Keeping Luke's Secret

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘Yes,’ she answered dismissively. ‘Rachel, you telephoned me completely out of the blue last week and asked for this meeting; don’t you think it would be helpful if you were to tell me why?’ she added with a frown.

  In fact, Leonie had been caught completely off guard when summoned to a telephone call at the university eight days ago, only to discover that the caller was the actress Rachel Richmond. She had been so thrown by the identity of the caller that she had agreed to this meeting while still in a daze.

  Although it was obvious from the few insulting remarks Luke Richmond had thrown at her that he was under the impression that she had asked for this meeting.

  A fact Leonie would have been only too happy to have corrected for him—if he had given her the opportunity. Which he most definitely hadn’t!

  But despite having had plenty of time for thought since Rachel’s call Leonie was no nearer knowing the reason for this meeting. She had even enlisted Jeremy’s help, but he had simply teased her about ‘hobnobbing with the rich and famous’. Other than that he had been no help in finding a solution either.

  Jeremy…

  Leonie found herself smiling as she thought of her fellow lecturer, a computer whizkid, who managed to transmit his love for the technology to the students who flocked to join his degree course year after year.

  An attraction of opposites, Leonie accepted with a rueful smile. Leonie, with her love and interest firmly fixed in the past, Jeremy, with his lightning-speed acceptance and understanding of an advanced technology that he was sure would dominate the future.

  He was also the reason she didn’t want to be late back to town, the two of them having a dinner date for this evening…

  Rachel unlinked her arm from Leonie’s as she turned to look at her, suddenly serious, the green eyes no longer glowing with warmth but darkly searching, looking more like her seventy-odd years now that she was no longer smiling. ‘But surely it’s obvious why I telephoned you, my dear?’ She frowned quizzically.

  Leonie gave a rueful grimace, shaking her head in obvious puzzlement. ‘Not to me. All you would say on the telephone last week was that you wanted to talk to me,’ she reminded lightly.

  ‘But—’ Rachel shook her head. ‘You mean you have absolutely no idea why I invited you here?’ She sounded incredulous.

  ‘None at all,’ Leonie confirmed with a good-humoured grimace.

  ‘I see.’ Rachel frowned. ‘Oh, dear. Well, that makes things rather awkward, doesn’t it?’ she realised ruefully. ‘You see, I read your book on Leo Winston—’

  ‘So—so your son informed me.’ Somehow Leonie couldn’t bring herself to call that arrogantly cold man by his first name! ‘I believe he also read it.’ Her voice hardened as she remembered the disparaging comment he had made. ‘I’m pleased you liked it, of course, deeply flattered—’

  ‘My dear girl, I didn’t ask you all the way down here just to compliment you on your book,’ Rachel assured her chidingly. ‘I could quite easily have done that on the telephone. No, my dear Leonie, I asked you here because I want you to write my biography. An official biography this time,’ she added with a certain steeliness in her tone for the previous effort that had so recently appeared.

  Leonie stared at the older woman.

  She wanted her to—

  Rachel couldn’t be serious!

  CHAPTER 2

  ‘IS SHE serious?’ Jeremy gaped at Leonie across the width of the dinner table later that evening.

  ‘She says she is,’ Leonie confirmed slowly. ‘That she’s been looking for the right person to write the truth for years—’

  ‘And she’s decided that you’re it,’ Jeremy realised excitedly. ‘What a coup!’

  Leonie nodded less certainly. ‘I did try to tell her that I’m not really a biographer…’ But her protests had been instantly dismissed, Rachel assuring her that she wanted Leonie, and Leonie alone, to write the biography that the public had been clamouring for for years, that after reading Leonie’s biography on Leo Winston she was sure Leonie would write Rachel’s own story with the same truth and warmth.

  ‘Of course you are,’ Jeremy instantly rebuked, grinning widely, the same height as Leonie if she wore flat heels, as she was this evening. He was boyishly handsome, his straight blond hair slightly overlong so that it fell endearingly over his eyes, those eyes the blue of a summer sky. ‘A damned good one too!’

  ‘Thank you, kind sir,’ Leonie accepted with a smile.

