April hopped out of the shower and quickly dried herself, then spent the next ten minutes standing in the towel trying to work her unruly tangles into some semblance of a style. By the time she called it quits, she had only partially succeeded, but rather than chopping it off in a fit of rage, she wisely decided to give up. Checking her phone for the tenth time, she noticed she’d missed a call from Lachlan while she was in the shower. Smiling she listened to his message, then she returned the call immediately only to be greeted by his voicemail, so she left a message of her own and continued to get dressed for the day.

  Glancing critically at the few outfits she had brought with her, April frowned. What do you wear when you meet with a fashion designer? Coming up with a blank, she shrugged and pulled on a pair of jeans and a grass green, long sleeve knit shirt. If David Anderson was expecting some sophisticated model in designer clothes, then he would be in for a shock.

  April walked into David Anderson’s design studio half an hour later with some trepidation. The front reception room was like a portrait gallery with gorgeous women in stunning clothing adorning the walls. The receptionist clearly equalled each one in beauty and style and April entertained a brief thought that she had indeed stepped out of one of the posters.

  “Hi. I’m April. I have an appointment with Mr. Anderson,” she said when the receptionist greeted her.

  “He’s the tall scruffy guy through there.” The woman smiled, pointing toward the door behind her. April was surprised by her friendliness, she’d been expecting the stereotypical haughty superiority that everyone always assumes models cultivate. She thanked her and walked through the door into chaos.

  David Anderson stood amongst reams of material, barking instructions to half a dozen people with clipboards. She approached slowly, cautiously and waited until he sent his people away on their errands.

  “Mr. Anderson?” she said hesitantly. “My name’s April—”

  “Oh yes.” He cut her off, grabbing her hand and spinning her around. “Lachlan was absolutely right… Babe, you are perfect for me!”

  “What?” she asked stupidly.

  “I mean your body, it’s perfect and I can’t wait to get my hands on you.”

  “Umm…” April wasn’t quite sure what to say. He didn’t appear threatening, but his words weren’t exactly comforting either.

  “My dresses are for real women,” David explained wickedly with an equally wicked I-want-to-eat-you-for-breakfast glint in his eyes. “Women with breasts, women with bums you can squeeze, women with curves to make a man drool and you April, you fit that brief perfectly.” She blushed deeply, not sure whether to be flattered or insulted.

  He was nothing like she would have expected. He wore jeans with what appeared to be genuine rips in them—not strategically placed designer rips—his shirt was untucked and he’d missed a button when doing it up, so it sat crookedly across his chest, and the week-old growth that adorned his chin was scruffy and unkempt. She smiled tentatively at him, still a little unsure of herself.

  “Well, come on then.” He dragged her across the room. “Let’s see if we can do that figure some justice.”

  So April decided to like him, and for the next couple of hours willingly tried on everything he presented until finally they both settled on a striking, sapphire blue velvet gown that reminded April of the colour of Lachlan’s eyes, and that hugged her breasts and hips magnificently and then flowed the rest of the way to the floor.

  “David, it’s stunning!” she breathed as she looked at herself in the mirror.

  “The dress is beautiful,” he agreed, “but it’s not stunning unless you’re in it.” She blushed with pleasure at his compliment.

  While he set about pinning the dress and making a few adjustments, she finally worked up the courage to ask him what she had been dying to know. “So how do you know Lachlan?” She hoped her voice sounded casual.

  “We went to school together. Played on the same footy team.” He laughed at the look of surprise on her face.

  “Sorry,” she said quickly. “It’s just that—”

  “I know, footy player and women’s fashion designer don’t usually go together. But I would’ve hoped that by now you’d appreciate that I’m not your typical fashion designer.”

  “No, of course not! I mean for starters I actually like your clothes.” Her voice dripped with flattery, and she fluttered her eyes at him for added effect.

  He grinned appreciatively. “Good, because it’s not often I give up so much of my day to just one client.”

