Mother's Day Treats

It wasn’t just a book, and they both knew it. It was an assured bestseller. ‘And the second thing?’

‘Well, as we seem to have been presented with a fait accompli, why don’t you stop being so difficult about acting as my editor, too?’

There was something very wrong with this conversation, something that didn’t add up. What? Ah, she had it. Why wasn’t Liam screaming and shouting, demanding an explanation…? After being absolutely adamant concerning the need for secrecy concerning his novel, he would be perfectly within his rights to be blazingly angry. And yet he wasn’t…

Three people knew about Liam’s book: herself, Perry, and Liam himself. She had already eliminated the first two—which only left Liam…!

No, Liam couldn’t have given that information to a reporter himself! It didn’t make sense—

Why didn’t it? A fait accompli, he had just said. And she was the one, not Liam, who had been presented with it…

But why?

It just didn’t make any sense. She had to be wrong. Liam—

‘What are you thinking?’ He watched her with narrowed eyes.

Nonsense. Utter nonsense. There was absolutely no reason why Liam should have leaked the information to the press about his book himself. It went against everything he had previously told her he wanted concerning the publication of Josie’s World.

‘It isn’t important.’ She shook her head dismissively. ‘So, you’re saying you would still like Shipley to publish your novel?’

Liam shrugged. ‘I never had a problem with it. Only with your choice of editor,’ he added pointedly.

‘And the publicity this reporter’s article may incur?’

He shrugged again. ‘I’m sure you’re more than capable of dealing with it.’

‘I may be,’ she conceded. ‘But what about you? It’s the one thing you’ve maintained you definitely don’t want.’

‘I still don’t,’ he agreed. ‘But if it’s handled properly—’ he gave her a sharp look ‘—the whole thing will just become a nine-day wonder. It may resurface once the book is published—’

‘There’s no may about it,’ Laura warned him determinedly.

‘Hopefully by that time I shall be safely back in Ireland, my whereabouts unknown by anyone except my lawyer,’ he confirmed pointedly.

Because their only address for him was that post office box in London…

Laura gave him a narrow-eyed look, still not convinced. ‘I must say,’ she said slowly, ‘you’re taking all of this much more calmly than I expected.’

Liam grinned. ‘I am, aren’t I?’ he agreed.

Laura’s earlier suspicions weren’t in any way lessened by this reply. If Liam had decided that publicity wouldn’t hurt him after all, despite what he had earlier maintained to the contrary, then there was absolutely no reason why he couldn’t have been the one to leak the information to the press. And neatly present her with that fait accompli.

It did seem a little extreme just as a means of achieving his own way. But, in a warped sort of way, it also made sense. Much more sense than the information having been leaked from anyone at Shipley Publishing.

And what more extremely reliable source could there be than the author himself…?

Laura sat back in her chair, looking across at Liam with narrowed eyes. Would he really have gone to that extreme just to ensure he got his own way—having her as his editor?

It seemed unbelievable, and yet…

‘What is it?’ he demanded, watching her closely.

Laura had been aware of that scrutiny, but her thoughts remained her own. ‘I’m not sure,’ she answered softly. ‘Tell me, Liam, the young lady who was just here—’

‘I told you, she’s the sister of an old university friend,’ he cut in harshly.

Laura nodded. ‘And her name would be…?’

Liam was scowling now, sitting tensely forward on his own chair. ‘What does her name have to do with anything?’ he rasped.

She wasn’t sure. Yet. But Liam had made no attempt to introduce the two women earlier; in fact he had seemed anxious to keep them apart. Which had been extremely rude of him. Although perhaps understandable if the other woman were a current romantic involvement in his life. But it might have another explanation…

Also, though she could be imagining it, now that Laura thought about it, the leggy blonde’s voice had sounded vaguely familiar…

Laura drew in a sharp breath. ‘Her name wouldn’t happen to be Wilson, would it? Janey Wilson? As in Janey Wilson, reporter for the National Daily?’