  ‘But this is—wow.’ He shook his head dazedly. ‘In view of Rachel Richmond’s well-publicised view of biographies, this was something we never even gave a thought when we were mulling over reasons she might want to meet you—I still can’t believe it!’ His grin widened.

  Neither could Leonie. And despite the obvious compliment being paid to her, she wasn’t sure she wanted to do it, either!

  It wasn’t the work involved that daunted her. In fact, she was sure she would very much enjoy the research involved. The reason for Leonie’s reluctance to become involved in such a venture could be summed up in two words—Luke Richmond!

  She hadn’t seen Rachel’s son again before leaving the house earlier, Luke not having graced them with his presence while they’d drunk tea together, but Leonie had no doubts whatever what his reaction would be to being informed that Leonie was going to write his mother’s biography; he would believe Leonie had arranged to see his mother for the sole purpose of persuading the actress into letting her do it!

  In view of that, Leonie had asked Rachel for a week to think the offer over…

  ‘You accepted, of course?’ Jeremy looked at her searchingly as he seemed to sense her confused thoughts. ‘Leonie, you have to have accepted!’ he continued incredulously when she made no answer. ‘This is the story the press have been after for almost forty years! I take it she will—finally!—be revealing the identity of the father of her love-child? Of course she will,’ he instantly answered his own question. ‘There would be no point in the biography if she were to leave out that particular detail.’

  Yet another reason for Leonie to hesitate about accepting the actress’s offer! For reasons unknown, Luke Richmond already disliked her enough, without holding her responsible for publicly revealing his paternity. And she had no doubts that he would!

  ‘I didn’t ask her.’ Leonie shook her head. ‘But I expect so. It isn’t that, Jeremy.’ She frowned. ‘I just—it isn’t really my thing, now, is it?’ she reasoned to herself as much as to Jeremy. ‘You said it yourself last week—we’re talking about the rich and the famous. I’m a historian—’

  ‘You could be a very rich historian with your name on this particular book,’ Jeremy pointed out determinedly.

  A famous rich historian. Something she was sure she didn’t want to be.

  She enjoyed her life exactly the way it was, lecturing at the university, going off on historical pilgrimages during the long weeks of holiday, puttering around in her small one-bedroomed flat during term time, occasionally going down to Cornwall to visit her parents on weekends, her grandfather in Devon on others.

  Although that hadn’t happened too often during the three months she had been going out with Jeremy, their Saturday evening dinner together having become a regular thing, as had a visit to the theatre or cinema one evening during the week…

  ‘It would seriously cut into my spare time,’ she pointed out heavily. ‘Rachel has already suggested that as I lecture during the week the best thing for me to do is go down to her house in Hampshire for the weekends while we work on the book. If I work on the book,’ she added decisively.

  ‘Of course you must work on the book,’ Jeremy instantly came back. ‘You’re already calling the woman Rachel, for goodness’ sake!’ he teased softly, even as he reached across the table and took Leonie’s hand in his. ‘You aren’t worried about us, are you, Leonie?’ He looked at her searchingly.

  She couldn’t prevent the slight blush that coloured her cheeks at his use of the word ‘us
’. Obviously they had only been seeing each other for a few months, and she had no idea how Jeremy felt about her, but she did know that she liked him very much, enjoyed his company immensely. She couldn’t see him remaining interested in her if all she had to offer him was one evening of her time during the week.

  ‘Hey, it wouldn’t be for ever,’ he chided her gently. ‘A couple of months at the most, I would have thought. I can put up with that if you can?’ he teased softly. ‘Or is it something else that’s bothering you?’ he prompted shrewdly.

  For some reason she was loath to mention Rachel’s son, the odious Luke Richmond. Probably because her antipathy towards him was almost as strong as his was towards her. And while he might have some idea of his own reason for feeling that way, she had no explanation for the way she felt. Except she didn’t feel in the least comfortable with the man…

  She hadn’t asked Rachel—that would have appeared too rude!—but she had no idea whether Luke Richmond resided at his mother’s home on a permanent basis, or whether he had just been visiting for the weekend. But if he did live there, Leonie knew she would find going there every weekend in order to write this book, with the resentful Luke very much in evidence, totally intolerable.

