She looked up accusingly at Liam. ‘Your little friend was very busy yesterday afternoon! Did you know about this photograph being taken?’ she accused.
‘Certainly not,’ he replied in a voice that brooked no arguments on that score. ‘But, damning as the photograph is, I think you should read the article that goes with it before making further comment,’ he suggested.
Laura shot him another narrow-eyed glance before turning her attention to the newspaper article, the colour slowly leaving her cheeks as she read.
Mrs. Laura Shipley, head of Shipley Publishing, preferred to make no comment on the suggestion that she would shortly be publishing a new, long-awaited novel by Liam O’Reilly. But the couple, photographed together yesterday afternoon, certainly seem to have a close relationship. Perhaps it could soon be wedding bells for the widow of the late Robert Shipley, mother of the Shipley heir, Robert Shipley Junior, and the world-famous Irish author, Liam O’Reilly…?
Laura felt sick, her hands shaking so badly she had to put the newspaper down on the coffee table. Where had Janey Wilson got all that information? More to the point, look what she had done with it. This was worse, so much worse, than she could ever have imagined.
She swallowed down her nausea, half afraid to raise her head and look at Liam. So much for her not wanting Liam to even know she had a son!
‘I’m sorry, Laura.’ Liam was the one to finally speak.
‘You’re sorry?’ she flashed, looking up to glare at him. ‘How do you think I feel?’
Liam winced at the unmistakable anger in her voice. ‘I had no idea Janey intended printing something like that.’ He looked disgustedly towards the open newspaper.
‘She may be the sister of an old university friend, Liam,’ Laura told him sternly, ‘but she is obviously first and foremost a reporter!’
Anger was a much easier option than the tears she really felt like shedding. Tears of sheer frustration. How dared that woman print those private details about her life?
‘Obviously.’ Liam sighed. ‘I—’ He broke off as Amy arrived with the tray of coffee. ‘Laura might need a brandy to go with that?’ He looked at her enquiringly.
‘At nine-thirty in the morning? No, thank you,’ Laura refused. ‘Thank you, Amy.’ Her voice softened as she spoke to her housekeeper before Amy returned to the kitchen.
‘Shall I pour?’ Liam offered as Laura made no effort to do so.
‘Go ahead,’ Laura invited uncaringly, pacing the room as her thoughts raced.
There was no way Liam could have overlooked that mention of Bobby in the last sentence of the newspaper article. Not that it really told him anything except that she had a son, but she would have preferred that he didn’t even know that much!
And as for that reference to wedding bells for Liam and herself—!
No wonder celebrities got so angry at some of the things the press wrote about them. She and Liam had only been drinking coffee together, and yet Janey Wilson’s article implied so much more.
‘Here.’ Liam put a cup of coffee into her hand now. ‘I know you don’t take sugar, but I’ve put some in anyway. I think you need the energy boost.’
So he remembered how she took her coffee too. Strange, it afforded Laura no satisfaction that he had shown his own remembrance of their past relationship.
The sweetened coffee tasted awful, but Liam had been right about the energy boost making her feel slightly better. She now felt she had enough strength to administer the slap on the face he deserved!
‘Uh-oh.’ Liam eyed her warily over the rim of his own coffee cup as he pretended to back away. ‘Perhaps I put a little too much sugar in your coffee; I certainly recognise that light of battle in your beautiful eyes!’
Laura couldn’t help it—she laughed. He really was the most irritating, arrogant, attractive man she had ever met in her life. His blue eyes had darkened teasingly; the hard strength of his face had softened in amusement. Even if she had no intention of being affected by that attraction!
‘This isn’t funny, Liam,’ she rebuked. Although even to her own ears she sounded less than convincing.
‘No, it isn’t,’ he agreed heavily. ‘I’ve already spoken to Janey, told her exactly what I think of her half-truths and innuendos—’
‘For all the good it will have done you.’ Laura sighed. ‘She’ll probably print another story tomorrow along the lines of you doth protest to much!’
