Don't Let Me Forget

by Belinda Williams

  Don’t Let Me Forget

  Belinda Williams

  romance.com.au/escapepublishing/

  Don’t Let Me Forget

  Belinda Williams

  Would you remember the face of a killer?

  After divorcing the heir to a media fortune, Juliet Temple chose to keep her high-profile surname to grow her elite event planning business. But when a young woman is found dead and Juliet is drugged at her latest celebrity party, not even the Temple name can protect her. Unable to remember what happened that night, Juliet finds herself in serious danger.

  Juliet retreats to the Hunter Valley, where she becomes Jet Appleton, Rhodes Family Estate's wedding organiser. Martin Rhodes, winemaker and former detective, is tasked with watching over her, but his son, Dan, knows nothing of Jet's true identity—which is a problem because he's the sort of man who deserves her honesty.

  As the dark ties holding her to Sydney close in, Jet begins to see her old life—including her controlling ex-husband—in a whole new light. Jet's longing to return to Sydney is proving to be a dangerous desire, and so are her growing feelings for Dan. But not as dangerous as the killer, who is still watching her every move …

  About the author

  BELINDA WILLIAMS is a marketing copywriter who allowed an addiction to romance to get the better of her. She writes contemporary romance including romantic comedy and romantic suspense featuring good guys. She’s occasionally tempted by bad boys, but prefers to write strong women characters and men with big hearts.

  Her other addictions include music and cars. She’s a music lover who sings lead vocals in a covers band and her eclectic taste forms the foundation for many of her writing ideas. She also has a healthy appreciation for fast cars and would not so secretly love a Lamborghini. For now she settles for her son’s Hot Wheels collection.

  When she’s not obsessing over word count, she can be found counting laps at her local swimming pool or taking on yet another renovation project in her Sydney home, where she lives with her husband and son.

  belindawilliamsbooks.com

  For Adam, my real-life good guy

  Contents

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter One

  The birthday celebration was a sight to behold.

  Hundreds of people milled around perfectly manicured gardens bathed in twilight and the glow of strategically placed fairy lights. The attendees were made up of the guest of honour’s family, friends and a generous sprinkling of Sydney’s celebrity who’s who. The party was reminiscent of the 1940s and had a distinctly stylish retro feel. Guests had indulged and embraced the spirit of the event, with women showing off elaborate up-dos and glittering ball gowns while they stood chatting and drinking French Champagne on the lawn.

  A jazz band was positioned at the edge of the extensive grassed area on a stage that had been brought in especially for the event. Dressed in black suits and matching black hats, the band pumped out popular favourites with smooth sophistication.

  It was respectability mixed with style, and it was one of Juliet Temple’s best events to date.

  ‘Great party.’

  Discreetly, Juliet surveyed the party’s host, Alex Benedetti. ‘I’m pleased you’re enjoying it.’

  ‘I’d enjoy it more if you’d stop working so hard. Come and have a drink with us.’

  Juliet attempted a bright smile. ‘That’s not what you’re paying me for.’

  Alex regarded her openly and Juliet did her best to maintain the smile. What the papers said was true. He was exceptionally good-looking. Blessed with dark Mediterranean features, Alex Benedetti was more attractive in person than he was in the paparazzi photos. His olive skin and mischievous brown eyes framed by impossibly long lashes meant women had been throwing themselves at him all night. Except for Juliet. From behind her smile, she watched those dark eyes warily, an unconscious awareness urging her to be careful.

  ‘You mean I have to pay you to come and have a drink with me?’ he asked.

  Juliet flushed at the innuendo. Or at the insult. She wasn’t sure which. ‘Of course not. I was just pointing out that I’m here to do a job.’

  ‘You British. Far too restrained.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Juliet supposed she was more restrained than the females she had noticed lavishing him with attention throughout the night.

  ‘Or Andrew was right. You work too hard.’

  At the mention of her ex-husband’s name, Juliet’s smile dimmed. ‘He knows me well.’

  ‘Yeah, well, he didn’t know how to hold on to you, so I’m guessing he didn’t know you well enough.’

  He was more accurate than she cared to admit, but Juliet didn’t allow it to show and held Alex’s gaze firmly. ‘He knew me well enough to know I was the only one who could pull off this party for you.’

  Alex’s eyebrows lifted, surprised by her confidence. ‘That’s true. And it’s one hell of a party.’

  Juliet quickly scanned the carefully constructed party like a watchful conductor.

  The son of the veteran actor Mario Benedetti, Alex’s thirtieth birthday celebration was befitting of television royalty. His father had spent his career starring in some of Australia’s best-known television series. Now Alex was following in his footsteps, but going a step further, with his sights set on Hollywood.

  ‘I should let you get back to your celebrations,’ Juliet replied smoothly after a moment.

