Liam's Secret Son

Home > Romance > Liam's Secret Son > Page 3
Liam's Secret Son Page 3

by Carole Mortimer

‘Which just bears out my earlier statement about people acquiring differing impressions. Of the past or anything else,’ she said briskly. ‘I remember myself as a rather stupid twenty-one-year-old, totally infatuated with a world-famous author—an author who probably found me a complete pain in the—’

  ‘Now you’re being unkind again, Laura,’ Liam cut in. ‘To yourself, I mean.’

  ‘No, just realistic,’ she drawled. ‘No wonder you couldn’t wait to get away—from me as well as England!’

  ‘It wasn’t like that—’

  ‘It was exactly like that, Liam,’ she assured him laughingly. ‘I must have been such a nuisance, following you around all those months like some faithful little lap-dog, hanging on your every word, there every time you turned around—’

  ‘I said it wasn’t like that, Laura,’ he told her angrily. ‘The fact that you remember it as such is a good enough reason for us to meet up for that drink!’

  ‘You’re very persistent, Liam,’ she said wearily. ‘Or is it just a question of my being something of a challenge now that I’m obviously not as malleable as I used to be?’

  ‘I never thought of you as malleable!’ he barked.

  She sighed, wondering exactly what she should do for the best.

  As Laura, there was no doubt in her mind that she didn’t want to meet Liam; she still remembered all too vividly the pain she had felt after knowing him in the past. But as the owner of Shipley Publishing she knew that at some stage in the negotiations she was going to have to deal with him. Perhaps it was better to get any personal awkwardness between them out of the way before that became necessary? Although that didn’t include, at this stage, telling him that she was now Laura Shipley…

  ‘Or perhaps it’s just that you think your husband might object to your meeting me for a drink?’ Liam put in softly.

  Laura stiffened resentfully. ‘Let’s leave my husband out of this,’ she retorted. Robert, and her marriage to him, were not things she ever intended to talk about to Liam. They might have a business relationship ahead of them, but that certainly didn’t involve confidences about her personal life.

  ‘Gladly,’ Liam returned shortly. ‘So what’s it to be, Laura? Meet me for a drink tonight? Or I come looking for you tomorrow?’

  ‘That sounds decidedly like a threat, Liam.’ It didn’t just sound like a threat—it was one!

  ‘If that’s the way you care to take it,’ he conceded with exasperation.

  ‘I think I should warn you—I don’t respond too well to threats,’ she told him stiffly.

  ‘Then don’t take it as one,’ he replied impatiently. ‘My goodness, Laura, you didn’t used to be this difficult!’

  She had used not to be a lot of things. But it was those changes, in herself as well as her life, that now gave her the inner strength and security to accept his invitation. Liam couldn’t touch her emotionally. Not any more.

  ‘Okay, Liam, I’ll meet you for that drink,’ she accepted graciously.

  ‘Why ever couldn’t you have just agreed to do that ten minutes ago?’ he demanded.

  ‘I didn’t want to make it that easy for you,’ she told him with blunt honesty.

  He sighed. ‘I would take a guess that you don’t intend making anything easy for me!’

  She laughed softly. ‘You would guess correctly. Give me forty minutes or so to dress and get over to you,’ she continued briskly, throwing back the satin sheets to get out of bed.

  ‘I’ll have the champagne waiting on ice for you,’ he came back huskily.

  Laura stiffened. ‘Let me make it clear from the onset, Liam—we do not have anything to celebrate,’ she told him flatly.

  ‘Maybe you don’t—but I do.’ He sounded completely unperturbed by her outburst. ‘I’ll tell you about it when you get here,’ he promised.

  Laura dressed, frowning at her reflection in the mirror as she put on her make-up. Exactly what did Liam have to celebrate? What did he intend telling her about when she got to the hotel? She couldn’t believe, after the secrecy he had maintained concerning his manuscript, Josie’s World, that he intended telling her about that.

  And if he did how she would actually respond?

  In the circumstances, how could she respond…?