Liam scowled. ‘I think I’ve made it more than clear to Janey that if she prints another word about the two of us I’ll personally wring her neck for her!’
Laura grimaced. ‘I don’t think silencing Janey Wilson will have achieved much.’ She glanced pointedly towards the front of the house, where the reporters were still gathered. ‘I believe they already have several photographs of you arriving at my home to spice up another article for tomorrow’s newspapers!’
‘I really had no idea this would develop into such a circus.’ He shook his head disgustedly.
‘The press are even more vociferous now than they were eight years ago,’ she opined.
‘Obviously, if even a friend like Janey can make something out of nothing,’ Liam replied.
Laura gave the ghost of a smile, nodding ruefully. ‘Perhaps you should have told her she’s eight years out of date where we’re concerned.’
As soon as she had made the remark she wished she could take the words back. The atmosphere had suddenly changed between them, charged with an awareness now that hadn’t been there before. An awareness of each other, of what they had once been to each other…
Liam put down his empty cup, taking a step towards her. ‘Is she?’ he said as he stood only inches away from Laura. ‘I’m not so sure about that,’ he said softly, one of his hands reaching up to cup the side of her face. ‘You’re more beautiful than ever, Laura,’ he groaned.
She was barely breathing, her gaze locked with Liam’s. The ticking of the clock that stood above the fireplace suddenly seemed very loud and intrusive. Her heart, she knew, was beating a much quicker pattern.
She shook her head. ‘I don’t think this is a good idea, Liam,’ she murmured throatily.
‘You’re not a child any longer, Laura—’
‘I never was a child where you were concerned,’ she protested.
‘Oh, yes, you were.’ His gaze moved slowly over the perfection of her face, the darkness of her hair, before returning to the softness of her mouth. ‘But you’re a woman now, Laura. A mother, too,’ he added gruffly, looking down at her with gentle enquiry. ‘I knew there was something different about you when we met again, something that couldn’t just be attributed to eight years’ maturity. Obviously being a mother suits you.’
It didn’t suit her; it was what she was. It was all she really wanted to be, and Bobby was the centre of her life.
‘Why didn’t you tell me about your son, Laura?’ Liam prompted softly.
‘I didn’t want to bore you; you’ve made your views on children more than plain,’ she scorned to hide her rising panic. She did not want to discuss Bobby!
‘Only having any of my own,’ Liam refuted. ‘How old is Robert, Laura? Does he look like you?’
Her mouth had gone very dry, and the beating of her heart sounded louder than ever. She didn’t want to answer any of these questions. Wouldn’t answer them!
‘We call him Bobby. Robert was too confusing when it was his father’s name too,’ she responded.
Only to witness the tightening of Liam’s mouth, that nerve pulsing in his throat once again. Obviously he didn’t like this reference to Bobby’s father, Laura’s late husband.
But even though Robert hadn’t been Bobby’s biological father he had been in every other sense there was. Robert had been beside her during her pregnancy, with her during Bobby’s birth, and had involved himself totally in Bobby’s babyhood and infancy, often reaching the baby’s cotside quicker than Laura if Bobby had wakened in the night. Robert had been Bobby’s father!
&n
bsp; Laura moved determinedly away from Liam, turning as his hand fell back to his side. ‘I believe we have much more important things to discuss than my son.’ She felt an inward jolt at the possessiveness in her tone. But Bobby was her son, and with Robert gone she felt he was hers alone!
‘I would like to meet him,’ Liam suggested.
She turned to him sharply. ‘Why?’
‘Why not?’
Calm down, Laura, she told herself steadily, breathing deeply. ‘It’s been a difficult time for Bobby since his father died,’ she reasoned. ‘Losing a parent at such a young age has made him all the more attached to the one he has left; I don’t like to confuse him with transient friends.’ Even to her own ears that sounded like a deliberate slap in the face, and she could see by the tightening of Liam’s mouth and the narrowing of his eyes that he had recognised it as such.
His head went back challengingly. ‘Is that why you keep the man currently sharing your bed as a separate part of your life?’
