‘Thanks.’ He smiled dismissively at the waiter as he arrived with the other cup and saucer. ‘Are you here on business or pleasure?’
Juliet looked up at him sharply as she realised that he was once again talking to her. ‘Business?’ she echoed tautly.
He shrugged broad shoulders, relaxing back in his chair. ‘There are plenty of business opportunities here. Even this hotel is up for sale.’
And she hardly looked in a position to buy one of the Carlyle hotels! ‘So I believe,’ she answered non-committally. ‘Is that why you’re here?’ she returned challengingly.
He shook his head. ‘This is purely a pleasure trip for me. I was just curious about you; you don’t look the usual type to book into an adventure playground like this one.’ He raised questioning brows at her.
Juliet bristled with indignation. What ‘type’ did she look? Oh, he was right, of course, but even so…!
And he hardly looked like the bored socialite in search of the sun—a description which seemed to fit most of the guests here. ‘It seemed like a good idea at the time.’ She shrugged dismissively.
Liam nodded. ‘Thinking about a holiday and actually taking one are two different things, aren’t they?’ he said drily.
‘But you’ve only just arrived here—I mean, I haven’t seen you around for the last week,’ she explained awkwardly, that colour back in her cheeks as she realised that she had given away the fact that he was the sort of man she would have noticed if she had seen him before. But she would have done; he was hardly the type of man to be overlooked in a crowd, let alone here at this hotel! Nevertheless, she felt a little embarrassed at having acknowledged the fact.
‘I arrived last night. As you said, it seemed like a good idea at the time,’ he added grimly. ‘Now I’m not so sure.’
‘You’ve hardly given yourself time,’ Juliet pointed out.
Liam looked at her over the rim of his coffeecup, having ignored the cream and sugar to drink it black. ‘How long have you been here?’ he drawled.
She shrugged. ‘Almost a week.’
‘And?’ He arched blond brows.
She suddenly realised the point he was making. ‘I didn’t come here with the intention of enjoying myself,’ she snapped irritably.
He sat back once again. ‘No? Then you are here on business?’
This man was altogether too curious, too probing, too damned direct! ‘Perhaps,’ she returned non-committally, trying the coffee once again, just wanting to drink it and be on her way back to her own suite of rooms.
‘I’m not that daunting, am I?’
She looked up sharply to find that Liam was watching her, amusement dancing in those deep blue eyes now as he looked pointedly at the halfempty cup in her hand. Juliet put the cup back in its saucer with a clatter. ‘I think I should get back to my suite now. I would like to shower and change before breakfast,’ she told him stiltedly.
He nodded. ‘Join me for lunch?’
She stiffened defensively. ‘No, I——’
‘We’re both on our own, Juliet,’ he cut in reasonably. ‘It’s ridiculous for the two of us to eat alone.’
She stood up abruptly, her hair falling loosely over her narrow shoulders, a blaze of red in the sunshine. ‘I prefer to eat alone, thank you,’ she snapped. ‘And I’m certainly not here for a pickup!’ She was breathing hard in her agitation.
Liam appeared unmoved by her outburst, looking at her consideringly. ‘I didn’t for one moment think that you were,’ he finally said softly.
Juliet gave him one last frowning look before turning on her heel and hurrying away across the garden to the main entrance of the hotel, very conscious as she did so that he was watching every step of her departure.
She began to breathe easily again once she was inside the reception area, although the haste of her steps didn’t lessen as she hurried over to the lift and waited impatiently for its arrival to the ground floor. Not that she thought for one moment that the man, Liam, would follow her; she just felt completely disturbed by the whole encounter, wanted to get to the privacy of her own suite as quickly as possible so that she could begin to relax her jangled nerves.
Not that Liam had been the first man to show some sort of interest in her since her arrival here. There had been several other single men in the complex who had obviously seen her as a prime target for a holiday romance, although she hadn’t thought any of them particularly had romance in mind, more like a bed-partner for the duration of their stay! But she hadn’t been interested in any of their overtures, and she certainly wasn’t interested in Liam’s either.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t an attractive man—she would be fooling herself if she didn’t acknowledge that—but she wasn’t interested in a relationship of any kind, of any duration, with anyone.
She had come here for quite a different reason, and after six days of waiting she had to accept that it had been a wasted journey. It had been made out of desperation anyway—a last-ditch attempt to locate and talk to Edward Carlyle before it was too late. The problem was that he had made it very clear that he didn’t want to talk to her, that he had nothing to say to her, and it had been a purely accidental comment, made by the secretary she had plagued for days for information of his whereabouts, which had made it possible for her to know that he would be on the island of Majorca at this time to meet a prospective buyer for his hotel. This hotel.
Instead of showering and changing as she had said she was going to she lay on the bed staring up at the pristine white ceiling. Time was running out, and she just didn’t know what to do to stop everything collapsing around her ears. Edward Carlyle was the key, she knew that, but she also knew he had every intention of letting things collapse.
She had never met the man, but she knew of him from his father, William, knew that the two men had argued years before, with Edward leaving the family and the family business with a vow never to return to either. And now that family business was in danger of falling. Without Edward Carlyle’s intervention, that was exactly what it was going to do. And so far he had proved impervious to her request that the two of them should meet to discuss the matter.
She had been stunned when on William’s death two months ago, his will had revealed that he had left Carlyle Properties jointly between Juliet and his remaining son Edward, his younger son having died several years earlier. As William’s personal assistant Juliet obviously knew how to run the company, but with a completely joint ownership between herself and Edward Carlyle, an exact fiftyfifty split, it was impossible for her to make any major decisions without the approval of the other partner. And Edward Carlyle refused even to acknowledge her letters, let alone come to England and talk over the running of the business.
It was deliberate, Juliet was sure of that. She knew that even though his father was now dead Edward Carlyle must still harbour feelings of anger towards William, that the family rift was still there despite the death of one of the participants. Edward Carlyle was going to let his father’s property business fail simply by being indifferent to its existence!
Obviously, with the success of his own chain of exclusive hotels all over
