His Australian Heiress by Margaret Way Page A

matrimony department, Beth thought. He was a prig and a controller. “A slight disagreement.” He brushed off Beth’s offensive words. “No more. Nothing came of it. We can’t stand around chatting, Carol. We have to go.”
    â€œYou’re not driving up the mountain, surely?” Beth asked, suddenly concerned for the safety of her friend. Carol had been born late in life to her well-respected, dignified parents, now in their mid-sixties. Consequently Carol had lived a very quiet, overtly protected life. Until she met Simon Mansfield, that was. From that moment, Carol was doomed. Simon Mansfield had simply taken her over like a modern-day Svengali. Their unlikely romance had flourished, to the consternation of Carol’s friends.
    â€œI can’t see how that’s any of your business,” Simon was saying, bringing Beth back to the moment, “but I assure you, I’m under the limit. Last call, Carol. Are you coming with me or not?”
    Anxiety cast a shadow over Carol’s face. “Ahm . . .” she murmured. Remarkably, Carol was dithering. Beth touched her arm to give her support. “If you’re nervous, Carol, I’d advise you to stay here. It’s getting late to be driving another ninety minutes or so to the Blue Mountains.”
    Once more Simon placed a heavy hand on Carol’s thin shoulder. “It’s hardly the Matterhorn,” he scoffed. “You’ve said your piece, Ms. Reed. I’ll take very good care of Carol, but thank you so much for your concern. Come along, Carol.”
    Carol was looking extremely upset. Why didn’t she tell Mansfield to bugger off? Carol’s friends would rally around. “You’ve certainly got a bullying way about you,” Beth said, realizing she loathed this guy as much as he apparently loathed her. Simon Mansfield really needed to get himself sorted.
    â€œAnd you should learn to mind your own business,” Simon snapped, the colour rising to his lean cheeks.
    Carol barely had time to say good night to her friend, let alone beg Beth to make her apologies to her hosts, before Simon moved her off so fast her feet were barely touching the ground. “What a truly detestable bitch,” Simon gave his considered opinion of Beth Reed. “I’ve always thought she was gay,” he said with sweeping intolerance.
    â€œShe isn’t ,” Carol found the courage to reply. “As if anyone cares one way or the other. Beth is my friend.”

Chapter 5
    R oyce Weld, Brendon’s longtime close friend, was passing through the entrance hall in time to witness the unexpected arrival of Simon Mansfield. He had a rather plain young woman glued to his side. Royce knew Mansfield hadn’t been invited, so he made a dash to Brendon’s side, pulling him away from the laughing group that circled him.
    â€œBren, I say—guess who’s here?”
    Brendon turned to give Royce his full attention. “Santa?” he asked, with a deadpan face.
    â€œTry again. The insufferable Simon Mansfield. He has some poor girl in tow. She doesn’t look happy.”
    â€œMy God!” Instantly Brendon felt his temper rise. “What a bloody nuisance! Where is he?”
    â€œHe was coming through the door when I spotted him. I believe he was about to place Charlie’s birthday present under the tree,” Royce said.
    â€œWas he now?” Brendon said grimly. “I might have to enlist your aid to run him back to his car.”
    â€œNo problem. I suppose Charlie should be told? Hang on, here she comes,” he said in relief. “She’s got a real antennae for trouble, has Charlie. Might be best we go softly . . . softly.”
    â€œI’m not buying that, Royce. I know Mansfield. The way I see it is he’s here to make trouble.”
    â€œI get the picture. So, what now?”
    â€œWe have a word—” Brendon broke off as Charlotte, moving