Читать книгу Carole Mortimer Romance Collection - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 22

IF JULIET had been in the right frame of mind to enjoy it, the drive down the west coast of the island to Liam’s villa would have been very pleasant; the views were magnificent. But she needed extreme concentration to make the drive at all, unaccustomed as she was to driving on the right-hand side of the road, and her thoughts were far from troublefree too.

She felt like a puppet having its strings pulled— by Liam Carlyle. What could have been so important that he’d had to leave the hotel this morning before their meeting? Diana Gilbraith hadn’t seemed to have the answer to that one—or if she had she wasn’t telling. And the other woman had left too now, to go south and take a plane home to her family in England.

It was all very unexpected, and Juliet couldn’t say she was exactly pleased at the thought of going to Liam’s villa. She hadn’t even realised, during all her effort to see him, that he had a villa on the island.

The man was as elusive as a chameleon!

And she had to try and do business with him. Try being the operative word; Juliet had a feeling that it was going to be more difficult than she had ever imagined. And she didn’t at all like the feeling that she was being played with.

It seemed a long drive to Liam’s villa, although in actual miles it probably wasn’t that far. But she had no real idea of where she was going, and continually referred to the map Diana Gilbraith had given her, keeping a keen eye on the X that indicated where the actual villa was. It appeared to be just outside a village on the west coast of the island, and as she approached the village after lunch she kept an eye out for a sign that would indicate the villa, the name of which she couldn’t have pronounced if she had tried to ask anyone.

Damn Liam Carlyle! She felt totally out of her depth—in a place she didn’t know, a country whose language she couldn’t understand, let alone speak!

She had actually driven through the village before she realised that she must have missed the villa completely. She had been so fascinated by the terraced village perched on the side of the hill, and the orange and lemon trees growing beside the houses on those terraces, that she had driven out the other side of the village before she knew what she was doing.

She was hot, tired and extremely irritable by the time she had reversed and driven back, finding the villa with no problem this time, although she was slightly put off by the rough track that seemed to lead down to it. Surely this couldn’t be the right place? After the luxury she had just come from, this villa appeared to be rustic to say the least.

But the name appeared to be right, and even if it was the wrong villa perhaps the owner would be able to direct her to the right place.

If the owner had been at home! Several rings on the doorbell elicited no response, further increasing Juliet’s irritability. Despite appearances this had to be the right place, she decided, and she had no intention of running all over the island looking for Liam. The damned man had booked her out of her hotel—OK, he had paid her bill in the process, but it was still a damned cheek!—and so she intended just camping out on his doorstep until he turned up!

If he turned up…There was always the possibility that he hadn’t come here at all, that he literally had got her running all over the island for nothing. He

‘Come and have a swim; you look very hot and uncomfortable,’ drawled an all too familiar voice.

Juliet spun round at once, colour warming her cheeks as she looked at Liam, standing at the side of the villa watching her, a towel secured about his waist, his torso completely bare, the dark blond hair there glistening in the sunshine. He looked tall and virile and slightly dangerous, like a predator about to pounce.

And she knew she looked hot and uncomfortable; she felt it too!

‘I’ve been looking for this damned villa for almost an hour,’ she exaggerated in her agitation. ‘It’s not exactly on the main road.’ And that wasn’t an exaggeration; she had driven almost half a mile down the track before the villa had even come into view!

‘It’s not meant to be,’ Liam dismissed mockingly. ‘It would hardly be a retreat if everyone could find it.’

She knew he had a point, but at the moment she was too disgruntled to admit it. ‘Well, anyway, I’m here,’ she snapped, eyes flashing.

‘So I can see.’ Liam’s gaze moved over her slowly.

She looked a mess; she knew she did; the pale green sundress she had changed into for the drive was now creased and clinging to her in the heat of the afternoon sun; her hair, which she left secured, was once again escaping in silky tendrils about her face and neck. But if she looked a mess it was this man’s fault. She was also hungry; she had eaten very little before leaving the hotel earlier, and hadn’t stopped for lunch on the way here either. All in all, she was not in a good humour!

‘We have some business to discuss,’ she bit out tensely, aware that her head was starting to pound too, probably from the tension of the drive in the hot sunshine.

‘Not until you’ve relaxed a bit—possibly had some lunch?’ he added enquiringly. ‘And then taken a swim to cool down.’

