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rest of her party going to think? She shook her head. It didn’t matter what they thought. She was doing what was right for her.
    She glanced at the faces of her friends surreptitiously watching her approach, Jill’s expression wary, Suzanne’s fascinated, Ivan’s speculative. Alida wondered what they read on her face, what they read on Gareth’s. Was it plain to see that they were about to go to bed together? She hoped not.
    There was little justification for that hope. After all, it was the commonly held view that the fashion set had no compunctions or morals about doing such things. By admitting her susceptibility to his attraction, she hadn’t even cleared Gareth’s mind of that opinion.
    Her friends smiled at her as she reached her chair. Alida managed a responding smile. “If you’ll excuse me, Gareth has offered to take me home,” she announced.
    “A fitting end to a brilliant night,” Ivan rolled out, his bright brown eyes twinkling delight.
    “Don’t forget the statuette!” Suzanne cried, reaching out for it to hand it over.
    Jill forestalled her, picking it up and presenting it to Alida with a flourish. “Alida, you have done us all proud,” she said warmly.
    “We did it together,” Alida replied.
    Gareth picked up her handbag and bade her friends good night. They chorused something back. She didn’t really hear. Gareth’s hand was on her arm, drawing her away. Then he was steering her towards the exit from the ballroom.
    This could very well be the most important night of my life, Alida thought, then glanced in wry whimsy at the statuette in her hand. It meant absolutely nothing compared to what Gareth Morgan could mean to her. Once again he had changed everything for her. She desperately hoped it would be for the better this time. Not only for her sake… but also for the son Gareth didn’t know he had.

CHAPTER FOUR
    The taxi pulled away from the hotel. It was at least a twenty-minute trip to Claremont, where Alida lived. She was grateful for that fact. It gave her time to examine what she was doing. It also gave her time to change her mind if she wanted to.
    Then Gareth reached across and took her hand in his, strong fingers curling around hers, stroking them as though savouring the soft texture of her skin. Holding hands seemed oddly juvenile, yet there was nothing juvenile about what Gareth’s touch did to her. He might have been clutching her heart, making it pump faster, spreading an aching need through her entire body.
    She glanced at him and found him studying her, as though absorbing every detail. He gave her a half-smile that held appreciation. It was perfectly plain he was not harbouring doubts about what he wanted or his course of action.
    “What are you doing in Perth, Gareth?” she asked.
    He shrugged. “I have some business to transact.” He hesitated, frowned, then reluctantly added, “I wanted to spend some time with my daughter, as well.”
    “I didn’t know that.” The words spilled out.
    He looked at her oddly.
    “That you had a daughter,” Alida explained, hoping that she didn’t look and sound as stricken as she felt. The idea of Gareth having a child—children?— from his marriage had never crossed her mind. None had been in evidence when she had been at Riordan River. But then his wife had not been there, either.
    He winced at her surprise. “I did have some normal years of marriage, Alida.”
    A painful flush washed up her neck and burned into her cheeks. “Yes, of course,” she mumbled and snapped her head away, looking blindly out the side window. How would he feel about having another child, one who had not been born to his beloved wife? How would his daughter feel about a half-brother born from adultery?
    “Do you have any other children?” she asked, trying to keep all emotion out of her voice.
    “No.”
    “How old is she?”
    He expelled a breath as though impatient with this line of conversation. “Stacey is thirteen. She started at