No doubt Liam would have little difficulty in persuading Paula of the lack of truth in the allegation, but he was hardly going to be content to leave it at that, she thought hollowly. Hugh could provide him with her address. What she’d done to his reputation by not putting the record straight was no joke either. She was ninety-nine per cent sure that he was faithful to his wife. Hopefully, Liam was on his own in taking their relationship for anything but what it was.
She reached her small but cosy flat around eleven-thirty after an uneventful journey out to Kilburn, surprising Sarah, who hadn’t been expecting her for at least another hour or so.
‘Any time,’ she said when Regan thanked her. ‘With Don so tied up with this new job, I’m more often than not free of an evening, and it’s hardly as though I’ve far to go home. Pop down for coffee in the morning if you feel like it,’ she added at the door.
Coffee was the last thing on Regan’s mind right now. Tomorrow was Saturday, which meant she would have to contact Hugh at his home in order to apologise for her unannounced departure—although what excuse she was going to come up with she couldn’t think. For a wild moment she contemplated phoning him now on the mobile he carried everywhere and asking him not to tell anyone where she was to be found. A waste of time in any case, she realised, when all Liam had to do was look up her name in the phone book.
There was no movement from the bed when she opened the door. Regan went over and straightened out the tangle of small, pyjama-clad limbs and duvet without raising a murmur, bending to press a tender kiss to the tousled head. She loved the weekends when the two of them could spend quality time together—lived the whole week in anticipation of it. Nothing had changed in that respect. Nothing would. Liam was hardly likely to stake a claim.
Back in the living room, she opened up the sofa bed in preparation before beginning to undress. With only the one small bedroom, and allowing for the disparity in retirement times, it made sense for Jamie to have sole possession. She was lucky, she supposed, to have her own kitchen and bathroom for the rent she was paying—although that was likely to take a considerable hike when her lease came up for renewal next month. A bridge that would have to be crossed.
She was between sheets by midnight, though not to sleep. Lying on her back staring sightlessly at the ceiling, she went back over the events of the evening with almost masochistic intent. She could still feel the pressure of Liam’s lips on hers, the hard muscularity of his body, dredging up memories she had fought so long to subdue. She hadn’t been totally devoid of masculine company these past years, but there had been no one she had come close to forming any kind of relationship with. Her own feelings, or lack of them, aside, it took a special kind of man to retain an interest in a single mother.
Her heart gave a gigantic jerk as the intercom connected to the outer door of the building buzzed, settling to a painful throb. There was only one person who would be making a call at this hour: one person angry enough to disregard everything but the need for settlement.
The buzz came again, held for longer this time. If she didn’t let him in there was a good chance that he’d rouse one of the other tenants. With Jamie fast asleep there was a possibility that she might still manage to keep his existence a secret, came the thought, as she rose reluctantly from the bed to switch on a lamp and go across to press the intercom button.
‘Who is it?’ she said warily, hoping against hope that it was a mistake after all.
‘Who the hell do you think it is?’ was the harsh retort. ‘Open this door. Now!’
Short of risking others becoming involved, there was little choice. Regan clicked the control then returned to the bed, sliding her feet into a pair of slippers and pulling on a wrap. Catching a glimpse of her face in the nearby wall mirror, she lifted her chin, willing herself to stay calm and in control. That it was going to be an uncomfortable few minutes there was no doubt, but if she kept her head she could get through it without giving anything away.
She needed no second bidding to go and open the flat door in answer to the peremptory knock. Liam seemed to fill the doorway, the expression on his face a forecast of what was to come. He advanced without waiting for an invitation, forcing Regan to step aside in order to avoid being mown down.
‘You’ve got some explaining to do,’ he clipped.
She steeled herself afresh as she closed the door and turned to view him. ‘I apologise,’ she said. ‘It was a stupid thing to do.’
There was a certain sharpening in the penetrative quality of the grey eyes. ‘Stupid isn’t the word I’d use. Why? is the question I’d like answering.’
Her shrug was as indifferent as she could make it. ‘Retaliation, of course.’
‘A pretty unusual method of payback.’
She shrugged again. ‘Pure spur of the moment. Anyway, I’m sure you’ll have little difficulty convincing your…partner that there’s no truth in it.’
‘There’s no partnership,’ he said. ‘Business or otherwise.’
Some nameless emotion flickered at the back of Regan’s mind. ‘Girlfriend, then. I’ll write her a note admitting I lied, if you like.’
Liam regarded her narrowly for several seconds before shaking his head. ‘Not necessary.’ He cast a comprehensive glance about the room, opinion clearly expressed. ‘Is this all there is?’
‘I have a kitchen and bathroom.’ She did her best not to sound defensive. ‘What else is needed?’
‘There’s hardly room to swing a cat!’
‘I don’t have a cat.’ Regan stirred restlessly, aware that every passing minute increased the danger. ‘If you’ve said all you came to say, I’d like to get some sleep.’
The grey eyes returned to her, too perceptive by half. ‘I haven’t finished. Not by a long chalk. The man you were with tonight is a company director at Longmans.’
She lifted her chin, guessing what was coming. ‘Right.’
‘And you’re his secretary—standing in for his wife who couldn’t make it.’
‘Right again.’
‘So why the devil didn’t you tell me that in the first place!’
‘What difference would it have made?’ she asked. ‘Office affairs aren’t exactly unheard of!’
He regarded her long and hard, ignoring the innuendo. ‘Are you having an affair with him?’
That’s my affair, she hovered on the verge of retorting, biting it back on the reminder that it was Hugh’s life she was messing with not just her own. ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘I work for him, and occasionally socialise with him when Rosalyn is out of town—with her approval—but that’s as far as it goes. He’s a good friend, and I did him a thorough disservice.’
‘No more than I did to the two of you.’ Liam paused, expression difficult to decipher. ‘I’d have expected you to be married with a family by now. That seemed to be your main ambition at twenty-two.’
Regan kept a steady tone with difficulty. ‘I realised there was more to life.’
‘And this is it?’ he said with another disparaging glance around the room. ‘You had it in you to do a whole lot better.’
‘Compared with your lifestyle, I dare say this stinks,’ she shot back, unable to maintain the composure, ‘but it suits me!’ Limbs shaky, she indicated the door. ‘Just go, will you?’
‘Longmans pay good rates,’ he said as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘You must be earning enough to afford something a bit more up-market than a second-floor bedsitter—especially when you’ve only yourself to think about. I could put you on to a reliable agency if it’s just a case of finding the right place.’
‘I don’t need any help! Not from you, or anyone!’ Regan was past caring