as quickly as he’d entered it. She shut her eyes for a moment remembering everything about that brief meeting. The dark ring of blue around his iris and the golden flecks in his eyes and how the sun, now shining after a brief downpour, had lit up blonder highlights in his dark brown hair. How the clouds in her life had dissolved under the warmth of his smile.

Arms clasping her neck and Polly’s wriggling body brought her attention back to the child in her arms, Polly. Polly, right. Stop fantasising. Find mother. Violetta tightened the hold she had on Polly, she wasn’t about to put her down and risk her running off again.

‘No second chances for you, my girl,’ she muttered under her breath vowing that when she reunited Polly with her carer she intended to give them a huge piece of her mind. She didn’t care who they were, where they were or who was around to hear.

The child’s smooth soft cheek brushed Violetta’s as she snuggled in her arms. Polly smelt of soap, biscuits and something else. An alien scent on one so young. A male musky smell and Violetta guessed it was the stranger’s after-shave, transferred onto Polly when he’d held her. Violetta breathed in the scent, her body flaring with longing and she buried her face in Polly’s golden curls ashamed at how desperate she’d become. As she climbed the steps, the hotel doors opened and a woman hurtled out.

‘Polly, Polly, where are you. Polly,’ her voice hovered on the edge of tears as she searched desperately up and down the street before sighting Violetta with the child in her arms.

‘Thank God,’ the woman said, stumbling towards them her arms outstretched. ‘Thank you, thank you.’ Violetta saw the woman’s hands trembled as she took her daughter, her eyes and hands checking the girl with the same searching intensity a parent gives to a newborn babe. A mother unable to believe their child is safe and unharmed until they’ve checked for themselves. Watching the mother rain kisses on the laughing child’s face Violetta’s recriminations died on her lips. Her harsh words killed by the fear and anguish that had aged the mother ten years moments earlier. Violetta’s hands clenched painfully at her sides as she watched Polly’s chubby arms wrap around her mother’s neck and press her rosebud mouth to the woman’s moist cheeks.

A savage pain wracked her chest and she wanted to scream at the unfairness of life. Why couldn’t she have a child to love, cherish, protect? She quickly glanced away blinking fiercely and proudly to maintain her composure. Polly’s mother started explaining, speaking over Violetta’s attempts to cease the flow but the woman needed to talk, to vent her emotions. Once started the words rushed like water over a breached dam.

‘She’s just over a bout of gastro. I never dreamt she’d recover so soon. But they do, don’t they? Quicker than us. We were waiting for my husband in the lounge. Polly was playing with her dolls at my feet and I closed my eyes for a moment. Only a moment, not to sleep, only to rest them.’ The woman rattled on as Violetta schooled her features into polite interest while they walked through the automatic doors. ‘We’ve had a lot of sleepless nights recently. You know how it is with children.’

Violetta bit back the retort that sprang to her lips. No, she didn’t know, would never know and the effort of keeping the anguish in and hidden made her grit her teeth together until they hurt. But before they parted Violetta couldn’t deny herself one more touch of the child’s smooth silky cheek. She wished them both goodbye as Polly waved enthusiastically to her over her mother’s shoulder.

Violetta returned to her chair, breathing a sigh of relief to see her handbag still where she’d left it. Escaping the bustle of the busy hotel and to regain her composure Violetta hurried to her room where she changed out of her damp, soiled skirt into lightweight pants. Standing at the window looking down at the city Violetta rolled her shoulders in an attempt to slough off her muscle tightness. Thank heavens she had a massage booked this morning with a manicure and pedicure. Almost a year ago she had won a pampering pack in a raffle and also thrown in was an afternoon of shopping.

Violetta had never indulged herself to such a degree and deliberately chose to take her prize after a visit to her mother. That always left her a knotted mess of emotions for Violetta carried the weight of every maternal hope and expectation on her slight shoulders. And maternal fear. Fear that one day she would lose her daughter, as she had her husband and son. Her mother loved her dearly and that was the problem. Sometimes Violetta thought her mother loved her too much.

