missing.’

Her head was in a spin. Travis was making everything happen so fast, it was like being taken over by a whirling dervish. But a kindly dervish.

‘It’s nice of you to take so much trouble for me-’ she began.

But he shook his head firmly. ‘Let’s be clear about this. I’m not being nice. I’m doing it for myself. You’ll make me look respectable and that’ll get them off my back. That’s why I strong-armed you into it without asking your opinion first. Sheer bullying to get what I want. So don’t praise me. I’m just being selfish.’

She regarded him fondly. ‘So you’re being selfish?’

‘Horribly selfish.’ There was a twinkling devil in his eyes. ‘I don’t know how you can stand me for a moment.’

‘Neither do I,’ she agreed. ‘In fact, all I can say is-’ she paused for dramatic effect ‘-if that’s your idea of being selfish, I wish there were more selfish people in the world.’

‘So you’ll come?’

‘Just try to stop me.’

‘Fine, then it’s time for you to go back to your hotel and prepare for tonight. Rick, my driver, will take you.’

A quick phone call to summon the car, then he escorted her out to where it was waiting with Rick behind the wheel. He was an elderly man with a good-natured face.

‘Rick, this is Miss Wilkins, who’ll be coming to the Brenton dinner with me tonight.’

Rick was astounded. ‘But you said-’

‘Never mind that. Things have changed. I want you to take her to her hotel now, and return there for her tonight. See you both later.’

He waved and stepped back as the car headed out into the traffic.

‘Did I hear him right?’ Rick called over his shoulder. ‘The Brenton dinner?’

‘Yes, what’s the big deal? I know he’d planned not to go-’

‘You can say that again. Travis gets on well with most people, but not that one. Brenton tried to ruin his big chance.’

‘How?’

‘His son’s an agent, and he had his own candidate for the role. Brenton did all he could to talk the studio bosses out of giving it to Travis. He failed, so then he set out to get him fired. Spreading rumours, bad stories in the press. Didn’t work. Since then it’s been armed truce. Nobody expected Travis to go tonight. But now he’s going so that he can take you. Lady, you must be really something!’

The habit of years made her begin modestly, ‘Oh, I don’t think I’m-’ But then her courage rose. ‘As long as he thinks so, that’s all that matters.’

‘You said it!’

Charlene leaned back against the upholstery. Suddenly she was enjoying this, despite everything.

Rick delivered her to the hotel, waited while she collected her key, smiled and departed. She knew he’d regarded the surroundings with surprise. It was the kind of hotel described as ‘budget’, which meant that she had a dormitory room, shared with two other women. It wasn’t ideal, but the place was clean and efficient, and she could connect her laptop to the Internet. This she did as soon as she arrived, looking up Travis Falcon, and growing more wide-eyed the more she learned of him.

The basics she already knew. He was the son of Julia Franklin and Amos Falcon of the international Falcon dynasty. But now she learned that he’d started his career on the stage, graduated to tiny roles in films before being pounced on by the studio and cast in the series.

There were hints that his private life was colourful. He was a playboy who never seemed to stay with one girlfriend for long. He indulged in flirtations, not love. But until now his liveliness had stayed within acceptable bounds. The nightclub picture marked the start of a new phase, and Charlene could see why his bosses were concerned.

Studying the photographs, she had to admit that he was the handsomest man she’d ever seen. And the most charming. It wasn’t a matter of looks. His face had a magical ‘something’ that spoke of a lust for life, a readiness to dive in anywhere and try anything. He was filled with humour, sometimes bawdy, sometimes cheeky.

Actually, she mused, the man from heaven can be a bit of a devil. Good for him!

She remembered how he’d treated her that afternoon-kindly, gently, with warmth and understanding, and she thought she could see those things in his face. Most people would have missed them, she reckoned, but she knew better.

All right, he was making use of her. But in a way she was making use of him. It was a fair bargain. Now it was time to prepare for the evening in such a way that she would be a credit both to herself and Travis.

I ought to be grateful, she thought. Lee’s turned his back on me-

But the next moment she clasped her hand across her stomach, still slim despite her suspicions.

But things may change, she told herself. I won’t know anything until I’ve told him.

She refused to believe that he could have dumped her completely after what they had shared. There was still hope.

CHAPTER THREE

A QUICK visit to a nearby hairdresser and her dark locks were transformed, becoming curled and lush. The blue satin dress was elegant, closely fitting a slender figure that many women would have envied.

And yet there was something missing. Honesty forced Charlene to admit that. Whatever the magical ‘extra’ was, she knew she didn’t have it. She looked pleasant, but not special.

Nor could she recall ever being really special to anyone in her life. Even her mother.

Her father had been mostly absent, more absorbed by his work than his family. He’d died when she was five, and her mother had remarried a year later. She and Mark, her stepfather, had been reasonably affectionate in an undemonstrative sort of way, but she’d sensed even then that they meant more to each other than she did to either of them. Mark had a son, James, by a previous marriage, who lived with his mother. Mark had been immensely proud of him, often speaking of him in a way that made Charlene feel that she herself didn’t really exist. Even her mother, anxious to please her husband, had sometimes seemed to value James more than her own daughter.

Once she’d overheard them discussing the idea of another baby.

‘It would be nice to have a daughter,’ Mark had remarked.

‘We’ve got Charlene,’ her mother had pointed out.

‘Yes, but-you know what I mean. A real daughter-ours.’

She had crept hastily away and never mentioned what she had heard. The casually unkind words, a real daughter, haunted her ever after.

When she was fifteen they had taken a holiday together. Just the two of them.

‘Can’t I come?’ Charlene had pleaded.

‘Darling, it’s our anniversary,’ her mother had said. ‘Mark and I need to be alone. You can understand that, can’t you?’

Of course she could understand. She’d always understood why she wasn’t a priority.

So they had gone without her, and never returned. Everyone said how lucky it was that she hadn’t been on the plane when it crashed, but haunting her grief was the knowledge that she hadn’t been wanted.

Her mother’s parents had taken her in. They had no other children or grandchildren, and they consoled themselves by lavishing affection on Charlene. In their warmth she blossomed, and much of the pain was eased. She had two people to love, and she knew that they loved her.

But the knowledge of having been second best never quite left her. Her stepbrother was never in touch, which made her sad because it would have been nice to have a big brother.

She’d come to understand that she was moderate in all things: moderate-looking, nothing special; moderately

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