was born in Sydney, educated in Brisbane and has spent most of her adult life living in tropical north Queensland, where she and her husband have raised four children. While she has enjoyed many happy times camping and canoeing in the bush, she also delights in an urban lifestyle—chamber music, contemporary dance, movies and dining out. An English teacher, she has always loved writing, and now, by having her stories published, she is living her most cherished fantasy. Visit www.barbarahannay.com.

Having the Boss’s Babies
Barbara Hannay

www.millsandboon.co.uk

From city girl—to corporate wife!

They’re working side by side, nine to five…. But no matter how hard these couples try to

keep their relationships strictly professional, romance is undeniably on the agenda!

But will a date in the office diary lead to an appointment at the altar?

Find out in this exciting miniseries.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER ONE

SHE was sitting alone at the bar with her back to him, so he wasn’t sure why she caught his attention. Perhaps it was because she seemed so different from the rest of the under-thirty-fives who packed the Hippo Bar for Friday-night cocktails. No laughter or mad flirting for her.

She was staring at her empty cocktail glass, stirring what was left of the ice cubes with a tiny black straw, oblivious to the happy commotion going on all around her.

Her clothes were different, too. No tight hipster jeans or bare midriff, no outrageous jewellery or spangly glitter.

Her shiny dark hair was caught up in a simple knot and her dress, something dark and feminine with one shoulder bare, offered a clear view of the graceful line of her neck and shoulders. Her skirt wasn’t especially short but it managed to reveal rather shapely legs.

He wanted to see her face; if it matched the rest of her it was, at the very least, elegant.

And then, miraculously, she turned and his lungs compressed as if he’d free-dived to the bottom of the Coral Sea. She was quite, quite lovely.

Her eyes were clear grey, her nose classic and her mouth lush. She’d dusted her eyelids with smoky hues and had drawn a fine black line to skim her lower lashes. The make-up gave her a dramatic, dusky allure.

A disturbing fantasy flashed into living Technicolor in his head. He saw her in a different setting, somewhere remote, far away from this city, and she was leaning towards him, her dark eyelashes spiky and wet…her cheeks flushed, her pink lips softly parted…and her eyes were begging him to make love to her.

He cursed softly at his foolishness and spun on his heel, eager to move on, to find a quieter, less crowded bar. But he made the fatal mistake of glancing back over his shoulder.

And this time, he was touched more by her air of solitude than her beauty. Her gaze was fixed on a spot in the distance, and yet she was staring at it without interest, as if she was seeing something else, some inner turmoil.

He recognised that look. He knew the loneliness hovering like a shadowing hawk behind her lovely eyes. There were many times he’d felt that.

Tonight was one of them.

Each year, this anniversary became more and more difficult and he’d chosen to fly north to Cairns a few days earlier than his business commitments required, simply to avoid spending this particular night in Sydney.

He’d planned to spend the night alone—content to be a sightseer, wandering this sultry, tropical city at whim, hoping to blank out bad memories by renewing his acquaintance with the sights and sounds and smells of the far north. A solitary stranger in town.

But now he’d seen the girl at the bar.

And his plans had to change.

Alice was trying to be brave.

It wasn’t easy to sit alone in a bar on her thirtieth birthday. Alone, for heaven’s sake! She had a right to feel down. Seriously down.

The annoying thing was that she had no one but herself to blame; she’d run away from her birthday party. Not the party her workmates had wanted to throw, but the family gathering her mother had insisted on arranging.

Very early in the night, Aunt Bettina had voiced the family’s collective thoughts.

‘Poor Alice,’ she’d said, her voice choking, while her eyes became moons of sympathy. ‘Married before twenty and divorced before thirty. It’s a crying shame.’

No one—repeat, no one—not a single member of the Madigan family had ever been divorced. Louisa, the family’s genealogy expert, had researched on the Internet, so she was certain of this.

No one had been infertile either. And if the men in Alice’s family had ever indulged in extramarital affairs, their women kept very quiet about it. It was an unspoken family law that Madigan women hung on to their husbands.

Alice had committed all three crimes—infertility, an unfaithful husband and a divorce. She was the family failure.

She’d been trying hard to feel good about herself in spite of these disasters. She’d survived a wrecked marriage with her ego intact—just. She knew that she was better alone than she’d ever been with Todd. And she’d learned the bitter lesson that a woman shouldn’t rely on others—certainly not a husband or babies—to make her happy or to give meaning to her life.

