‘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.