had taken matters out of his control and made that impossible for him.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide. ‘You surely don’t think that I deliberately—’
‘Don’t be so damned stupid,’ he rasped harshly. ‘Neither of us planned what happened between us just now—that’s why we’re in the predicament we are!’ he added self-disgustedly.
Silke swallowed hard. ‘We probably aren’t in any predicament at all,’ she dismissed with more confidence than she felt. God, what if she were to be pregnant? What would they—she—do? Would Lyon expect her to...? It wouldn’t be any of his business, she decided firmly. It was her body, for goodness’ sake; she could do what she liked with it—and that included giving birth to Lyon’s child if she chose to do so. Just the thought of it made her stomach lurch!
‘”Probably” doesn’t do it, I’m afraid,’ he bit out coldly.
‘Well, for the moment it will have to, won’t it?’ Silke cut in heatedly. ‘I’m not about to stand here now and discuss something that’s probably not even a possibility.’ She felt far too vulnerable standing here in her bedroom wearing only her silky dressing-gown, especially as Lyon was fully dressed. ‘I suggest we just wait and see.’ She walked to the bedroom doorway, pointedly waiting for him to leave, breathing an inward sigh of relief when he at last left her bedroom. Even if it was only to come to an abrupt halt in her lounge!
‘I’ll wait here for you while you dress for dinner,’ he told her abruptly.
Silke gave a snort of disbelief. ‘You aren’t serious!’ She stared at him.
‘Would you rather I waited outside in my car?’
‘I would rather you just left; I have no intention of having dinner with you now!’ As if she could calmly sit across a table from him in a restaurant after what had just happened between them!
‘We still have things to talk about, Silke,’ he said grimly.
‘We’ve already discussed the possibility of my being pregnant—’
‘Not that,’ he dismissed impatiently. ‘That will become all too apparent in time. There’s still the problem of your mother and my uncle.’
Silke frowned, looking at him searchingly. ‘Is that the reason you invited me out to dinner?’ she said slowly.
He gave a curt nod. ‘The chances are they haven’t actually gone through with the wedding yet, and—’
‘I don’t believe you,’ she cut in forcefully, her hands clenched so tightly at her sides that her nails were digging into her palms. She had known there had to be a reason for his sudden invitation to dinner, but this! My God, did the man never give up? Obviously not. So much for his interest in seeing some of her jewellery designs in the right setting! ‘I hope they have, Lyon. I hope they’re already married and that there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it!’ She was so angry she could have hit him at that moment. ‘Get out, Lyon. Just get out,’ she added disgustedly.
‘You—’
‘Now, Lyon,’ she told him through gritted teeth, her eyes flashing warningly.
He looked at her broodingly for several long seconds, finally giving an angry snort. ‘You haven’t seen the last of me, Silke, even if my uncle comes to his senses and decides not to marry your mother after all—’
‘He’ll marry her,’ Silke said with defiant certainty.
He gave a dismissively disgusted shrug. ‘Then that will be his problem. But the two of us now have unfinished business, Silke, and—’
‘As far as you’re concerned it’s finished business, Lyon,’ she cut in vehemently.
He shook his head, his eyes glacial. ‘If there’s a child I’ll make it my business again, Silke.’ He strode purposefully to the door. ‘Count on it!’ he warned before leaving, closing the door forcefully behind him.
It sounded more like a threat than a promise!
And, knowing Lyon as she did, it probably was. Oh, God, please let there not be any repercussions from her stupidity.
The stupidity of loving Lyon Buchanan...
IT HAD been a long and difficult week, a week when Silke had done a lot of soul-searching. She hadn’t seen Lyon again since that evening at her flat, but the memory of it had never been far from her mind. In fact, it hadn’t been out of it!
And the week certainly hadn’t been helped by the fact that James had indeed ‘called’ her ‘tomorrow’; in fact he had done better than that, he had telephoned her at the agency before coming there to see her in person. And what he had to say to her hadn’t endeared him to her one little bit!
The only highlight of the week had been that her mother and Henry had actually managed to get married without any more interference from Lyon. A fact she was sure he was furious about! Not that the older couple looked at all troubled by that when they had returned from their honeymoon yesterday, the two of them obviously glowingly happy together.
But their return from their few days’ honeymoon had been done deliberately Silke had learned last night, Henry informing her that there was a board meeting today—during which he intended proposing that Buchanan’s look into the idea of introducing an exclusive jewellery department in their London branch!
Silke’s answer to that had been a definite no. And no amount of arguing on Henry’s part had managed to persuade her otherwise. Much to Henry’s chagrin. He had accused her of being ‘as stubborn as her mother had been at eighteen!’.
But Silke had no intention of being accused of nepotism by Lyon. Besides, she was being kept busy enough at the moment anyway. With her mother now married to Henry she had little interest in running the agency, wanted to spend time with her new husband, making sure he didn’t overdo things, and so Silke could run the agency for her. Until such time as she decided to sell it or close it down. And then Silke would rethink her future. As far away from Buchanan’s as possible!
Silke had known that Henry was far from happy with her refusal, but in the circumstances there was really little he could do about it. She wanted to stay as far away from Lyon in future as her mother’s marriage to his uncle would allow.
* * *
‘So we’re finally having dinner together.’
Silke drew in a deeply controlling breath. She hadn’t wanted to come to dinner with her mother and Henry this evening at all, had guessed Lyon would be a guest too, but had known she couldn’t refuse when her mother pointed out that it was their first dinner party they had given together as husband and wife, and that it would look very odd if her only child weren’t present. And so Silke had gritted her teeth and come to the dinner party. Only to find Lyon had arrived ahead of her, looking handsomely remote in a black dinner-suit and snowy white shirt.
It had been easy to avoid talking to him as they sipped their drinks before the meal, Henry eager to introduce his new family to his friends. And Silke had been only too happy