It was up to her.

She’d come a long way in the past six months. But tonight her family made her feel like an obliterated body in a single-vehicle crash. No hope. Dead on arrival.

As if turning thirty wasn’t a miserable enough milestone in any woman’s life. As celebrations went, her party had been a flop.

And as soon as the cake was cut she’d made her excuses, claiming that her workmates, who hung out at the Hippo Bar on Friday nights, were waiting for her.

The only problem was that her friends weren’t expecting her and by the time she arrived they’d moved on to a nightclub somewhere, and Alice didn’t have the heart to track them all over town on their cellphones.

So here she was. On the night of her big Three-O. Looking down the barrel of the rest of her life. Alone.

‘Another one?’

Alice blinked at the barman and he pointed to her empty glass. ‘Did you enjoy the French Kiss?’

‘Yes, it was delicious.’

‘So you want to try another cocktail?’

Should she have another? Why not? This wasn’t a night for being careful. Picking up the menu, she scanned the list of outrageous names and smiled. ‘I think I’ll be adventurous and go for a Screaming Orgasm this time.’

‘And I’ll have one, too,’ said a lazy voice beside her.

Alice spun to her left and was surprised to find a man sitting on the stool right next to her. When had he arrived?

He smiled. Slowly. It was a smile that started at his eyes—light blue, clever and good-humoured—and took its time reaching his mouth. With the same lack of haste he let his gaze linger on her and he didn’t try to hide the fact that he liked what he saw.

Something about his eyes and the very male way he was checking her out made her stomach feel ridiculously weightless—as if she’d suddenly toppled over the edge of a cliff.

‘Hi,’ the stranger said.

Alice had no experience of meeting men in bars; her ex-husband had been her first boyfriend and she’d married him before she was out of her teens. If only she could think of some smart, metro-chick response.

‘Hi, yourself,’ she replied.

At a guess, he was in his mid-thirties. He had dark brown hair with just the faintest hint of silver at the temples and a longish face. A strong face. He was lean and suntanned and dressed in chinos and an open-necked white shirt with long sleeves rolled back.

‘You seem to be drinking alone,’ he said. ‘It’s not a healthy habit.’

Alice felt compelled to defend herself. ‘It’s not actually a habit. This is a one-off experience.’

He accepted this with a slight nod. ‘Are you having fun?’

‘The best.’ She straightened her shoulders. ‘What about you?’

‘I prefer the company of others.’

‘But you’re on your own tonight.’

‘Ah, yes,’ he admitted and he sent her another slow smile. ‘But then, I have an excellent excuse.’

She drew a deep breath, aware that a kind of game had begun and the ball was in her court. ‘You just got out of jail?’

His eyes widened slightly and then he chuckled. ‘In a manner of speaking. I’ve escaped from Sydney. I only arrived in town today and I don’t know anyone.’ His blue gaze held hers for breathtaking seconds. ‘Yet.’

OK. Now was the point when she should give this guy the brush-off. But their drinks arrived. And before she could pay, her neighbour pushed several bills across the bar.

‘My shout,’ he said.

She was about to protest.

But she changed her mind. Why the heck shouldn’t she test her wings on a little light flirtation? She was thirty—and for the first time in her adult life she was out on the town as a free agent; two good reasons to let a rather nice-looking guy chat her up in a bar.

If he wanted to.

And if she decided she wanted to let him.

‘So, what’s your excuse for drinking alone?’ he asked her.

‘Aliens abducted my friends.’

One dark eyebrow lifted. ‘How unfortunate for them.’

‘Yes. I guess they’ll wake up in the morning with their memories wiped clean.’

He grinned. ‘It’s happened to a few of my mates after a night on the town.’

Picking up her drink, Alice took a slow sip. ‘What do you think of the cocktail?’ She tried to feel detached as she watched the movements of his lips while he tasted his drink.

‘Not bad.’

‘Have you had one of these before?’

‘No.’ He held his glass to the light and gave the contents a swirl before taking a longer sip. And then he flashed her a wicked smile. ‘This is my very first Orgasm.’

