ersonality. He was a hard man to oppose; a powerful man, used to winning his own way; a man whose fifty-eight years of age sat ea

r him. Vivienne could see his drawing power, even feel it somet

red the undaunted challenge in her wide steady eyes, the disciplined sweep of her hairstyle, the striking purity of

it wanted to... or needed to. His child ... as the others weren't and never would be, although he didn't doubt he

use of what she thought he had done. Too late to correct that impression now. Ther

such a bad thing. Life often tricked you ... when you got the things you thought you wa

d set himself to enjoy this

that passes,' he said with sincere a

her,' Vivienne

of affection from him would only be suffered with contempt. He admired her independence but so

' car-keys. "A

o thrust them back at him but knowing there was a better

o knew he could buy anything he fancied. "It's a

the money to needy causes. Her mind instantly flitted to the women's shelter where she was called all too frequently to

ly your business,' Sir Gabriel said without the slightest

.. just standard barter in th

m him. Only a man who had no love in him could have turned his back on his own child for twelve years, as he had done. She wondered why he had b

expect some profit or other. But he would never win he

him precisely what she thought. "I wish you

vienne. If you did...' His mouth took on an

er. "Nothing?" she tossed back at him as they began to walk towards the lifts.

Always have. But the passion for it ..." he paused, then softly, almost

been sending the roses and those cards all this time? But why? What possible motive could he have? Loving ... he hadn't mentioned that! Was love what he wanted from her? Twenty-three roses ... twenty-thre

the driver's side. Vivienne slid in behind the wheel, her heart palpitating so fast that she had difficulty breathing. She tried to calm dow

r handbag and wrenched it open. Her hands fumbled with the Ventolin that she always carried with her. It was humiliating to have to spray it into her mou

then sighed. 'I guess I started that.

nied, hating the returning rush of bloo

,' he reminded her drily.'The medical reports while you were at s

to give in to him. 'It's probably the smell of the new upholstery

lush lambs-wool seat-covers which effectively smothered any 'new' smell. B

said, throwing her a look of concern that was surp

arply. Where had his concern been

t,' he murmure

had sent the roses and cards,why had he started them on her nineteenth birthday? It didn't make sense. What could he have intended by them? Was it