She still had sometime before the spoiling began so picked up her book and curled up in the room’s large, soft chair. She’d use reading to forget the confusion and turmoil of the last fifteen minutes. Everyone had their way of escaping the problems in their lives or relaxing. For Violetta reading did both. It was cheap, easy to do and safe. She didn’t need team mates or an opponent. And she didn’t need the adrenalin rush from exciting sports. Give her books any day. They had been her lifeline during the months she’d spent in hospital, taking her away from the pain of her injuries and the grief of her brother’s death. But not her father’s abandonment. Nothing had eased the pain of that betrayal. Reading would absorb her and help block out unwelcome cravings for husband and child.

Settling more comfortably in her chair she picked up her book and prepared to expel all thoughts of children and startlingly blue eyes from her mind. Try as she might she couldn’t banish the memory of Polly’s young body pressed to hers or a handsome stranger able to steal a heart with a smile. Oh, she was being ridiculous, she told herself shaking her head. But for a millisecond her world had held everything she wanted. A child and a protective and caring man.

Now she really had ventured into the realms of fantasy. Surely she had imagined the flash of mutual attraction that had swept through her as quickly as a summer storm. She knew she hadn’t mistaken the way she’d tingled all over when their hands had touched, or the rapid beating of her heart. If only, she mused…then resolutely went back to her reading, but the words blurred as tears filled her eyes.

Once she believed she had only to wish for something and it happened. Admittedly her wishes were simpler. A piece of her mother’s newly baked cake or a ride on her father’s shoulders. Her hand in her brother Tim’s or the thrill of finding a piece of potch, worthless opal without the brilliance of colour, but enough to entrance a young girl. Once her life had been as uncomplicated as that.

She tried to focus on the words swimming before her, making no sense as she sat rigid in her chair. All the peace she’d hoped to gain in this break following the emotionally charged time with her mother evapourated like the early morning mist over the Barossa Valley vineyards. Never had a chance meeting unsettled her more or grown to such momentous proportions in her mind and never had Violetta fully realised until now just what she’d lost, the day her world caved in.

For an hour Violetta had been kneaded like dough and nearly drowned in scented oils. Her finger and toe nails buffeted until they gleamed. Now her cut and styled hair was full of products making it feel stiff and unnatural. As for the make-up, she felt like a painted doll and was too scared to smile in case it cracked. She put down her coffee cup, noticing her lipstick imprint of her lip on the rim. She had enjoyed a light lunch and was determined to finish her book before setting out on her shopping this afternoon. She intended to use the opportunity to do some early Christmas shopping knowing that as the year advanced her work load would increase to ridiculous amounts.

Some primitive instinct or awareness caused Violetta to look up, in time to see the man she’d been attempting to banish from her mind crossing the foyer to the lifts with long, easy strides. Everything faded from her mind as she followed his progress. Something about him was different she thought. It took her a blink to realise what it was. He wore different clothes and it dawned on her that he must be a fellow guest at the hotel. She moved her book so she could peer carefully over the top while pretending to be engrossed in her reading.

Oh for heaven’s sake! What on earth was the matter with her today? She’d never been the type of woman who gazed longingly at men nor lust after them from a distance. A secret throbbing deep within caused her to squirm in her chair and cross her legs, firmly suppressing whatever sexual demons inside her demanding to be released. A hot flush burned through her and she placated herself by blaming her irrational behaviour on hormones and the steady ticking of her body clock, that at times seemed so loud she wondered why others didn’t hear it.

Violetta shuddered, as she glimpsed what she saw herself becoming. An old maid who lusted secretly after strange men, frustrated at never having known the intimate secrets of lovemaking and bitter that the joys of motherhood had passed her by. In the corner of her heart she had always known that was the truth of her future, but it was only now, when faced with the stark reality that she finally found the courage to admit it.

‘How’s Polly?’ The voice sent ripples of pleasure up and down her spine and something else, something she didn’t even want to name. The object of her desire stood looking down at her, no longer smiling and with a hard tinge in his blue eyes that troubled Violetta in another way altogether. Fear? The lounge chair was low and he towered over her making her feel vulnerable and trapped beneath his accusing stare.

‘I don’t know. She-’

‘You don’t know,’ he interrupted harshly. ‘What sort of mother are you. Where is she now? Climbing out of high windows or perhaps frolicking amongst the traffic?’ He flung his arm towards the doors, his gesture expressing the fury that was growing within. No longer was she as fresh faced as nature intended and that enraged Karl even more.

Her perfectly shaped eyebrow arched in question above smoky blue eye shadow and lips that this morning had been pink and natural now glistened a deeper rose. This woman sitting before him may be beautiful but if she put more effort into being a better mother than her looks her child’s life would be safer.

