Forgotten Lover

Carole Mortimer is one of Mills & Boon’s best loved Modern Romance authors. With nearly 200 books published and a career spanning 35 years, Mills & Boon are thrilled to present her complete works available to download for the very first time! Rediscover old favourites – and find new ones! – in this fabulous collection…Remembering his touch…Suffering from amnesia is hard enough, but when Velvet learns that she may have been unfaithful to her beloved husband, it’s almost too much to handle. Sexy Jerard Daniels may claim to have known her intimately, but her mind is a blank…Velvet’s memory loss was triggered by her husband’s death on the day their son was born. Now she remembers nothing. Could Jerard be lying? It seems unlikely, if Velvet felt as passionately about Jerard then as she does now…

Forgotten Lover Carole Mortimer

CHAPTER ONE

VELVET posed in front of the camera once again, her smile forced now as the sun continued to beat down on her, her make-up feeling as if it were streaking down her face. They had attracted quite a crowd of people as Paul set up his photographic equipment on the Fort Lauderdale beach, the holiday town twenty miles from Miami. Thank God they hadn’t decided to film in Miami itself; the one day they had spent there the beach had been absolutely crowded.

As it was they had attracted quite a few people, most of them male, all watching with interest as she and Carly posed in the numerous beach outfits. The shorts were very brief, some of the sun-tops even briefer, and this was obviously appreciated by their onlookers.

But despite the briefness of their clothing it was still terribly hot, the temperature in the nineties, and only being used to the coolness of English weather this heat had come as something of a shock to Velvet. All she longed to do right now was strip off, don one of the numerous bikinis she had brought with her, and run across the golden-white sand and into the deep blue sea, its coolness refreshing and invigorating.

Fort Lauderdale certainly lived up to its reputation. The people were very friendly, the beaches unbelievable, even down to the palm trees that grew tall and straight even in the strong sea-breeze. The sand was fine and smooth down to the sea edge, the water still and calm, the waves lapping gently against the shoreline. Tall hotels, and one and two-storey motels edged the beach across the shore road, their walls freshly painted in gay attractive colours. It was in one of these hotels that the three of them were staying, with a breathtaking view of the ocean from their rooms, both in the blazing sunlight hours and the bright moonlight.

But today was their first day of actually working, the previous day having been taken up in recovering from the nine-hour flight. Never having worked in such a climate before, Velvet hadn’t been prepared for the overwhelming heat and humidity that seemed to hit her like a blanket as soon as she had stepped out of their air-conditioned hotel this morning. Her brief clothing had instantly seemed too heavy, her make-up feeling caked on to her face, and all her energy seemed to be stripped from her. And that was before she had even begun working!

The last hour had seemed like a lifetime, each change of clothes taking longer than the last, and her movements were now slow and sluggish.

She threw off the straw hat. ‘No more, Paul,’ she complained. ‘I can’t do any more today.’ The blue sea behind her beckoned temptingly, increasingly so as each minute passed.

His camera lowered, his features boyishly youthful despite his thirty-two years, Paul was very slightly built, his blond hair over-long, his features striking rather than handsome. Because he spent so much time with women his manner was sometimes effeminate, often leading to snide remarks from people who envied him his skill with a camera, but Velvet knew that these remarks were unfounded. He and Carly, the other model on this assignment, had been living together for the past year.

‘Just another couple of shots,’ he encouraged. ‘Then we can all stop for the day. Okay?’

‘Okay,’ she sighed her agreement, and donned the hat again, sure that by now she must look a mess and not the beautiful model she was supposed to be.

Carly looked up hopefully from her sitting position on the sand. ‘Does that mean I can go and get changed?’

Paul ignored her, all his concentration on his camera and subject. He didn’t even see the models who stood before him as women, they were merely objects that he wanted to show to advantage with his skill as a photographer. Velvet loved to be photographed by him, knew he would bring out the best in her. If he hadn’t been the photographer on this assignment she doubted she would even have accepted it, hating having to leave Tony with her brother and his wife.

Not that Tony minded, he loved staying with his Uncle Simon and Aunty Janice. But Velvet herself felt guilty about leaving him, and would have brought him with her if it hadn’t been such a long flight. As a working widow she took Tony with her as much as possible, possibly a little too possessive of him. But he was all she had left of her husband Anthony, her dearly loved Anthony who had died shortly after their marriage.

