The Forbidden Mistress. Anne Mather
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Mills & Boon is proud to present a fabulous collection of fantastic novels by bestselling, much loved author
ANNE MATHER
Anne has a stellar record of achievement within the publishing industry, having written over one hundred and sixty books, with worldwide sales of more than forty-eight MILLION copies in multiple languages.
This amazing collection of classic stories offers a chance for readers to recapture the pleasure Anne’s powerful, passionate writing has given.
We are sure you will love them all!
I’ve always wanted to write—which is not to say I’ve always wanted to be a professional writer. On the contrary, for years I only wrote for my own pleasure and it wasn’t until my husband suggested sending one of my stories to a publisher that we put several publishers’ names into a hat and pulled one out. The rest, as they say, is history. And now, one hundred and sixty-two books later, I’m literally—excuse the pun—staggered by what’s happened.
I had written all through my infant and junior years and on into my teens, the stories changing from children’s adventures to torrid gypsy passions. My mother used to gather these manuscripts up from time to time, when my bedroom became too untidy, and dispose of them! In those days, I used not to finish any of the stories and Caroline, my first published novel, was the first I’d ever completed. I was newly married then and my daughter was just a baby, and it was quite a job juggling my household chores and scribbling away in exercise books every chance I got. Not very professional, as you can imagine, but that’s the way it was.
These days, I have a bit more time to devote to my work, but that first love of writing has never changed. I can’t imagine not having a current book on the typewriter—yes, it’s my husband who transcribes everything on to the computer. He’s my partner in both life and work and I depend on his good sense more than I care to admit.
We have two grown-up children, a son and a daughter, and two almost grown-up grandchildren, Abi and Ben. My e-mail address is [email protected] and I’d be happy to hear from any of my wonderful readers.
The Forbidden Mistress
Anne Mather
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
O LIVER was standing staring out of the long plate-glass windows of his fourteenth-storey office when the intercom on the desk behind him emitted a low buzz.
Sighing, he turned away from the view of the rain-wet Newcastle streets and strode across the wide expanse of dark blue broadloom to depress the button that connected him with his secretary next door. ‘Yes?’ he said shortly, not welcoming the interruption, and Mrs Clements cleared her throat before replying.
‘It’s your brother, Mr Ferreira,’ she said, momentarily stunning him into silence. ‘I told him you were busy, but he insists that you’ll see him.’ She paused. ‘Will you?’
Oliver was still getting over the fact that his brother had had the nerve to come here when he heard the altercation in the outer office. Thomas Ferreira would resent being subjected to any delay and a moment later Oliver’s door swung wide. A tall broad-shouldered man stood belligerently on the threshold with the diminutive figure of Mrs Clements hovering anxiously behind.
‘What the hell is this?’ he demanded, his fair good-looking features flushed with angry colour. ‘Do I need an appointment to see you these days, Oliver? I know it’s a while since we’ve spoken to one another, but for God’s sake, lighten up, can’t you?’
Oliver released the button of the intercom and straightened away from the broad slab of granite that topped his desk. Ignoring his brother, he looked beyond his stocky frame to the nervous figure of his secretary. ‘It’s all right, Mrs Clements,’ he said reassuringly. ‘I know you did your best not to let him in.’
Mrs Clements clasped her hands together. ‘You won’t forget you’ve agreed to see Mr Adler at four o’clock, will you, Mr Ferreira?’
‘He won’t forget,’ stated Thomas rudely, taking charge of the door. ‘And I don’t intend to keep him long, so don’t look so worried. I’m only his brother, not the tax inspector.’
Mrs Clements ignored that comment and managed to wedge herself between the closing door and its frame. ‘Is there anything I can get you, Mr Ferreira? Some tea or coffee, perhaps?’
‘So long as it’s not a bottle of Scotch,’ Thomas interposed caustically, but Oliver disregarded the younger man and said politely, ‘Some tea, Mrs Clements, if it’s not too much trouble?’
‘Of course it’s not too much trouble.’ Thomas mocked the woman’s reply as he closed the door and rested for a moment against the mahogany panels. ‘Honestly, Oliver, surely you know that woman would walk on hot coals, if you asked her.’ He pulled a wry face. ‘Most women would, for that matter.’
‘But not all,’ observed Oliver, feeling a momentary twinge of bitterness in his gut. Then, his dark eyes narrowing impatiently, ‘What do you want, Tom? As you just heard, I don’t have a lot of time.’
Tom’s response was to leave the door and walk towards his brother’s desk, pulling out one of the upright leather chairs used by visitors and lounging into it. ‘Let’s wait until the tea comes, shall we?’ he suggested tightly. ‘I’d prefer it if old Clements wasn’t a party to what I have to say.’
Oliver suppressed his irritation. ‘Mrs Clements is perfectly trustworthy,’ he said. ‘You don’t have to worry that she’ll gossip about anything she hears.’
‘Even so…’ Tom shrugged, looking about him. ‘I’d forgotten what a view you have from this office,’ he continued obliquely. ‘I bet you missed it, too, when you were holed up at the Abbey.’
Oliver’s nostrils flared and he was tempted to eject his brother from the office forthwith. But to do so would arouse more questions than answers and, until he’d heard whatever Tom had to say, he decided to contain his wrath.
But that didn’t alter the way he felt about seeing him again. It had been almost four years since they’d had a serious conversation and, although he resented his gall in coming here, he couldn’t deny a certain