lights were on in the house when she let herself in a few minutes later and went straight to the kitchen, where she knew Amy Faulkner, her housekeeper, would be sitting drinking tea and watching television while she waited for Laura to return home.
Short, plump and homely, aged in her mid-fifties, Amy had been Robert’s housekeeper for almost twenty years when he and Laura were married. The older woman had welcomed Laura into the house as if she were the daughter she’d never had, and the two of them had got on from the beginning. Laura had been more than grateful for the other woman’s presence this last couple of years.
The housekeeper smiled at her warmly now as she stood up to turn down the sound on the predicted television programme. ‘Had a good evening, Mrs Shipley?’
Good? That wasn’t quite the way Laura would have chosen to describe it!
‘It was just business, Amy,’ she responded. ‘How’s everything been here?’
The older woman smiled. ‘Wonderful. He’s been fast asleep since before you went out. Not a sound out of him.’
Laura nodded distractedly. ‘I think I’ll just pop upstairs and check on him before going to bed myself. Thanks for taking over at such short notice this evening, Amy.’ She smiled her gratitude.
‘Any time, Laura. You know that,’ the other woman told her gently. ‘I know it can’t be easy for you. And he’s absolutely fine with me, you know.’
‘I do know.’ She squeezed Amy’s arm gratefully. ‘But thank you anyway.’
She made sure she was as quiet as possible going up the stairs, not wanting to wake him, moving with sure steps to the bedroom that adjoined her own.
A nightlight gave a warm glow to the room, allowing Laura to find her way without bumping into or stepping on anything to the rocking-chair that stood beside the bed.
She sat down in the rocking-chair, tears of love welling up in her eyes as she looked down at the sleeping figure in the bed.
Only his head and shoulders were actually visible above the bedcovers, the shoulders narrow, the mouth slightly open in sleep. Dark lashes fanned out over cheeks that glowed pale in the half-light, the hair dark and softly curling against the pillow.
Robert Shipley.
Junior, she inwardly added warmly. He always insisted on the ‘Junior.’
But to all who loved him he was Bobby.
Seven years old. Black-haired. Blue-eyed. Mischievous. With a bright enquiring mind.
He was the absolute love of Laura’s life…
He was also the reason that her private life had to be kept strictly that, where Liam O’Reilly was concerned.
Because Mary O’Reilly, Liam’s mother, although in complete ignorance of the fact, already had her much-wanted grandson.
Except his name wasn’t O’Reilly. And it never would be.
Even though Bobby was undoubtedly Liam O’Reilly’s son…
‘—SAYS he wants to come in for a meeting.’
Laura stared up at Perry with unseeing eyes. She hadn’t heard anything more he said since he’d come into her office a few minutes ago and actually told her that Liam had rung him this morning.
She swallowed hard. ‘Sorry, Perry, what did you say?’ She frowned in an effort to concentrate.
She hadn’t slept well at all last night, with thoughts going round and round in her head, but none of them really going anywhere.
For over seven years, since she had decided to marry Robert, she had lived in dread of Liam somehow walking back into her life, of his taking one look at Bobby and trying to claim him for his own. Something she would never, ever allow. Liam had given up any rights to his son when he had callously walked out of her life eight years ago.
Of course there was no way he could have known she was pregnant when he left; she hadn’t known it herself then. But if Liam had bothered, just once, to contact her, she could have told him the two of them were expecting a child.
Instead, she had read in the newspapers of his marriage to another woman!
Pregnant, alone, terrified, she had hated him with a vengeance, never wanted to set eyes on him ever again.
Time had dulled those feelings, of course. Not least because Robert had been a wonderful husband and father. She owed him everything that she had become.
As time had passed Liam O’Reilly had become a thing of the past, an interlude in her life she could look back at with a certain amount of embarrassment. In retrospect, she could see she had thrown herself at him, had refused to read the signs that would have told her the feelings she’d had for him weren’t reciprocated.
Which didn’t mean she considered Liam completely blameless in what had ultimately happened; he had done nothing to stop their relationship becoming an intimate one. And being able to look at the situation with adult eyes didn’t mean she had forgiven him, or that she ever wanted to see him again either!
But there had been no way she could just ignore that manuscript when Perry had first shown it to her three weeks ago. He was her senior editor and had been presented with a brilliant manuscript, even though he hadn’t known the real identity of the author then. He had brought that manuscript to Laura for her immediate attention. There had been no way, without arousing Perry’s extreme curiosity, that she could have just ignored it. Even though she had guessed from the first chapter just who the author was!
‘Liam O’Reilly has decided to go back to Ireland later this evening,’ Perry repeated patiently. ‘He wants to come in and talk about a contract before he leaves.’
‘Reilly O’Shea,’ she corrected lightly, giving herself necessary time to think.
Liam wanted to come here. He might ask to meet the head of Shipley Publishing!
Her.
‘What did you tell him?’ she asked Perry cautiously.
‘That I have a really busy schedule for today, but that I’ll call him back.’
Liam had decided to go back to Ireland. Why? She didn’t believe for a moment that it had anything to do with their unsatisfactory meeting—from Liam’s point of view, that was!—the evening before.
His reasons for leaving London earlier than expected were actually irrelevant; what was important was that his change of plans meant he wanted to come here. Today.
She drew in a sharp breath, determinedly businesslike. ‘Are you and David—’ her rights manager ‘—ready to talk contracts with him?’
Perry hesitated. ‘Depends who we’re talking to, doesn’t it?’ He frowned, shaking his head. ‘This is a really tricky situation, Laura. I’m not sure that you shouldn’t deal