But Tony was all she could ever wish for in her child, full of energy, so much so that he tired her out just looking at him. He was a beautiful child, almost eighteen months of pure devilment, his huge innocent brown eyes totally deceptive, as were his cherubic features and baby blond curls. Oh, how she missed him already!

‘There, finished,’ Paul lowered his camera. ‘You can go and get changed too.’

She wiped her damp face. ‘I think I’ll go back to the hotel and put on one of my own bikinis before I go in for a swim.’

She looked down at the minute brown bikini she wore. ‘Will we need this tomorrow?’

‘Then I’ll wear it back to the hotel.’ She pulled on a wrap, glad to be hidden at last from curious eyes. She was tall, with the slender figure of a model, her features classically beautiful, her brown eyes almond-shaped, slightly tilted at the corners to hint at the Oriental. And then there was her hair, her beautiful, red-gold hair, the colour of which could never be matched by anything out of a bottle. Her features and colouring were instantly riveting, making her one of the top models in England, although she doubted she had the ambition to actually reach the top. As long as she had enough money to support herself and Tony in comfort then she was happy.

Dear Tony! If she went back to the hotel now she might just be in time to call Simon and talk to Tony before Janice bathed him and put him to bed. Just to hear his childish lisping of the word ‘Mum’ would be enough to make her day.

‘Hey, sleepyhead,’ Paul interrupted her thoughts. ‘I was talking to you!’

‘I’m sorry,’ Velvet blinked, her lashes dark and silky. ‘What did you say?’

‘Wear this!’ Velvet scorned. ‘You must be joking! It would probably fall apart in the water.’

Carly bounced out of the back of the trailer they were using to change in, dressed in her own tight-fitting denims and a tee-shirt. ‘Ready?’ she smiled up at her boy-friend, her dark attractive features beautiful even without make-up.

‘To take me to Ocean World. And don’t say you forgot,’ she added as he began to shake his head. ‘You promised, Paul,’ she pouted petulantly.

‘Oh, don’t be such an old grouch, Paul,’ Velvet cut in. ‘Take Carly to Ocean World.’

‘And what do I do if our client asks to see the initial photographs this evening?’

‘He’s invited us to dinner,’ Carly dismissed. ‘He’ll hardly expect to see the work already completed.’

‘I’d forgotten all about dinner this evening,’ Velvet frowned. ‘Isn’t it a little unusual to be invited out by the owner of a firm as big as Style Clothes?’

Paul shrugged. ‘It happens. Besides, we’re staying at his hotel. He lives in the penthouse apartment.’

‘He flew in yesterday evening,’ Paul explained. ‘I spoke to him last night while the two of you slept.’

Carly wrinkled her nose at him. ‘We don’t all have your stamina for work. Besides, Velvet and I need our beauty sleep.’

Velvet laughed at Carly’s fury. ‘I think you walked into that one,’ she teased the other girl.

‘Maybe,’ she admitted grudgingly. ‘But just for that,’ she put her arm through the crook of Paul’s, ‘you can definitely take me to Ocean World.’

‘I do,’ Carly said firmly. ‘And if you aren’t careful I’ll push you in with the sharks!’

Velvet knew that this veiled argument hid a very real affection, Carly and Paul were very much in love with each other.

She shook her head. ‘I’m going back to the hotel to make a telephone call and then I’m going swimming.’

‘Don’t be late for dinner,’ he warned. ‘Seven-thirty for eight in the penthouse suite.’

She grinned at Paul’s determination to impress their employer. ‘I’ll wear the sexiest dress I can find.’

‘Not that one,’ he said hastily, obviously recalling the daring of the black gown she had in mind. ‘I don’t want him to take you to bed, just to realise how beautiful the models are I’ve brought with me.’

‘I’ll remember,’ and she laughingly took her leave of them. If she didn’t soon make that telephone call it would be too late.

Her casual attire was perfectly acceptable in the hotel reception, some of the other people walking about in even less than she was, their nakedness barely covered by swimming attire. Although a model, and reasonably sure of herself, she would have felt too embarrassed to walk in wearing just the bikini she had modelled earlier; it was two strips of material that only just contained her modesty. The matching wrap at least reached down to her thighs, although the material was diaphanous.