She knew her temper must show in her face, that the light sprinkling of freckles that dusted her nose would be showing in sharp contrast to the rest of her pale skin. Being a redhead, she didn’t tan; her skin merely went red and then returned to its normal pallor. Her eyes were sparkling with temper, and her mouth seemed set in a firm, angry line.

Perhaps a swim wouldn’t be a bad idea…!

‘I’ll accept your last offer,’ she snapped. ‘Then we can discuss business. And then I’ll have to organise a flight home.’

Liam put out a hand, indicating that she should precede him round to the back of the villa. The rustic, almost uncared for front of the villa in no way prepared Juliet for the back of it; there was a huge swimming-pool glistening in the sunshine, a beautiful flower-covered patio to one side, with loungers arranged amid the fragrant beauty, and a jug of iced fruit juice sitting on one of the tables. From the two glasses that sat next to the jug Juliet guessed that Liam had been expecting her any time now—or there was someone else in the villa with him.

‘Help yourself.’ He indicated the fruit juice. ‘I would offer to get it for you, but the mood you’re in you’re likely to refuse it!’ he added in an amused voice.

She was behaving childishly, she knew that, and it didn’t help that he was pointing it out to her, but she did hate this feeling of being manipulated. It wasn’t a feeling that sat well on her shoulders at all.

But to have refused the juice would have been pure madness on her part, considering how hot it was and just how thirsty she was too after her journey.

She gratefully sat down on one of the loungers, poured two glasses of juice, one for Liam and one for herself, and drank thirstily. It was delicious, and seemed to be a combination of orange and grapefruit juice.

‘Better?’ Liam sat down next to her, sipping at his own juice as he looked at her with mocking blue eyes.

‘Much,’ she nodded, looking about her appreciatively at the panoramic views down to the deep blue sea.

‘Does this “damned villa” meet with your approval?’ he drawled.

She turned sharply back to him. ‘It’s very nice,’ she bit out tautly.

‘I think so,’ he nodded, relaxing back on the lounger, the towel shifting to reveal the considerable length of his muscular legs.

Juliet looked away, feeling uncomfortable again—this time because of the presence of this half-naked man. Although Liam seemed completely unconcerned with his lack of clothing. And why shouldn’t he be? This was his home, his ‘retreat’; he could walk around completely naked if he chose to, although she was relieved that he wasn’t!

She did, however, have a slight puzzle over why he should have invited her here to his obviously very private domain in the first place; it was obviously a very private place of his, had none of the overwhelming luxury of the hotel she had just left, and seemed to be somewhere where he came to relax completely, away from all his business pressures.

And she did feel very alone with him here, apparently several miles away from other habitation…

He sat up suddenly, and Juliet made an involuntary movement backwards. Liam frowned across at her. ‘I was just going to suggest that we go for that swim now that you’ve cooled down a little…’ He studied her intently, eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

She swallowed hard, realising that she was behaving like some gauche teenager rather than the twenty-seven-year-old businesswoman she wanted Liam to think her. She just wasn’t used to being around partially clothed men, under any circumstances…

She nodded abruptly. ‘I’ll go and get my costume from the car.’

‘Does that mean I have to put one on too?’ Liam said softly.

Her eyes widened; he wasn’t wearing anything under that towel! Oh, God…! ‘I think that might be best,’ she told him tightly as she stood up. ‘In the circumstances.’

‘And what circumstances might those be?’ Liam stood up too, dangerously close to her. ‘The fact that you were my father’s mistress?’ he added scathingly.

Juliet gasped at this unexpected attack. ‘I——’

‘Because you’re completely safe with me, Juliet,’ he rasped harshly. ‘In the circumstances!’

‘I was not your father’s mistress!’ she protested incredulously.

‘Weren’t you?’ He turned away disgustedly to enter the villa through the huge open glass sliding doors.

Juliet stared after him, too stunned to move, blinking back the tears that had suddenly blinded her. It had never occurred to her, or, she was sure, to William either, that such an assumption could be made about their relationship. By anyone. William had been the father she had never known, especially after Simon’s death, and it was unthinkable that Liam should now make such an accusation.

But he had made it. Obviously believed it. And, with William dead, she had no way of proving otherwise.

And why should she? Liam made no secret of the fact that he felt nothing but contempt for his father—a man she had loved, and who, she was sure, had loved her in return. She owed Liam no explanations about a father whose funeral he hadn’t even bothered to attend.

