what had happened, she had her answer ready. She hadn’t asked him to touch her, and he’d had no right to treat her with so little respect. Heavens, he still thought she’d never been married. Goodness knew what he might have done if he’d known the truth.
If only there was some way to get away from here. If she had a car, for instance—or the use of a phone—she wouldn’t have had to stand there like a fool, waiting for him to remember he had a guest. As it was, she was dependent on him for a phone, both to ring for transport and to call her mother. She disliked being beholden to him for anything after what had happened.
Liam sighed. This was a new experience for him, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit. When he needed a woman, he found one who knew what she was doing. He’d never brought any woman here before, never done anything to violate the atmosphere of his home.
Until now.
Swallowing his pride, he said stiffly, ‘I know you’re not going to believe me, but I don’t do this sort of thing—’
He would have continued, but Rosa broke in before he could say anything else. ‘You’re right,’ she said tersely. ‘I don’t believe you, Mr Jameson. I may be naïve, but you can’t tell me you’ve never taken advantage of a woman before.’
‘Dammit!’ Liam caught his breath. ‘I didn’t take advantage of you,’ he exclaimed impatiently. ‘If I had, you’d know it, and you don’t.’ He paused. ‘And call me Liam, for God’s sake. You don’t know how ridiculous you sound, calling me Mr Jameson after what just happened. You may still be a virgin, but I’m not.’
That was unforgivable, but he’d had it with trying to humour her. And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t played some part in the affair. Some part in his downfall, he amended grimly. He wasn’t going to forget this in a long time.
‘Oh, I’m sure everything about me seems ridiculous to you,’ Rosa retorted, stung by his unfair criticism. ‘But for your information I have been married, Mr Jameson. I divorced my ex-husband over three years ago.’
Liam stared blankly at her. ‘You’ve been married?’ he echoed disbelievingly.
‘For five years,’ she agreed, glad she’d been able to shock him at last.
‘You don’t look old enough.’
‘Well, I am. I’m thirty-two, Mr Jameson. Quite old enough, I assure you.’
Liam was surprised. And disgruntled. He’d put her down as being no more than twenty-five. But he was most disturbed by the way this news affected him. If he’d known how old she really was, and that she’d been married…
But he mustn’t go there. Wasn’t it enough that he’d made a bloody fool of himself and created an awkward situation for himself into the bargain?
‘Look,’ he said, tight-lipped, ‘let’s agree that we’ve both made some mistakes here. I shouldn’t have grabbed you, I admit it. But you shouldn’t have made me so mad that I forgot what I was doing.’
Rosa wanted to argue that she hadn’t been the one who’d brought her here, that if he’d been honest right from the beginning none of this would have happened. But a reluctant awareness that she hadn’t exactly put up much of a fight kept her silent, and when she finally spoke it was to say, ‘Would it be all right if I used your phone, then?’
Liam knew a most inappropriate desire to laugh. Her words were so unexpected, so prosaic, as if all they’d been doing for the past half-hour was discussing the weather. But he had the sense to realise that humour would definitely not go down very well at this moment, and with a careless lift of his shoulders he said, ‘Why not?’
‘Thanks.’ Rosa hoped she sounded sincere. ‘I just want to ring my mother again.’
Liam arched dark brows. ‘And tell her your sister’s not here?’
‘Yes.’
‘Okay.’ He nodded towards the desk where the phone was situated. ‘Be my guest.’
Rosa hesitated for a moment, feeling awkward now. ‘Um—perhaps I could ring for a taxi at the same time?’ she ventured. ‘What was it you called that man?’
‘McAllister?’
Rosa nodded.
‘No need.’ Liam started for the door, trying to hide the fact that his leg was protesting at the sudden activity. ‘Sam’s driving over to the village later this morning. You can go with him.’
Rosa wasn’t sure she wanted that. Sam Devlin hadn’t exactly welcomed her here. ‘If it’s just the same to you, I’ll call McAllister,’ she murmured, wishing she didn’t have to ask. ‘I don’t want to put anyone out.’
Liam paused now, half turning to face her, his brows drawing together above those piercing green eyes. ‘What’s Sam been saying to you?’
‘Oh—nothing.’ And it was true. ‘I’d just—prefer to make my own arrangements.’
Liam regarded her broodingly. ‘So you don’t want any advice on where to stay?’
‘Well—yes.’ Rosa hadn’t thought of that. ‘That would be useful.’
‘Okay.’ Liam reached for the door. ‘I’ll have Sam give you an address.’ He pulled the door open, trying not to drag his foot as he moved into the aperture. ‘Take your time. There’s no hurry.’
‘Oh, but—’
‘Yes?’
His response was clipped, and Rosa, who had been about to ask if he’d injured his leg, changed her mind. ‘You—haven’t given me Mr McAllister’s number,’ she said, with sudden inspiration, and Liam frowned.
‘I can’t remember it off-hand. I’ll have Sam give you that, too. After you’ve rung your mother.’
And wasn’t Sam going to wonder why she’d refused to drive back to the village with him? But, ‘Okay,’ she said weakly. ‘Thanks.’
‘No problem.’ Liam was eager now to put this unfortunate interlude behind him. ‘Have a good trip back.’
‘Oh—’ Once again, Rosa detained him. ‘I mean—I will see you again before I leave?’
It had been an inane question, bearing in mind that he’d just wished her a good trip, but, conversely, now that the time had come, Rosa was curiously loath to leave him.
Liam sighed, leaning heavily on the door for support. ‘You’re not going to tell me you’ll be sorry to go, are you?’ he asked flatly. ‘Because, quite frankly, I’d find that hard to believe.’
Rosa met his mocking gaze defensively. Then, to her dismay, she found herself saying, ‘I suppose you’ll be glad to see the back of me?’
Liam took an audible gulp of air. How was he supposed to answer that?
‘Pretty much,’ he admitted at last. Then, seeing her expression, he added, ‘You’re too much of a distraction.’