But she didn’t give the impression of being in the least selfconscious as she strolled across the reception area to the lift, a tall beautiful girl with strawberry-blonde hair and flashing dark eyes.

She frowned, turning to face the owner of that deep, attractive voice, a voice as English as her own. A tall man, well over six feet, was making his way towards her, a ruggedly handsome man with dark almost black hair, distinguished wings of grey at his temples, his eyes deeply blue, surrounded by thick black lashes, his nose long and straight, a dark shadow above his top lip over the firmness of his jaw, a shadow that meant he probably had to shave twice a day. Above that strong jawline his top lip jutted out determinedly, the lower lip fuller, hinting at a deep sensuality. He had wide powerful shoulders, tapering to a narrow waist and lean hips, and he was probably the most handsome man Velvet had ever seen. The white trousers fitted to his muscular thighs, the dark blue shirt was partly unbuttoned down his chest, his skin was deeply tanned, as if he lived a lot of his life out in the sun.

Yes, he was very handsome, excitingly so, being in his late thirties or early forties, she would say, having an assurance and confidence about him that pointed to him being unnerved by little. He was also acting as if he knew her, and much as she would like it to be true, she knew she had never seen him in her life before. He just wasn’t the sort of man you forgot once you had met him.

‘Velvet!’ He grasped both her hands in his, searching her face with those deep blue eyes as if he intended memorising every feature. ‘My God,’ he choked, very pale beneath his tan, a haggard look to his face. ‘It really is you!’ His hands tightened on hers.

She gave a polite meaningless smile, trying to extricate her hands without causing a scene. Men had tried to pick her up in this way in the past, but never anyone like this man. ‘It really is me,’ she agreed lightly. ‘Now would you mind …?’ she looked pointedly at their joined hands.

‘God, Velvet,’ he groaned, making no effort to release her, ‘you don’t know what it does to me to see you here!’

She was beginning to, his hold on her hands was painful now. ‘Could you please let me go?’ she winced.

She was becoming angry now, aware that they were attracting more than their fair share of attention. ‘I think we’ve established that that is my name,’ she said in her coldest voice, realising this man was going to be a difficult one to shake off.

‘It happened, of course, men claiming they knew her. In her profession it was bound to; men saw her photograph in a magazine and thought it entitled them to claim an acquaintance with her.

Not that this man didn’t look as if he would be interesting to know, he did. But she was here to work, and the sooner the work was finished the sooner she would be able to get back to Tony. Tony! Goodness, if she didn’t soon make that call Simon and Janice would have gone to bed too!

‘It’s been pleasant meeting you, Mr—er—— But I have to go now,’ she finally managed to release her hand. ‘If you’ll excuse me …’ and she turned to leave, already dismissing him from her mind.

A strong hand came out to stop her, blue eyes narrowing as the man moved to stand in front of her. ‘Velvet, I know things ended abruptly between us, but I thought you understood——’

‘Just Jerard,’ he snapped. ‘Don’t play games, Velvet, not now, and not with me.’

She pulled out of his grasp, knowing there would be bruises on her wrist tomorrow. Paul would love that! ‘I don’t play games, Mr—Jerard,’ she snapped. ‘And I don’t particularly like the people who do.’

‘Then I wish you wouldn’t now,’ she rubbed her tender skin. ‘I’m in a hurry, and I really don’t have the time to talk to you right now.’

‘Because I don’t!’ she cried her exasperation. ‘And if this is a pick-up it really isn’t a very original one,’ she dismissed scathingly.

‘Pick-up!’ he exploded, his eyes blazing, a pulse beating irratically at his jaw. ‘Don’t do this to me, Velvet. I may deserve it, but don’t do it.’ His expression was haunted.

‘There is no you and me. Now if we’re supposed to have met in the past, then I’m sorry, but I don’t remember the meeting.’

‘You do remember,’ he snarled, very tense. ‘You’re just trying to punish me.’

She bit her lip at the savagery of his expression. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. But you and I have never met before. Now I really do have to go.’ She brushed past him, and this time he made no effort to stop her.

She was shaking as she stepped into the lift, turning to press the button for her floor, seeing the man called Jerard still standing where she had left him, looking as if she had struck him a physical blow.

What had seemed to be a conventional pick-up, a ‘haven’t we met before’ approach, had turned out to be something else entirely. The man had to be insane, or else genuinely suffering from mistaken identity. And yet he hadn’t seemed mistaken, he had even called her by her name. But she didn’t know him, would never forget such an intense personality. Unless …? No, no, it wasn’t possible she had ever met him before.

