Читать книгу To Have A Husband - Кэрол Мортимер, Carole Mortimer - Страница 9

HIS visual attention concentrated on Rome Summer, Quinn felt rather than saw the female lawyer’s reaction to what he’d just said. She’d stiffened defensively, as if, instead of merely stating the name of the man who was hounding his sister, he had actually personally insulted her.

He turned to her, to find her gaze fixed on Rome Summer, angrily, accusingly.

Quinn shook his head as he turned away, mentally dismissing the woman, and her…relationship, with his host; it was none of his business if she chose to be the plaything of a rich and influential man. He was here to sort out the complex and potentially damaging situation Corinne was caught in the middle of.

‘Richard Heaton…’ Rome repeated hardly.

Quinn nodded. ‘Do you know him?’ With all of Rome’s business interests, it wouldn’t be so surprising if he didn’t; efficient as he thought himself, Quinn couldn’t claim to know all of his employees, either!

‘Not personally, no,’ Rome answered curtly. ‘But I have heard of him,’ he added.

Causing the woman Harrie to give the older man another sharp look, Quinn noticed irritably. Beautiful as she was, he hadn’t wanted her here in the first place—and she’d done little since that time to warrant him changing that opinion!

‘Really?’ she prompted softly now, her emerald gaze narrowed on her employer.

Rome returned that probing gaze unflinchingly. ‘Really,’ he drawled mockingly. ‘Surprised?’ he added tauntingly.

The woman swallowed noticeably, looking slightly pale, Quinn noted curiously, giving him the definite impression that there was something going on in this conversation that he had no part of. But whatever it was, he, for one, certainly didn’t have the time for their games.

‘I—’

‘Could we get back to the subject?’ Quinn rasped his impatience over the top of what Harrie had been about to say. ‘The subject being that Richard Heaton is blackmailing your sister into giving him an edge on any political stories she might have access to, both now and in the future, in exchange for not making public her own past indiscretion?’ Rome stated bluntly.

This man was as forthright as he was himself, Quinn realised ruefully. But by the same token, he winced inwardly, in this case, a little softening of the truth might have been welcome. After all, it was his sister the two of them were discussing.

‘That is a very strong accusation to make, Mr McBride,’ Harrie put in coldly. ‘Blackmail of this kind is definitely a prosecutable offence. But, by the same token, so is slander. In which case, Mr McBride, I hope that you’re sure of your facts?’ she asked harshly, staring at him with glittering green eyes.

Quinn realised she was Rome’s legal advisor, but, nevertheless, he wished she would stop interrupting! There were only the three of them in the room, for God’s sake; who, if it should emerge that what he was telling them wasn’t the truth—which it most certainly was!—was going to make that claim of slander?

‘I’m very sure of my facts,’ he told her with dismissive contempt. ‘And I’m hoping that, between the two of us—’ he turned back to Rome ‘—we may be able to do something about it?’ It was a question, but at the same time it was also a plea for the other man’s help.

Which didn’t sit too well on his usually capably independent shoulders, Quinn acknowledged ruefully. Although he had a feeling that Harrie would claim that independence was actually arrogance!

Oh, damn what the woman thought of him, he told himself impatiently. She was beautiful, yes, but she was also the mistress of Rome Summer—which, in his eyes, nullified her legal capabilities in this instance. Even if they should turn out to be excellent. Which was yet to be proved…

‘Even if what you claim should turn out to be the truth, exactly what is it you expect Rome to do about the situation?’ she persisted in claiming his attention.

Much to Quinn’s increasing chagrin! In his experience, lawyers were there to advise when asked for that advice, and if not they remained silent until consulted. Rome’s personal relationship with this woman had given her an arrogance of her own that was completely intrusive in this particular situation.

Quinn gave her a humourless smile. ‘I think that’s for Rome and myself to decide—don’t you?’ he prompted insultingly.

She drew in a sharp breath as that insult registered, turning to her employer. ‘I strongly advise you not to become any more deeply involved in this situation until we have had chance to look into it ourselves,’ she told Rome stiltedly.

‘There’s nothing to talk about, darling,’ Rome murmured apologetically before turning to Quinn. ‘And I believe I already have an idea that may be the solution to your problem.’ He stood up to stroll over to the tray of drinks that stood on the dresser. ‘Tea is all well and good,’ he said lightly, ‘but sometimes something a little stronger is required; can I get you a whisky, Quinn?’ he offered, holding up the bottle of twelve-year-old malt.

