Marcus said coolly. ‘How about having dinner with me next Friday night? Will your mother babysit?’
‘Dinner?’ Gemma looked at him as if he’d gone mad. ‘No, she wouldn’t.’
‘Okay, I’ll come over to you, then.’
‘Marcus, that isn’t convenient.’
‘I’ll ring you later in the week to confirm.’ Marcus’s voice was steely.
Gemma was going to tell him flatly not to waste his time but Liam was watching and listening intently. So she just reached to take hold of the child’s hand. ‘Goodbye, Marcus,’ she said with as much cold finality in her voice as she could muster.
Marcus watched as she walked away from him across the grass, her long hair swinging glossily behind her in the softness of the breeze, her back ramrod straight.
Liam was skipping beside her and kept turning to wave at him but Gemma did not look back.
But she would do as he wanted, Marcus told himself grimly. By the time he had finished she would be begging him to compromise and he would have her exactly where he wanted her: back in his life.
CHAPTER TWO
GEMMA groaned and put the letter down on the table, pulling a hand distractedly through her long hair. ‘This is all I need!’
‘What’s the matter?’ Her mother walked into the kitchen just at that moment. ‘It’s not a letter from Marcus’s lawyer, is it? This custody battle isn’t going to court?’
‘No!’ Gemma looked over at her mother, horrified by the words. ‘There is no custody battle, Mum. Marcus is trying his luck, that’s all. He won’t dare go to court because he knows he’ll lose.’
Her mother didn’t look convinced. ‘Marcus has never struck me as a man afraid of losing,’ she said curtly.
The words were not what Gemma needed to hear. She was desperately trying to convince herself that this problem with Marcus would sort itself out, that he would change his mind before things started to get nasty.
‘What’s in the letter?’ her mother asked now.
‘It’s from the letting agency, informing me that the landlord is putting this house up for sale. They’ve invited me to make an offer, as he will give me first refusal, apparently.’
‘Would you be able to afford it?’
‘They haven’t said how much he wants for it, but I doubt it. The houses in this square are going for a fortune these days.’
‘I suppose you’ve done well getting it for such a low rent for all these years. I don’t know how you’ve managed it. Your friend Jane is paying twice as much for her small flat.’
‘Yes, I suppose it was too good to last.’ Gemma had thought her luck was really in when she had found this place. It was a large Georgian house close to her publishing job in the heart of London and within walking distance of her mother’s house. Fully furnished with the most exquisite antiques, there was even a large office where she could work. The rent had been preposterously low but apparently the landlord’s main concern was to have a good tenant who would look after the property, as it had once been his mother’s home. ‘I thought he might bump up the rent one day but somehow I didn’t expect him to sell,’ Gemma reflected sadly.
She watched as her mother lifted the letter and shook her head in dismay. ‘Maybe you could ask Marcus for some help to buy the place,’ she suggested tentatively. ‘I’m sure he would—’
‘No, Mum.’ Gemma turned and opened the kitchen door to call up the stairs to Liam. ‘Liam, your nana is here to take you to nursery.’
‘A house like this would be nothing to a man of Marcus’s wealth and he is always offering you financial assistance,’ her mother continued determinedly as if Gemma had said nothing. ‘I don’t know why you keep turning him down. You’re so damn stubborn sometimes—’
‘Mum, I am not going to ask Marcus for help.’ Gemma put on the jacket of her smart black business suit and checked her keys were in her bag. She was running late and she had a stressful day at work ahead of her: she didn’t want to think about Marcus, let alone talk about him. ‘He’s the man who wants to take Liam away from me, remember? The last thing I’ll do is go to him cap in hand.’
‘It doesn’t need to be like that. Marcus is a decent enough man, and I’m sure—’
‘You can’t be sure of anything where Marcus is concerned. And I don’t need his help. I’ll manage,’ Gemma said positively before going out into the hall to call upstairs again. ‘Liam, Mummy will be late for work.’
Joanne Hampton followed her daughter out into the hall. ‘How will you manage?’ she persisted. ‘The cost of living in London is going through the roof, Gemma. You have to be practical. It’s hard being a single parent.’
‘I’ve got a good job, Mum,’ Gemma reminded her patiently. ‘And I’m in line for promotion again. If I get this new job, who knows, maybe I will be able to put in a bid for this house.’ As she spoke she swallowed down nervous anticipation. She did have a good job and her career had been going from strength to strength over these last few years. She had worked her way through the various editorial departments of Modern Times, a glossy monthly magazine, and had been made deputy editor last year. Now she was up for consideration for editor because Susan Kershaw, the present editor, was leaving.
Everyone said she stood a very good chance of getting the top job. She was talented and she was driven. Even Gemma was quite confident that she could outperform the competition. Circulation of the magazine was up and she had more than proven herself over the last year. In fact, she had been feeling quite relaxed about the whole thing until rumours of a take-over bid for the magazine had started a few weeks ago. And suddenly her rosy picture for the future had developed a few disturbing black clouds.
No one was certain who had made the take-over bid, but if it was successful there might be redundancies. The first to go would be the top jobs, as the new company were likely to want to put their own key people in.
But even if she lost her job she would walk into another one, she told herself confidently. She had a great CV.
All right, maybe she wouldn’t earn enough to buy a house as beautiful and in such a good area as this, but she could afford to rent something decent around here. And as long as she maintained her independence and a nice way of life for Liam, that was all that mattered.
Gemma glanced towards the stairs again. ‘Liam, I’m going to come up in a minute,’ she warned.
‘What’s he doing up there?’ her mother asked.
‘Playing with a train set Marcus bought for him last week. The tracks are all the way around his bed.’
Joanne smiled. ‘He’s a good man. Gemma, why don’t you go out for dinner with him tomorrow night. I’ve been thinking about it and the pair of you should sit down and talk about Liam’s future, work this custody matter out. I’ll babysit for you.’
‘There’s nothing to work out,’ Gemma insisted. Marcus had rung several times that week and had