  CHAPTER THREE

  A QUICK look around the bar and lounge area on her arrival at the hotel a short time later showed her that Liam wasn’t in any of them. Which could mean only one thing…

  Laura marched determinedly over to the reception desk, her eyes, with their different colours, sparkling angrily. ‘Could you call Mr O’Reilly’s suite, please, and tell him that Laura is waiting for him downstairs?’

  ‘Certainly, madam.’ The receptionist smiled at her before doing exactly that, putting her hand over the receiver after a minute or so’s conversation with Liam. ‘Mr O’Reilly would like you to join him in his suite on the third floor—’

  ‘Could you tell Mr O’Reilly that I am waiting for him downstairs in Reception—with or without the champagne!’ Laura was so angry her voice shook slightly, and her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

  How dared he? How dared he assume she would go up to his suite for the agreed drink? Exactly who did he think he was? More to the point, what did he think she was?

  The receptionist related the message, ending the call a few seconds later before smiling at Laura with vacuous politeness. ‘Mr O’Reilly says he will join you here in a few minutes.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Laura accepted stiffly, before marching over to sit in one of the sumptuous armchairs that filled the reception area, glaring across at the four lifts as she waited for Liam to appear from one of them, not even sure now that she was going to stay for the proposed drink!

  She sat and fumed as she waited. Liam had a nerve, just assuming— The arrogance of him! The absolute, unmitigating gall of the man!

  ‘I would tell you how beautiful you look when you’re angry,’ an amused voice remarked behind her, very close to her ear, ‘but I very much doubt, in your present frame of mind, that you would appreciate the hackneyed compliment!’

  Laura, having spun round angrily at the first sound of Liam’s voice, found herself with her face only inches away from his own.

  For the second time today, exactly where had he come from?

  She had seated herself facing towards the lifts this time, and still she had missed his arrival. The man was more elusive than a taxi in the theatre district of London on a Saturday evening!

  ‘I walked down,’ he drawled as he seemed to guess some of her thoughts.

  ‘Three floors?’ she gasped disbelievingly. The Liam she’d used to know had sometimes found walking from the bedroom to the kitchen too much effort!

  He grinned at her obvious scepticism. ‘I’ve taken up hiking in the countryside since I moved back to Ireland.’ His expression darkened. ‘For a while it became my salvation!’

  ‘How nice,’ Laura returned insincerely, not wanting to hear the reasons why he had needed salvation. ‘You decided not to bring down the champagne, I see.’ She looked pointedly at his empty hands.

  ‘It’s waiting for us in the bar.’ He gave a sweep of his hand in that direction.

  Meaning what? Laura wondered as she stood up. That he had intended the two of them drinking in the bar the whole time? Or that he had made a hasty call down to the barman and asked him to put a second bottle of champagne on ice? Somehow Laura had an idea it was the second option!

  ‘You think too much,’ Liam teased, moving to lightly clasp her arm as they strolled through to the bar. ‘You also look gorgeous,’ he added admiringly.

  She frowned at the compliment. She had dressed in black trousers and a fitted black leather shirt deliberately, considering them to be smart but unalluring. The last thing she wanted was for Liam to think she was out to appear attractive to him. She had obviously failed!

  Laura studied him as they sipped the champagne that had been poured for them, having unemotionally noted the female intere
st engendered in the bar by his dark Irish good looks. Some things never changed, she acknowledged dryly; Liam always had been able to attract every woman within a ten-yard-radius, no matter what her age!

  ‘So, Laura.’ Liam looked across at her with laughing blue eyes. ‘What’s your conclusion?’

  She inwardly stiffened at his perception, while outwardly giving every impression she was completely relaxed sitting in the armchair placed next to his. ‘Concerning what?’ She was deliberately unhelpful.

  ‘Concerning any physical changes you might see in me after all these years,’ he drawled unconcernedly.

  Unconcernedly, Laura guessed, because he knew that none of those changes had detracted from his rugged good looks.

  She shrugged. ‘We’re both eight years older, Liam.’

  He chuckled softly. ‘Very tactfully said, Laura—but in no way does it answer my question.’

  She raised dark brows. ‘Because, quite honestly, I don’t see the point in the question, let alone the answer,’ she replied tersely.