She put the call through to Simon once she reached her room, just managing to talk to Tony before Janice put him to bed. His lisped question of when she was coming home brought a lump to her throat, and she quickly reassured him that it would be soon. She had only left him twice before, and each time it had only been for two days. Talking to her son like this, made conscious of the miles separating them, made her wish that she had never come to Fort Lauderdale.

‘How are you, love?’ her brother asked once Tony had gone off quite happily with his aunt.

‘Quite,’ he agreed dryly. ‘The only thing was he tried to eat it at the same time as the cat did. You can imagine what happened!’

‘I’m trying not to.’ Simon and Janice had a huge grey tabby, a placid creature, until it came to her food, that she would defend with her life. ‘What happened?’

‘Tiger turned round and swiped him one. That’s when Tony grabbed her tail and wouldn’t let go.’

Velvet was laughing so much she had tears streaming down her face—or could they be due to the fact that she was missing her son so much? ‘Who won in the end?’

‘I think they called it a draw. Tony had a scratched hand, and Tiger slunk off into a corner to wash her tail. They’re friends again now, though, they’ve been playing together for the last hour. Now, how’s the work going?’

‘Quite well. But it’s so hot. You know me, I can’t stand the heat. Also—No,’ Velvet bit her lip, reluctant to tell her brother about the strange man she had just met. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she dismissed.

‘What is it, Velvet?’ he asked sharply, always having been the one she ran to with her problems.

‘No, it wasn’t like that, Simon. He—he was so strange.’ She went on to describe her meeting with the man called Jerard.

‘I didn’t mean that sort of disturbed,’ she told him crossly, in a way glad that he hadn’t taken the incident seriously; it made her feel she didn’t have to either.

‘I don’t see why not—it’s some time since Anthony died. You’re too young and beautiful to be alone for ever,’ he said gently. ‘Besides, Tony needs a father.’

‘Simon!’ she spluttered her indignation. ‘This man definitely wasn’t father material, not at all,’ she added with certainty. ‘And even if he were I’m not interested. He was weird,’ she shivered, the memory of his fierce blue eyes burning into hers still very much with her.

‘Then you make sure you stay away from him,’ her brother warned. ‘I’d better let you go now, this call must be costing a fortune.’

She felt quite dejected once she had rung off, feeling a need to get out of her room and be among people. But she didn’t feel like walking back over to the beach, opting to use the hotel pool instead. She just hoped she wouldn’t run into that hateful man again!

It seemed her luck was in; there was no sign of the man, and the pool was mainly deserted in favour of the beach. The pool was gloriously cool, and she swam for half an hour or more before getting out to lie on one of the loungers scattered about its edge.

Her eyes flickered open to meet warm blue ones; a tall blond American was standing beside her, his tan a golden bronze. But Velvet didn’t welcome a pick-up twice in one day. ‘Thank you,’ she said uninterestedly, closing her eyes again.

Another persistent one! She opened her eyes to find he had sat down on the lounger next to hers. Velvet sat up, the anger in her clear brown eyes shielded by the huge round sun-glasses she wore. ‘How did you know that?’ she wanted to know.

‘I’m the assistant manager here,’ he grinned at her, very handsome in a golden sort of way, rather like one of the Greek gods the romantics were always talking about.

Her mouth twitched into an unwilling smile, finally smiling openly. ‘That’s cheating!’

‘Chatting up girls?’ she teased, knowing this man was someone she could handle.

‘I’m flattered!’ she laughed at his directness. She liked his candidness, although he was nowhere near as excitingly attractive as the man called Jerard.

Just to think of the other man gave her a shiver down her spine—and it wasn’t one of fear. That surprised her, she hadn’t thought herself that attracted to him. He was the first man she had found remotely interesting since Anthony had died, and she felt a certain amount of resentment towards him for kindling that interest.

‘I hope that scowl isn’t for me,’ the man at her side interrupted her disturbing thoughts.

‘I—No,’ she gave him a dazzling smile. ‘I was thinking of something else.’

‘Oh, I know that,’ he grinned. ‘I always know the names of the beautiful women staying at the hotel.’

Greg shook his head. ‘Pretty, not beautiful. There’s a difference. You’re beautiful.’

