Tall, Dark... Collection. Carole MortimerЧитать онлайн книгу.
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…
CHAPTER FOUR
‘—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 with it personally.’
That was the very last thing she wanted!
She leant back in her leather chair, every inch the businesswoman in her black trouser suit and white silk blouse. ‘Power dressing’ Robert had called it, but at twenty-nine, she knew she was considered very young to be the head of a publishing house, and she needed every edge she could get.
‘I’m sure you’re more than capable of dealing with it yourself, Perry.’ She smiled at him confidently as he sat across the desk from her, playing to his ego.
Perry was an ambitious man, who enjoyed his position as senior editor at this prestigious publisher; he would not like having his capabilities questioned.
‘Ordinarily, yes,’ he sighed. ‘But in this case I don’t have the first idea how to go about it. I want this manuscript very badly, want O’Reilly’s signature on a contract before he has the chance to change his mind or go to another publisher. But how am I supposed to go about that without telling the man I know exactly who he is? Worse, that I want the book published with Liam O’Reilly’s name on the cover? I don’t want to frighten him off.’
Her smile lacked humour this time. ‘He doesn’t sound the type that scares easily!’
‘Nevertheless, I still think personal input from you at any meeting with him would—’
‘Would give him completely the wrong impression of his own importance,’ she cut in sharply. ‘Perhaps the best thing would be to tell him you’re too busy to see him today, after all, Perry. It is very short notice, and—’
‘Laura, he’s asked to take the manuscript back to Ireland with him if we haven’t made him a definite offer by the end of today,’ Perry put in quietly, obviously reluctantly. And with very good reason.
Even as Reilly O’Shea—especially as Reilly O’Shea!—this author was behaving with extreme arrogance. New authors could often wait months to hear back from a publisher after submitting a manuscript: the fact that they had contacted Liam—through an impersonal post office box number of course!—after only a matter of weeks should have pleased him, not given him an over-inflated opinion of his own importance! But then, no matter what the author might claim to the contrary, this was Liam O’Reilly they were dealing with…
‘I know, I know!’ Perry stood up impatiently. ‘Your first instinct, as mine was, is probably to tell him to go to hell.’ He paced the room. ‘But I can feel the