if she wanted to leave the house at all today.
Her only consolation was that Liam was probably faring just as badly!
Not that she had expected her own privacy to be invaded in this way. It was Shipley Publishing the press should be talking to, not Laura Shipley herself.
Liam!
This was all his fault. If he hadn’t been so determined to have his own way none of this would be happening.
The doorbell rang again.
And again, when Laura didn’t move to answer it.
And yet again as she continued to stand in the hallway, glaring at the closed front door.
The incessant noise would wake Bobby in a minute, and then she was going to be really angry!
She wrenched open the door. ‘I thought I told you—Liam!’ she recognised, startled, as she found he was the one now standing on her doorstep, and groaned her dismay as several cameras flashed in her face. ‘Come inside,’ she instructed furiously, grabbing his arm to drag him into the hallway and close the door against those intruding cameras. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’ she demanded accusingly, knowing his presence here at her home was only going to add fuel to the fire.
Liam didn’t look any happier than she did, scowling down at her darkly. ‘Your telephone has been constantly engaged for the last hour,’ he rasped. ‘What else was I supposed to do, if I wanted to talk to you, but come over here?’
‘My telephone hasn’t been engaged all morning—I’ve taken it off the hook! A case of self-preservation,’ she snapped in explanation. ‘The first reporter rang here at eight o’clock this morning.’ She glared her displeasure.
Liam relaxed slightly. ‘They started ringing me at seven-thirty!’
Laura’s eyes flashed blue-green. ‘Is that supposed to make me feel better?’
He grimaced. ‘If it was, it obviously hasn’t succeeded.’ He ran a distracted hand through the darkness of his hair. ‘Are you going to ask Amy to bring us both a cup of coffee into the sitting room, or do you intend to keep me standing out here in the hallway all day?’
What she wanted to do was tell him to leave!
But he was right about the inappropriateness of them standing here in the hallway—though not for the reason he said. Even though this was a large house, their voices were no doubt carrying up the stairs to the bedrooms. And the last thing she wanted was for them to wake Bobby and for him to appear!
‘Go through to the sitting room; you know the way,’ she said ungraciously. ‘I’ll go and ask Amy for the coffee.’ And check on Bobby while she was about it!
Liam was standing in front of the unlit fireplace when Laura joined him in the sitting room a few minutes later, his expression grim, although he seemed to shake that off as he turned to smile at her.
‘You look much more like the old Laura in those denims,’ he murmured huskily.
She felt the colour enter her cheeks. She didn’t want to be reminded of the old Laura! But, as Liam had just pointed out, she was dressed casually today, in denims and a soft green jumper. Unless there was an emergency she had no intention of going in to the office today, was going to spend the time with Bobby instead.
Thoughts of her son still asleep upstairs gave a sharpness to her answer. ‘Appearances can be deceptive!’
Liam raised dark brows, smiling slightly. ‘Ever on the defensive, Laura.’
She gave an acknowledging inclination of her head before asking, ‘Why are you here, Liam?’
His expression became grim once again, his eyes narrowed. ‘Have you seen the National Daily today?’
She gave a disgusted snort. ‘Do I need to?’ She waved her hand towards the front of the house. At least half a dozen reporters and cameramen were gathered out there now.
Liam winced. ‘I think so.’ He pulled a folded newspaper from the pocket of his dark blue jacket, the usual denims and a tee shirt worn beneath. ‘Here.’ He held the newspaper out to her.
Laura sensed a certain wariness about him now, as if he already knew she was not going to like what she read in the newspaper he offered her. Her own unease deepened considerably.
‘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.
