to see the familiar features on her face. It wasn’t easy to control the feeling of panic that was creeping up on him, but he’d never been a coward and he refused to behave like one now. This woman had the power to disrupt Daniel’s life. If he had to conquer his own fears to ensure that wouldn’t happen, that was what he would do.
Owen’s gaze moved on as he made himself take stock of the glossy fall of honey-gold hair that swung around her shoulders. Her hair was very thick and straight, like a golden waterfall as it shimmered in the lights above the bar. When she bent over to take her purse out of her bag, he half reached towards her, curious to see if her hair felt as cool and as smooth as it looked, before he realised what he was doing.
His hand fell to his side and he breathed in sharply to clear his head. It didn’t matter how her hair felt. It only mattered how it looked, and it looked exactly the same as Daniel’s did, apart from its length. The sooner he accepted these similarities, the easier it would be to discount them. He couldn’t afford to focus on the resemblance between them otherwise he wouldn’t be able to separate himself emotionally from what needed to be done. He might not know anything about her, but he did know one thing: she was a threat.
She suddenly turned, and Owen felt a rush of panic assail him when her eyes locked with his. He wasn’t mentally prepared yet to speak to her and wasn’t sure what he should do. Should he introduce himself now, or should he wait a while longer?
‘Excuse me.’
Her voice was low, husky, and the hair on the back of his neck lifted when he heard it for the very first time. So far, they’d only communicated by letter—a terse little note from him suggesting they should meet, an even shorter reply from her, agreeing to the idea. He hadn’t thought about how she would sound, so it came as a shock to realise that he found the husky tones very appealing.
He stepped aside to let her pass, feeling goose-bumps break out all over his skin when she murmured her thanks. All of a sudden it felt as though there wasn’t enough air in the pub and he couldn’t breathe. He hurried to the door. His only thought was to escape from a situation that was turning out to be far more stressful than he’d anticipated it would be. But even as he reached for the handle he knew he couldn’t leave. Not yet. Not until he’d made her understand what was going to happen.
He took a deep breath, filled his lungs with the heavy, turgid air, then turned around. If ever there was a time when he needed to be in control of himself, it was now.
Rose found an empty table and sat down. Taking a cardboard coaster out of the ashtray, she carefully placed her glass on it. She really hadn’t wanted a drink. She’d bought it simply because it had been expected of her. When you went into a pub you bought a drink. That was it, all nice and tidy—unlike her life, which was turning into such a mess.
A spasm of dread shot through her and she picked up the glass and sipped a little of the wine, hoping it would steady her. Ever since she had agreed to this meeting she’d worried about what was going to happen. She’d gone over it in her head, time and time again, but it had been pure guesswork, of course.
She had no real idea what Owen Gallagher wanted to see her about, except that it had something to do with Daniel—the child she’d given up for adoption eighteen years ago. Not a day had gone by since then when she hadn’t thought about him, worried about him, wondered where he was and if he was happy. Was that what Owen Gallagher wanted to know—if she ever thought about the child she’d given away?
She hoped so, because it would be the easiest thing in the world to tell him the truth. She’d never stopped thinking about Daniel, had never stopped regretting the circumstances that had forced her to give him up. Even though she was sure that she’d made the right decision, she had many regrets, but was that really what Owen Gallagher wanted to hear? Or was there another reason why he’d contacted her?
Rose put the glass back on the coaster as her hand began to tremble. She’d refused to allow herself to go beyond this point before, refused to consider the idea that Daniel might be ill and that was why Gallagher had tracked her down. One read about such things all the time—mothers and the children they’d given away reunited through illness—but she couldn’t accept that was the reason for this meeting. She simply couldn’t bear to imagine that her precious child might be desperately ill…
She shot to her feet, unable to sit there while thoughts like that tormented her. Gallagher had asked her to meet him at seven o’clock and it was ten minutes past the hour now. Maybe he’d decided not to come? In that case, there was no point her sitting here in this noisy pub…
‘Ms Tremayne? I’m Owen Gallagher. Thank you for agreeing to meet me.’
All of a sudden he was standing in front of her and Rose gasped. ‘But I just bumped into you at the bar!’
‘Yes. Please, sit down.’
He gestured towards the chair she’d vacated. Rose sat, simply because she couldn’t think what else to do. Why hadn’t he introduced himself before? she wondered. Why had he stood there, staring at her that way?
Oh, she’d noticed him, of course. Who wouldn’t? Even in this crowd he stood out. Tall and dark, with the kind of cleanly hewn good looks that would have appealed to any woman, Owen Gallagher wasn’t a man one could ignore. She shot him a careful look as he sat down, taking note of the beautifully tailored grey suit, the crisp white shirt, the silk tie and aura of affluence that surrounded him, and shivered. He wasn’t a man to be ignored—or crossed, for that matter—and it wasn’t pleasant to wonder what he wanted with her.
‘I may as well get straight to the point, Ms Tremayne. Eighteen years ago my late wife and I adopted your son.’
‘Your late wife?’ Rose put in hurriedly. ‘You mean she’s dead?’
‘Yes. Laura died two years ago, after a long illness.’ He didn’t appear unduly upset about having to relay the news, but Rose had dealt with too many people who’d suffered a loss to take that at face value.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘It must have been a difficult time—for you and for Daniel.’
‘It was.’ Something flashed in his pewter-coloured eyes, a hint of surprise, possibly, because she’d realised that he was still grieving. Nevertheless, his tone was just as brisk when he continued.
‘Daniel was very close to his mother and Laura’s death was a massive blow to him. I think that’s what set him on his present course, in fact.’ He shrugged, his broad shoulders moving lightly under the expensive fabric. ‘If Laura had still been alive then I’m sure that things would have been very different today. Daniel certainly wouldn’t have got this ridiculous idea into his head about getting in touch with you.’
‘Getting in touch with me?’ Rose felt the room tilt and grasped hold of the table. Owen Gallagher had asked her to meet him not because their son was ill but because Daniel wanted to see her?
Her heart ricocheted around her chest as the thought sank in, although it wasn’t just the fact that Daniel had decided to contact her that shocked her. It was the way she had linked herself and Owen Gallagher together with that phrase: their son. It made her feel very odd, but she didn’t dwell on it because he was speaking again.
‘That’s right, and before we go any further, Ms Tremayne, I may as well tell you that I am totally opposed to the idea. You have played no part in Daniel’s life to this point and I cannot see any reason why you should play a part in it in the future. That’s why I wanted to see you tonight—so there would be no mistake about
