The Father Of Her Child. Emma Darcy
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“Lauren? It’s Michael,” he said with a soft list of anticipation.
Her stomach clenched. The archdeceiver himself! If he thought she was about to rush in and beg for more, he could think again. “Yes?” she queried, her mind suddenly cold and clear.
“I found your note. It was a great night for me, too.”
“I’m glad it was mutual,” she replied silkily, waiting for the perfect line to turn the knife.
He laughed. “Couldn’t be more so. When do you think you’ll finish work tonight?” “Oh, I don’t know. What do you want, Michael?” That was a good question. Let him beg!
“I’ll be with you again as soon as you’re free.”
She deliberately heaved a sigh. “Look, Michael, it was a great night. A really great night. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?” Silence. “Come again?” He sounded puzzled, disbelieving.
Lauren went in for the kill. “Well, the fact of the matter is that I don’t go in for repeat performances. Why spoil a perfect memory?”
EMMA DARCY
nearly became an actress, until her fiancé declared he preferred to attend the theater with her. She became a wife and mother. Later she took up oil painting-unsuccessfully, she remarks. Then she tried architecture, designing the family home in New South Wales, Australia. Next came romance writing- “the hardest and most challenging of all the activities,” she confesses.
The Father Of Her Child
Emma Darcy
For Sue Curran, my editor, in warm appreciation of her sharing and caring
“LAUREN says…”
Michael Timberlane’s jaw clenched. His friend and client, Evan Daniel, continued talking, blithely ignorant of the effect of those two explosively evocative words.Lauren says. Michael didn’t hear anything else. His mind filled with brooding resentment.
He couldn’t count the number of times his ex-wife had thrown those words at him as though Lauren Magee was the font of all knowledge and wisdom on how a marriage should work. Lauren says, Lauren says. a long litany of feminist claptrap that had given Roxanne the encouragement to indulge herself in single-minded selfishness. Any sense of give and take had flown right out the door under Lauren Magee’s influence.
It was a black day when that woman had accepted the position as publicist at the publishing house where Roxanne worked in marketing. Why the Sydney branch of Global Publications had to import a career woman from Melbourne to head its publicity department was beyond Michael’s comprehension, but the word in the industry was that Lauren Magee was a fireball. She obviously didn’t mind whom she scorched, either.
Michael grudgingly conceded he had not been averse to the idea of divorce by the time Roxanne decided it was what she wanted. His ideal of a true partnership within a love relationship had been comprehensively whittled away. Nevertheless, Evan’s inadvertent reminder of the interfering judgments by a woman who didn’t even know him stirred a vengeful wish to turn Lauren Magee and her insidious list of women’s rights upside down and inside out.
Would that he could!
It was undoubtedly a waste of energy even thinking about it. The woman had to be a man hater with a brick-wall temperament, totally closed to logic or reason. She would probably have Evan’s balls for breakfast if he stepped out of line on this promotional tour she had organised for him. A male author who liked an alcoholic lunch would not be her cup of tea at all.
Michael unclenched his jaw, relaxed his facial muscles and dutifully tuned back into Evan’s flow of excitement over his jam-packed schedule of interviews with the media. Global Publications, via Lauren Magee, was certainly doing him proud in their efforts to launch his new historical novel on the Australian reading public. Michael hoped it would sell well, not only for his friend’s sake,