Happy Mother's Day!

Her breath caught in her throat at the tenderness in his eyes.

‘I love you so much!’ she whispered. ‘In fact,’ she confided happily, ‘my cup pretty much runneth over. I’m so happy I might explode any minute.’

‘The exploding might have more to do with the twins,’ Francesco suggested drily.

‘Gosh, is that the scary critic?’ she asked, watching a small balding man with an air of vast self-importance approach.

‘That is Felix Mortimer himself,’ Francesco confirmed. ‘He’s smiling—you have made it, cara. I can see that I will have to get used to myself referred to as Erin Romanelli’s husband.’

Erin lifted her head for his kiss. ‘I love you so much.’

‘And I love you, but now run along—your public await.’ He tapped her encouragingly on the bottom.

He watched with pride as she was greeted obsequiously by the critic. Francesco smiled. He could spare his Erin for a little while, because Francesco knew that she would always come back to him.

Meant-To-Be Mother

ALLY BLAKE

About the Author

Having once been a professional cheerleader, Ally Blake‘s motto is “Smile and the world smiles with you.” One way to make Ally smile is by sending her on holidays—especially to locations which inspire her writing. New York and Italy are by far her favourite destinations. Other things that make her smile are the gracious city of Melbourne, the gritty Collingwood football team, and her gorgeous husband, Mark.

Reading romance novels was a smile-worthy pursuit from long back. So, with such valuable preparation already behind her, she wrote and sold her first book. Her career as a writer also gives her a perfectly reasonable excuse to indulge in her stationery addiction. That alone is enough to keep her grinning every day! Ally would love for you to visit her at her website, www.allyblake. com.

To my gorgeous genius of a godson, Lachlan.

Hugs and kisses from your Auntie Ally.

CHAPTER ONE

SIENA CAPULETTI was going home.

And where for most people that would bring about happy thoughts of familiar faces, their own bed and their favourite pillow, the concept had poor Siena in a cold sweat.

Well, okay, so the wet clammy feeling could also have come from the fact that she had just been on the receiving end of a well-flung can of cola courtesy of a pouting kid in the aeroplane seat next to her.

But still … clammy was clammy. Uncomfortable. Hot and cold all at once. Nope. It was definitely thoughts of home making her feel that way. Home just didn’t bring about warm and fuzzy feelings in Siena.

The splotch of insidious brown beverage inching its way across her Dolce and Gabbana skirt and matching jacket—the only ‘interview outfit’ she had packed for her short trip to her provincial home town—grew larger and overtook the proportion of clean cream tweed.

‘Excellent,’ she said under her breath.

Siena craned her head past the rows of seats as she flapped her sticky outfit away from her damp body. Where was a flight attendant when she needed one? Nowhere. That’s where.

It was a sign. She wasn’t meant to be heading to Cairns on that day seated on a plane; she ought to have been suited up in her usual baby-blue skirt suit, matching pillbox hat and beige high heels, working the aisle as a Cabin Director for MaxAir rather than finding herself at the mercy of one.

But when Maximillian Sned, the eccentric septuagenarian owner of MaxAir—the funky, cosmopolitan, fun-and-games airline for which she worked—had summoned her to meet him to discuss a ‘fabulous career move’—his words—at his palatial home north of Cairns, what choice had she had? Even though, if the rumour mill was correct, and let’s face it, it usually was, his offer was going to entail a fabulous move to Cairns to stay.

Double excellent.

A hard kick to the shins brought Siena back to the less than pleasant present.

Blithely ignoring the pint-sized, cola-flinging, kick-boxing champ to her left, Siena tried to remember the meditation class she had once taken—close your eyes, take deep calming breaths and think of a happy place. A beach hut in Hawaii? A Swiss ski resort? That shoe shop on Madison Avenue she couldn’t walk into without spending a week’s pay?

But Siena was surprised to find she could barely recollect the shapes and colours and sensation of being anywhere but the inside of a plane—

‘I am soooooo sorry it took me so long! We have a guy in the back row who can juggle soft drink cans. Seriously, soft drink cans! He was teaching me and I almost had it down.’