She watched Liam closely for his reaction to her suggestion noting the way the pupils of his eyes widened and then contracted, the slight increase in grimness about his mouth, the nerve pulsing in his throat.

Her mouth quirked disgustedly. ‘I can see that it is,’ she bit out, shaking her head. ‘Why, Liam?’ She frowned.

But she already knew the answer to that. Liam was determined to have his own way concerning his publisher and editor, and had decided, after meeting her again, that she was to be both those things. He was even willing to sacrifice his own privacy to achieve that objective—had hoped to use Janey Wilson’s newspaper article as a means of pressurising Laura into accepting those conditions.

‘Don’t bother to answer that,’ she said, before he could even attempt to do so, turning to pick up her shoulder bag before standing up. ‘I have to go now; I’ve already wasted enough of my day on this—’ She broke off abruptly as Liam reached out and grasped her wrist to prevent her leaving. ‘Let go of me, Liam,’ she told him with cold determination.

His hand tightened about the slenderness of her wrist as he too stood up, at once dwarfing her. ‘I did warn you yesterday not to believe you had got rid of me so easily.’

Her brows rose. ‘And today has proved that you carry out your threats.’

His face darkened. ‘It wasn’t a threat—’

‘Then you must have just managed to make it sound that way,’ Laura scorned.

‘And your decision?’ His eyes were narrowed.

‘Concerning your neatly engineered fait accompli?’ she clarified derisively. ‘I’m not sure,’ she admitted heavily.

And she wasn’t. She needed time and space—away from Liam!—to consider what she should do next. For everyone’s sake, not just her own.

‘Laura!’ His hold on her wrist relaxed slightly, his thumb moving caressingly against the base of her own thumb now.

Laura snatched her hand out of his grasp, angry when she still felt that slight caress against her skin. ‘I’ll let you know, Liam,’ she said tonelessly.

‘When?’

‘When I’m good and ready!’ she returned hotly. ‘You may have set this scene, Liam, but you don’t have the power to dictate everyone else’s moves now that you’ve done so! I need to think about all of this.’ Definitely away from him—far away! ‘When I’ve reached a decision I’ll call you.’

He studied her flushed and angry face for several long seconds before slowly nodding his head. ‘Just don’t leave it too long, hmm?’ he finally murmured.

Her eyes flashed in warning. ‘As long as it takes! You’ve engineered a situation here, Liam—for your own reasons,’ she added as he appeared about to protest. ‘But none of us—including you!—know what the repercussions might be once this story appears in the newspaper tomorrow.’ She shook her head resignedly.

Laura didn’t know what those repercussions might be, but she could certainly take an educated guess.

She only hoped Liam was ready for it!

She hoped she was too!

CHAPTER EIGHT

PREDICTABLY, the telephone at Laura’s home began ringing before eight o’clock the next morning. And continued to ring.

Laura had answered the first call, found herself talking to a reporter on a different daily newspaper from the National Daily, and quickly ended the conversation—only to have the phone ring again seconds later. To go unanswered. As the following dozen or so calls went unanswered, too. Until Laura decided to actually take the receiver off the hook. It meant she couldn’t receive any genuine personal calls either, but in the circumstances it was a small price to pay.

How members of the press had got hold of her private home number she had no idea; she never ceased to be amazed by the amazing network that fed them.

To say she was annoyed by this intrusion was an understatement! Thank goodness Bobby was still fast asleep, no doubt exhausted by events; Laura wasn’t sure how she would have answered his questions about the fact that the telephone receiver was being left permanently off the hook!

When the doorbell rang shortly after nine o’clock Laura opened the door to find one of the more determined reporters standing on her doorstep, vaguely waving his press card in her face before launching into a series of quick-fire questions. Questions Laura had no intention of answering. After telling him the inevitable ‘no comment’, she quietly and firmly closed the door in the young man’s face.

But she could see several other reporters, some with cameras, hovering at the end of the pathway as she did so, and her irritation turned to anger as she realised she would probably have to run the gauntlet of them if she wanted to leave the house at all today.

