Carole Mortimer Romance Collection. Carole Mortimer

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open room, its general clutter fitting the rustic image.

      Liam went to the fridge and began to take out salad stuff and cold meats and cheeses. This obviously really was his retreat from the outside world, a place where he was completely alone. Usually. But unfortunately, Juliet knew, her presence here meant nothing; Liam really was adamant about Carlyle Properties.

      They worked together in silence preparing the meal, taking their laden plates back outside to sit beside the pool and eat the food.

      ‘And I expect you to eat that,’ Liam warned as she picked at the food on her plate. ‘By the look of you, someone should have taken you in hand years ago!’ He ate his own food with obvious enjoyment.

      Juliet looked at him impatiently. ‘Not only are you thoughtless, you’re arrogant too!’

      He grinned at her unconcernedly. ‘It has been said,’ he acknowledged with a nod.

      A man in his position could probably afford to be arrogant, but Juliet found it more than a little unnerving being ordered about in this way. She and William had always worked as a team and since his death she had been the one giving orders, to household and company staff alike.

      ‘The house,’ she said abruptly. ‘What do you want me to do with that?’

      Liam’s eyes narrowed. ‘As far as I’m aware that was left to you,’ he dismissed harshly.

      So he had read the letters sent to him by the lawyers, and probably hers too, even if he had chosen to ignore them! Which proved that he wasn’t quite as unconcerned about his father as he liked to appear.

      She shrugged. ‘It’s your family home——’ She broke off as she saw the darkening anger on his face. ‘It’s called Carlyle House, Liam,’ she reasoned.

      ‘Then change its name. Or your own,’ he rasped. ‘It’s something I should have done myself years ago!’

      ‘I——’

      ‘Wine.’ He stood up abruptly. ‘We should have some wine with this,’ he announced before striding back into the villa.

      Juliet stared after him. He really was the most difficult man to understand. In fact, she wasn’t even bothering to try any more! One minute he was civil and the next he was on the attack again. Admittedly, the attacks only came when the conversation veered on to his family, but considering that was all they really had to talk about it was a strain, to say the least!

      She wordlessly took the glass of wine he handed her a few minutes later, sipping gratefully at the golden liquid.

      ‘Eat,’ he instructed harshly.

      She looked at him over the rim of her wine glass. ‘Liam——’

      ‘Just eat, Juliet,’ he said impatiently. ‘I didn’t ask for you to come to Majorca, to seek me out— and too much of that wine on an empty stomach and I’m likely to have a drunken woman on my hands!’

      He really was the most insulting man! She had never been drunk in her life, rarely touched alcohol, in fact, and Liam certainly had no right to imply that she was going to get drunk on one glass of wine.

      Thoughtless. Difficult. Arrogant. Insulting. He had been all four of those already this afternoon, was there anything nice to say about this man?

      She didn’t look at him again as she ate some of the food, defiantly taking sips of the wine in between eating, realising after a while, and two refills of her glass of wine later, that she was actually starting to feel a little light-headed. The long drive on unfamiliar roads, too much heat and sun, followed by the tension of trying to talk to Liam, she excused herself. It certainly had nothing to do with the wine!

      ‘How long have you owned this villa?’ She decided to try polite conversation again.

      ‘Long enough,’ Liam returned tersely.

      So much for polite conversation! Why bother? she asked herself dismissively.

      ‘I only asked,’ she muttered, taking another sip of the wine.

      ‘And I only answered,’ he returned abruptly.

      ‘Not exactly,’ she challenged.

      ‘How “exactly” did you want me to answer?’ he derided. ‘Do you just want a year-month approximation of how long I’ve owned the villa, or do you want to know to the day?’

      ‘Oh, just forget it,’ Juliet snapped. ‘It wasn’t important anyway.’

      ‘Then why ask?’ he said scornfully.

      ‘I thought one of us should try to be polite,’ she returned scathingly. ‘Obviously only one of us is capable of it!’

      Liam shrugged unconcernedly. ‘Obviously only one of us needs to be.’

      Juliet drew in an angry breath; he was insulting to the point of rudeness! He didn’t know her, didn’t really know anything about her—except what he chose to make up in his more than fertile mind!— and he had no right to speak to her like this.

      ‘I’ve had enough.’ She put her plate, most of the food still on it, back on the table with her empty wine glass next to it. This had been a waste of her time, as well as his!

      ‘I think we both have,’ he acknowledged grimly. ‘You’ve brought something back into my life that I would rather forget about, Juliet,’ he bit out.

      She looked at him with wide accusing eyes. ‘You can’t forget about your own father!’

      ‘Why not?’ His eyes glittered, deeply blue. ‘He forgot about me for ten years!’

      ‘William is dead, Liam,’ she said in exasperation, tears in her eyes now as she thought of the loss of the man who had cared for her so much. ‘Dead!’ she repeated forcefully. ‘You can’t retain bitterness towards someone who’s dead!’

      He shook his head. ‘I stopped feeling bitterness towards him a long time ago. In fact, I stopped feeling anything towards him a long time ago!’ he added harshly.

      Juliet stared at him for several long, seemingly timeless minutes, unable to reconcile inside herself the feelings Liam had for a man who had shown her nothing but tender kindness. And no matter what Liam said he did show bitterness towards his father. She knew that emotion only too well herself not to recognise it, but she had never felt it towards William.

      ‘I think I had better go,’ she finally said quietly, standing up.

      Liam looked up at her, squinting in the bright sunshine. ‘You haven’t booked your flight yet,’ he pointed out softly.

      And now that she had stood up she wasn’t sure she was capable of doing so, or of driving down to Palma; her head had started to spin, unaccustomed to wine with little food. God, the last thing she wanted to do, after bristling so indignantly at the suggestion that she might get drunk, was let Liam know that she really didn’t feel too well!

      She shook her head, trying to think clearly. ‘I can do that when I get to Palma,’ she parried, just wanting to get away from here

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