‘You could say we had a frank exchange of views. His view being that I’m a selfish, untrustworthy bastard who has taken advantage of his hospitality by seducing his daughter.’
She winced whilst acknowledging privately it could have been worse. Dad’s language the previous night had been a lot less restrained. ‘I’m sorry, Liam, but he’s a bit upset right now.’
‘I didn’t say I disagreed with him.’
‘Don’t you start,’ she snapped. ‘I’ve had enough of that nonsense from him! I told Dad if anyone did the seducing it was me!’ Unpalatable though it might be, this was a fact and she couldn’t pretend it wasn’t. Chin tilted, she dared him to contradict her.
Something flickered at the back of his eyes. ‘That must have gone down well. I’m surprised he didn’t turn the dogs on me.’
Jo smiled a little wanly as she thought of her father’s motley collection of other people’s rejects—one thing they all had in common was extreme docility. ‘If he had they might have drooled you to death. Do you remember when—?’
‘We need to do some serious talking, Jo.’ His expression made it clear he didn’t share her desire to reminisce. ‘You can’t act as though nothing has changed.’
He’s telling me that! ‘You prefer Greek tragedy? I’ll polish up my heart-rending sobs, shall I? You don’t have to tell me nothing is ever going to be the same—I’ve worked that out even hampered by my limited intelligence.’
He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘Point taken, Jo. You just seem so. . . so calm about all this.’
She had to smile at that. He had no notion of the blind panic that had seized her when she’d first realised she was pregnant. ‘Your life doesn’t have to change fundamentally because of this.’ It was only natural he’d be concerned—having fatherhood thrust upon him was bound to be an unsettling experience.
His fingers tightened over the curve of her collar-bone and she winced. ‘Sorry,’ he grated, dropping his arm. ‘You’re assuming I couldn’t cope with the demands of fatherhood.’
The anger emanating from his tense body confused her. ‘I’m sure you could cope, I’m just saying you don’t have to. I’ll be fine on my own. . . ’ The blast of fury from his blue eyes made her voice trail away.
‘Only you won’t be on your own, you’ll have my child.’
She suddenly realised she’d been naive not to expect this possessiveness, but it genuinely hadn’t occurred to her.
‘And the child will have you too, but not on a full-time basis. That’s all I was trying to say.’ Considering the obvious depth of his feeling she was prepared to overlook his hostility.
‘But you’ll grant me visitation rights.’
‘We won’t need anything like that,’ she said, shocked by his suggestion and the bitterness in his tone.
‘You say that now, but what about later when a new Justin is back on the scene? Has it ever occurred to you that I don’t want to be a part-time father?’
What was he saying? They both knew nothing else was possible. She couldn’t believe this was Liam talking; he was like a stranger—a stranger, furthermore, she didn’t much like. ‘You’re talking nonsense.’
‘I’m making a valid point. I’m not prepared to leave the future to take care of itself, not when it’s my child we’re talking about.’
‘Our child,’ she said quietly.
‘Pardon?’
‘Our child,’ she said, her voice moving swiftly up the scales. ‘You keep saying my child this, my child that. I am involved in this,’ she reminded him sarcastically. ‘What a fool I was to assume that this would be easier because we’re friends! If I had to have a one-night stand I wish I’d had it with a stranger! It would have made things a lot easier.’
Under his tan Liam went white and the vivid colour of his eyes seemed more pronounced by contrast. ‘We’re all wise in retrospect. It would seem you’re stuck with me as the father of your child, Jo. You’d better come to terms with the fact I’m not about to disappear.’
‘Not even to Manchester,’ she reminded him. ‘If we’re talking priorities. . . ’ She could see from his expression that her jibe had hit home.
‘I have to go,’ he bit back. ‘If I could avoid it I would. I know the tuning stinks, but I’ll be back tomorrow and we’ll talk.’
‘I’ll be at work tomorrow.’
‘Stay here and wait for me.’
He had a very elegant way of moving, but Jo was in no mood to appreciate the aesthetic beauty of his retreating back. Maybe Liam was accustomed to people jumping when he started flinging his orders about, but he’d discover she wasn’t one of them. Wait here for me indeed!
‘Thanks, Justin, you don’t have to do this, you know.’
‘Despite the way things turned out, Jo, I hope we can still be civilised,’ he replied rather stiffly. But then Justin, she reflected, never had been a casual person.
‘I’m really grateful,’ she said warmly as he stacked the books she passed him into a packing case. She looked around the half-empty office with sad eyes. To her mind her personal imprint was already vanishing from the small room along with the pot plants and books.
‘I wish you’d let me speak to my colleague about unfair dismissal proceedings,’ he said with a disapproving frown. ‘It’s all most irregular—you deserve compensation.’ His legal bram disliked seeing her waste an opportunity for recompense. ‘I’d represent you myself, but it’s not my field.’
Jo was touched by his offer. ‘No, I’ve thought about it and I don’t want to,’ she said firmly. ‘Besides, they were very careful not to say, We’re sacking you because single parents aren’t good for the image of MacGrew and Bartnett,’ she recalled bitterly. No, it had been all exquisitely polite. ‘There was only ever a verbal agreement that I’d be offered the partnership this year—you know that, Justin. They didn’t actually sack me—I could have accepted a demotion.’
‘But they knew you wouldn’t.’
The shake of her head conceded this. It hadn’t mattered to her four years ago that she’d been taken on as a token female in the well-known, but deeply conservative, firm of accountants. She had been given an opportunity to show how good she was at competing with the very best. She’d thrived on the competition.
Up until now it had seemed her tactics had paid off, she’d made her mark. She’d been so good for business that she had been unofficially told she was about to be offered a partnership. At twenty-seven, she would be the youngest partner they’d ever had. That was until she’d been summoned into the boardroom that morning. A ‘reduction in her workload’ was the way they’d put it.
‘Well, I think their whole attitude belongs in the Dark Ages,’ Justin said sternly.
Despite her simmering anger and sense of injustice, Jo almost smiled. She’d never imagined she’d see the day when the ultra-conventional Justin would side with contemporary morality. Despite his looks, which made him appear rather dangerous and dashing, he really was an old-fashioned traditionalist at heart. In reality he was only dangerous in a court of law, where, by all accounts he was a ruthless litigator. Justin was a classic example of the welltried maxim ‘Don’t judge a book by the cover’, she reflected.
She cursed as the pile of papers she was carrying slipped to the floor. She dropped to her knees and began gathering them up. Justin joined her; she was rather surprised he was risking