  ‘I’m not sure I want to do this, Jeremy,’ she said with feeling. ‘I—I have an uneasy feeling about it.’ A totally inexplicable, but nevertheless very real, sense of unease. In fact, the feeling was so strong that she had wanted to run out of the house earlier today and never look back. Incredible, but true.

  ’Is Rachel Richmond still as beautiful as she looks in photographs?’ Jeremy prompted interestedly.

  Leonie smiled as she remembered Rachel’s genuine warmth and beauty. ‘Oh, yes,’ she answered unhesitantly. ‘Perhaps there’s something to be said for remaining unmarried,’ she added jokingly. ‘Rachel certainly doesn’t seem to have developed any worry lines over the years!’

  Jeremy shook his head ruefully. ‘I doubt she’s lived completely without male company all these years,’ he said dryly.

  ‘No, there’s Lu—Her son,’ she hastily corrected the familiarity; after all, he wasn’t a man who invited it!

  ‘I wasn’t exactly referring to that sort of male company,’ Jeremy teased, laughing as she grimaced her realisation of what he did mean. ‘Anyway, Leonie, you have to admit, it has to be a very tempting offer? One that deserves thinking about?’

  Oh, it was tempting, all right, if only because Leonie knew it would be a challenge. As for thinking about it—she had a feeling she was going to do little else until she spoke to Rachel again the following week…

  * * *

  ’You look surprised to see me,’ Luke Richmond drawled coldly as he stood on her doorstep, totally blocking out the sun that was trying to shine into the doorway of her basement flat.

  Of course she was surprised to see him! For one thing, she had no idea how he had found out her home address when all his mother had was her telephone number at the university. For another, she hadn’t been expecting him. He hadn’t given any indication at his mother’s home yesterday that he had any desire ever to set eyes on her again, either!

  Besides, she wasn’t exactly dressed to receive company, her denims old and faded, the pink tee shirt having shrunk in the wash, added to which her feet were completely bare.

  ‘Well?’ he rasped at her lack of response to his statement.

  ‘Well, what, Mr Richmond?’ she returned tartly. This was her home, and her time, and she did not appreciate having her Sunday afternoon interrupted by this man in this arrogant way. Although from the little she had learnt of him yesterday, she had a feeling he didn’t know how to behave in any other way!

  Dark brows rose mockingly over pale green eyes. ‘Aren’t you going to invite me in? Or is that a problem for you?’ he added derisively.

  Leonie’s frown deepened. ‘In what way would it be a problem for me, Mr Richmond?’ she returned impatiently.

  He shrugged broad shoulders beneath the black jacket and green shirt he wore with black trousers. ‘Perhaps it might prove—inconvenient for you, if you already have someone in residence?’ His eyes narrowed speculatively.

  Deep grey eyes flashed her anger at his obvious derision. ‘I live alone, Mr Richmond,’ she snapped, pointedly holding the door open wider so that he could walk inside.

  ‘I’ve never yet known that as a viable reason for not having the occasional—weekend house-guest,’ he drawled mockingly, his physical presence making the hallway seem extremely narrow.

  And Leonie extremely uncomfortable!

  Consequently her reply was sharper than usual. ’Don’t judge everyone by your own standards, Mr Richmond,’ she snapped.

  His only physical response to her obvious sarcasm was a slight rising of his dark brows. ‘Can you really see Rachel accepting my taking a procession of women into her home?’ he scorned.

  Leonie frowned. ‘You live in Hampshire with your mother…?’ It was a question she had wanted an answer to since yesterday!

  He shrugged. ‘Most of the time. Like you, I have an apartment in London; I just rarely use it.’

  ‘How nice to have that luxury,’ Leonie snapped scathingly; it took most of her wages to keep even this small apartment in London—and she was sure that this man’s London home was much more luxurious than this.

  ‘I think so,’ Luke drawled. ‘Do you have a problem with my living arrangements?’ His gaze had narrowed ominously.

