‘I thought you were returning to Ireland this evening?’ she queried as she picked up her shoulder-bag.
‘I was,’ Liam confirmed, walking over to the door with her.
‘What happened to change your plans?’ As if she really needed to ask that!
Since his telephone call to Perry this morning Liam had found out that she was Shipley Publishing—and he was enjoying playing the cat-and-mouse game with her that he had initially accused her of playing with him. Well, that stopped right now!
‘Never mind,’ she said suddenly. ‘I really do have to go now—’
‘Could you drop me off somewhere?’ Liam suggested sardonically.
‘No, I couldn’t!’ Her face was red from anger now. ‘Liam—’
‘In that case, before I go I’ll make an appointment with Watch-dog Ruth for the two of us to meet tomorrow morning,’ he told her unconcernedly.
Laura paused with her hand on the door. ‘Liam, I have no intention of having a meeting with you tomorrow morning, or indeed any other time,’ she said frustratedly, all the while aware of the time ticking away. ‘Perry is more than capable of dealing with any queries you may have—’
‘Not the ones I want answers to,’ Liam put in softly.
Laura gave him another sharp look, not liking the way this unexpected meeting had gone at all. But she really did not have the time to deal with this just now; she had Bobby to think of.
‘Make what appointments you like, Liam,’ she advised him impatiently. ‘But I will have nothing to say to you in the morning that I haven’t already said.’
Liam gave her a considering look. ‘Is he important to you?’ he finally asked consideringly.
She gave him a startled look. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she had to leave immediately she would have made sure Liam was fully aware of exactly how this situation lay! As it was… ‘Who?’ she prompted irritably.
He folded his arms across the width of his chest. ‘The man you’re going off to meet—and don’t say it isn’t a man,’ he stated, as she would have spoken. ‘I recognise that flush in your cheeks, that glow in those incredibly beautiful eyes, only too well.’
‘You do?’ she said sceptically.
‘I most certainly do,’ Liam rasped. ‘You always glowed like this when you were excited or pleased about something.’
She didn’t want to hear how she looked when she was excited or pleased—or to remember the occasions when Liam must have seen her in that particular state.
‘Goodbye, Liam,’ she told him with blazing dismissal, wrenching open the door to hurry from the office without a backward glance, giving Ruth a brief wave before she hurried out to the lift and downstairs to the waiting car.
But she couldn’t bring herself to relax as Paul drove in the direction of Bobby’s school, aware that she was cutting things very fine for picking her son up on time. Secure and confident as Bobby was generally, he was still only seven, and he tended to become anxious if there was no one there to meet him when the school bell rang at the end of the day.
‘With a minute to spare,’ Paul told her with satisfaction as he pulled the car into the school car park.
‘Thanks, Paul,’ Laura told him with relief, before hurrying off to Bobby’s classroom.
Liam had said she looked pleased and excited, but he had obviously mistaken the reason for those emotions. She was always pleased to be with Bobby, and in his case her excitement was actually maternal pride.
She smiled with that love and pride as she watched her son through the classroom window as he packed his books away for the day. The tallest in his class, he was a very handsome little boy, dark hair curling slightly, blue eyes bright and alert, his features still showing signs of babyhood.
Liam’s son…
Laura frowned as she acknowledged the likeness between father and son. It wasn’t just that their colouring was the same; Bobby had a certain proud bearing in his stance, and was obviously going to be as tall as his natural father.
For the first time, as she watched her son unobserved, she pondered the question of whether or not one day—when Bobby was old enough for Liam not to be able to even attempt to have a share in his son’s childhood or teenage years!—she would have to tell him about his real father.
For her own sake, she answered a definite no; after the pain of the past she couldn’t contemplate sharing even Bobby’s adulthood with Liam! From Bobby’s point of view she was less sure. He had loved Robert as his own father, been devastated at his ‘daddy’s’ death two years ago. But the truth of the matter was Bobby’s real father was still very much alive… Was she right to deny him all knowledge of that?
Why did Liam have to come back into their lives in this way and present her with this dilemma?
‘Why are you frowning, Mummy?’ Bobby asked curiously at her side, having joined her without her even noticing, and with his hand now nestling comfortably in hers as he looked up at her.
She determinedly pushed away her disquieting thoughts, smiling down at her son. ‘Was I, darling?’ she parried, taking his school bag from him. ‘I was actually just wondering if you would like to go out and have a burger for tea?’
As she had expected—and hoped!—the thought of going out for tea instead of going straight home totally diverted Bobby from the fact that she had initially looked less than happy.
She pushed thoughts of Liam away into a locked compartment in her mind. She intended keeping it that way. If she knew Liam—and she was sure she did!—then he would have made that appointment to see her in the morning; she could think about him again then.
Easier said than done! She had managed to get through tea at the burger restaurant, had bathed Bobby at home, done his homework with him, read him a story after she’d put him to bed, all without allowing a single thought of Liam to interfere. She wasn’t so lucky now she was alone in her own bedroom later that evening!
Eight years ago Liam, a lecturer when he wasn’t actually writing, had come to her university to give a talk on modern literature. She remembered that the hall had been packed that day, all of the students, having read at least one Liam O’Reilly book, now curious to see and listen to the man himself.