The heat of his anger poured over Violetta drying the moisture in her mouth making speech impossible but she understood his rage and wrestled to keep a check on her own temper. She lifted her chin until her brown eyes clashed with his,

‘You’ve assumed I’m her mother,’ she said coolly and waited for a stumbling apology.

‘Aren’t you?’ He shot back, a sceptical note in his words that made her bristle.

‘No I’m not.’ Violetta stated emphatically, still holding his eyes with her own.

‘Nanny?’ Karl persisted, wanting to ensure there were no entanglements while his busy brain reorganised his day intending now to take their fledgling relationship up another level. This was a woman he wanted and if it was only for one night, then he’d take it.

‘No.’

‘Then who are you?’ He would reschedule his day, wine her and dine her and then…He felt himself harden at his thoughts and was surprised at the speed he’d reacted. Hell he hadn’t been without a woman that long. It was this woman sitting before him who was having such an impact on him.

‘A stranger, like you, trying to help a little girl.’ He saw her eyes darken at how things might have ended without his help. ‘Only unlike you I didn’t succeed.’

‘But at least you tried,’ he consoled, inspecting her left hand for a gold band and feeling ridiculously elated by its absence. She wore rings on both hands. Opals he noticed with approval. Set in simple but stylish designs. A reflection of the woman wearing them for everything about her from her short, dark hair to the tailored pants and white blouse spoke of quiet understatement. Or it had when he’d met her this morning. Now she looked like any other woman who’d had their flawless complexion painted on.

Violetta stared fascinated at his tall, powerful frame standing over her, now clothed in casual cream pants and the blue of his open necked shirt emphasised the blue of his eyes. Should she ask him to sit down or pick up her book? Her heart beat a frantic tattoo as she teetered on a pivotal moment in her life. She wanted him, wanted him enough to forget her preconceived views on love and marriage. Nervously she ran the tip of her tongue along her dry lips and he smiled. A smile of delicious anticipation.

He sat down in the seat opposite, leaning towards her, as relaxed as she was taut. His arms rested casually on his thighs with his hands, almost touching her leg. If either moved a fraction they would touch. He proffered his hand,

‘Karl,’ he said simply.

After a moment’s hesitation Violetta slipped her own into his and shook it briefly, noticing the strength beneath his gentle hold.

‘Violetta,’ she replied. Karl wrinkled his brow in thought. Violetta, surely he knew that name. Had heard it somewhere before but the where and when eluded him. Should he ask for her family name? He decided not to, best keep things as anonymous as possible. The name Karl Hartmann might not be a household name but many of his companies certainly were. He didn’t want to complicate what he might have tonight with money.

‘Violetta, unusual but very beautiful. Like yourself.’ He commented and Violetta rejoiced in the way her name had become a caress. ‘Slavic?’

‘Macedonian. My grandparents emigrated here as displaced persons after the war.’ She heard the words came out in a hurried babble as Karl nodded politely and could have bitten her tongue for letting it run away with information he couldn’t possibly care about. But he didn’t seem bored just genuinely interested.

‘My folks came here a bit earlier than that, in the 1830s also hoping to start a new life safe from war and religious persecution,’ he told her. ‘So already we have something in common.’

His eyes searched her face as if looking for answers to questions only he knew while she sat listening to the rapid beating of her heart as it pumped blood through her overheated body. She didn’t know what to say, was too scared to move in case she broke this wonderful spell that had been woven around her. Karl still held her hand and she withdrew hers quickly, turning her face to hide her confusion and mounting excitement. Karl shook his head slightly and laughed softly,

‘So where do we go from here Violetta?’

‘I don’t think I understand,’ she stammered while her heart leapt at what she hoped he was suggesting. Did this mesmerising man really want to know her better?

‘Don’t you?’ he said, his strong sensual mouth curved in a teasing smile. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Maybe,’ she tried to smile archly in a cool, sophisticated way but felt she failed miserably. ‘Why don’t you tell me?’

An idea was forming in her head. Crazy probably, stupid certainly but they were strangers, two ships passing in the night. It was unlikely they would be anything more. No time or emotion had been invested in the relationship so what had she got to lose? Nothing. She’d lost all her dignity and vanity years ago.