A retaliatory slap! Probably deserved after her own remark, Laura accepted. But it wasn’t one she was going to give him the satisfaction of reacting to!
Her lips pursed. ‘Surely, Liam, that’s a contradiction in terms?’ she countered. ‘If this mythical man were sharing my bed, then I wouldn’t be able to keep him as a separate part of my life?’
His eyes had narrowed questioningly. ‘Mythical?’ he prompted softly.
She had fallen into his trap yet again! Trust Liam to pounce on the one word that was of any real interest to him!
She changed tack. ‘You’re the one who keeps insisting there has to be a man somewhere.’
‘Only because I don’t believe it’s a woman,’ Liam responded. ‘And you are far too beautiful to have been completely on your own the last two years. Unless those were the “transient friends” you were referring to earlier?’ he added derisively.
Oh, this man was so insulting! And under any other circumstances she would have told him exactly what he could do with his rude remarks. But here, in her home, with Bobby only feet away and likely to appear downstairs without warning, her one real wish was to have Liam leave as soon as possible.
‘I’m not even going to qualify that remark with an answer, Liam,’ she returned. ‘Now, if you’ve quite finished…? I have things to do today.’ Although none of them involved leaving the house; she had no intention of running the gauntlet where those hovering reporters were concerned!
Liam’s eyes were glacial. ‘Like explaining to the current man that this newspaper report is an exaggeration?’ he challenged.
Laura eyed him coolly. ‘I very rarely explain myself to anyone these days, Liam.’ And especially not him! ‘And that newspaper article isn’t an exaggeration; it’s an outright fabrication!’ she stated firmly.
‘It needn’t be,’ Liam told her gruffly, suddenly close to her once again.
Too close!
He shouldn’t be here in her home at all, let alone standing only inches away from her. She was actually able to feel the heat given off by his body.
A body she had once known more intimately than she knew her own…!
Where had that come from? She groaned inwardly. She didn’t want to remember the intimacies she had shared with Liam eight years ago!
Sometimes in the night, with sleep sweeping away her defences, those memories came back in her dreams, and the ecstasy she had once known in his arms was undeniable then. And when she woke in the morning, much as she hated herself for it, her body would still burn and ache from that remembered pleasure.
‘Laura…!’ Liam whispered now, his arms moving about the slenderness of her waist as he drew her close to him, his eyes searching on the flushed beauty of her face before his head lowered and his mouth took possession of hers.
Senses already heightened by those thoughts of the past, Laura was instantly swept away on a tide of pleasure, her body arching into the hardness of his, her lips opening as Liam deepened the kiss, his tongue moving searchingly.
They fitted together like two halves of a whole!
Laura’s height was no match for Liam’s six feet four inches, but the softness of her curves fitted into the muscular hollows of his body, her breasts against his chest, thighs pressed into the hardness of his.
And her body remembered, as she remembered, the pleasure of that hardness. She felt a warm rush between her thighs even as Liam continued to sip and taste her lips.
His hands moved restlessly across the slenderness of her back, fingers seeking the warm flesh beneath the green jumper, moving round to cup the softness of her breast against the silky material of her bra, the nipple instantly hard, throbbing hotly as a thumbtip gently caressed her.
Liam moaned low in his throat as his own body hardened in response, hands shaking slightly now as they tightened about the narrowness of her waist, pulling her even closer against him.
His lips left hers to trail over the creaminess of her cheek, before travelling down the column of her throat to the sensitive hollows below.
Laura was now feeling dizzy with desire. Her hands clung to the width of his shoulders to stop herself from falling. She was aware only of Liam and the moist caress of his lips, his teeth gently nibbling an earlobe, sending arrows of warm ecstasy to every part of her body.
‘Mummy? Mummy, where are you?’
The sound of Bobby’s voice calling out to Laura from the hallway had the same effect on her as having a bucket of ice-cold water thrown over her would have done!
She sprang guiltily away from Liam, the pleasure she had known in his arms only seconds earlier completely obliterated as she heard the soft pad of Bobby’s slipper-clad feet as he approached the sitting room.