She almost choked, gasped for breath. A cloud of steam rose through her and she tried to ignore it. Stay cool, Alice. Lifting her glass, she offered him a shaky salute. ‘Don’t drink too fast, then.’

And just as she wondered if she was getting out of her depth, she was rescued by a voice calling from across the bar.

‘Hey, Alice—happy birthday!’

It was a guy who worked in the same building as she did. He must have seen the banner the girls had strung in the foyer this morning. She didn’t know him very well, so she gave him a quick wave and hoped he wouldn’t come over. The conversation with this stranger was bordering on crazy, but she didn’t want to be interrupted. Maybe it was the cocktails, but she was feeling a weird but wonderful sense of connection with him.

‘Happy birthday, Alice?’ the stranger asked, and he frowned sharply. ‘Is it really your birthday?’

Oh, man. He looked upset. Was it because he’d realised she was a dead-set loser, abandoned by everyone on her birthday? She’d been hoping to come across as a very together urban goddess.

‘I have a thing about birthdays,’ she said, quickly. ‘I never celebrate them. What are birthdays, after all? Here today, gone tomorrow. I mean, why make a big fuss about turning—oops!’

‘Fair enough,’ he said more equably. ‘Although I’ve always thought that turning oops was something of a milestone.’ Again his eyes held hers and they twinkled with such obvious amusement that she fancied she must have imagined that earlier frown.

‘There’s something to be said for making the most of any reason to celebrate,’ he added.

She raised her glass. ‘I’m celebrating.’ But she didn’t drink. She suspected she’d already had enough and set the glass down again. ‘This conversation is getting a little lopsided.’ She needed to change the subject before she got herself into trouble. ‘You already know my name and my date of birth and I don’t know the first thing about you.’

‘What would you like to know?’

Are you married? He wasn’t wearing a ring but that didn’t mean a darn thing. ‘Your name?’

‘Liam. And if you’re worried about an equal exchange of information, I’m thirty-six, or perhaps I should say oops plus six,’ he added with a smile. ‘And…’ He paused.

‘And?’ She tried unsuccessfully to keep the curiosity out of her voice.

‘It’s my birthday today, too.’

‘You’re joking.’

‘Not at all.’ He pulled a wallet from his back trouser pocket and flipped it open on the bar. And there was his driver’s licence. Conway, Liam Cooper. And sure enough, his date of birth was the fifth of September.

Alice frowned suddenly. Liam Cooper Conway. Where had she heard that name? Liam Conway. Mr Conway. Dr Conway. Professor Conway. Inspector Conway?

No…she was dreaming. She’d never met him before. Besides, he said he was from Sydney. He had a New South Wales driver’s licence and he’d already told her he’d just arrived in town.

‘Anything else you’d like to know?’ he asked.

She thought about this and was only a little shocked to realise this meeting might lose its gloss if she learned too much about this man. She shook her head. Right now Liam Conway was an intriguing Man of Mystery, a figure of limitless potential. He could be anything…

What seemed more important than boring details like his occupation was the fact that he shared her birthday! Her star sign. My God, they were almost soul mates. She rewarded him with her warmest smile. ‘Happy birthday, Liam Conway.’

‘Thank you.’ He returned his wallet to his pocket and lifted his glass. ‘Are you going to finish your drink?’

‘I’m not sure that I should.’ She gave her cocktail a stir with her straw. ‘I don’t know what they put in these things.’

‘Hmm…the ingredients of a Screaming Orgasm. That’s a big question.’

This time, when their gazes met, his eyes signalled a very direct, unambiguous message, a message so dark and sensual that she was both alarmed and excited. Her heart picked up pace, sweat filmed her skin and she felt a sensuous tug deep within her. Good grief. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt like this.

Desperate to change the subject she asked, ‘Where were you on your sixth birthday?’

Liam blinked as if his brain had been in a completely different country and it seemed to take him ages to compute her question. ‘Um—I was on my parents’ orchard down on the Granite Belt.’

‘So, while I was being born, you were stuffing yourself with peaches and plums?’

‘Possibly. Although I would have preferred ice cream if it was on offer.’

‘No party?’

‘My parents didn’t have much time for parties—except on significant birthdays.’

For a moment he seemed lost in a cloud of darkness. He downed his drink quickly and then gave a little shake as if to rid himself of a ghostly presence. Alice had the distinct impression he was sorry he’d told her so much.

