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      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

      CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

      CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

      EPILOGUE

      CHAPTER ONE

      TINA glanced up at the towering office block, then down at the pram, and the baby lying within.

      ‘Here we are, darling!’ she announced to the pretty pink-clad infant. ‘Your daddy’s workplace. Unfortunately, your daddy’ll be in a meeting all afternoon, according to his secretary. Didn’t have time for any appointments. Which is just too bad, isn’t it? Because he’s going to see us today whether he likes it or not!’

      Arching a well-plucked eyebrow, she angled the pram determinedly towards the revolving glass doors, hoping for more success than her encounter with the train doors earlier on. Manoeuvring a pram, Tina had found, was as hazardous as one of those wayward shopping trolleys, the kind whose wheels had a mind of their own. Still, she’d only been doing it for a week, so she supposed there were excuses for her ineptitude.

      It was a struggle, but she finally emerged unscathed into the cavernous semicircular foyer with its acre or two of black granite flooring. Tina negotiated this pram-friendly surface with thankful ease, bypassing the busy reception desk and skirting several large lumps of marble masquerading as art, finally halting beneath the huge directory which hung on the wall beside the bank of lifts.

      Hunter & Associates, she swiftly noted, occupied floors nineteen and twenty. Tina also noted Hunter & Associates carried no description of what services or utilities the company provided, other than to say ‘Management’ was on the twentieth floor.

      This might have been a modest oversight, but Tina rather imagined it reflected its owner’s character. Dominic Hunter arrogantly assumed everyone knew his company was one of Sydney’s most successful stockbroking and investment firms.

      He had also arrogantly assumed his affair with his secretary last year would never rise up to bite him on his arrogant backside.

      But he was wrong!

      Sarah might have been a softie. And a push-over where men were concerned. But Tina was not!

      Sarah’s daughter deserved the very best. And Tina aimed to make sure she got it. She would give Dominic Hunter a second chance to be a proper father to his beautiful little daughter. If he didn’t come to the party willingly, then he would be made to pay. And pay handsomely. In this day of DNA testing, simply denying fatherhood was a thing of the past.

      ‘Just let him try it, darling,’ she informed the baby girl as she wheeled the pram into the lift. ‘If he does, we’re going to have his guts for garters!’

      CHAPTER TWO

      DOMINIC raised his eyes to the ceiling as he hung up the phone.

      ‘Women!’ he muttered frustratedly, before standing up to gather his papers together for that afternoon’s meeting, almost knocking over a cold, half-drunk cup of coffee in the process. Only a desperate lunge and grab prevented coffee spilling all over his desk.

      He righted the mug and plonked it well to one side, his sigh carrying total exasperation. He was having a really bad day.

      His colleagues might have thought it was the present economic crisis which was causing his tetchy mood. But that wasn’t the case. Dominic thrived on the challenges the financial arena kept throwing at him, finding great excitement and personal satisfaction in making money, both for himself and all his clients. He’d been called a stockmarket junkie more than once, and had to admit it was true.

      No, Dominic could always cope with business problems. It was the opposite sex which was irritating the death out of him.

      Frankly, he just didn’t understand the species, especially their obsession with marriage and babies. Couldn’t they see that, in this present day and age, the world would actually be better off with less of both? There certainly wouldn’t be as many divorces, or so many unhappy neglected children!

      But, no! Such common sense views never seemed to cut the mustard with women. They went on wanting marriage and babies as though they were the panacea for all the world’s ills, instead of adding to them.

      The same thing applied to romantic love. Crazy, really. When had this unfortunate state ever brought women—or men for that matter—any happiness?

      Dominic had grown up in a household where that kind of love had caused nothing but emotional torment and misery.

      He wanted none of it. Love or marriage or babies—a fact reinforced in his early twenties when a girlfriend had tried to trap him into marriage with a false pregnancy.

      The thought of imminent fatherhood and marriage had horrified him. Perhaps his panic had had something to do with own father being a lousy parent—as well as a faithless husband—producing a subconscious fear he might turn out to be just as big a jerk in that department. He’d already looked like the man.

      Whatever, Dominic’s relief at discovering the pregnancy had been a lie had been very telling. It had also been his first intimate experience at just how far a female would go in pursuit of that old romantic fantasy called ‘love and marriage’.

      After that sobering experience, Dominic always took care of protection personally when having sex. He was never swayed by any female’s assertion that she was on the pill, or that it was a ‘safe’ time of the month. He also always made his position quite clear to every woman he became involved with. Marriage was not on his agenda, no matter what!

      His mother found his views on the subject totally unfathomable. With typical female logic, she simply dismissed them as a temporary aberration.

      ‘You’ll change your mind one day,’ she would say every now and then. ‘When you fall in love…’

      Now that was another romantic illusion his mother