Ordinarily, he would have refused, rarely indulging in the stuff, and never when he was working. But this wasn’t work as such, and he was invited for dinner…

‘Thanks,’ he accepted, becoming more convinced by the moment that Rome was going to help him in this situation. ‘Just a small one. No ice or water,’ he added as he relaxed back in his chair. They were both more than capable men; he was sure that between the two of them—Harrie’s aggravating presence excluded!—they could come up with a way to put an end to Corinne’s difficulty. They had better; he’d assured his sister that they would!

‘Harrie?’ Rome offered smoothly.

‘No—thank you,’ she refused stiffly, her cheeks bright red now where minutes ago they had been unnaturally pale, her hands tightly clasped together on her primly set knees. ‘Rome, I really think—’

‘I already know what you think, Harrie,’ Rome cut in gently, stepping forward to hand Quinn his drink before moving forward and lightly placing his free hand on one of Harrie’s tensed shoulders. ‘But Quinn is telling the truth, darling,’ he murmured huskily. ‘He—’

‘I don’t believe you—or him!’ Harrie stood up abruptly, moving away from that restraining hand to include Quinn in her angry glare, her body rigid with fury now as she faced the two of them across the room. ‘I simply do not believe Richard is capable of doing the things he has been accused of here today!’ she stated coldly, her head raised haughtily.

If anything she was even more beautiful in her anger, Quinn acknowledged abstractly. Totally wrong in her summing up of the situation, of course, but extremely beautiful, her eyes flashing like emeralds, an attractive flush to her cheeks, her breasts pert beneath the tailored suit, her legs long and shapely. Beautiful, and desirable. Although Quinn had never questioned why Rome was involved with her, only the sense of mixing business with pleasure. Even with a woman as beautiful as Harrie…

And the question also remained, why was she so angry?

Although the answer to that seemed to lie in the way she’d claimed Richard wasn’t capable of the things he’d been accused of today…

Quinn’s eyes narrowed on her, giving her the second reassessment of the afternoon. The first had been when he’d realised she was the lawyer Rome had previously spoken of. The second was the realisation that she knew Richard Heaton. The question was, how well did she know him? Well enough to claim his innocence, it seemed.

He looked curiously at the older man, wondering if Rome had already known of Harrie’s friendship with the young reporter. Because he certainly couldn’t be in any doubt about it now!

‘Then you would be wrong, Harrie,’ Rome told her sadly. ‘I’m afraid Richard Heaton is guilty of everything Quinn has accused him of today. And much more,’ he added with distaste. ‘Darling, I’m sorry you’ve had to hear the truth about him in this particular way, but—’

‘Now that I definitely don’t believe,’ she cut in with a bitter laugh. ‘You’re enjoying every moment of this! How long have you known?’ she prompted hardly, eyes narrowed accusingly on the older man.

‘Harrie, I’m sure Quinn isn’t in the least interested in listening to our personal business—’

‘I’m not sure I believe that, either!’ She turned to once again include Quinn in her furious glare, scornfully taking in his relaxed pose in the armchair, the partially drunk glass of whisky he held in his hand. ‘You’ve drawn some pretty damning conclusions yourself here this afternoon, Mr McBride,’ she told him disgustedly. ‘All of which are totally wrong,’ she added with satisfaction, a contemptuous twist to her red-painted lips. ‘I sincerely hope—for your sake!—that the things you’ve said about Richard Heaton aren’t as erroneous!’

Quinn stiffened in his chair, slowly sitting up straighter, his own eyes narrowed now as he sat forward in his seat. ‘That sounds decidedly like a threat…?’ he murmured slowly.

She was breathing deeply in her agitation. ‘I—’

‘Take care, Harrie,’ Rome cut in gently. ‘Quinn is a guest in my home,’ he reminded her softly.

For a few brief moments she continued to glare at the two men, and then with an obvious visible effort, she forced herself to relax, to calm down, although the coldly angry look remained on her beautiful face.

‘So he is,’ she finally murmured gratingly. ‘Fortunately, I’m not—so I’ll take this opportunity to remove myself. That way you can continue this character assassination of Richard Heaton without fear of interruption!’ she added disgustedly.

‘Harrie—’

‘Rome,’ she came back coldly, bending to pick up the shoulder bag she’d put down earlier.

The older man sighed. ‘Will you be back down tomorrow?’

Now Quinn did feel as if he were intruding. The last thing he wanted was to be witness to a man of Rome Summer’s wealth and power grovelling apologetically to his mistress—especially when, as far as Quinn could see, the beautiful Harrie was the one who was in the wrong!

Quinn stood up. ‘Perhaps I should leave the two of you to talk—’

‘That won’t be necessary, Mr McBride,’ Harrie cut in derisively. ‘Rome and I have said all we have to say to each other—for the moment,’ she added warningly for Rome Summer alone. ‘And I have no idea when I’ll be back, Rome,’ she answered him.