‘That’s why I like to celebrate now,’ he said but the intensity in his voice was at odds with his words.

‘I’m all for celebrating.’ But then she remembered that she’d had enough to drink, so her options for celebrating in a bar were limited. Perhaps it was time for her to leave.

She pictured herself hopping off her bar stool, thanking Liam Conway for the cocktail and bidding him farewell. In her mind’s eye she saw herself walking out of the bar and calling a taxi to take her home. Back at her Edge Hill flat, she would listen to one of her favourite Spanish-guitar CDs and drink a chaste cup of hot chocolate, and then she’d read a paperback novel until she fell asleep.

She knew exactly what she would do, what she should do. It was all very clear.

But she didn’t move.

‘It really is bad luck to have your friends abducted by aliens on your birthday,’ Liam said quietly.

‘Yeah,’ Alice agreed with a rueful smile. ‘I was hoping I’d finished my run of bad luck.’ And immediately she regretted saying that. ‘Sorry, you’re looking for fun, not hard-luck stories.’

Liam shrugged. ‘I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. Until I saw you.’

His smile sent a delicious shiver right through her and she reached for her abandoned drink.

‘It was a guy who put those shadows in your eyes, wasn’t it?’ Liam said.

She was too surprised to be cautious. ‘Yes.’

‘A rat?’

‘A toad.’ She might have smiled at that, but to her dismay the scene she’d tried so hard to forget leapt into her mind and her sorry state came tumbling out. ‘I—I came home early one afternoon and found him in bed with another woman.’

Pressing a fist against her mouth, she struggled again with the horror of the memory.

Liam looked genuinely upset. ‘Toad is too polite for a man like that. Some of us have a lot to answer for.’

His unexpected empathy seemed to open the flood-gates on the feelings she’d been working so hard to hide. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have been so surprised,’ she found herself saying. ‘I’d been picking up the tell-tale signs that Todd was straying. I just didn’t want to believe it.’

Tears sprang to her eyes. Annoyed, she blinked and Liam picked up a paper serviette from the counter. ‘Your mascara looks great,’ he said. ‘Don’t ruin it.’

‘Thanks.’ She dabbed at her eyes, took a deep breath and released a shaky little laugh. ‘You know, the thing that really upset me was that Todd added insult to injury by bringing this other woman into our bedroom.’

‘So you were living with this guy?’

‘He was my husband. I was married to the toad.’ She twisted a corner of the serviette. ‘He knew how much I loved that room. I’d taken such care choosing everything—the curtains, the carpet, the bed linen. The dressing table came from my grandparents’ place. They’d had it in their bedroom for their whole married life.’ Looking up, she said, ‘Sorry, I don’t expect you to understand.’

Liam shook his head. ‘But I do understand. He didn’t just deceive you, he violated your special place.’

Liam Conway wasn’t just gorgeous; he was sensitive, too. She’d almost forgotten such men existed.

‘I hope you got rid of him,’ he said.

‘Absolutely, especially when I found that this woman was one of many.’ She sighed. ‘Our divorce came through four months ago.’ And then she winced. Admitting her failed marriage always made her feel such a loser.

‘No wonder you still look a little shell-shocked.’

‘I’m fine now. Honestly. It’s in the past.’ The confession was off her chest and that was good, but she didn’t want to bore this lovely man witless. ‘I’ve got a new life ahead of me.’

‘Another thing to celebrate,’ he said. And then, ‘So…why don’t we go and find a place where we can dance?’

Heavens, she hadn’t been dancing in years. Todd had always claimed he hated it, so they’d never danced, and she was way out of practice. ‘I’m afraid I’m not much of a dancer,’ she said.

‘I don’t believe that.’ Liam stood and he was even taller than she’d expected. ‘Come on,’ he coaxed. ‘It’s our birthday. Let’s kick up our heels.’

Kick up her heels? She sent a flustered glance towards her feet. Her strappy black sandals had rather high heels and she’d painted her toenails bright berry-red to match her red and black floral dress.

From above her she heard Liam say, ‘They look like dancing feet to me.’

She took a deep breath and looked up at him again. Gulp. There was something so compelling about him, something unmistakably masculine about the contained strength in his lean body and in the strong, straight planes of his face, in the intention signalled by his eyes. She should make a quick get-away now, before she became completely entranced.

