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Last year Scarlet King was a blushing bride-to-be, but now she's alone and more than anything longs for a baby. This time she's determined to prove she doesn't need a man!
Successful, spine-tinglingly gorgeous John Mitchell has desired Scarlet for years, so seizes the chance to claim her. But his proposal comes with a devilish price: if she wants a baby, they'll do it the old-fashioned way!
John reminds Scarlet of the pleasures she's been missing, but when the affair is over will Scarlet gain her wish but lose her heart?
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After leaving her convent school, Miranda Lee briefly studied the cello before moving to Sydney, where she embraced the emerging world of computers. Her career as a programmer ended after she married, had three daughters and bought a small acreage in a semi-rural community. She yearned to find a creative career from which she could earn money. When her sister suggested writing romances, it seemed like a good idea. She could do it at home, and it might even be fun! She never looked back.Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:
'Don't you think you should start getting dressed?'
Scarlet glanced up from the Sunday paper which she'd been pretending to read for the last hour or so. She hadn't felt like talking, especially since the conversation always came round to the radical choice which Scarlet had made this year. Her mother had initially supported her decision to have a child on her own by artificial insemination, but lately she'd been expressing the opinion that it might not be such a good idea.
Scarlet needed negativity at the moment like a hole in the head!
Okay, so the procedure hadn't worked the first two times. That was not uncommon, she'd been told by the clinic. She just had to keep on trying and sooner or later she would conceive. It wasn't as though there was anything physically wrong with her, except perhaps that she was getting older. Which was why she'd decided to do this in the first place.
'What time is it?' she asked.
'Nearly noon,' her mother replied. 'We really should make an appearance at the Mitchells' no later than quarter-to-one. I know Carolyn's planning on serving lunch around one-thirty.'
Carolyn and Martin Mitchell had been their friends and neighbours for almost thirty years. They had two children: a boy, John, the same age as herself, and a girl, Melissa, who was four years younger. Over the years Scarlet had got to know the family well, though she liked some members more than others. Mr Mitchell had not long retired and today was their fortieth wedding anniversary, a milestone which Scarlet knew would sadly never figure in her own life.
Janet King's heart squeezed tight when she heard her daughter sigh. Poor love. She'd been so disappointed when her period had arrived this week. It was no wonder she didn't feel like going to a party.
'You don't have to go,' she said gently. 'I could make some excuse—say you're not feeling well.'
'No, no, Mum,' Scarlet said quite firmly, and stood up. 'I'm fine to go. Truly. Do me good.' And she hurried to her bedroom, thinking that it would do her good. She could have a few glasses of wine—now that she wasn't expecting. She also wouldn't have to spend the rest of the day defending her decision to have a baby on her own. Because no one—other than her mother—knew about her baby project. Frankly, she was sick and tired of her mum telling her how hard it was, bringing up a child on her own.
Admittedly, Janet King had first-hand knowledge of the subject, Scarlet's father having been killed in a car accident when Scarlet had been only nine. Scarlet knew full well how difficult life had been for her mother at that time, both emotionally and financially. Difficult for herself, as well. She'd adored her father and missed him terribly.
So, yes, she appreciated that raising a child without the support of a partner would be hard at times.
But not as hard as never having a child at all!
Just thinking about such a prospect made Scarlet feel physically ill.
She'd always wanted to be a mother, ever since she'd been a little girl. She'd grown up dreaming of one day falling in love with a wonderful man—someone like her darling dad—getting married and having a family of her own.
Scarlet had honestly believed it was only a matter of time after leaving school before that happened. Her plan had been to marry young so that she could enjoy her children. Never in her wildest dreams had she envisaged reaching the age of thirty-four still single and without her Mr Wonderful anywhere in sight.
But that was how her life had panned out. Sometimes, Scarlet simply couldn't believe it.
Shaking her head, she stripped off her dressing gown then turned her attention to the outfit which she'd already laid out on the bed earlier that morning—a purple woollen tunic dress, black silk polo underneath, black tights and black ankle boots. It didn't take her long to dress—she'd already showered and blow-dried her hair—after which she made her way along to the main bathroom to put her hair up and do her make-up.
Neither job took Scarlet all that long. At thirty-four, she had her grooming routine down pat.
The sight of the finished product in the large vanity mirror brought a puzzled frown to her forehead. Why, she wondered for the umpteenth time, had it come to this?
