ever had been!
There had been years of being in foster care and then several more years of being out in the world on her own. Before meeting Simon…
At the thought of him she brought her thoughts to an abrupt halt. She hadn’t thought of him for years; refused to think of him. It was all too painful…
Then why was she thinking of him now? She frowned. She knew why. That man, Liam, in some way reminded her of Simon. Oh, not in his manner; Liam was much more self-assured and powerful than Simon had ever been. Simon had been so weak. But their colouring was the same; Simon had been blond as Liam, with the same deep blue eyes. He had been almost as tall as the other man too.
Maybe that was one of the reasons why Liam had evoked such a strong response within her; she could usually handle any advances made to her without feeling as if she was running away! But Liam had made her feel defensive from the first. And now she knew the reason why. He reminded her of Simon, the man she had once loved so deeply…
And, having realised that, Juliet found it was not conducive to her peace of mind that Liam was the first person she saw when she entered the hotel dining-room half an hour later. He was seated alone at a table near a window that overlooked the tranquil bay of this beautiful resort in the north of the island, his luncheon companion noticeably absent. And he looked devastatingly attractive in a white dinner-jacket and snowy white shirt with a white bow-tie, his blond hair brushed back from his face, his eyes deeply blue against his tan.
Juliet looked quickly away from him because he seemed to sense her gaze on him and turned in the direction of the doorway she had just walked through. Probably he had been expecting the beautiful blonde from lunch; he was obviously waiting for someone, as his table was set for two people. And the other woman would probably want to make a grand entrance when she did arrive— unlike Juliet, who just wanted to reach her table as quickly as possible, away from that piercing blue gaze which she could feel was watching her every move now.
The black dress she wore was plain but stylish, fitting neatly to the smooth contours of her body, showing the extent of her shapely legs beneath its knee-length hem. Her hair, the long red curls wilder than usual from the slight breeze that had blown up this afternoon, was loosely confined at her nape with a black slide this time, her make-up light, her lip-gloss a light peach colour.
She had checked her appearance before she’d left her suite, and knew she looked elegantly attractive rather than showily sexy—the way she had always liked to look when she had acted as William’s hostess during business dinners. It was a style of dress that made her feel comfortable. But not so with Liam watching her so intently!
She kept her gaze on the back of the maitre d’ as he took her to her table, looking to neither left nor right of the elegant candlelit dining-room as she did so, not wanting even inadvertently to meet the gaze of the man Liam.
‘Good evening, Juliet.’
She looked up at the sound of his voice, her eyes widening as she realised that the maitre d’ had left after showing her to the table Liam occupied. Liam was standing now as he looked down at her with amused blue eyes.
She shook her head, colour darkening her cheeks. ‘There seems to have been some sort of mistake…’ She looked about her self-consciously.
‘No mistake, Juliet,’ he assured her smoothly, coming around the table to pull back the chair that was placed opposite his.
She frowned up at him, making no move to sit in the chair. ‘But I don’t want to have dinner with you,’ she blurted out bluntly.
‘Oh, I think you do, Juliet,’ he murmured derisively, that amusement still in his dark blue eyes.
She looked up at him indignantly. ‘I most certainly do not!’ she snapped. ‘What happened to your companion from lunch? Didn’t it work out?’ she scorned with obvious sarcasm. Really, this man was extremely arrogant to have assumed that she would be willing to have dinner with him, even going so far as to tell the maitre d’—obviously, because the other man had shown her to this table without hesitation!—that she would be joining him. Well, she had no intention of doing so!
The amusement gone from his eyes now, his gaze narrowed. ‘Sit down, Juliet,’ he told her softly, but nevertheless in a voice that brooked no further argument.
No doubt he was uncomfortable with the attention—albeit discreetly—that was being directed their way from the other diners in the room because of her obvious reluctance to join him at his table. Probably this had never happened to him before, Juliet realised disgustedly.
Her gaze was steady as she looked up at him, grey eyes cool and calm. ‘I told you, I don’t want to have dinner with you,’ she said evenly, her voice lowered.
Liam straightened, his expression grim now. ‘And if you remember I said that you do,’ he returned challengingly.
Her eyes widened now. He really was the most…! ‘Maybe this arrogant approach works with some women,’ she snapped indignantly, ‘but it certainly isn’t going to work with me! Now, if you’ll excuse me…?’ She looked at him pointedly as he stood firmly in the way of her walking away from the table.
‘Certainly.’ He stepped back. ‘But I was under the impression,’ he added softly as she turned away, ‘that you wanted to talk to me.’
Juliet turned back dazedly. ‘I can’t imagine how you ever gained that impression,’ she said incredulously. ‘Other than bluntly telling you I don’t care whether I ever set eyes on you again, I’ve done everything I could to show you that I’m not interested in whatever you have in mind. You really do have the most monumental arrogance, Mr…Liam!’ Her eyes flashed her anger as she glared up at him.
‘The name is Carlyle, Juliet,’ he told her softly. ‘Edward William Carlyle,’ he added pointedly. ‘Are you still of the opinion that you don’t care whether you ever set eyes on me again?’ He coolly returned her gaze, his brows raised mockingly.
JULIET didn’t have to be asked to sit down again; she almost fell into the waiting chair, all the time looking up at the man she now knew to be Edward Carlyle, the man she had come here to see.
He 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