Laura hadn’t heard a word he’d said!
As soon as Liam had stepped on to the podium she had been mesmerised—by the way he looked, the way he moved, the soft, lilting seduction of his voice.
The lecture had passed in a daze for Laura, and she had still been lost in daydreams of the handsome author when she’d gone to the refectory for her lunch, picking uninterestedly at the pasta salad she hadn’t remembered choosing, sipping lukewarm coffee she had forgotten to put any sugar in.
‘Did you know there’s a contact-lens in your tea?’
Those words! Ill-fated, if she had but known it. But at the time all she had cared about was the fact that the man she’d been daydreaming about had just spoken to her, the lilting attraction of his voice unmistakable.
Her cheeks had been fiery red as she’d looked up to see Liam O’Reilly standing beside her table with his own laden luncheon tray, and her breath had caught in her throat as she’d gazed up into the rugged handsomeness of his face.
She’d moistened suddenly dry lips. ‘I don’t drink tea,’ she returned shyly. ‘And I don’t wear contact lenses either,’ she added, well aware that he had to be referring to the differing colours of her eyes.
He grinned down at her. ‘I know. Oh, not that you don’t drink tea,’ he explained as he put his tray down next to hers on the table. ‘I meant the contact lenses; I couldn’t help but notice the incredibly unusual beauty of your eyes at the lecture earlier.’
Those eyes widened now, even as she swallowed hard. ‘You—saw me there?’
He grinned. ‘Second row, third seat in. Mind if I join you?’ He indicated the otherwise empty seats around the table at which she sat.
‘Er—no. I mean, yes. No, of course I don’t mind if you join me,’ she corrected self-consciously.
All the time at the lecture, when she had been gazing at him like some besotted idiot, he had actually noticed her too! Or maybe he had noticed her because she’d been gazing at him like a besotted idiot…?
‘I enjoyed the lecture,’ she told him nervously as he lowered his lean length into the chair beside hers.
He gave her a sideways glance, a smile still playing about those sculptured lips. ‘Did you?’ he drawled teasingly. As if he were well aware of the fact that she hadn’t heard a word he said!
‘Don’t look so stricken,’ he advised gently as the colour first came and then as quickly receded from her face, leaving her very pale, her eyes huge pools of colour in that paleness. ‘You weren’t the only one who looked ready to fall asleep,’ he assured her humourously. ‘I’m well aware that for most of you a degree is the only goal, that a lot of the work that precedes obtaining that degree can be boring in the extreme—’
‘You weren’t in the least boring!’ she burst out protestingly as she realised he thought that was the reason for her inattentiveness. ‘I—I was fascinated,’ she told him truthfully—even if that fascination hadn’t exactly been with what he was saying!
‘Prove it,’ he invited, taking a mouthful of the chicken sandwich he had chosen for his lunch.
She swallowed hard, eyeing him warily. If he intended going through a question-and-answer session on his talk that morning she might as well own up to the truth right now; until she had chance to look at a friend’s notes she wouldn’t have a clue what he had actually talked about!
‘Have dinner with me this evening?’ he asked lightly.
Dinner…? Liam O’Reilly wanted her to have dinner with him?
She stared at him, trying to tell from his expression exactly what he meant by such an invitation. He looked back at her with questioning blue eyes—eyes that told her nothing!
Laura moistened her lips again, frowning up at him, her uncertainty mirrored on her face.
Liam chuckled softly. ‘Is it such a difficult thing to decide?’ he teased.
‘I—er—no,’ she answered hesitantly. ‘I just— Why on earth would you invite me out to dinner with you?’ Her frown deepened.
Dark brows rose over deep blue eyes. ‘Because I’ve never met anyone before with such incredible, beautiful, unusual eyes,’ he confessed.
Laura grimaced. ‘I think you’re playing with me, Mr O’Reilly,’ she said heavily.
‘That’s your prerogative,’ he conceded huskily. ‘But the dinner invitation stands. And the name’s Liam.’
‘Laura,’ she returned shortly. ‘Laura Carter.’
‘Well, now that we’ve formally introduced ourselves—would you care to have dinner with me this evening, Laura?’ He quirked dark brows once more.
‘Yes,’ she answered quickly—before she could give herself time to think too much about it and say no!
She had no idea why he had invited her out to dinner—but she knew exactly why she wanted to accept; he was just as mesmerising on a one-to-one basis as he had been on the podium earlier. In fact—more so!
He nodded. ‘And make sure you bring your appetite with you this evening; I can’t abide women who pick at their food.’ He looked pointedly at her almost untouched salad.
By the end of that first evening together Laura was no nearer knowing the reason for Liam’s invitation than she had been when he’d made it.
They had talked about any number of things—books, art, Ireland, what Laura intended doing with her degree—always supposing she got it!—when her course finished next summer—but not by word or deed had Liam made even the remotest romantic move on her.
He had, however, asked to see her again.
And again.
In fact, within a few very short weeks Laura found herself spending most of her spare time with him, helping to type out any lectures he might have to give, often accompanying him to those lectures too, immensely proud of the fact that she was obviously with him.