  Alex looked as though he was about to disagree, but flashed her a confident smile instead. ‘You’re not off the hook, Juliet Temple. Before the night is out, I’ll get my drink,’ he promised.

  Juliet watched Alex rejoin the crowd of black tuxedos and evening dresses. Accepting a glass of wine from a nearby waiter, he effortlessly immersed himself in the conversation of his chosen group.

  Juliet shook her head and turned to make her way back to the kitchen, the looming grey of the stark minimalist house towering over her. The building appeared to swallow her whole as she stepped through the cavernous floor-to-ceiling doors that had been opened fully for the event.

  When Juliet had recommended the party be held at the family’s exclusive Vaucluse property, Alex had been hesitant. A party boy, he’d envisaged a big event in the
city. If he’d had his way, they would have hired a seedy club, but Juliet was under strict instructions from Alex’s father to keep the event respectable. Respectable and Alex didn’t necessarily mix. Fortunately, Juliet wasn’t easily defeated.

  ‘Andrew can’t keep his eyes off you.’

  Juliet paused in the doorway to the kitchen. Her close friend, Edie, sat perched on the edge of the counter, champagne glass poised in one delicate hand and a canapé in the other.

  Juliet shrugged and joined her in the kitchen. ‘He always had wandering eyes.’

  Edie set down the glass and gave Juliet a pointed look. ‘Lately they’ve been wandering in your direction an awful lot.’

  Juliet didn’t have time to worry about the unwanted attention of her ex-husband. She rolled her eyes at Edie and decided to change the subject. ‘Why aren’t you outside mingling?’

  ‘I got bored. Besides, everyone knows the help are privy to the latest gossip.’

  This time it was Juliet’s turn to give her friend the pointed look. ‘Honestly, Edie. Have you been harassing the staff?’

  Edie had the graciousness to look guilty.

  Juliet turned to the team of waiters, waitresses and catering staff busily going about their work. She met the head caterer, Vanessa’s, eyes. ‘She hasn’t been annoying you, has she?’

  Vanessa grinned. ‘Not at all. But I think she’s got it the wrong way around. We’re the ones benefiting from Edie’s impressive knowledge of the guests.’

  Juliet gave Vanessa an apologetic smile and turned back to her friend. ‘You’re in the way in here. Go outside.’

  Edie pouted, and Juliet shook her head once more at her friend. At just over five foot, Edith Thomas was a force to be reckoned with. Her blood red, fitted dress clung to her petite frame and her sleek black bob appeared even glossier and more perfect than usual.

  ‘I saw you talking to Alex out there,’ she said, ignoring Juliet’s instruction. ‘What was that about?’

  ‘He wanted me to have a drink.’

  Edie’s blue eyes sparked with interest. ‘With him?’

  ‘I reminded him I was here to work.’

  ‘He didn’t look convinced,’ Edie observed.

  ‘Rich, attractive men never are,’ Juliet replied darkly.

  ‘You’re such a workaholic.’

  ‘My work is one of the few things I can rely on,’ Juliet told her friend.

  Edie frowned. ‘And me.’

  ‘And you,’ Juliet agreed. She moved to Edie’s side and gently took her by the arm, easing her off the counter. ‘Come on. Don’t waste the night being in here with me. There’s more interesting people outside.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ The sympathetic tone in Edie’s voice was enough to remind Juliet that her friend was less interested in gossip and more worried about looking out for her.

  ‘I’m fine. Really. Now go.’

  ‘I’ll be back to check on you later,’ Edie promised, and gave Juliet one last concerned look before leaving the kitchen.

  Juliet sighed and turned back to the staff, determined to focus on the task at hand. It would be all too easy to be distracted by the host’s worrying level of attention, or the fact that her ex-husband was among the guests. Not that it was any surprise. Andrew Temple was the son of a media mogul and destined to inherit his father’s empire.

  An empire she would have been part of if they hadn’t divorced. Instead, she’d spent the last two years attempting to put the past behind her and working hard to build a name for her exclusive event management business. For the most part she’d been extremely successful. Her company now catered to an enviable selection of Sydney’s rich and famous, and even a politician or two.

  Juliet grabbed an empty glass and filled it with water. She finished it in one long gulp. She felt unreasonably hot in the dress she was wearing, and cast a glance down at the ankle-length gown. It was absolutely beautiful and she had Edie to thank.

  A well-known soap opera star, Edie had connections in the industry that extended to fashion designers. As well as the considerable perks, Juliet often wondered if Edie’s full-time job should be a professional social butterfly rather than an actress.

  The luminescent gold silk fabric clung to Juliet’s tall, athletic frame, and the strapless neckline accentuated her toned shoulders and tanned skin. It was absolutely ridiculous the dress was considered working attire, but when catering to some of Sydney’s elite, she was expected to look the part.