  Blue eyes narrowed speculatively. ‘What’s he like?’ he murmured slowly.

  It took all of her inner control to maintain her composure. ‘Who?’ she finally asked stiffly.

  ‘The man you married.’

  Her gaze was cool now. ‘Robert’s the most kind, wonderful, considerate person I have ever known,’ she answered without hesitation.

  Liam looked less than pleased by her reply, scowling darkly. ‘But what’s he like in bed?’ he probed.

  Laura, in the process of sipping her champagne, almost choked over the bubbly liquid, glaring at him with icy eyes. ‘How dare you?’ she gasped once she could catch her breath, her hand shaking slightly as she slammed her champagne glass down on the table that stood in front of them. ‘Just who do you think you are? You have absolutely no right—’

  ‘That bad, hmm?’ Liam put in consideringly, still studying her with narrowed eyes.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ She glared at him, two bright red spots of angry colour in her cheeks.

  ‘Too defensive, Laura. Too outraged. Just too everything, really,’ he taunted. ‘The next thing you’re going to tell me is that the kindness, consideration and being wonderful far outweigh the fact that he doesn’t satisfy you in bed.’ He quirked mocking brows.

  ‘You’re completely wrong there, Liam,’ she replied scathingly, bending to pick up her clutch bag. ‘Because I have nothing further to say to you—about Robert or anything else!’ She stood up, looking down at him contemptuously. ‘You have changed in the last eight years, Liam—and certainly not for the better!’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake sit down, Laura,’ he said wearily. ‘Okay, I was out of order making those remarks about your husband.’ Even if they are true, his tone implied. ‘I apologise, okay?’ he prompted irritably as she still glared down at him.

  ‘No, it’s not okay,’ she told him from between stiff lips, completely unyielding.

  He sat forward, reaching out to clasp one of her hands in his. ‘Did it ever occur to you that I might be feeling a little jealous?’ he asked. ‘After all, you used to think I was wonderful,’ he added self-derisively.

  She gave a scornful laugh. ‘That was before I grew up enough to be able to pick the gold from the dross!’

  Before he released her, Liam’s fingers tightened briefly about hers—the only outward sign he gave that he was angered by her deliberate insult.

  And it had been deliberate, she inwardly acknowledged, provoked by his insulting remarks about Robert. She wouldn’t allow anyone to do that. Robert had been her salvation in a time of deep crisis.

  She had also been thrown a little by Liam’s suggestion that he might actually be jealous of her feelings for Robert. Until she’d realised Liam might just feel put out, the feelings of adoration she had once had for him having now passed on to Robert!

  For a moment, a very brief moment, she had actually thought she might have been mistaken about how unfeeling he had been in the past. She obviously wasn’t; Liam’s feelings of jealousy were just as selfish as all his other emotions had always been!

  She gave a humourless smile. ‘I did try to warn you that this was a mistake, Liam,’ she said. ‘We have nothing in common now—if we ever did. Old friends meeting in this way—’

  ‘Old lovers!’ he corrected harshly, blue eyes alight with emotion. ‘Don’t try to totally negate our past together, Laura.’

  She felt frozen to the spot, actually able to feel the colour drain from her cheeks. Negate their past? She would like to wipe it from her memory bank altogether!

  Lovers… Yes, they had been lovers. But she had been determined, these last eight years, never to think of that again. She didn’t want to think about it!

  ‘Please sit down, Laura,’ Liam encouraged quietly. ‘I promise I’ll try not to be insulting again.’

  ‘You’ll try, Liam?’ she repeated dryly, giving a shake of her head at his arrogance. ‘You’ll have to do better than that if you expect me to stay!’

  He gave a rueful smile. ‘You have to accept sometimes I can be insulting without meaning to be.’

  Laura gave a pained wince. ‘And that’s the best excuse you can give for some of the things you’ve already said to me?’

  ‘Without actually lying—yes!’

  She sat down abruptly. ‘You really are the most arrogant man I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet!’

  He grinned, leaning forward to replenish their champagne glasses. ‘Well, at least I have that distinction—the most arrogant man you’ve ever met.’