If this stunningly divine man really was trying to pick her up. Wanted to make love to her she’d grab the chance willingly, be a fool not to. Could she throw all caution to the wind and risk his rejection? She glanced at him again and her bubble of excitement burst. A man like Karl would have women at his beck and call. When he saw what was under her stylish designer clothes he too would turn away revolted. Other women in the lounge, far lovelier than Violetta, were already throwing him appreciative glances and she knew he would always have his pick of perfection. He needn’t settle for damaged goods.

‘Let me buy you lunch as a way of apologising for earlier my rudeness.’ His words plunged Violetta’s roller coaster ride of hope back down to earth and she cursed herself for being an idiot. Lunch, all he wanted was lunch and probably someone to entertain him while he ate. That was all.

Thank heavens she hadn’t acted on her initial impulse to lean across and kiss him on the mouth. It wasn’t her he wanted to eat. He regarded her, tilting his head slightly as if trying to read the change in her mood.

‘Unfortunately I’m busy this afternoon and won’t be free until later this evening,’ he continued ‘but we can take up where we left off then, if you want.’

His words coiled around her enveloping her in a sensual blanket. Did he guess the effect he was having on her and that she was fighting primal urgings of her own body? ‘So Violetta, will you join me for lunch?’

It took every ounce of willpower Violetta had to pick up her book and place it in her handbag. Every last scrap to stand to her feet and look down into his eyes before answering,

‘Thank you for your offer but I’ve already eaten.’ She saw surprise briefly cross his face and as he opened his mouth to speak she quickly cut off his words. ‘And I’m also very busy this afternoon. I have to go shopping.’

Violetta didn’t know if she imagined a subtle hardening of his features when he slowly nodded, accepting her refusal with good grace. Part of her willed him to follow her as she walked away but why would he? As she left the lounge Violetta noticed an exquisite blonde woman move towards her vacant seat sighed. A man like Karl would never be without a female presence for long. And she had chosen to walk away.

Karl watched her go, loving the way she moved and wondering what thoughts had caused the clouds to mar her lovely face. He would swear by all the knowledge he had of women that she was as attracted to him as he was to her. Had witnessed her internal struggles and wasn’t about to let her go. She was an enigma he wanted to solve.

He stood, ignoring the pouting lips of the woman now sitting in the seat so recently occupied by Violetta. Karl glanced at his watch, pursing his lips at how late he now was. He hated causing inconvenience to others but that couldn’t be avoided today. His day was filled with meetings and now he had another one to fit in his punishing schedule. One where he was determined to have the controlling votes. A meeting with a dark haired, dewy eyed woman called Violetta.

Violetta held her head high as the foyer blurred before her as her eyes yet again welled up and tears threatened to fall. This was ridiculous. For a person who never cried she was doing a fair imitation of a leaky tap. Blinking hard she forced the tears back, swallowing her regret but knowing how damaging it was to hold onto to false hope. She was destined to live and die a virgin.

Deep in her heart she had known that from her only abortive attempt at sex with a man who’d said he loved her. A life without sex might have been supportable if she wasn’t cruelly aware that she had a passionate, almost wanton side to her nature. A side that had been repressed for so long that sometimes it seemed to be clawing its way to the surface of Violetta’s consciousness, determined to force her to satisfy her baser needs. Violetta recognised it was that part of her who had lusted after a beautiful stranger, had encouraged him with her smiles and who now groaned with rage and frustration as she heard the invitation to lunch being refused.

Violetta left the hotel glad to escape from the possibility of running into Karl again. Should he repeat his offer she knew she wouldn’t have the will power to refuse again. She needed to escape her body’s yearnings and turmoil of emotion that were so alien to her. She had to keep her mind occupied, stop herself being alone with her thoughts, thoughts that were nothing short of pornographic as she imagined her body entwined with Karl’s, hot, sweaty and … that was enough she told herself, giving the wanton Jezebel a mental slap across the face.

She needed a distraction, a strong distraction. And shopping wasn’t good enough. What she needed was something that immersed her totally, so completely that nothing else mattered, where she forgot to stop for meals or rest. And for Violetta that could only mean one thing. Work. It didn’t matter that she was still on holiday, she had to do something to blot Karl’s face from her mind.

