She did so, Natalie making a mental note of it as she thought up a strategy to satisfy her parents till she could take care of the whole mortgage. Though Lord knew what she was going to tell them then. Maybe that she’d won the lottery.

‘I’ll go see the manager tomorrow and organise to have your mortgage refinanced at a lower interest rate,’ she offered. ‘Rates have come down considerably since you took out that loan. And I’ll cover your first few months’ payments. Give you some breathing space.’

‘Would you? Oh, darling, that would be wonderful. I’ve been so worried.’

‘Yes, Mum, I’m sure you have been. But you don’t have to be any longer. I would never see you tossed out of your home. You must know that.’

‘You are such a good girl.’

Natalie grimaced. That all depended on one’s definition of good. Was it good to marry a man strictly for money?

She supposed it wasn’t bad, if the money was for a good cause and you didn’t prostitute yourself as well by sleeping with him.

It was bad, however, to secretly wish that you were doing just that.

Natalie smothered a groan. It was no use. She had to confess, if only to herself, that just the thought of sleeping with Mike Stone was insidiously exciting.

It was just as well that he was firm on the ‘no sex’ part of their arrangement. And that he wasn’t attracted to her.

Natalie would hate to think what would happen if he fancied her. She would make a fool of herself all right. Not in the way she’d been a fool over Brandon. She would never fall in love with Mike, or think he was anything other than the ruthless, arrogant, mercenary devil that he was.

But she didn’t want him lumping her together with all the other silly women he’d obviously bedded and not wedded. In her case, Natalie was determined it was going to be a case of wedded, and not bedded.

‘I still can’t stay and chat, Mum,’ she said. ‘I’m going out to dinner with my client.’

‘I hope he’s paying.’

‘Mum, this is me you’re talking to. Miss Budget-wise. Of course, he’s paying.’

‘In that case, eat up, dear. You’re getting too thin, you know.’

Natalie had to laugh. Thin, she was not. But her mother always thought she was.

‘I’ll ring you tomorrow night,’ she promised. ‘Let you know how I went with the bank. Bye.’

‘Bye, dear. And thanks again.’

Natalie resisted the temptation to primp and preen before joining Mike outside. She just grabbed her black carryall, locked the front door and launched herself out into the street.

His car was as macho as he was, she thought as she hurried towards it. An all-black four-wheel drive with darkly tinted windows that exuded a faintly menacing air.