spontaneous,â Val reasoned. âLucky for us! Iâll have to check with Roberto that heâs got enough gourmet food for the extra guests. What are their names?â Val looked back at her monitor screen. âMarried couple, currently staying at the Ayerâs Rock resort, chartering a plane to fly directly here tomorrow, expected arrival time three oâclockâ¦and their names are Celine and Bobby Hewson.â Miranda could feel the blood draining from her face. âRight!â she said weakly, and spun out of the office before Val saw the shock sheâd delivered. For several moments she leaned back against the closed door, fighting to recover some equilibrium. Maybe it was another Bobby Hewson whose wife just happened to be named Celine. They werenât uncommon names. Ayerâs Rock, where they were currently staying, was like an Australian Mecca for touristsâ¦the ancient red heart of the continentâ¦but she couldnât imagine the Bobby she knew wanting to go there. But what about his wife? If she had accompanied him to Sydneyâ¦a honeymoon sight-seeing trip⦠Wife⦠Miranda shook her head. Surely they werenât even married yet. The engagement had only been announced three months ago. Shouldnât it take longer than that to arrange a big society wedding? It had to be some other couple. Had to be⦠There was one way of settling any uncertainty. Galvanised into action, Miranda strode down the hall to her live-in quarters, intent on putting through a private call to the manager of the Ayerâs Rock resort. The Bobby Hewson she knew would not be an unobtrusive guest. He would demand the best suite, the best service, and would let the manager know precisely who he was and what he stood for. Once inside her self-contained apartment, Miranda moved straight to the telephone on her bedside table. She reached for the receiver, saw that her hand was trembling and sat down on the bed to compose herself, taking several deep breaths before proceeding to make the needed contact. A few minutes later she was connected to the man who could give her the critical information. âThis is Miranda Wade, manager of the Kingâs Eden Resort.â âHi, there! What can I do for you?â âToday we took a booking for a Mr and Mrs Bobby Hewsonâ¦â âAh yes, made it for him myself. He and his wife had planned to fly on to Broome. Another couple we have staying hereâyouâll remember themâJohn and Robyn Trumbellâapparently raved on about Kingâs Eden and they decided to take in a weekend there. Lucky you could accommodate them.â âYes. Would that be the Bobby Hewson of the Regent Hotel chain?â âCertainly is,â came the dry reply. Mirandaâs heart dropped like a stone. âAnd his wife is a member of the Parmentier family who owns the Soleil Levant chain,â the manager ran on, confirming their identities beyond any possible doubt. âItâs her first trip to Australia. Keen to see the sights.â Coincidenceâ¦sheer rotten coincidence that they had connected with the Trumbells! And finding available accommodation here! Miranda felt too sick to speak. âMr Hewson mentioned that youâd been trained up to a managerial position at the Regent in Sydney. Sounded as though he was interested in finding out how youâre dealing with an outback resort.â Bobby knew she was here! It wasnât just a trick of fate. He knew . John or Robyn Trumbell must have spoken of her. And that was why he was breaking his trip to Broome to come to Kingâs Eden. Nothing to do with the sights , though heâd probably played that line to his wife. Bobby Hewson, Miranda knew with stomach-churning certainty, had her in his sights! âI thought it might be him,â she forced herself to say through the bitter taste of bile. âThank you for filling me in.â âWell, I