Any second now, Liam and Bobby were going to come face to face with each other. And in her slightly befuddled state Laura couldn’t think of a single thing she could do or say to prevent it happening!
CHAPTER NINE
‘MUMMY!’ A relieved Bobby appeared in the doorway, obviously pleased to have found her at last, although his dark blue eyes instantly moved curiously to the man in the room with her.
‘Hello, darling.’ Laura smiled, moving to his side, totally ignoring Liam—and what had just occurred between the two of them!—as she bent down to give her son a hug. ‘Feeling better now?’ she prompted gently, looking at Bobby searchingly.
Apart from a little bump on his head, and a slightly sore knee, he didn’t seem to have suffered too much harm from his accident. His long night’s sleep had obviously refreshed him too; this morning there was colour back in the previous paleness of his cheeks, and his eyes were bright and alert.
Eyes that were fixed now on the man who stood in front of the window. Bobby’s expression was slightly shy as he looked at this stranger.
Laura drew in a deep breath before turning, her arm protectively about Bobby’s narrow shoulders as she held him to her side, her expression slightly challenging as she looked across at Liam. A Liam whose expression was totally unreadable as he looked not at her, but down at Bobby.
Laura tried to see the little boy through Liam’s eyes. Still dressed in his pyjamas, Bobby was tall for his age, with a thinness that resulted from an abundance of energy and not lack of food. His hair was dark and slightly curly, dark blue eyes fringed by lashes of the same dark colour.
Colouring that could just as well be her own, Laura decided stubbornly.
But could she also claim the facial features that already promised to look so much like Liam’s as Bobby matured? Or the mischievous grin that could be so like Liam’s?
If challenged, she would have to!
‘Your mother seems to be temporarily speechless, Bobby.’ Liam was the first one to speak, only the huskiness of his voice giving any indication of the passion they had so recently shared. ‘So I had better introduce myself. I’m Liam O’Reilly.’ He moved forward to hold his hand out formally to the little boy. ‘An old friend of your mother’s.’
‘Robert William Shipley Jun
ior,’ Bobby told him with shy pride as he shook the proffered hand.
Laura felt an emotional catch in her throat as father and son faced each other for the first time. They were so alike. Liam must realise who Bobby was!
Or maybe it was just her, with her inner knowledge, who could see the likeness? She certainly hoped so…!
Liam released Bobby’s hand as he smiled down at him ‘Your mother tells me you prefer to be called Bobby,’ he said softly.
The little boy shrugged narrow shoulders. ‘I don’t mind Bobby or Robert. The teachers at school call me Robert.’
Laura looked down at her son in some surprise. Bobby had never told her that before. But perhaps now that his father, also Robert, was dead…
‘I think I quite like Bobby, if that’s okay with you?’ Liam spoke to the little boy, but his narrowed gaze was fixed on Laura. As if he was well aware of how perplexed she had just felt.
And maybe he was, she inwardly conceded; Liam, as an author, was a people-watcher, had always been able to intuitively read other people’s emotions.
Which was yet another reason for guarding her own emotions when around him!
She straightened her shoulders. ‘If that’s all, Liam,’ she prompted distantly, wanting him to leave. ‘I would like to go and share some breakfast with Bobby now.’
‘Breakfast sounds like a good idea,’ Liam came back smoothly. ‘I didn’t feel much like eating earlier this morning,’ he elaborated, as Laura gave him a frowning look.
Because he had been bombarded with reporters at his hotel even earlier than she had!
But, even so, her suggestion about breakfast had not included Liam. And he knew it!
‘We’re only eating cereal and toast,’ she told him flatly.
‘Sounds good,’ Liam replied. ‘As long as you have those cornflakes with the sugar already on them; they’re my favourite,’ he told Bobby conspiratorially.
‘Mine, too,’ Bobby told him with a gappy grin. He was missing his two top front teeth, being at the age when he was starting to lose his milk teeth in favour of permanent ones.
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