  ‘Arrogance is not a virtue, Liam.’

  ‘I’ll try to remember that,’ he said wryly. ‘Now, let’s drink a toast…’ He held her full glass of champagne out to her before picking up his own glass.

  He had hinted on the telephone that he had something to celebrate, and Laura had wondered if he might mean the prospect of publication for his new book. If it should turn out that was what it was, what was she going to do? To carry on pleading ignorance would be deceptive in the extreme. But to tell him the truth, after his bluntness already this evening, would be even more unacceptable…

  She swallowed hard. ‘A toast to what?’

  ‘Old lovers and new friends?’ he suggested.

  She gave the ghost of a smile, relieved the toast hadn’t been what she had expected—although the alternative hadn’t been much better! ‘The first I choose to forget—the second isn’t very likely,’ she told him honestly.

  ‘Let’s drink to us anyway,’ he encouraged huskily.

  ‘To ‘us’…?

  ‘Did you tell him about us?’ Liam asked slowly, once the toast had been drunk.

  She stiffened. ‘Robert, you mean?’ she said delaying.

  ‘Of course I mean Robert,’ he confirmed laughingly. ‘Unless you’ve had any other husbands the last eight years? Just out of interest,’ he continued lightly, ‘how long ago did you marry him?’

  ‘Robert and I were married seven and a half years ago,’ she answered flatly.

  ‘No time for any other husbands.’ Liam answered his own question. ‘And only a few months after I left for California,’ he added pointedly.

  ‘Nowhere near as hasty as your own marriage,’ Laura returned harshly. ‘You had barely arrived on the tarmac at Los Angeles airport before your own engagement, and subsequent marriage took place!’

  She could still remember her feelings of absolute desolation when she had seen the speculation in the newspapers concerning his relationship with Diana Porter. That desolation had been complete when the photographs of his wedding had appeared a few weeks later. If it hadn’t been for Robert—

  ‘It looks as if neither of us were too heartbroken at our separation,’ Liam acknowledged. ‘I suppose your beloved uncle approves of Robert too?’

  Laura’s movements were deliberate and calm as she placed her champagne glass back down on the low table in front of her. They had to be; her hand was shaking so much she was
in danger of spilling the bubbly wine.

  Her parents had been killed in a car crash when she was only sixteen, leaving her without any close family to speak of. It had been left to her godfather, her honorary ‘uncle’ and guardian, also the executor of her parents’ will, to organise the continued payment of her boarding-school fees, so enabling her to stay on at school and sit her ‘A’ levels before going on to university.

  Obviously when she’d met Liam, eight and a half a years ago she had told him about her beloved godfather in the course of their own relationship. But the two men had never met.

  Obviously her godfather had expressed curiosity about this worldly-wise man in her life, and she had suggested to Liam several times that perhaps the two men should meet. It had been a suggestion he had chosen to ignore.

  And the reason for his reticence had become obvious once he had gone to America and married someone else within a few months: the complication of meeting the guardian of the young student whom he had only been casually involved with for six months previously had not entered into any of his plans! That would have made everything just a little too serious—and Liam hadn’t ever had any serious intentions where Laura was concerned!

  She looked at him coldly now. ‘I don’t happen to think of any of this—any part of my life now, in fact—is your business, Liam,’ she told him icily. ‘Just as I have no interest in your personal life now,’ she concluded contemptuously.

  Liam looked completely unperturbed by her coldness. ‘How about my professional one?’ he teased. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know what—?’

  ‘No!’ she sharply cut him off before he could say something that might put her in a compromising position. Telling her that Shipley Publishing was interested in publishing his latest novel would certainly do that! ‘No, Liam, I don’t want to know anything about your professional life either.’ She spoke more calmly. ‘In fact—’ she gave a glance at her wristwatch ‘—I really should be going now.’

  ‘Cinderella turns into a pumpkin at the stroke of eleven?’ Liam suggested.

  She smiled, shaking her head. ‘You obviously don’t know your fairy-tales very well, Liam. Cinderella turned back into a ragged drudge. But not until midnight.’

 

‹ Prev