Violetta left the hotel at a determined pace, turning left down Collins Street towards the ‘Paris end’ of the city. Having never been to France Violetta didn’t know whether the tree lined street did resemble the city for lovers, she did know that Melbourne with its theatres, art galleries and restaurants was a dream of a city in which to live. And to shop.

As unerring as a bloodhound on the scent she found the jewellery shops, choosing to concentrate on stores that catered for the tourists. Every year overseas visitors readily parted with their hard-earned money for a piece of opal, Australia’s famous gemstone. Violetta wanted to see what they got for their money. For a while now, she had been urging her department head to expand into the tourist market. Giving more people the chance to buy affordable, but quality jewellery. She would collect some data and reintroduce the topic again at the next department meeting. Robin Dyson, her head of department, was a good, if unadventurous soul but frustrating to work with. He wanted to retain the status quo and never move forwards. Maybe that’s what having a family and a mortgage did to a man. Made him too afraid to take any risks.

An hour later Violetta was feeling more strung out than ever as she peered into a glass cabinet and shuddered. A stunning boulder opal had been set with a pink tourmaline making the overpriced bracelet look tawdry and successfully quenching the vibrant beauty of both stones. She nodded to the shop assistant as she meandered around the displays. Occasionally a piece would catch her eye drawn by the quality of the stone and the dancing display of colour. Violetta liked to keep her designs simple, relying on the depth of colour of each individual opal to provide the wearer with everything the gem had to offer. Style, beauty, mystery.

And it was a mystery to her that the earth could make and hold whole rainbows trapped in a single gem. It was even more a mystery as to how she, Violetta Redzic, who hated the opal as much as she loved it, would make a successful living working with it. Although she used other stones the pieces that gave her most joy were the ones containing the enigmatic opal.

She arrived back at the hotel weighed down with shopping bags from designer boutiques knowing that nearer Christmas she would be relieved all her presents had been bought. As she walked to the lifts she kept her eyes firmly ahead. No more lost children, no more temptation. She jabbed the lift call button as savagely as if it was responsible for her turmoil.

The doors opened and Violetta stepped inside smiling to the man standing by the buttons. Only when she moved to the back of the lift did she become aware of the third occupant. As the doors slowly shut Violetta realised who that person was and tried to adopt an air of nonchalance. Could she pretend to have forgotten something and squeeze out through the doors? How stupid would that look and how obvious. She stood beside Karl, looking at the doors, knowing her cheeks were reddening under his brief glance.

‘Did you have a nice lunch?’ she asked her tone one of neutral friendly interest feeling it would be childish to pretend they hadn’t spoken earlier in the day.

‘Nice but lonely,’ he replied as the lift stopped for the other man to exit leaving Violetta trapped in a metal box with the man who’d resurrected with a glance all the emotions she’d spent the afternoon burying. She edged to the far side of the lift, putting as much distance between them for he was close, too close and all the wanton need she had been denying pooled warm and sensuous inside her. The air in the lift thickened and the rush of her blood through her head sounded like the beating of distant drums. It’s steady rhythm pounding out a warning that she was helpless to heed.

She wanted Karl to kiss her, hold her pinned to his powerful body while the muscles in his arms encircled her slight frame. He was so perfect she hungered to touch him, run her fingers over his body to assure herself that he was real and with those thoughts her nipples tightened within her bra and she bit down on her bottom lip to stop a small moan escaping.

The silence in the enclosed space throbbed with sexual tension and Violetta willed the lift to hurry its agonizingly slow ascent to her floor. She rummaged in her handbag for her passkey as the lift jerked to a halt and the doors opened.

‘Goodbye Karl.’ The words were barely a whisper and totally wasted for he stepped out beside her, taking the same corridor and stopping with her at her door.

Karl took the security key from her unresisting grasp, knowing that he only had one more chance with Violetta. Never had he been so lost for words when he needed them most. How did he explain to this beautiful woman that it wasn’t purely sex? He wanted to know her, not only her body but also her mind. That the second he’d set eyes on her he hadn’t wanted to let her out of his sight.

With a teleconference in his suite due to commence in five minutes he had a few moments to stop Violetta fading out of his life. In a split second he sensed that there were no words for what he needed, only actions.

Slowly and tentatively Karl took her face between his hands, turning her face up towards him and placing his lips over hers, softly at first, then with more urgency as he failed to get the response he desperately needed. Violetta’s mouth lay unresisting beneath his. For a heartbeat Karl feared he’d made a terrible mistake, would have a charge of sexual assault to defend. Then he felt her body soften and lean into his, encouraging his arms to pull her closer, melding the length of their bodies together.

