As she knew only too well. Just that brief hour in his company yesterday evening had shown that, if anything, Liam’s arrogance had grown over the years, not diminished.
Which was a little hard to take, in this particular instance, when the man hadn’t had a book published for eight years.
Except that, like Perry, she knew Josie’s World, the whimsical story of a girl growing to maturity in a small Irish village, was so beautifully written that it was going to outsell anything they had every published before.
The problem here was that Liam knew it too!
‘Difficult or not,’ Perry answered grimly, ‘I want that book.’
Laura spoke quickly. ‘Then I suggest you discuss terms with him.’
‘And if I need to talk to you?’
‘Call me,’ she answered abruptly. Under no circumstances was he to bring Liam anywhere near her! She glanced at her watch. ‘It’s ten-thirty now. Ask him to come in and see you at four o’clock.’ When she would already have left her office for the day in order to collect Bobby from school.
As Amy had said last night, it wasn’t easy for her juggling motherhood with being head of Shipley Publishing. But with help from people like Amy, and a very loyal and reliable level of management at Shipley Publishing, she managed to keep all those balls in the air. If her own personal life seemed to suffer because of it, then it didn’t really matter; she already had more than she could ever have hoped for.
‘That way you aren’t going to look too compliant,’ she told Perry encouragingly. ‘As for the problem of who you’re dealing with; I think his arrogance this morning probably answers that question for you!’
‘You’re right,’ Perry agreed. ‘Sorry.’ He grimaced. ‘I was just thrown there for a few minutes.’ He walked purposefully to the door, obviously no longer thrown. ‘I’ll call him and tell him I can spare him a few minutes at four o’clock.’ He paused in the open doorway. ‘Wish me luck.’
She nodded, smiling—knowing he was going to need it! Liam was a force to be reckoned with—she was just relieved she wasn’t the one who would have to deal with it!
‘—told you, Mrs Shipley is busy and—You really can’t go in there!’ Ruth, her secretary, could be heard protesting agitatedly even as the office door was forcefully opened.
‘No?’ A sceptical Liam O’Reilly stood arrogantly in that open doorway, dark brows raised as he looked challengingly across the room at Laura as she sat behind the imposing desk in front of the window.
Laura’s first thought—stupidly!—was that it was only three o’clock! The man shouldn’t have arrived at Shipley Publishing for another hour!
‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Shipley.’ Ruth, small, plump, red-haired, very efficient at her job, looked crossly indignant at the way Liam had just trampled over her! ‘This—gentleman she announced sceptically, ‘asked to see you. But as he doesn’t have an appointment—’
‘And as I told this young—lady,’ Liam bit back with the same sarcasm, ‘I don’t need an appointment to see you.’ Again he looked at Laura with those hard, challenging blue eyes.
He most certainly did need an appointment! And if he had asked for one he most certainly wouldn’t have got one. Although, in the circumstances, it was a little late in the day to be worrying about that now!
Laura slowly put the pen she had been working with down on the desk-top, ignoring Liam to smile reassuringly at her secretary. ‘It’s all right, Ruth,’ she lied. ‘Mr O’Reilly and I are—acquainted.’
Ruth gave the intruder another indignant glare before turning back to Laura. ‘If you’re sure…?’
She nodded. ‘It’s fine.’
It was far from fine!
How dared Liam just push his way in here? More to the point, how had he known she was here at all?
‘Nice office,’ he drawled as Ruth closed the door behind him.
It was a beautiful office; there were oak-panelled bookshelves on three of the wall’s supporting copies of past and recent books published by the company. Her own desk was of the same mellowed oak and a plush fitted blue carpet covered the floor.
But, at the same time as Laura acknowledged the luxurious appointments of her office, she knew Liam was no more interested in their surroundings at the moment than she was.
What was he doing here?
She eyed him warily as he strode further into the room, blue denims old and faded, grey shirt beneath a loose black jacket. No wonder Ruth had tried to block his path into Laura’s office; he hardly looked the part of a successful author, let alone a millionaire!
‘Mrs Shipley,’ he murmured, almost to himself, it seemed.
Laura stiffened. It wasn’t what he had said so much as the way he had said it. Insultingly. Deliberately so, she was sure.
‘Mr O’Reilly,’ she returned with equal deliberation. ‘Or do I mean Mr O’Shea?’
After all, if he now knew who she was, there was absolutely no longer any point in any pretence on her part concerning his own attempt at subterfuge. At least she had only lied by omission—which was no lie at all; Liam had never asked her for her married name!
Blue eyes narrowed as Liam looked her over speculatively.
Which was a little like being studied under a microscope! Laura felt as if, just by looking at her in this way, Liam was trying to discover what else it was he didn’t know about her.
‘If it’s not too stupid a question,’ she began when she couldn’t stand that cold scrutiny any longer, ‘how did you know where to find me?’
‘I asked downstairs and was directed to the top floor,’ he returned satirically.
‘Very funny, Liam,’ she said wearily. ‘You know very well that isn’t what I meant at all!’
‘Isn’t it?’ he replied sharply. ‘Tell me, Laura, have you enjoyed the little game you’ve been playing with me the last two days?’ he rasped harshly, blue eyes dark with anger.
‘Game?’ she echoed dazedly, in no way recovered yet from the shock of his being here, in her office. A place he had no right to be! ‘I haven’t been playing any games, Liam—’
‘No?’ he cut in scathingly. ‘Yesterday afternoon at the hotel you and Perry Webster gave no indication that the two of you knew each other, and yet you’re his employer. Last night, when we met for a drink, you deliberately didn’t tell me that you know exactly what I’m doing in London at the moment—’
‘Not deliberately,’ she interrupted firmly. ‘Never that. I simply didn’t see the point in—’
“‘Didn’t see the point”!’ Liam repeated with cold fury, moving across the room with deceptively light footsteps. ‘I’ll tell you what the point is, Laura.’ He stood just across the other side of her desk now, leaning forward menacingly as he spoke to her. ‘The point is that you deliberately made a fool of me.’
‘I did not!’ she gasped.
‘Oh, yes, Mrs Shipley,’ he insisted, ‘you did.’
Laura shook her head. ‘I told you I was married—’
‘But not who you were married to,’ Liam scorned.
‘What difference does it make who I was married to?’ she challenged heatedly. ‘I didn’t see it bothering you last night when you—’
‘Yes?’ he taunted softly, suddenly very still. ‘When