  ‘Not in the least,’ Leonie dismissed uninterestedly. ‘Would you like to come through to the sitting-room?’ She pushed open the door to the right of where they stood, leading the way into her sparsely furnished sitting-room.

  His mouth twisted derisively as he followed her. ‘I thought you would never ask,’ he murmured dryly.

  Leonie shot him a reproving glance before turning to check that the sitting-room was at least tidy; she usually cleaned the apartment on a Sunday, but she hadn’t got as far as this room yet today. Everything looked as neat as usual, only yesterday’s newspaper on the coffee-table out of place.

  It was a deliberately uncluttered room, completely bare of photographs, the chairs and tables cane, coloured scatter rugs on the highly polished light-coloured wood floor, a couple of Monet prints on the cream walls.

  She bent down to pick up the newspaper, tucking it under her arm. ‘Can I get you a coffee? Or anything?’ she offered awkwardly.

  ‘Coffee will be fine; it’s a little early in the day for “anything”,’ Luke Richmond drawled, looking dubiously at one of the cane chairs. ‘Is that thing strong enough to take my weight, do you think?’ he murmured ruefully.

  ‘If it isn’t, I’m sure buying me a replacement won’t be a problem for you,’ Leonie snapped rudely, her cheeks flushing deeply red as he looked across at her, brows raised mockingly.

  Get a grip, Leonie, she instantly rebuked herself. Okay, so the man was rude and condescending, but that was no reason to lower herself to his level!

  ‘I’ll go and make some coffee,’ she muttered before hurrying from the room, only breathing easily again once she reached the warm brightness of her cream and yellow kitchen.

  What was Luke Richmond doing here?

  As if she really needed to ask!

  Obviously his mother had told him of her decision to offer Leonie the chance to write her biography—and Luke was here to see that Leonie turned down that offer. That alone was enough to make her want to accept it!

  Which, in her opinion, was a totally childish reaction. She was twenty-nine years old, with a doctorate in History, was a well-respected university lecturer, and, even if she did say so herself, her biography on her grandfather the previous year had been well received.

  But, then, that was the real problem for Luke Richmond, wasn’t it?

  ‘Here we are.’ She put the laden coffee tray on the table a few minutes later, dismissively registering the fact that he seemed to have risked one of the cane chairs—and that so far the ‘thing’ hadn’t collapse
d on him! ‘Cream and sugar?’ she offered politely once the coffee was poured into the cups.

  ‘Neither, thanks.’ Luke Richmond accepted the cup she offered him.

  She should have already known that this man would be completely uncompromising, even when it came to how he drank his coffee!

  She added a liberal amount of cream and sugar to her own coffee before sitting down in the chair opposite his; she was one of those people lucky enough to be able to eat and drink anything without putting on weight.

  ‘So, Mr Richmond,’ she murmured after taking a sip of her own coffee, ‘what can I do for you?’

  ‘Well, you can call me Luke, for a start,’ he bit out tersely. ‘“Mr Richmond” makes me sound like Methuselah!’

  It also kept him on a formal level—which was exactly where Leonie wanted to keep him!

  His gaze was narrowed as he looked round the room. ‘This is rather nice,’ he finally murmured admiringly. ‘Who was your interior designer?’

  ‘Leonora Winston,’ she answered with a derisive twist of her lips. ‘Interior designer’, indeed!—was this man on the same planet as her? As if she could afford an interior designer!

  But then, Luke had been born to a mother who was one of the highest-paid actresses in the world, must have lived with her in Hollywood for most of his childhood, and the house Leonie had visited in Hampshire yesterday, although extremely comfortable and beautifully decorated, was more like a mansion than a family home…

  Luke looked at her with glacial green eyes. ‘It wasn’t my intention to be insulting,’ he rasped.

  ‘I know that,’ Leonie sighed, putting down her empty coffee-cup. ‘And no insult was taken. It must be difficult for you to understand—well, just difficult,’ she amended awkwardly as she realised she was the one being insulting now.

  ‘I can assure you I haven’t always lived with a silver spoon in my mouth,’ Luke said.

  ‘No?’ Leonie prompted interestedly.

  ‘No,’ he confirmed dryly, adding nothing further to the statement.