Once she had got over William’s sudden death from a heart attack, she had informed Liam’s London office of his father’s funeral, and had been stunned when he hadn’t even turned up for that.

The wording of William’s will made it obvious that he had wanted to heal the rift between himself and his son—even if only after his death—which was why she had felt honour-bound at least to contact Edward Carlyle and tell him of the arrangements. The fact that he hadn’t come had told her that he didn’t have the same wish to heal the rift. It was only when it had become obvious that she couldn’t run the business without his cooperation that she had decided to contact him again.

And how she wished she hadn’t had to; she hated the way he spoke about William so scathingly.

She was still sitting on the lounger when Liam came back out of the villa a few minutes later, wearing dark blue swimming-trunks now. His body was lean and fit and deeply tanned, and his hair had dried to a deep gold.

‘Changed your mind about the swim?’ he derided, poised on the edge of the pool.

She had changed her mind about everything concerning him. She should have known what sort of man he was when he hadn’t returned for William’s funeral, when he’d continued to ignore all her letters and telephone calls. She was wasting her time even trying to talk to him, was putting herself through unnecessary humiliation when it was obvious that he had no real intention of talking to her about Carlyle Properties. He never had had.

‘I have to go,’ she told him abruptly, standing up. ‘This was a mistake.’

Liam arched dark blond brows. ‘Any more of a mistake than flying out here in the first place?’ he bit out scathingly.

He was right; it had been a mistake, Liam had no intention of being co-operative over his father’s company.

‘It appears not,’ she accepted contemptuously. ‘I would have thought you owed your father——’

‘I owe William Carlyle nothing!’ he cut in forcefully, a nerve pulsing in his cheek as he glared across at her, his eyes glittering fiercely. ‘He only had one son—Simon. Did he never tell you that?’ he scorned.

Juliet blinked across at him. It had been so long since anyone had mentioned Simon. She and William, by tacit agreement, had never talked about him; the memories were too painfully deep. And now Liam was opening up a wound that had never really had the chance to heal…!

She moistened suddenly dry lips. ‘Simon is dead.’ Her voice broke huskily.

‘And so was I, for over ten years. William can’t just suddenly claim our relationship now that he’s dead!’ Liam snarled angrily. ‘William Carlyle had no sons when he died, Juliet,’ he rasped viciously. ‘So how could he possibly have left half his company to one of them? Take the company, Juliet—I think you probably earned it!’

With that last contemptuous statement he dived smoothly into the water beneath him, surfacing seconds later to swim the length of the pool with smooth, strong strokes.

She wanted to leave—had to leave—but somehow she couldn’t move; her legs felt like lead weights.

There had been a lot of bitterness behind Liam’s words about his father, and bitterness, as she very well knew, was based on pain, a pain that went so deep that bitterness was needed to survive it. She had no idea what William and Liam had argued about all those years ago—William had never talked about his elder son—but she did know Liam had never really got over the pain of walking out on the only family he had.

Ten years. It was a long time not to have recognised your family. As far as Juliet was aware Liam seemed to have no ties now either; he seemed to go wherever he wanted. What he seemed to have spent his time doing during the last ten years was building himself a business empire in the world of hotels and leisure, becoming more successful in that field than his father’s business could ever hope to be. Perhaps as a way of hitting out at his father? Juliet was no psychologist, but that was more than a possibility.

And it seemed that he had now finished hitting out at her for her involvement with his father, that the game was now over and she could have Carlyle Properties as far as he was concerned!

She didn’t doubt for one moment that Liam meant what he said; she was sure that he was a man who always meant what he said. But how could she take something which she knew she had no right to? Her initial reaction on being told that she owned half the company had been to give Edward Carlyle all of it; after all, she had no real right to it. But his elusiveness over the last two months had shown her only too clearly just how interested he was in the company.

Even so, she couldn’t just walk away with all of the company. That would be so totally wrong. And it obviously wasn’t what William had wanted at all.

‘Still here?’ Liam rasped as he swung easily out of the pool, picking up a towel to begin towelling himself dry. ‘You’ve got what you came for, Juliet,’ he derided. ‘We have nothing further to discuss.’

Her eyes flashed a warning. He might have been hurt by William in the past, might now have reason to believe that she had been his father’s mistress, but that did not give him the right to talk to her in that way!

‘There will be papers to sign——’

‘Send them to my London office.’ He waved a hand in dismissal. ‘My lawyers will deal with them.’

