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CHAPTER ONE

EVEN the brilliant Mediterranean sunshine couldn’t lighten her mood

With a stab of frustration, Kat pushed the spill of dark hair away froainst the soft leather seat of the liht were still vivid A night when accusations—and counter-accusations—had spun through the air like the blade of a helicopter And another guilty faly head

If only…

If only it hadn’t happened at the glittering Balfour Charity Ball—where half the world’s press had been cahty scoop Briefly, Kat closed her eyes Bet they couldn’t believe their luck

Last year’s ball had been bad enough—when she had ant Spaniard, Carlos Guerrero—but at least nobody except her father had witnessed it This ti the news that their beloved sister Zoe had been sired by another man and was not a true Balfour after all

Scenting blood—the paparazzi had been baying around the fabulous faain the Balfour name had been splashed all over the papers Those words Kat had become so used to, whenever her faain the hot topic of the day Words that still had the power to wound, no matter how many times she’d heard them

Scandal

Shame

Secrets

And the truth was that, yes, the Balfours were bris—and more But just because they were rich, didn’t mean they were impervious to pain or hurt Prick them, and they bled—just like everybody else Nobody saw that, of course, and nobody ever would—well, certainly not in Kat’s case She allowed herself a grim smile Because the moment you showed hurt, you erous thing of all Didn’t she know that better than anyone?

She stared out of the car , renity The same way that she always coped She’d cut loose and run from the family estate Not far, it was true—only as far as London—where she had booked into a hotel, using a fake nalasses to hide behind Until her father had rung her yesterdayher an ‘opportunity’

Why had she felt a h Oscar was her true blood father, he had never been close to her heart in the same way as her beloved stepfather, Victor? Kat blinked back the tears which sprang to her eyes and replaced theoing to think about her stepfather, or the past She just wasn’t Because that way lay ret and all those other painful eht like crazy to keep at bay

Nonetheless, her voice had been wary as she’d replied, ‘What kind of opportunity, Daddy?’

There had been a pause Had she iined the unfamiliar steely quality which had entered his voice? ‘The kind of opportunity which should be seized,’ he said flatly ‘Didn’t you tell ht that you were bored with your life, Kat?’

Had she said that? In a h to let on to the patriarch of the Balfour clan that a strea through her veins?

‘Did I?’

‘Indeed you did So why not grab at the opportunity for a change of scene and a change of air How does a boat trip round the Mediterranean sound?’