  She set the glass down and wished, belatedly, that she’d taken the time to have her hair done in an up-do. Instead, she’d been too busy organising last-minute details and barely had time to throw the gown on. Now her light brown hair fell in loose waves past her shoulders and she was feeling overheated.

  Resigned, Juliet did her best to ignore the sweat she could feel forming between her shoulder blades and breasts. She spent the next ten minutes checking in with the catering crew and making sure everything was keeping to the agreed schedule. Satisfied the night was going exactly as planned, she headed back outside to keep an eye on how the waitstaff were doing.

  With a small glass of French Champagne in hand, she positioned herself on the balcony overlooking the grounds, behind a row of hedges. To the guests, she’d appear to be just another partygoer.

  ‘You didn’t take Alex up on his offer of a drink, I see.’

  Juliet turned slowly at the familiar deep bass of her ex-husband. ‘Hello Andrew.’

  ‘Juliet.’ He closed the distance between them, his hand finding the small of her back far too readily while he brushed her cheek with a kiss.

  ‘I reminded him I was here to work,’ she repeated for the second time that night, instinctively stepping away after the kiss.

  Andrew’s green eyes watched her retreat. ‘I’d already warned him of your single-mindedness when it comes to your work.’

  ‘That was very generous of you.’

  ‘Just like it was generous of me to recommend you manage this event?’

  Juliet resisted frowning at her ex-husband. He’d always had a way of turning the conversation around on her. ‘Of which I’m very grateful.’

  ‘You’ve done an amazing job.’

  And just like that, things between them were amicable again.

  Andrew turned to stare across the Benedetti grounds, watching the people below. Juliet glanced sideways in his direction. She’d always found him an imposing man—that had been part of the attraction. Well over six foot, his dark hair was cropped short and his strong, somewhat harsh features, regarded the crowd. His dinner jacket served only to highlight his strength, rather than to diminish it. It would be easy to confuse him for a well-dressed security guard instead of an heir to a media fortune.

  Andrew turned to Juliet again. ‘I would suggest you avoid Alex as the night wears on. The word is he doesn’t tolerate his alcohol well.’

  ‘You don’t need to watch out for me.’

  ‘I’m watching out for me too, remember. We may be divorced but you’re still associated with the Temple name.’

  And there it was, Juliet thought. His true colours. ‘Don’t worry, darling,’ she replied, her British accent suddenly more pronounced. ‘I won’t do anything to taint the Temple name.’

  Andrew grinned and his eyes narrowed. ‘Nothing I wouldn’t do, you mean?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  Juliet shoved past him and headed back towards the kitchen, in a silent, but restrained, rage. He’d always been able to do that to her. And openly highlighting his infidelity during their brief marriage didn’t help.

  It would always be like this, she knew. Until she stepped away from his world, and dropped the Temple name, she would be bound to him. No amount of time, or hard work on her part, was going to change that.

  The decision to name her event management company, Temple Events, was something she regretted almost as much as marrying Andrew. Almost. She wasn’t naive and understood the name had opened numerous doors for her. By the time they di
vorced, the company was established and the name had stuck.

  As Juliet Temple, she was among Sydney’s elite; a successful businesswoman and well-known name.

  The only problem was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be Juliet Temple anymore.

  Chapter Two

  Juliet set her drink down and listened to the sound of the pounding bass. It matched the beat in her head. It was nearing three in the morning and she’d been working since the previous morning. Nine hours of that time had been in stilettos. God, she loved this job.

  Sarcasm aside, she did enjoy it. The party had been a success. There would be images from the night in tomorrow’s newspapers and in the latest tabloids, further skyrocketing Alex’s playboy reputation in the media—and hopefully her prowess as an elite event organiser.

  Juliet surveyed the expansive foyer area. She’d just watched the last of the evening’s guests depart. She glanced at the empty glass. She shouldn’t have drunk it. She’d already had one earlier and she’d barely eaten all night. It had seemed poor manners, though, when one of the waiters had brought her the drink and gestured to Alex at the far side of the garden.

  ‘Compliments of the host,’ the waiter had explained.

  Under the watchful eyes of Alex, she’d raised the glass in his direction. He’d smiled and nodded. If it meant she could skip sharing a drink with him and avoid his playboy antics, she’d drink the whole thing.

  In the entrance foyer, Juliet picked up the glass. She turned towards the stairwell and the direction of the music. Her toes pinched painfully in her shoes as she made her way down the stairs. She would leave the glass in the kitchen and farewell the last of the catering and waitstaff, then head straight home to bed.

  Five minutes later when she was done, Juliet paused at the bottom of the elaborate marble stairwell. She caught her reflection in a giant gilded mirror positioned above an intricate wooden hall table. Juliet frowned. Her eyes looked tired, which was to be expected. She stepped closer, her frown deepening. Her eyes were bloodshot. Definitely time to call it a night.