‘I——’ She gave a brief glance at her wrist-watch. It was already five-thirty, time she went back to her room to prepare for the evening ahead. ‘No, thanks. I have to go now.’

He watched as she stood up and pulled on her wrap. ‘Was it something I said?’ He looked crestfallen.

‘No,’ Velvet laughed at his woebegone expression. ‘I just have an appointment this evening, and I think I should go and get ready.’

‘Just my luck,’ Greg grimaced. ‘It’s my evening off,’ he explained. ‘And I’d been hoping you might join me for dinner.’

He burst out laughing, and stood up too. ‘You’re a little unusual, aren’t you?’ He fell into step beside her as they entered the hotel.

‘Ancient!’ She laughed, the laugh dying in her throat as she became aware of piercing blue eyes watching her.

The man called Jerard was walking in the direction of the lift, his fierce gaze fixed savagely on her as she talked to Greg. And he looked furious, so much so that Velvet stayed talking to Greg while the other man got into the lift. She daren’t get in there with him, there was no telling what he would do if she did.

It took ages for the lift to come back down again, but luckily it was now empty. She hoped that man’s room wouldn’t be anywhere near hers.

She hadn’t really brought many evening dresses with her, not realising she would be dining with their important client. She wouldn’t wear anything too daring, at his age she might give him a heart attack. Charles Daniels must be at least seventy by now. No wonder Paul had warned against the black gown—it really was too seductively daring.

The brown one was ideal, attractive without being too revealing. Her hair was newly washed and gleaming, her make-up light and unobtrusive. She looked beautiful enough to make an impression but not to raise the poor man’s blood pressure.

He was looking very distinguished himself in a black evening suit and white shirt, Carly as beautiful as usual in a clinging black gown.

‘How was Ocean World?’ Velvet asked them in the lift on the way up to the penthouse suite.

‘It was—it was good, very good,’ he admitted grudgingly. ‘Okay, okay,’ he sighed at Carly’s triumphant look, ‘so I enjoyed myself.’

‘You’ll have to go. Velvet,’ the other girl said enthusiastically. ‘If Grouchy here liked it then you know it was good.’

Velvet nodded. ‘I’ll see if I can get there some time tomorrow. I wanted to call my brother this afternoon.’

‘Wrecking the place, as usual,’ she laughed, looking around her appreciatively. ‘This is something, hmm?’

Paul nodded, their surroundings luxurious in the extreme. ‘Wait until you meet our host, he’s more than just something.’

Velvet laughed. ‘Seventy-year-old men don’t really appeal to me.’ Paul frowned. ‘Seventy-year-old——? He isn’t seventy, Velvet.’

‘Yes, Velvet,’ a man appeared from a room to the left of them, a man with startlingly familiar fierce blue eyes. ‘I took over from my father,’ he confirmed his identity as Charles Daniels’ son.

She went pale. This man was the man who had stopped her in reception earlier, the man who claimed to know her—he was Jerard Daniels! Paul was right, he was more than just something, he was overpowering in the white dinner jacket and black trousers, every inch the powerful businessman he undoubtedly was.

He came forward to take her hand, the intensity of his gaze not allowing for the other couple in the room. ‘We meet again, Velvet,’ he said huskily.

She was mesmerised, held immobile by the intimacy of his expression. ‘I—Yes,’ she confirmed stupidly.

‘A couple of years ago,’ Jerard Daniels answered for her. ‘Although Velvet chooses not to remember that,’ he added harshly.

‘I don’t choose to, Mr Daniels,’ she snapped. ‘It happens to be the truth.’

She blushed at the familiarity in his eyes, her smile strained. ‘I’m sorry,’ she shook her head, ‘but I really have no recollection …’

‘Never mind,’ he put her hand in the crook of his arm, smiling at the other couple. ‘Shall we go through and have a drink before dinner?’

For the next fifteen minutes he was everything the polite host should be, although he didn’t let Velvet leave his side, his hand snaking out to grasp her wrist if she should attempt to do so.

He frightened her. There was about him an air of suppressed violence, a dangerous quality to him that disturbed her.

‘Have you lived in Florida long, Mr Daniels?’ Carly asked him as they ate their dinner, Velvet placed opposite him at the long table.

