Carole Mortimer Romance Collection. Carole Mortimer. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Carole Mortimer
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Зарубежные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474008686
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was Edward Carlyle. Edward William Carlyle, that middle name obviously where the Liam part came from. Good God, she still couldn’t believe it. He had been this close to her all day and she hadn’t even known it.

      But he had known exactly who she was, she suddenly realised as she watched him resume his seat in the chair opposite her. And he had been playing some sort of cat-and-mouse game with her all day…

      And he still was, she slowly acknowledged as he met her gaze coolly across the width of the table that stood between them. He looked perfectly relaxed as he rested the lean length of his body back in the chair.

      Juliet drew in a slow, controlling breath. She had found Edward Carlyle at last or rather he had found her! She mustn’t let her feelings of resentment at his subterfuge override her need to speak with him. But she did feel resentful; there was no doubt about it. He had known all along exactly who she was, she was sure of that now, but he had chosen not to let her know who he was until he had been ready to do so. Which appeared to be now.

      ‘You’re right,’ she nodded, amazed at how calm she sounded considering that she still felt slightly dazed by the fact that she had already had at least two other opportunities today to speak to Edward Carlyle, and hadn’t even been aware of it. ‘I do want to speak to you. I—’

      ‘Shall we order dinner first?’ he suggested lightly as the waiter appeared at their table.

      The last thing she felt like doing now was eating; in fact, she felt as if food might actually choke her. ‘I haven’t had a chance to look at the menu yet,’ she said awkwardly.

      Liam—Edward Carlyle—gave her a considering look. ‘Would you like me to order for you?’ he offered distantly. ‘I can recommend the salmon and the pork.’

      He should be able to—he owned the damned hotel! God! Ordinarily she would have told him what he could do—what any man could do!—with his arrogance in suggesting that he order her food for her, but there was nothing ordinary about this meeting, and quite frankly she didn’t feel up to choosing anything for herself. ‘Fine,’ she accepted abruptly, closing her unread menu before turning to stare sightlessly out of the window while he spoke to the waiter.

      This wasn’t at all how she had envisaged meeting Edward Carlyle; she had thought it would be on a business footing, not the two of them sitting here in evening clothes about to eat a meal together. Especially when, until a few minutes ago, one of them had been at a complete disadvantage in not knowing exactly whom she was speaking to!

      He didn’t look anything like William, his father having been dark-haired, with astute grey eyes and softer features than his son’s. She could be forgiven for not having made any connection between the two men. But that didn’t alter the fact that she was now sitting opposite Edward Carlyle at the meeting she had wanted for the last two months— and that she felt completely at a loss as to how to even begin the conversation they needed to have!

      She drew in a ragged breath as she turned back to face him. ‘Mr Carlyle—’

      ‘The name is still Liam,’ he cut in firmly. ‘No one but my father ever called me Edward. And he was “Mr Carlyle",’ he added grimly.

      The friction that had existed between the two men when William had been alive was still obvious in Liam’s voice. Juliet sat forward in her seat. ‘We need to talk, Mr…Liam,’ she amended at his frowning look. ‘But I don’t think these are exactly the right circumstances.’ She looked pointedly around them at the rapidly filling restaurant. A pianist and a violinist were now taking up their positions across the room.

      ‘No,’ he acknowledged abruptly as the music began to play softly in the background.

      Juliet frowned across the table at him. She was looking at him with new eyes now that she knew he wasn’t just a man who had been trying to pick her up for a holiday fling. And she could see a toughness about his mouth and eyes, a power in the hard lines of his face; he didn’t look as if he was going to be an easy man to talk to in any circumstances!

      ‘We’ll have dinner, Juliet.’ he told her softly. ‘Then we can talk over coffee in one of the lounges.’

      That still wasn’t ideal. This was a business affair, not something to be discussed in these luxurious surroundings over a cup of coffee!

      ‘Juliet,’ Liam continued firmly as he steadily met her gaze across the width of the table, ‘we do this on my terms or not at all.’

      Her eyes flashed, deeply grey. He knew that he had the upper hand and was very much in control of the situation. And he was enjoying the power.

      But if she got up and walked out now would he ever give her the opportunity to talk to him again? Somehow she knew that he wouldn’t. He didn’t need to; he had already shown his lack of interest in Carlyle Properties. If she wanted to talk to him at all, she was going to have to sit here and suffer through dinner with him. But for what reason? If they didn’t discuss business, what else were they going to talk about for the couple of hours it would take to eat the meal?

      ‘Tell me about yourself, Juliet,’ he invited once their salmon had been delivered to the table.

      She gave him a startled look. What did he mean, tell him about herself? What was there to tell? He must already know that she was his partner in Carlyle Properties, and he had stated quite firmly that he didn’t want to talk about business just yet, so…

      ‘Your personal life, Juliet,’ he drawled mockingly, seeing her puzzled expression.

      She blinked across at him, making no effort to use the fish-knife and fork she had picked up preparatory to eating her salmon. Personal life? She didn’t have one. Carlyle Properties had been her life for the last seven years.

      ‘You must have one,’ he taunted, having no hesitation in starting his own meal.

      She shook her head. ‘No, I—’

      ‘Where do you live? Do you have a family? A boyfriend? Lover? Or are you married? With children?’

      The questions were shot at her in such quick-fire succession that Juliet barely had time to draw her breath before Liam delivered the next one. And what he was asking was too personal when they were only business partners!

      ‘I could ask you the same questions,’ she returned challengingly.

      His mouth twisted mockingly. ‘Well, I certainly don’t have a boyfriend!’

      Her cheeks warmed at his mocking tone. ‘I saw your girlfriend earlier,’ she snapped irritably.

      He frowned slightly, and then his brow cleared. ‘You mean Diana,’ he nodded. ‘Diana isn’t my girlfriend, Juliet; she’s my personal assistant.’

      Juliet gave him a slightly sceptical look from beneath raised brows. If that was what he chose to call the other woman that was up to him, but there had seemed to be a familiarity between the two of them that implied a slightly deeper relationship than the one he had described.

      ‘As you were my father’s personal assistant,’ he added softly.

      Juliet gave him a sharp look, but the blue eyes that returned her gaze were completely enigmatic. Just how much did this man already know about her? And if he already knew the answers to the questions he had asked her why had he asked them at all?

      She gave a cool nod of acknowledgement. ‘As I was your father’s assistant.’

      ‘And now you’re his joint heir,’ Liam bit out hardly.

      She swallowed hard. It must seem strange to William’s son that his father had worded his will in the way he had, she freely acknowledged that, and if Liam had shown the slightest interest in Carlyle Properties during the last two months she would gladly have told him that she knew he had prior claim to the company. But she knew from his behaviour that he would be quite happy to see Carlyle Properties go under, and she owed William more than to allow that.

      ‘You didn’t answer