‘Are you going to Richard Heaton?’ the older man demanded gratingly.

Harrie’s head went up challengingly. ‘And if I am?’

Rome gave an inclination of his head. ‘Then I advise you to remember that you agreed the conversation we’ve had here today would be confidential,’ he reminded softly.

Green eyes glittered like twin jewels. ‘Now who’s the one making threats?’

Rome shrugged. ‘That’s only your interpretation of what I said, darling.’ He sighed. ‘I was merely reminding you not to let your personal feelings cloud your professional judgement.’

Harrie gave a humourless laugh. ‘Personal feelings?’ she echoed scornfully. ‘I didn’t know I was allowed to have any of those—at least, none that don’t include the Summer family! But to set your mind at rest, Rome, I am well aware of my professional obligations to you,’ she assured him disgustedly before turning to Quinn. ‘Just one more question, Mr McBride…?’

He met her gaze unblinkingly. ‘Yes?’

‘Going on a hypothetical assumption that the things you’ve said about Richard are true,’ she bit out scornfully, leaving them in no doubt as to what she thought of those accusations, ‘isn’t his source of this information as much as a danger—to your sister—as you claim Richard could be?’

Bright, Quinn acknowledged appreciatively. Still furiously angry at what he had to say about Richard Heaton, but able to think logically in spite of it.

‘His source,’ Quinn drawled contemptuously as he thought of Andrew McDonald, the man his sister had so briefly become involved with, ‘if they should choose to go to the press themselves with this story, is in a position to lose as much as Corinne.’ The other man had a wife and two children who had no idea of his involvement with another woman!

‘I see,’ Harrie murmured, her gaze narrowed on him consideringly—giving Quinn the distinct impression she knew exactly what sort of threat had been brought to bear on that particular source! ‘I won’t say it’s been nice meeting you, Mr McBride, because—’

‘Harrie!’ Rome cut in sharply.

She sighed deeply before drawing in a controlling breath, forcing the semblance of a smile onto her lips, although it came out looking more like a grimace, Quinn thought.

This meeting wasn’t turning out at all as Quinn had hoped that it would: a conversation with Rome Summer, an agreement or otherwise to the other man helping him with this situation, and then he would be on his way. A personal element on the part of the other man hadn’t been part of Quinn’s suppositions, certainly not to the extent that the other man’s girlfriend obviously had some sort of relationship herself with Richard Heaton! It changed things somewhat, although not, Quinn now had reason to believe, to the point that Rome Summer refused to help him. And Corinne…

‘Well, you’ve had your “meeting” with the “stranger”, Mr McBride,’ Harrie told him tauntingly. ‘Although not with the tall, dark female you obviously hoped it would be! You’ve also successfully maligned the reputation of a man you obviously haven’t even met,’ she snapped accusingly. ‘I hope you’re proud of yourself!’ she added disgustedly before striding across the room and closing the door forcefully behind her as she left.

Quinn stared at the closed door slightly dazedly, remembering all too clearly where he’d heard Harrie’s words before. At the fête earlier this afternoon… From the gypsy…

But how on earth—?

‘I hope you’ll excuse my eldest daughter, Quinn,’ Rome told him with a heavy sigh. ‘I’m afraid she’s rather hurt and angry at the moment—mostly with me, I hasten to add!—and that isn’t conducive to her remembering her manners!’

Quinn was still recovering from the shock of realising that the only way that Harrie could possibly have known of his teasing conversation with Gypsy Rosa earlier this afternoon was if she were the fortune-teller herself!

It took several stunned seconds for him to realise exactly what else Rome had just said.

Daughter…?

Harrie was Rome Summer’s daughter?

‘Your eldest daughter…?’ Quinn finally prompted huskily, still blinking dazedly.

It wasn’t very often he was disconcerted, but at the moment it had happened twice within a few seconds of each other. It seemed that not only was Harrie the gypsy from this afternoon’s fête, but she was also Rome’s daughter…?

Rome gave a rueful grimace. ‘Harriet. But we’ve always called her Harrie. I had a feeling earlier when you mentioned my children that you had no idea those daughters were actually twenty-nine, twenty-seven and twenty-five respectively,’ he murmured proudly.

‘Or that Harrie was one of them,’ Quinn confirmed distractedly, still trying to come to terms with the true relationship between Rome and the beautiful Harrie.

Father and daughter. Not lover and mistress. As he had assumed. And as Harrie, from her earlier scornful remark, had obviously known he’d assumed!

Hell!

‘The eldest,’ Rome confirmed again. ‘Although not the most fiery, I can assure you,’ he added with proud affection.