She didn’t want to get involved with another man, not yet, when the war-wounds from her divorce were still raw.

But a voice inside her was urging her to throw caution to the winds.

His eyes are as soulful as they are sexy. Why hesitate? It’s only dancing, after all. And anyway, surely you have the perfect excuse to be daring? You’ll never have another thirtieth birthday.

She picked up her bag from the bar.

Go on, Alice. He seems s-o-o-o nice.

She flashed him a bright return smile. ‘OK. Dancing sounds like fun.’

He grinned. ‘Let’s go.’

Outside on the footpath a photographer was taking a photo of a trio of laughing girls and, as Alice and Liam passed, there was a blinding flash from the camera.

The photographer called after them, ‘Sir, can I take a photo of you and your lovely lady?’

Liam scowled and waved him away.

‘Welcome to North Queensland,’ said Alice. ‘The local papers are always snapping people for their social pages.’

‘Glad we escaped, then.’ Liam took her hand.

Oh, heavens. She was super-sensitive to every millimetre of his skin, to the supple strength of his fingers interlaced with hers.

‘Where’s the best place in town for dancing?’ he asked.

‘The Reef Club is supposed to be very good.’

‘Supposed?’

‘I’ve never actually been there.’

He shot her a curious glance and she hoped it wasn’t because he could feel the wave of warmth that had swept through her when he touched her.

More than likely he was wondering about her restricted social life. If he asked, she would be prepared to explain that, although she worked for a tourist company, she specialised in regional tours and she didn’t have much personal experience of local night spots.

Liam didn’t ask. And Alice was relieved, because an explanation would have led to more details about her failed marriage. Todd had preferred to spend his weekends on game-fishing trips out to the Barrier Reef, or heavy drinking and gambling with his mates, rather than taking her out on the town.

But telling Liam about that could be an information overload. There was every chance he didn’t really want to know much about her at all.

He simply wanted her company for an hour or so. No strings attached. And that suited Alice just fine. The last thing she wanted was to leap straight from her disastrous marriage into another relationship. Besides, she’d always supposed that divorcees indulged in this kind of throwing-off-the-shackles adventure.

But she would feel a darned sight calmer about going dancing with a man she’d just met if she didn’t feel quite so attracted to him. She hadn’t expected to feel so quickly attuned, to be so instantly captivated and breathless.

It was more than a decade since she’d first fallen for the best-looking footballer in her high school. She knew she was out of practice at the whole guy-girl scenario, but surely she shouldn’t feel such an emotional connection with a stranger? Or such a heady jolt of awareness whenever Liam Conway looked at her? Whenever she looked at him.

How on earth would she cope when they started dancing? Perhaps she should start praying now. With luck, the band at the Reef Club played loud, fast music where dancers more or less jigged around without touching.

No such luck.

One step into the foyer of the Reef Club and she saw that the lighting was low, the music slow and bluesy, and the dance floor dark and crowded. One look at the dangerous smoulder in Liam Conway’s blue eyes and she knew she was in trouble.

Liam sent her a slow smile. ‘Shall we dance, birthday girl?’ And without even waiting for her reply, he took her hand and led her onto the shadowy dance floor. And suddenly it was happening. Alice was in his arms.

She was excited, terrified—electrified, her senses on full alert. Cocooned by the darkness and the sexy croon of a saxophone, they swayed together slowly and she felt everything super-keenly—the touch of Liam’s breath softly stirring her hair, the muscled strength of his shoulder beneath her hand, his taut, lean body brushing tantalisingly close to hers.

If she closed her eyes her nostrils filled with the subtle tang of his aftershave, and if she opened them again she was captivated by the lazy sweep of the strobe light, giving her glimpses of Liam’s face and the contrast between her pale skin and his tan.

From the moment she’d met this man she’d been walking a tightrope. Perhaps her emotions were tipping her off balance? She felt spellbound by him—by their coinciding birthdays, by the kind way he’d listened to her sob story, by the hungry way he looked at her. And now, in his arms, she was incredibly ablaze.

Clearly the long months of loneliness during her separation and divorce had taken their toll.

She wanted Liam to kiss her. She wanted his hands on her body, and yes, she wanted him to make love to her.

The wanting filled her head, blanking out reason.