Her only consolation was that Liam was probably faring just as badly!

Not that she had expected her own privacy to be invaded in this way. It was Shipley Publishing the press should be talking to, not Laura Shipley herself.

Liam!

This was all his fault. If he hadn’t been so determined to have his own way none of this would be happening.

The doorbell rang again.

And again, when Laura didn’t move to answer it.

And yet again as she continued to stand in the hallway, glaring at the closed front door.

The incessant noise would wake Bobby in a minute, and then she was going to be really angry!

She wrenched open the door. ‘I thought I told you—Liam!’ she recognised, startled, as she found he was the one now standing on her doorstep, and groaned her dismay as several cameras flashed in her face. ‘Come inside,’ she instructed furiously, grabbing his arm to drag him into the hallway and close the door against those intruding cameras. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’ she demanded accusingly, knowing his presence here at her home was only going to add fuel to the fire.

Liam didn’t look any happier than she did, scowling down at her darkly. ‘Your telephone has been constantly engaged for the last hour,’ he rasped. ‘What else was I supposed to do, if I wanted to talk to you, but come over here?’

‘My telephone hasn’t been engaged all morning—I’ve taken it off the hook! A case of self-preservation,’ she snapped in explanation. ‘The first reporter rang here at eight o’clock this morning.’ She glared her displeasure.

Liam relaxed slightly. ‘They started ringing me at seven-thirty!’

Laura’s eyes flashed blue-green. ‘Is that supposed to make me feel better?’

He grimaced. ‘If it was, it obviously hasn’t succeeded.’ He ran a distracted hand through the darkness of his hair. ‘Are you going to ask Amy to bring us both a cup of coffee into the sitting room, or do you intend to keep me standing out here in the hallway all day?’

What she wanted to do was tell him to leave!

But he was right about the inappropriateness of them standing here in the hallway—though not for the reason he said. Even though this was a large house, their voices were no doubt carrying up the stairs to the bedrooms. And the last thing she wanted was for them to wake Bobby and for him to appear!

‘Go through to the sitting room; you know the way,’ she said ungraciously. ‘I’ll go and ask Amy for the coffee.’ And check on Bobby while she was about it!

Liam was standing in front of the unlit fireplace when Laura joined him in the sitting room a few minutes later, his expression grim, although he seemed to shake that off as he turned to smile at her.

‘You look much more like the old Laura in those denims,’ he murmured huskily.

She felt the colour enter her cheeks. She didn’t want to be reminded of the old Laura! But, as Liam had just pointed out, she was dressed casually today, in denims and a soft green jumper. Unless there was an emergency she had no intention of going in to the office today, was going to spend the time with Bobby instead.

Thoughts of her son still asleep upstairs gave a sharpness to her answer. ‘Appearances can be deceptive!’

Liam raised dark brows, smiling slightly. ‘Ever on the defensive, Laura.’

She gave an acknowledging inclination of her head before asking, ‘Why are you here, Liam?’

His expression became grim once again, his eyes narrowed. ‘Have you seen the National Daily today?’

She gave a disgusted snort. ‘Do I need to?’ She waved her hand towards the front of the house. At least half a dozen reporters and cameramen were gathered out there now.

Liam winced. ‘I think so.’ He pulled a folded newspaper from the pocket of his dark blue jacket, the usual denims and a tee shirt worn beneath. ‘Here.’ He held the newspaper out to her.

Laura sensed a certain wariness about him now, as if he already knew she was not going to like what she read in the newspaper he offered her. Her own unease deepened considerably.

‘Page four,’ Liam indicated as she took the newspaper.

She gasped as she turned the double-page spread to find a photograph of Liam and herself. The photograph had obviously been taken the previous afternoon at the hotel—without either of them realising it! The two of them were seated in the hotel lounge, smiling across at each other in what looked like a very friendly manner.

Laura couldn’t imagine at what part of their meeting that had been, but nevertheless the evidence was there in front of her eyes.

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!

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!