Quinn shook his head, still trying to come to terms with Harrie’s true relationship to Rome. ‘The redhead that’s been bossing me around most of the afternoon wouldn’t happen to be another of them, would she?’ He grimaced in a vain hope that he could be wrong.

Rome laughed softly. ‘That sounds distinctly like Danie. My middle daughter,’ he explained at Quinn’s blank expression. ‘Andie, the youngest, is upstairs in bed with the flu,’ he added with concern.

Although, according to ‘the beautiful Audrey’, Andie was ‘feeling a little better now’, Quinn recalled heavily.

Quinn could never remember feeling quite this disconcerted. Not only had the lawyer Harrie turned out to be a woman, but she was also Rome Summer’s eldest daughter. No wonder she’d looked at the older man slightly askance when he had admitted his daughters had given him his fair share of headaches!

But Harrie wasn’t only female and Rome Summer’s daughter, she was also Gypsy Rosa…!

And she was wrong when she claimed he hadn’t met his ‘tall, dark, beautiful stranger’ Harrie Summer more than fitted that description herself!

She wanted to hit someone! No, not just ‘someone’ her father or Quinn McBride would do just fine. More than fine!

She’d wondered at Rome’s need for her presence at this meeting with Quinn McBride today; she knew that her father had made it an unwritten policy over the years never to conduct business during the weekend, that this was the time he set aside for his family. But when he’d telephoned her yesterday, to make sure she would definitely be here today, she hadn’t questioned the request too deeply, just assumed that he must have had his reasons for wanting her here.

And he’d certainly had those!

Just when and how had he learnt of her relationship with Richard Heaton? That he did know couldn’t be in any doubt after the things he had said to her earlier.

‘What is it, Harrie?’ Audrey prompted concernedly as she came out of the study further down the hallway.

The other woman’s concern wasn’t too difficult to understand, Harrie acknowledged self-disgustedly as she realised she was still standing outside the sitting-room, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

She drew in a relaxing breath before replying. ‘Just Rome up to his usual games,’ she bit out sharply.

Audrey raised blonde brows at her vehemence. ‘But I thought it was a business meeting?’

Harrie had been only seventeen when Audrey had first begun to work with Rome, nineteen when her mother had died, and so consequently it had been Audrey whom Harriet had turned to when she’d needed to talk over the usual problems teenagers had as they were growing into adulthood.

It was also no secret between the two women that Rome had been bringing home ‘suitable’ young men for his daughters’ perusal for the last five years, in the hope that one of them might eventually settle down and present him with a grandson! ‘Suitable’ to Rome, of course—so far none of those men had proved in the least interesting to the three sisters.

‘Not those sort of games,’ Harrie told the other woman derisively; much as Rome might like to see his daughters settled, even he could never imagine Quinn McBride as a potential son-in-law.

Besides, Harrie was quite capable of picking her own husband, thank you very much. In fact, until a few minutes ago, she had thought she had chosen him…

‘Come along to the study where we won’t be disturbed,’ Audrey invited gently as she read the look of confusion on Harrie’s face. ‘You can tell me all about it,’ she added warmly.

Much as she felt tempted to do exactly that, Harrie knew that she couldn’t. For one thing she had given a promise of confidentiality to her father and Quinn McBride. And for another, the whole thing was too painful at the moment to even think of confiding in someone else, even abstractly, any of the things Quinn McBride had accused Richard of.

Not that she believed them. Not for a minute. But she needed time to gather her own thoughts. And to do that she had to get away from here!

‘Not today, Audrey.’ Harrie reached out and squeezed the other woman’s arm in apology. ‘I’m so angry with Rome at the moment that I don’t even want to run the risk of seeing him again today. Or Quinn McBride,’ she added as she remembered the other man was staying for dinner. ‘I think it best if I keep to my decision to go back to town.’ The sooner the better, as far as she was concerned!

‘You know where I am if you change your mind,’ Audrey told her encouragingly.

Harrie grimaced. ‘Unfortunately, wherever you are, Rome tends to be too!’ As her father’s personal assistant, Audrey tended to travel all over the world with him. It didn’t allow Audrey any personal life of her own, but, as she’d never married, Audrey didn’t seem to mind that. ‘But there is one thing you could possibly help me with…?’ she said slowly, frowning slightly.

Audrey gave her a considering look. ‘And what’s that?’

She moistened dry lips. ‘Has my father ever mentioned a Richard Heaton to you?’ she prompted lightly.

Audrey raised blonde brows. ‘In what connection?’

‘In any connection!’ Harrie bit out disgustedly.

The older woman gave a rueful grimace. ‘Are you seriously expecting me to answer that?’