Table Of ContentThere was a gorgeous, almost naked woman in his bed
Max woke to find himself curled around Maddy, her rear nestled into the
cradle formed by his hips and thighs. One of his arms was wrapped around her
torso. Her hair was everywhere, streaming across the pillow, across his shoulder
and arm.
He was painfully hard, his erection pressed against the roundness of her
backside. His hand somehow crept beneath her T-shirt to rest just below the
lower curve of her breasts.
God, she felt good. Small and sleek and feminine.
He wanted to flex his hips and grind himself against her so badly it hurt. His
whole body tensed as he imagined sliding his hand up a few vital inches and
cupping her breast. He could almost feel the softness of it beneath his hand.
He closed his eyes. He had to back off. Now.
Then Maddy stirred, her body flexing in his embrace, her backside snuggling
closer to his hips.
He’d never been so close to losing control in his life.
Dear Reader,
This is (hopefully) the only book in my career that I will ever have to write
twice. I’m still not quite sure how it happened, but the whole of the almost-
completed manuscript for Amorous Liaisons was swallowed by my computer
just before Christmas 2007—and I didn’t have a backup. Much gnashing of teeth
and hair pulling and desperate sobbing later, I sat down to start writing again.
Fortunately I had the first three chapters in a separate file, and I knew exactly
what needed to happen because, well, I’d already written the book once. It was
hard, and there were times when I was desperate for this book to be finished, but
I am now also pretty proud of myself for completing it. Is it the same as the first
version? I will never know. Is it a satisfying, emotional read? I hope you think so
—it was certainly a satisfying, emotional write.
I did a lot of research into retired ballet dancers before I wrote this book and
I was constantly moved by their stories. When you become passionate about
something at four years old, having to leave it behind at thirty is a real blow. I
truly felt Maddy’s pain as I wrote, and I hope her story resonates with you.
I love hearing from readers. You can contact me via my Web site
www.sarahmayberryauthor.com, or via snail mail at Harlequin Enterprises Ltd.,
225 Duncan Mill Road, Toronto, ON M3B 3K9, Canada.
Happy reading,
Sarah Mayberry
AMOROUS LIAISONS
Sarah Mayberry
TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON
AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG
STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID
PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sarah Mayberry has moved eight times in the past five years and is currently living in New Zealand—
although that may change at the drop of a hat. When she’s not moving house or writing, she loves to read,
go to the movies, buy shoes and travel (mostly to find more shoe shops). She has been happily partnered to
her man for over fifteen years, and plans to make it many more.
Books by Sarah Mayberry
HARLEQUIN BLAZE
211—CAN’T GET ENOUGH
251—CRUISE CONTROL*
278—ANYTHING FOR YOU*
314—TAKE ON ME**
320—ALL OVER YOU**
326—HOT FOR HIM**
380—BURNING UP
404—BELOW THE BELT
Bless you, Chris, for your enormous sympathy
and patience with me as I grieved, anguished and
swore over this book. I love you very much.
To Wanda, for being so calm and supportive
and damned smart as always—every time you
make me lift my game, and this time you had
your work cut out for you.
And to my friends and family who all made
sympathetic noises and passed the chocolate at
the right times. Where would I be without you?
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
1
MADDY GREEN was finding it hard to breathe. She lengthened her stride,
eager to reach the rehearsal studio. She could almost feel the familiar
smoothness of the barre beneath her hand and almost see the glint of bright lights
in the mirrors and hear the regular scuff and thump of other dancers leaping and
landing and twisting and turning around her.
She needed the comfort of the familiar very badly right now.
The double doors to the Sydney Dance Company’s rehearsal studio A came
up on her left. She pushed through them and the scent of warm bodies, clean
sweat and a dozen different deodorants and perfumes and aftershaves wrapped
itself around her.
Home. She was home.
“Maddy! How did your doctor’s appointment go?” Kendra asked the
moment she spotted Maddy.
The other dancers turned toward her, faces expectant. Maddy forced herself
to smile and shrug casually.
“It’s all good,” she said. “No problems.”
She couldn’t bring herself to say the other thing. Saying it out loud would
make it real. And for just a few more minutes, she wanted to lose herself in the
world that had held her enthralled since, at the age of four, she first saw a picture
of a ballerina.
Kendra flew across the room to give her a hug, her slender arms strong
around Maddy’s back.
“Fantastic. Great news. The best,” she said.
The other woman’s gauzy rehearsal skirt flared around her legs as she
returned to her place in the center of the room. Kendra was only twenty-two. She
had her whole career ahead of her. She was a beautiful dancer—powerful,
delicate, emotional, intense. She would soar.
Maddy felt someone watching her and lifted her gaze to find Stephen Jones,
the choreographer, eyeing her closely.
She turned her shoulder, breaking the contact. Stephen had been watching
her a lot lately, checking her range of movement, testing the capabilities of her