‘But——’

‘Juliet,’ he cut in quietly—too quietly, ‘haven’t you realised by now that I have no interest in anything to do with the Carlyle family?’ His eyes glittered deeply blue.

‘Your name is Carlyle——’

‘For my sins,’ he accepted abruptly, the towel draped about his neck now. ‘But a name doesn’t make me one of them.’

She frowned across at him. He spoke of his father and brother with real hatred, a hatred that went very deep…

‘Don’t look so shocked, Juliet,’ he said derisively. ‘Not everyone can love the family they’re given.’

She stiffened. ‘I wouldn’t know about that,’ she bit out.

He looked at her blankly for a moment, and then winced as he realised exactly what she meant. ‘Oh. God, I’m sorry.’ He shook his head.

Having a family of her own had been something she had longed for when she had been younger, but for some reason the mother she had never seen had refused to let her be put up for adoption, and the series of foster homes she had gone to had all become just a blur of kind, well-meaning people who could never really allow themselves to become too attached to her, or her to them. And then her mother had died when she was fifteen. At that age Juliet had been far too old to be wanted for adoption, and had left foster care, as soon as she was old enough, to make a life for herself.

That was why William’s kindness to her, both before and after Simon’s death, had been so important to her; why she felt such an obligation, despite Liam’s insults concerning her relationship with his father, to try and reach his older son now.

‘It isn’t important,’ she dismissed.

‘Yes, it is, damn it,’ Liam rasped. ‘Look, let’s have some lunch, Juliet, and then maybe both of us will have calmed down slightly.’

As far as she was aware, she wasn’t upset, but if Liam chose to see it that way that was up to him. And she really did need one more chance to change his mind about Carlyle Properties.

‘I won’t change my mind about any involvement with my father’s company.’ He seemed to read her mind as they went into the house to prepare lunch. ‘I cut myself off from that once, and I intend to remain away from it! ‘Liam…’

‘Juliet…’ he returned mockingly, his ill humour from a few minutes ago definitely abating. ‘Don’t try and interfere in things you don’t understand,’ he advised quietly.

‘But—’

‘Lunch,’ he announced firmly as they entered the kitchen—a bright open room, its general clutter fitting the rustic image.

Liam went to the fridge and began to take out salad stuff and cold meats and cheeses. This obviously really was his retreat from the outside world, a place where he was completely alone. Usually. But unfortunately, Juliet knew, her presence here meant nothing; Liam really was adamant about Carlyle Properties.

They worked together in silence preparing the meal, taking their laden plates back outside to sit beside the pool and eat the food.

‘And I expect you to eat that,’ Liam warned as she picked at the food on her plate. ‘By the look of you, someone should have taken you in hand years ago!’ He ate his own food with obvious enjoyment.

Juliet looked at him impatiently. ‘Not only are you thoughtless, you’re arrogant too!’

He grinned at her unconcernedly. ‘It has been said,’ he acknowledged with a nod.

A man in his position could probably afford to be arrogant, but Juliet found it more than a little unnerving being ordered about in this way. She and William had always worked as a team and since his death she had been the one giving orders, to household and company staff alike.

‘The house,’ she said abruptly. ‘What do you want me to do with that?’

Liam’s eyes narrowed. ‘As far as I’m aware that was left to you,’ he dismissed harshly.

So he had read the letters sent to him by the lawyers, and probably hers too, even if he had chosen to ignore them! Which proved that he wasn’t quite as unconcerned about his father as he liked to appear.

She shrugged. ‘It’s your family home——’ She broke off as she saw the darkening anger on his face. ‘It’s called Carlyle House, Liam,’ she reasoned.

‘Then change its name. Or your own,’ he rasped. ‘It’s something I should have done myself years ago!’

‘I——’

‘Wine.’ He stood up abruptly. ‘We should have some wine with this,’ he announced before striding back into the villa.

Juliet stared after him. He really was the most difficult man to understand. In fact, she wasn’t even bothering to try any more! One minute he was civil and the next he was on the attack again. Admittedly, the attacks only came when the conversation veered on to his family, but considering that was all they really had to talk about it was a strain, to say the least!

She wordlessly took the glass of wine he handed her a few minutes later, sipping gratefully at the golden liquid.

‘Eat,’ he instructed harshly.

She looked at him over the rim of her wine glass. ‘Liam——’

‘Just eat, Juliet,’ he said impatiently. ‘I didn’t ask for you to come to Majorca, to seek me out— and too much of that wine on an empty stomach and I’m likely to have a drunken woman on my hands!’