It wasn't as though she was an ugly girl. She was very attractive with a pretty face: cute nose, full lips, blonde hair and a good figure. Okay, so her breasts were on the smaller side, but she looked great in clothes, being tall and slender. On top of that she had a bright, outgoing personality. People liked her. Men liked her.
Despite that, she'd had a lot of trouble finding herself a steady boyfriend over the years. In hindsight, Scarlet now realised that her choice of career hadn't helped, but that hadn't occurred to her at the time. Not wanting to leave home and the Central Coast, she'd taken a hairdressing apprenticeship in the salon where her mother had worked, a move which had confounded a lot of people. She had, after all, achieved very high marks in her exams and could have pursued some high-flying profession such as communications or law, if she'd wanted to.
But becoming a journalist or a lawyer was not what Scarlet wanted out of life. She had other priorities which didn't include more years of studying and even more years clawing her way up the ladder to what some people thought of as success in life. At the same time, she did want an interesting job which she enjoyed.
Despite her teachers' warnings to the contrary, Scarlet had loved being a hairdresser, had loved the camaraderie with her co-workers and clients. Loved the feel-good feeling which came with completing a colour or a cut not just adequately but brilliantly. She soon gained a great reputation as a stylist and by twenty-five she and her mother had opened their own salon in a small shopping centre not far from Erina Fair. They would have preferred to locate their salon in Erina Fair—the shopping hub of the Central Coast—but the rents there were way too high. Because of their loyal clientele, their business had still been a huge success.
But only on the financial front. Scarlet eventually had begun to see that being a hairdresser with mainly female clients was not conducive to meeting members of the opposite sex. Being an only child with no siblings wasn't an asset, either. Maybe if she'd had an older brother...
Not that she didn't try to meet men in other ways. For years she'd maintained a group of girlfriends from her school days and they went out regularly together to parties, clubs and pubs where, for some perverse reason, she would always be hit upon by the type of good-looking sleazebag who was only interested in one thing—though she didn't work this out till she'd been burned a few times.
One by one, she watched as her girlfriends found nice guys to marry—mostly through their more diverse careers or family connections. Scarlet had been a bridesmaid so many times, she began to dread weddings, not to mention the after-wedding parties where her married 'friends' always tried to hook her up with some guy who was usually drunk and was only there to have sex with at least one of the bridesmaids.
When the last of her unmarried girlfriends had found her future husband on an Internet dating site, Scarlet had tried that method, but it had been an unmitigated disaster. For some reason, she still seemed to attract the wrong type who only wanted the one thing.
Scarlet had never been a girl who liked sex for sex's sake. Not that she hadn't tried it a few times in her younger days; she had. But she had found the experiences so lacking in pleasure that by her twenty-first birthday she vowed to reserve giving her body till she really liked the guy she was with. Unfortunately, she'd really liked some of the good-looking sleazebags who'd successfully picked her up during her twenties. Even then, there'd been no bells and whistles going off for her in bed, leading Scarlet to the conclusion that maybe she needed to be deeply in love to enjoy sex. Either that, or she was seriously undersexed.
By the time she turned thirty, Scarlet had been so desperate to find someone to love—and who would love her in return—that she'd made the mammoth decision to change careers. She went to college at night, gained her real-estate licence then applied for a job at one of the Central Coast's largest and most successful agencies.
It had seemed a good move at the time. Suddenly, she was surrounded by lots of eligible young men who thought she was the best thing since they had built the freeway connecting the central coast to Sydney. She had admirers galore, one of whom stood out from all the rest. Jason was an estate agent at a rival agency and a coastie—like herself. A charming, extremely handsome guy who came from a local family and didn't try to get her into bed on their first date. Hallelujah! When they did finally go to bed, the sex, whilst not quite of the earth-moving variety, had been pleasurable enough for Scarlet to conclude she'd finally fallen in love, feelings which she assumed were mutual when Jason proposed to her on her thirty-second birthday.
Plans for their wedding were well underway when disaster struck.
It had been eighteen months ago, at their street Christmas party. Jason was unable to go with her, saying he had a work-related dinner at the Terrigal hotel which he was obliged to attend. She was showing everyone her engagement ring and having a wonderful time when John Mitchell—the party was at the Mitchells' house that year—took her aside and very quietly told her the most devastating piece of information.
Her first instinct was disbelief and denial. It couldn't possibly be true: her fiance was not gay. He couldn't be!
It was the gentleness in John's vo...
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Book Description Mills & Boon, 2012. Paperback. Condition: New. Rapidly dispatched worldwide from our clean, automated UK warehouse within 1-2 working days. Seller Inventory # mon0000026245