‘Jerard,’ he put in smoothly. ‘And I don’t live here, Carly. I’m only here at all because Velvet is.’

Colour blazed in Velvet’s cheeks at the puzzled glances Paul and Carly kept shooting her. This man was embarrassing her, was giving her friends the impression that they had a relationship. ‘Is your wife with you, Mr Daniels?’ she asked waspishly.

His expression darkened, his gaze rapier-sharp as he looked at her. ‘My wife is dead, Velvet,’ he rasped.

‘She isn’t,’ he said abruptly. ‘To die from heart disease isn’t very pleasant.’

She blinked at him, bewildered by his knowledge of her when she knew absolutely nothing about him. ‘He died in a flying accident,’ she supplied.

‘I know that too—you were a passenger. You were carrying his child at the time.’

In that moment Jerard Daniels looked satanic, as if he would like to hit out and hurt someone. He seemed to control this urge with effort. ‘You have a son,’ he said in a curious flat voice.

‘I—yes. You see, Anthony never saw him. He was born on the day Anthony died.’ She didn’t know why she was explaining herself to this man, her life with Anthony had nothing whatsoever to do with him.

‘You do?’ she asked interestedly, her assumption that this man wasn’t father material instantly contradicted.

‘Is she here with you?’ Carly wanted to know, obviously feeling that she and Paul had been excluded from the conversation long enough.

Jerard Daniels smiled at her, a completely charming smile. ‘Not at the moment, no. She’ll be joining me soon.’

‘That will be nice for you,’ Carly responded to that smile, instantly captivated.

‘Very nice,’ he nodded. ‘How’s the photography going, Paul?’ He suddenly seemed to be remembering his manners.

Velvet relaxed for the first time since she had entered the apartment and discovered Jerard Daniels was their host, his attention at last removed from her. How did he know all those things about her life? And why did he maintain that they had met before when she knew they hadn’t?

She listened to his conversation, sensing that he knew almost as much about photography as Paul did. He was a man who would have a knowledge of many things—and she seemed to be one of them!

Carly was giving her a frowning look, as if to say ‘What’s with you two?’ She wished she knew that herself? She shrugged at the other girl, knowing that Carly was curious about the past relationship Jerard kept insisting they had had. Well, she was curious about it herself!

She wanted to excuse herself after dinner was over, but the two men were still discussing photography, making it highly unlikely that Paul would want to leave just yet. And she could hardly leave without him and Carly, not without making a scene.

So she sat in one of the armchairs, a polite smile of interest fixed falsely on her face as she tried desperately to remember if she and Jerard Daniels had ever met before. He was so adamant that they had, and he didn’t seem the type to lie about something like that. Besides, he was very attractive, having charmed Carly until she was starry-eyed, so he didn’t need to go to such extremes to get a woman.

She watched him as he talked to Paul. He really was very attractive, in a harsh sort of way. Still, it sounded as if life had dealt him a series of hard blows lately, first of all his wife dying of heart disease and then his father dying too. But she really couldn’t say she knew him.

Maybe she reminded him of his wife or something? She could come up with any number of excuses for his mistake in thinking he knew her, but she had no way of knowing if any of them were right.

When Paul finally suggested they leave she stood hurriedly to her feet, eager to be gone.

Once again Jerard Daniels took hold of her arm, holding her easily at his side. ‘You two go ahead,’ he said politely to Paul and Carly. ‘I just want to have a private word with Velvet.’

She swallowed hard. ‘It’s late, Mr Daniels,’ she told him sharply. ‘Perhaps we can talk in the morning?’

‘We’ll see you in the morning, Velvet,’ said Paul before he and Carly stepped into the lift.

‘How dare you!’ Velvet turned angrily on Jerard Daniels once they were alone, forgetting for the moment that he was employing her, remembering only that he had embarrassed her. ‘You know what they’re thinking!’

‘That I’m spending the night up here with you!’ she snapped, two bright spots of angry colour in her cheeks.

‘So I want to leave now. Look, I’m sorry if I don’t remember meeting you before, but I meet such a lot of people in my profession. If we were friends——’

‘We were a little more than that, Velvet,’ he revealed tightly, his features set in harsh lines.

He gave an arrogant inclination of his head. ‘I mean we were lovers, Velvet.’

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Мортимер Кэрол

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Forgotten Lover Carole Mortimer

Table of Contents

CHAPTER ONE