He really was the most insulting man! She had never been drunk in her life, rarely touched alcohol, in fact, and Liam certainly had no right to imply that she was going to get drunk on one glass of wine.

Thoughtless. Difficult. Arrogant. Insulting. He had been all four of those already this afternoon, was there anything nice to say about this man?

She didn’t look at him again as she ate some of the food, defiantly taking sips of the wine in between eating, realising after a while, and two refills of her glass of wine later, that she was actually starting to feel a little light-headed. The long drive on unfamiliar roads, too much heat and sun, followed by the tension of trying to talk to Liam, she excused herself. It certainly had nothing to do with the wine!

‘How long have you owned this villa?’ She decided to try polite conversation again.

‘Long enough,’ Liam returned tersely.

So much for polite conversation! Why bother? she asked herself dismissively.

‘I only asked,’ she muttered, taking another sip of the wine.

‘And I only answered,’ he returned abruptly.

‘Not exactly,’ she challenged.

‘How “exactly” did you want me to answer?’ he derided. ‘Do you just want a year-month approximation of how long I’ve owned the villa, or do you want to know to the day?’

‘Oh, just forget it,’ Juliet snapped. ‘It wasn’t important anyway.’

‘Then why ask?’ he said scornfully.

‘I thought one of us should try to be polite,’ she returned scathingly. ‘Obviously only one of us is capable of it!’

Liam shrugged unconcernedly. ‘Obviously only one of us needs to be.’

Juliet drew in an angry breath; he was insulting to the point of rudeness! He didn’t know her, didn’t really know anything about her—except what he chose to make up in his more than fertile mind!— and he had no right to speak to her like this.

‘I’ve had enough.’ She put her plate, most of the food still on it, back on the table with her empty wine glass next to it. This had been a waste of her time, as well as his!

‘I think we both have,’ he acknowledged grimly. ‘You’ve brought something back into my life that I would rather forget about, Juliet,’ he bit out.

She looked at him with wide accusing eyes. ‘You can’t forget about your own father!’

‘Why not?’ His eyes glittered, deeply blue. ‘He forgot about me for ten years!’

‘William is dead, Liam,’ she said in exasperation, tears in her eyes now as she thought of the loss of the man who had cared for her so much. ‘Dead!’ she repeated forcefully. ‘You can’t retain bitterness towards someone who’s dead!’

He shook his head. ‘I stopped feeling bitterness towards him a long time ago. In fact, I stopped feeling anything towards him a long time ago!’ he added harshly.

Juliet stared at him for several long, seemingly timeless minutes, unable to reconcile inside herself the feelings Liam had for a man who had shown her nothing but tender kindness. And no matter what Liam said he did show bitterness towards his father. She knew that emotion only too well herself not to recognise it, but she had never felt it towards William.

‘I think I had better go,’ she finally said quietly, standing up.

Liam looked up at her, squinting in the bright sunshine. ‘You haven’t booked your flight yet,’ he pointed out softly.

And now that she had stood up she wasn’t sure she was capable of doing so, or of driving down to Palma; her head had started to spin, unaccustomed to wine with little food. God, the last thing she wanted to do, after bristling so indignantly at the suggestion that she might get drunk, was let Liam know that she really didn’t feel too well!

She shook her head, trying to think clearly. ‘I can do that when I get to Palma,’ she parried, just wanting to get away from here now before Liam realised the truth—that he had ‘a drunken woman on his hands’!

She wasn’t exactly drunk, she reassured herself; she just didn’t feel quite as capable as she usually did. In fact, she felt incapable of moving at this moment.

Liam stood up next to her, and looked down at her intently. ‘Are you all right?’ He frowned. ‘You’ve gone very pale.’

She knew she had; she had felt the colour draining from her face even as he had said the words. And the sun reflecting off the blue of the swimming-pool was starting to make her feel dizzy, although at the same time she felt mesmerised by the flickering light, unable to look away.

‘Juliet?’ Liam prompted again, sharply this time.

She looked up at him finally, blinking rapidly as she tried to focus. Liam’s face was just a hazy outline, and the more she blinked, the more unfocused it became.

Liam grasped her by her upper arms as she swayed slightly. ‘Juliet, what—?’

Juliet didn’t hear any more; blackness washed over her as she felt herself falling, falling, falling…