Istanbul Affair

137 Pages·2016·0.79 MB·English

by  Mansell Joanna

Istanbul Affair
By
Joanna Mansell
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE

'Liar,' he said evenly.
'Don't you dare call me a liar!'
'You want to be in this room with me,' Benedict said with absolute
certainty.
Amy had to fight very hard to suppress another shiver. 'I don't want to
be with you and I don't want anything from you.'
'Yes, you do,' he said, his eyes almost black now. 'You want this.'
She supposed she had known all along that she was going to have to
fight him. What she hadn't known was how short-lived that fight was going
to be.
Just one long, deep, overwhelming kiss, and all of her defences were
undermined. Another kiss, shorter yet fiercer, and they began to fall apart.
Benedict raised his head and drew in an unsteady breath. 'Do you want
to be with me?' he challenged roughly.
'No,' she managed to mutter, but in a voice that said the very opposite.
The next kiss demolished the last frail shreds of her defiance.
'Do you?' Benedict repeated. 'I want to hear you say it!'
'Yes,' Amy found herself whispering.
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First published in Great Britain 1991
by Mills & Boon Limited
© Joanna Mansell 1991
Australian copyright 1991
Philippine copyright 1991
This edition 1991
ISBN 0 263 77292 6
CHAPTER ONE
Amy ran her fingers distractedly through the silver-gold strands of her hair,
and read the letter from her cousin, Angeline, for the dozenth time.
Dear Amy, I'm in terrible trouble and danger. You must come to Istanbul at
once. Book into the Golden Horn Hotel, and wait for someone to get in touch
with you. Please, please don't let me down, or I don't know what will happen to
me. And don't tell the police, or you might not see me again.
Angeline had scrawled her name at the bottom, her signature almost
unrecognisable. In fact, the entire letter was barely legible. It was as if the writer
had written it in tremendous haste—or her hand had been shaking so much that
she could hardly hold the pen.
'This is crazy,' Amy muttered to herself. 'No one would want to hurt
Angeline. The letter's got to be some sort of practical joke.'
A loud knocking on the door made her jump violently, and she realised how
much the letter had set her nerves on edge. A glance at her watch told her that
she was late in opening the shop. She was in no state to deal with a customer,
though. Whoever it was would just have to come back later.
She was just reading the letter through yet again when there was another
impatient knock on the door. Amy's green eyes flared. She got up, walked over
to the door, yanked back the hefty bolts and whipped it open. Then she glared at
the man standing outside.
'The shop is closed! It says so very clearly on the sign. Or can't you read?' she
demanded, not caring in the least that she was being very rude.
The man glared straight back at her. 'I haven't come to buy any of this
rubbish. I've come to talk to you. That is, if you're Amy Stewart.'
Amy's eyes took on an even fiercer glow. The antiques and curios that she
sold might not be to everyone's taste, but they most certainly weren't rubbish!
'I'm Amy Stewart,' she informed him, her voice laced with intense dislike.
'But I can't see anyone right now. You'll have to come back at some other time.'