been busy.’
‘Too busy to make time to discuss our son’s future?’
The nonchalant question fired her blood. ‘There is nothing further to discuss.’
He didn’t answer that. ‘Nice office you’ve got here,’ he remarked instead. ‘And I hear you’re looking to move even higher within the company.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘You seem to forget that I’m a player in the publishing world myself. Let’s say I’ve got my ear to the ground.’
If ever there was an understatement, it was that. Marcus didn’t just ‘play’ at publishing: he ran one of the largest companies in Europe. Rossini House was massive; it owned some of the most well respected publishing firms in the business. Modern Times was very small fry compared to anything Marcus ran or was remotely interested in.
‘Well, I’m flattered that you’re taking such an interest in my career,’ she replied sardonically. ‘Obviously, you have a lot of spare time on your hands. Or is life just incredibly dull for you at the moment?’
‘Life’s pretty good, Gemma. Thank you for your concern,’ he replied smoothly, completely ignoring her sarcasm. ‘So what do you think your chances are of getting this promotion?’
‘I don’t know…I suppose I’m quietly confident.’ She frowned, wondering why he was asking her this.
‘If I remember rightly, you’re not bad at your job,’ he reflected.
‘Not bad?’ Her frown deepened. ‘Actually, I’m damn good at my job, as you well know. It’s the reason I was offered a job all those years ago at one of your companies.’
He regarded her steadily for a moment as if she were a piece of artwork he was thinking of buying. Her blonde hair was tied back in a schoolgirl ponytail, which showed the perfect proportions of her face, the high cheekbones, the soft, sensual curve of her lips, the large, vivid blue eyes. She wore light make-up but she didn’t need any; her skin was flawless and creamy.
Her body was still ripe perfection.
At twenty-nine, Gemma had hardly changed since the day she had first walked into his office five and a half years ago. ‘Your work wasn’t the only reason you were offered a job,’ he said with soft emphasis, then smiled as he saw a bright flush of colour light her skin.
‘I’m sure you haven’t come here to reminisce about old times, or ask about my work, so perhaps you had better just get to the point,’ she said, annoyed with herself for allowing that remark to unsettle her.
‘I think you know what the point is,’ he said quietly.
‘Liam is not going to live with you in Italy, so you may as well just give up on the idea and go away.’
‘Giving up isn’t an option, Gemma.’
She glanced beyond him towards the main office. People were looking over at them; curiosity was obviously rife out there. ‘You are causing a scene, Marcus, and I want you to go.’
‘Not until you’ve agreed to come out for dinner with me tomorrow.’
‘I can’t—’
‘Your mother informed me that she would gladly babysit for us, so what time shall I pick you up?’
‘Watch my lips, Marcus. I will not go out with you tomorrow. And where Liam lives is not up for discussion. He is staying with me.’
‘I’ll book a table at Bellingham’s for seven-thirty. How does that suit?’
‘You can get a table at Buckingham Palace for all I care. I still won’t be there.’
Why was he being so insistent about taking her out for dinner? she wondered furiously. Did he think that was the best place to tell her he was planning to get married? Gemma shivered at the thought…that was a bit too civilized for her taste.
She tried to return her attention to her work, to pretend he wasn’t there. And hoped he would just get the message and leave.
‘Is it always going to be like this between us?’
The softly spoken question made her look up. ‘Like what?’ she asked, puzzled.
‘Guns drawn at twenty paces.’ He gave a small smile.
‘That’s not fair, Marcus. I have always been very cooperative with you. I’ve let you see Liam whenever you want. Even at very short notice, I change my plans to fit in with your work schedule. I think I’ve been more than helpful—’
‘What about the fact that I don’t agree with the school you are sending him to in September?’ Marcus cut across her suddenly.
She frowned, the remark taking her by surprise. ‘There’s nothing wrong with that school. It’s close by—’
‘I don’t like it.’
‘What do you mean, you don’t like it? What would you know about it?’ she asked impatiently.
‘I just think we could send him somewhere better.’
‘You mean to a school with colossal fees?’ She shook her head angrily. ‘Just because a school costs a lot doesn’t—’
‘That’s not what I mean at all, Gemma.’
‘So what do you mean?’ she asked, and then promptly wished she hadn’t when she noticed the smile of satisfaction on Marcus’s face.
‘You see, we do have things to discuss.’
‘Discussing local schools is a very different proposition to discussing taking Liam out of the country completely,’ she said quickly.
‘Yes, but up to two minutes ago you didn’t even want to discuss local schools,’ Marcus pointed out coolly.
He was right; she didn’t. The simple fact was that she was scared of Marcus taking over completely. It was in the nature of the man: he was arrogant, and he was powerful. If she gave him even an inch he would take the whole nine yards. He thought he could say and have anything he wanted…and maybe he could, maybe that was really what scared her. He had always had the strangest effect on her. Just sitting this close to him across the desk made her heart rate increase, made her whole body turn to red alert. Having sensible, unemotional talks with Marcus was something she was incapable of doing.
‘I just want to be more involved in my son’s upbringing, Gemma. Is that such a bad thing?’
Gemma stared at him in exasperation. She couldn’t honestly say that it was.
‘But you don’t let me help you in any way—’
‘If you’re going to start talking about money, you can forget it, Marcus. We have been all through this subject before and I’ve told you I don’t want or need your help. I’m managing perfectly well by myself, and that’s how I like it.’
She