And she suspected that Liam’s mind was on the same fast-track. Despite the ease with which he moved about the dance floor, there was no mistaking the subtle tension in his body, or the unsubtle desire in his eyes.

His lips brushed her forehead and a soft, almost desperate little sigh escaped him.

The dark, masculine sound plunged deep within Alice and the last, fragile threads of her resistance gave way. Helpless, she melted against him and desire flowered, surged and spilled inside her.

He drew her even closer, and nudged against her with sweet, unbearable precision. With his mouth against her ear, he murmured, ‘Have you any idea how bloody beautiful you are?’

They were hardly the words or the actions of a gentleman and she knew she should have been shocked. But she was too lost inside her cloud of desire. And her throat was so choked with emotion she couldn’t have voiced a protest even if she’d tried to.

And then, in the lull between one song and the next, he said, ‘Birthday girl, I want to take you home.’

Oh, God. Alice buried her face in his shoulder, her heart beating like a wild creature. She’d known from the moment she left the Hippo Bar that there was every possibility the evening was heading in this direction, but for one hot, terrifying moment of panic her courage failed her. A casual fling was so outside her experience.

Liam gently stroked her neck. ‘Bad idea?’

Was it? Alice tried to think calmly, but she was such a swirling mass of emotion and desire she was beyond the point of rational decision-making.

But she knew there was one important question she had to ask. She tilted her face so that her husky whisper reached him. ‘Tell me one thing; are you married?’

‘No.’ He said that so definitely she knew that he spoke the truth.

Raising her eyes to meet the hot intensity of his, she said, ‘It’s not a bad idea, Liam.’

The rasp of his indrawn breath made her shiver. He was as tense, as consumed as she was. She could hardly breathe.

They left the Reef Club holding hands and yet hardly daring to look at each other as they passed beneath the glow of overhead lights.

‘I didn’t bring my car,’ Alice said. ‘Did you?’

For the briefest moment she sensed a different kind of tension in him. ‘No; I haven’t organised a vehicle yet.’

‘Well,’ she said lightly, ‘there should be plenty of taxis around tonight.’

She felt impossibly shy as they stood near the edge of the footpath, waiting for a taxi. ‘I—I guess this is where one of us says, your place or mine?’

His light blue eyes seemed to shimmer. ‘I’m sure that should be your choice.’

The taxi arrived and they slipped into the back seat. Liam glanced at Alice as the driver waited expectantly. This was it; no turning back now. And it was her choice.

She gave the driver the address of her flat in Edge Hill. Better to be on home ground. The thought gave her an illusion of control. Besides, she was rather proud of her flat; she’d bought it with her share from the sale of the house she’d shared with Todd.

It was ultra-modern and brand new and it was such a novelty to have her very own private space that she kept it looking fabulous. Her friends teased her that she was expecting Home Beautiful magazine to call, begging to feature her place in their next big spread.

Thinking about her friends’ gentle teasing helped to calm her as the taxi sped them through the dark streets. It helped too that Liam sat a little apart from her and she was relieved that he wasn’t panting all over her on the back seat.

Nevertheless she could sense his tension and her body burned with breathless, coiling anticipation. What kind of lover was this man?

What kind of lover was she? Not much of one, if Todd’s straying from her bed was any indication. But there was something about Liam’s frank and open appreciation of her that shored up the confidence Todd had undermined.

A welcome cool breeze greeted them as they stepped from the taxi. Above them a new moon spilled a romantic silver sheen over the lush fronds of the palm trees that lined Alice’s street.

‘Nice location,’ Liam said and then he fell silent as they walked along the brick path flanked by newly landscaped gardens.

It wasn’t till Alice was fishing in her bag for her door key that she was hit by a rush of sudden doubts. Was she making a terribly stupid mistake? She didn’t know anything about this man. She didn’t do this kind of thing.

If a clairvoyant had told her she would bring home a good-looking stranger from a bar, she would have laughed in her face and demanded her money back.

When it came to dating trends, Alice had been left behind in the last century. Although her unattached friends seemed to think nothing of having sex for no other reason than because they fancied a guy, until tonight Alice had never dreamed of being so rash. Not in her wildest fantasies. Well, OK, maybe in her wildest fantasies—but since when were they reliable?

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Having the Boss's Babies

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BARBARA HANNAY