  Her face fell. “Oh, I’m sorry. Have I been taking up too much of your time? Do you want me to go? I’m sure the dress will be fine as it is.”

  “Relax. I didn’t mean it that way.” He put a placating hand on her shoulder. “I’m actually really enjoying myself. You’re not like the usual women I have to dress, all full of themselves and expecting me to ruin my dresses with padding just so they can wear them. No, I’m glad Lachlan sent you my way and I’m more than happy to give up my time if it means I can work with real curves. Besides, I’m not letting you leave here until this dress is as perfect as you are.”

  April flushed again and wondered if she would burst a vein with so much blood rushing to her cheeks all day. The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur as she tried on a selection of undergarments to see which would best complement the dress and was then given strict instructions about what style of shoe would suit. It was late afternoon when David packed her in a taxi with her new underwear in a bag and the promise to send her dress to the hotel on Friday afternoon.

  Checking her phone, she saw another couple of missed calls from Lachlan and quickly punched in his number, cursing when it rang out and went to voicemail. After leaving a brief message, she sat back in the taxi and watched the city traffic move slowly around her. Her mind wandered to the charity ball.

  Was she making a mistake? She would be attending a major event with the most recognisable face in Australia. No matter how many promises Lachlan made, he couldn’t guarantee that her picture wouldn’t be taken, that she wouldn’t be identified.

  An image appeared in her head of the day she woke Marie up before dawn and quietly helped her get dressed. Taking only what they could carry, they’d walked to the nearest bus stop, a distance no six-year-old should have to travel while carrying a heavy bag. And yet she hadn’t complained, not even once.

  As soon as they were safely on the bus, April had vowed to herself that she would protect her sister at all costs. She would take her away to safety and she would do nothing to draw attention to them until Marie was eighteen and finished school.

  But Marie was only sixteen, and she still had almost two years left of school. So what was April doing in Sydney signing a movie deal? Why was she accepting invitations to balls that could get her photo taken? If she was recognised, they would come. If she was recognised, she would lose Marie, she would lose everything.

  By the time she arrived back at the hotel, she was exhausted and collapsed on her bed, falling asleep within moments. It was dark when she woke up and she quickly checked the time on her phone. Seven o’clock. And no more missed calls from Lachlan since early in the afternoon. She felt a knot of dread developing in the pit of her stomach as she dialled his number. It went straight to voicemail.

  It occurred to her that he might not show, that he wouldn’t want to show. Ignoring her fear, she changed into a long black skirt with a black knit shirt and then began tackling her hair. Half an hour later, just as the butterflies in her stomach had reached plague capacity, there was a knock at her door.

  She rushed to open it and fell into his arms the moment she saw him. “Sorry I’m late.” He returned her embrace with a smile. “The shoot went late and my phone was flat.” Then he dropped a kiss on her lips.

  April stepped back, silently cursing herself for acting so needy and clingy after spending one night with him. Okay, two nights, but only one had involved mind-blowing sex. She hadn’t realised just how worrie
d she’d been that he wouldn’t show until he turned up at her door, and yet she knew this thing between them wasn’t serious. Could never be serious. So much for going into this with your eyes open! Suddenly Saturday morning loomed like a door that once closed, could never be opened again. She bit her lip to stop it from trembling.

  Three more nights. That’s all she had left with him. She couldn’t kid herself anymore that come Saturday she could walk away unfazed by whatever this was. Right now the best she could hope for was to make the break with her heart intact. Even that goal was fast becoming out of reach.

  “Hey, you okay?” Lachlan came up behind her and massaged her shoulders.

  She started at his touch and cleared her throat. “Uh yeah, sorry.”

  “You seem a bit distracted, are you upset I didn’t call?”

  “No, it’s not that. It doesn’t matter, let’s order dinner.”

  “Okay, but April…” He gently guided her shoulders to face him and then took both her hands in his. “You will tell me if something’s bothering you, won’t you?”

  April nodded and gave a small smile. It seemed to be enough and the concern drained from his face.

  “Are we ordering in again?” he asked.