Emma Darcy: His Most Exquisite Conquest

Lucy was nervous. Excited, too. Much more excited than she usually was about having a first date with a new man, which was probably what was making her so nervous.

Plus the fact that Michael Finn was a high-flyer and she had never connected with anyone from his level of society. She was definitely out of his league in any social sense, and more than likely he only wanted a sexual fling with her—which she might as well accept right now and not get herself in a twist about it.

Regardless of his intentions she wanted to be with him, wanted to experience him, so no way was she going to back off at this point. Besides, a Cinderella could win a prince. Miracles could happen. Failing that, if the worst came to the worst she could write off her time with him as a case of real lust being satisfied—because while she had certainly fancied other guys in the past it had not been like this, not nearly as strongly as this. Michael Finn had her in an absolute tizzy of lust.

Australia’s most eligible billionaires!

THE INCORRIGIBLE PLAYBOY

January 2013

Everyone has heard about Harry Finn’sreputation: he’s utterly ruthless in the pursuit of beautiful women, and his devilishly charming smile is virtually irresistible! What he wants, he gets—and top of his list is secretary Elizabeth Flippence…

HIS MOST EXQUISITE CONQUEST

July 2013

Notorious for being merciless in the boardroom, tycoon Michael Finnis all work and no play.

Distractions aren’t on his agenda— especially in the too-tempting shape of bubbly, beautiful Lucy Flippence…

Initially a French/English teacher, EMMA DARCYchanged careers to computer programming before the happy demands of marriage and motherhood. Very much a people person, and always interested in relationships, she finds the world of romance fiction a thrilling one, and the challenge of creating her own cast of characters very addictive.

Recent titles by the same author:

THE INCORRIGIBLE PLAYBOY

(The Legendary Finn Brothers)

AN OFFER SHE CAN’T REFUSE

THE COSTARELLA CONTRACT

HIDDEN MISTRESS, PUBLIC WIFE

Did you know these are also available as eBooks?Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

www.millsandboon.co.uk

A DEARLY BELOVED daughter buried in the wrong plot.

A man digging up a grave.

A dog running amok in the memorial garden, knocking off angels’ heads.

What a Monday morning, Lucy Flippence thought as she drove to Greenlands Cemetery, having been given the job of dealing with these situations. Just when some slack time would have been very handy, too, it being her sister’s birthday. It would be really nice to take Ellie out to lunch, especially since Lucy was dying to see her in the wildly colourful new clothes with the new hairdo.

It would be like a complete makeover and highly due, given it was Ellie’s thirtieth birthday. For the past two years her sister had been drowning in blacks and greys and taupes, and so caught up in being Michael Finn’s personal assistant, she didn’t have any other life—not one man sparking her interest.

Right now Lucy had quite a fresh understanding of this disinterest in men. The nasty incident in the Irish pub at Port Douglas had spoiled her weekend away with friends. The guy had started out a promising prince and turned into a horrid frog. It seemed to her they all did, sooner or later. At twenty-eight she had yet to meet one whose shining armour remained shiny, regardless of circumstances.

Even so, she wasn’t about to give up on men. She enjoyed the exciting high of a new attraction, loved the sense of being loved, if only for a little while. It was worth the hurt of being disillusioned. As long as she lived, she was going to be out there, experiencing everything that looked and felt good. It was what her mother had told her to do—her mother who’d married her horrible frog father because she was pregnant with Ellie.

‘Don’t ever make that mistake, Lucy. Be careful.’

She was.

Always careful.

Especially since she didn’t want to have children, didn’t want to pass on her dyslexia, blighting another life with it. Putting a child through what she’d been through at school was not an act of love, and the problems didn’t stop there, either. The incurable disability blocked a heap of avenues that normal people simply took in their stride.

The thought of an innocent baby being born with a wrongly wired brain like hers triggered a strongly negative recoil inside Lucy. She would not risk that happening. Which meant, of course, she would probably never marry—no real point to it if having a family was out of the question.

There was, however, always the hope of meeting a prince who didn’t care about having children, or perhaps one who had a genetic fault of his own and would be happy to simply settle with having each other to love. She hadn’t ruled out these possibilities. They bolstered her resolve to keep moving on, making the most of her journey through life.

The cemetery on the outskirts of Cairns came into view. It was aptly named Greenlands—everything being so very green as it usually was up here in far north tropical Queensland, especially after the big wet and before the oppressive heat of summer. August was always a pleasant month and Lucy was glad she wasn’t stuck in the office, closed off from the lovely sunshine.

As she drove the van into the parking lot, she spotted a man wielding a shovel beside one of the graves. He looked elderly and Lucy instantly decided he wouldn’t be dangerous to approach, not that she was frightened of doing so anyway. Her appearance invariably disarmed people.

She loved putting herself together in a fun outfit. The Sunday Markets at Port Douglas were always great for crafty stuff. The wooden bead necklaces and bangles she’d bought yesterday, along with the tan leather belt, and sandals that strapped in criss-crosses up her lower legs, looked fabulous with the white broderie anglaise miniskirt and peasant blouse she was wearing today. Her long blond hair was piled up on top of her head to show off the cute dangly wooden earrings, as well. She didn’t look like officialdom and that was half the battle in getting people to confide in her.

The elderly man caught sight of her walking towards him, and stopped digging, leaning on the long handle of his shovel as he watched her approach, looking her up and down as most men did, regardless of age. She could now see two large plastic bags of potting soil lying on the ground beside him, and behind them was the top of a rose bush.

‘Well, you’re a pretty sight for sore eyes, girlie,’ he greeted her, his mouth slowly curving into a wistful little smile. ‘Visiting a loved one?’

‘Yes, I always visit my mother when I come out here,’ Lucy said with her own wistful smile. The man’s face was so lined and dotted with age spots she guessed he was about eighty, but his body had a spry wiriness that undoubtedly came from keeping himself active.

‘Your mother, eh? Must have died young,’ he remarked.

Lucy nodded. ‘She was only thirty-eight.’ Ten years older than Lucy was now—a fact that lay constantly in the back of her mind, urging her to pack as much into her life as she could.