With a groan of surrender Violetta dropped her shopping at their feet and wrapped her arms tight around his neck, arching up to meet his warm, steadily deepening kisses. She needed the strong bracing of his body for when his tongue entered her mouth, gliding over hers, her legs buckled and she brushed against the hardness of his erection. He pulled her even closer against his groin and heedless of where they were she lifted one long leg, wrapping it around his hip to hold him there.

A door slammed nearby and dimly Violetta heard through the mingled sounds of their breathing the metallic clatter of a walking frame then a loud, dramatic clearing of a throat.

‘Have a little courtesy for your fellow guests and do that sort of thing behind closed doors,’ ordered a sharp female voice. Violetta buried her flaming face in Karl’s shoulder, breathing him in, with each ragged breath savouring his distinctive male perfume. She felt a chuckle begin in his chest and rise to his throat and although she couldn’t see him could hear the smile in his voice.

‘Madam, I’m trying my best,’ he told the formidable old lady glaring at them both.

‘Well try harder,’ she harrumphed before continuing on her way to the lift as Violetta smothered a laugh, embarrassed by her behaviour. What must they have looked like?

‘Phew, what a battle axe,’ laughed Karl as he rested his forehead on hers and took her hand in a light clasp. ‘I really have to go for I have business which may not end until late.’ He raised her hand to his mouth, placing a lingering kiss on the palm. ‘If I return later will I be welcome?’

‘Yes,’ Violetta breathed, never before realising how erotic the tongue tip on a palm could be.

‘Good,’ he nibbled a fingertip, while his eyes held hers. A look of intimacy that made the muscles of her stomach clench and a wave of primitive, heated need wash over her. For a moment she forgot how to breathe, how to speak,

‘But…’ she stammered and Karl lifted his eyebrows in question. Violetta hurried on before she lost her nerve. She had to forewarn him that although she may look like a woman of the world really her sexual experiences added up to very little. And she had been kidding herself that another rejection wouldn’t hurt. Karl turning away in disgust would destroy all her self-confidence because here was a man she desperately wanted. All other men in her life paled into insignificance. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, you’ll probably be disappointed.’ His mouth found hers again, more like a nibble than a kiss.

‘Never.’ He was so certain, so confident that Violetta longed to believe that this time everything would be wonderful. All she’d ever imagined and it would erase every memory of her previous humiliating experience.

‘I’m not good in bed,’ she told him with brutal honesty. ‘I freeze.’ Which wasn’t strictly true but better to let him think her cold than repulsive.

‘Then I’ll melt you.’ He said against her lips and when the kiss became real, intoxicating, her world spun while her whole being bubbled with the effervescence flowing through her veins. ‘Because unless you’re a big tease I’d swear you aren’t an ice maiden.’

‘Karl,’ she placed both her hands on his chest, holding him off a fraction, feeling the warmth of his body through the fabric of his shirt and raised anxious brown eyes to his. ‘I’m still a virgin.’ She confessed and now he was sure to wonder what was wrong with her? An attractive woman in this and day and age still unbedded.

‘Are you deliberately trying to put me off?’ his eyes crinkled in amusement, while the back of his hand trailed lightly down her cheek. ‘Because it’s not working?’

‘I’m just trying to temper expectations,’ she explained, desperate to avoid searing disappointment for them both. Maybe she was making a mistake being so open because now he might want only to make love to her for the challenge, wanting to be the first. Violetta was old enough and been around plenty of men in all sorts of levels of inebriation to know how some of them felt about virgins. Deflowering the maiden still rated high in the male fantasy list.

‘I don’t have any except one.’ He breathed the words into her ear, causing a quiver to run down her spine.

‘What?’ she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Her eyes drinking in his raw masculinity and strength so different from any one she’d ever known.

‘Tonight we will make love. How good it will be is entirely up to us. Both of us. The responsibility is not yours alone.’ He opened her door and handed her the passkey. ‘Now I really do have to go.’ Again his kiss was sizzling, leaving her breathless and shaking. ‘But I will be back so I’d advise you to get some sleep now. You won’t get much tonight.’ His lips touched her light but lingering and full of desire. ‘That’s a promise.’