Over those next few months she was to learn a lot of things Liam ‘couldn’t abide’ about women. They included women being clingingly possessive. Women who talked too much. Women who didn’t have an opinion of their own. Women without a sense of humour. Women who giggled inanely. Extrovert women. Introvert women. Women who were too fat. Women who were too thin. The list seemed endless.
By the time she had listened to all the things Liam didn’t like about women, and had desperately tried to make sure she was none of those things in order that he should continue to spend time with her, Laura had had no idea who or what she was any more!
And now, with his announcement earlier today that he intended her to be the editor of his new book, Liam was obviously still trying to call all the shots!
Well, this was eight years on. And she knew exactly who she was now. She was Laura Shipley. Widow of Robert. Mother of Bobby. Trustee owner of Shipley Publishing.
One thing she most assuredly was not, and never would be, was Liam O’Reilly’s editor!
CHAPTER SIX
‘WHAT on earth do you think you’re doing?’
Liam glanced at her over the top of the business diary he had picked up from her desk and was now looking at. ‘Making sure you don’t have another prior engagement to escape to this morning,’ he finally drawled in satisfaction, snapping the diary shut before dropping it down.
Laura glared at him frustratedly. As he had said he would, Liam had made his appointment to see her this morning; in fact, he was her first appointment for the day. Which didn’t augur too well for the rest of it!
‘Satisfied?’ she snapped impatiently, placing the diary neatly back in its original place.
Liam raised mocking brows. ‘Hardly,’ he replied, dropping down into the chair that faced hers, wearing his usual denims, shirt and a black jacket. ‘Now perhaps we can continue our conversation of yesterday,’ he said, looking across at her with a smile.
Not exactly. As he had said, they had last spoken yesterday; she had had over eighteen hours to recover from the shock of having him invade her office in the way that he had. She had also spoken with Perry when she’d come in the first thing this morning, knew that Liam had cancelled his meeting with him yesterday afternoon…
‘I believe we concluded that particular conversation, Liam,’ she came back calmly. ‘In the circumstances, it was very unwise of you not to keep your appointment with Perry yesterday,’ she added coolly.
Liam arched dark brows. ‘That sounds suspiciously like a threat to me, Mrs Shipley,’ he returned softly.
She was not in the best of humour this morning, had slept very badly after those thoughts of her early relationship with Liam eight years ago had come flooding back with such clarity. She certainly wasn’t in the mood to deal with any more of Liam’s games.
‘Take it as you like, Liam,’ she sighed. ‘I told you yesterday. I run this company; I no longer have the time to be an editor too—’
‘Make me the exception,’ he cut in.
She looked at him incredulously; he was the very last person she would make an exception for—in anything!
She sighed, shaking her head. ‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Why not?’ she spluttered. ‘It must be obvious why not!’ she said exasperatedly.
‘Because we were once lovers?’ he mused consideringly. ‘But that was years ago, Laura. A lot has happened since then. We’ve both been married to other people, for one thing—happily or not so happily.’ He grimaced with feeling. ‘Surely you aren’t afraid that history might repeat itself, are you, Laura?’
‘Certainly not!’ she gasped indignantly. The only thing she was afraid of was that he would discover she had a son—his son!
The only thing!
He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘Then where’s the problem?’
‘Liam, are you learning-impaired? Why do I have to keep repeating myself? I—’
‘No longer edit any of the books yourself,’ he finished dryly. ‘I did hear tha
t the first time you said it. As I recall, I asked you to make me the exception. Laura,’ he continued smoothly as she would have spoken, ‘make no mistake. I will go to another publisher.’
She drew in a sharp breath, having given this alternative some thought last night too—when she hadn’t been remembering what it had been like between them in the beginning, eight years ago!
To pass up the chance to publish the new Liam O’Reilly book would be madness from a purely business point of view, she knew, but not to the extreme where it would damage the company. After all, they already had a number of highly successful authors.
No, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if Shipley Publishing were to lose this particular novel to another publisher—it just wouldn’t make sense to anyone but herself! Not that she particularly cared about that either; she was well past the stage of explaining herself to anyone.
No, it was none of that that made her hesitate in telling Liam to go ahead and find himself another publisher…
It was the wrong construction Liam had already put on her actions—that she was in some way frightened of working with him—that caused her to balk at telling him to go, and take his manuscript with him. She already knew there was no way that history would repeat itself where the two of them were concerned!
‘That sounds suspiciously like a threat to me, Liam.’ She repeated his own words of a few minutes ago.
He shrugged. ‘That’s probably because it is one,’ he acknowledged suavely. ‘Laura—’ He sat forward, his expression intense as he glared at her across the width of the desk. ‘I would like the two of us to work together on this. Won’t you at least give it a try?’ he encouraged.
When all else fails, use the charm, Laura inwardly derided. The fact that that charm had once worked on her very effectively did not mean it would do so now!
‘Or is it that you don’t think you’re up to the job?’ he added tautingly.
Her lips curved into a humourless smile—the charm hadn’t lasted long! ‘Nice try, Liam,’ she responded. ‘But I believe I have already mentioned that after I left university I became a book editor…?’
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