Two's Company Read online

  She swallowed hard, unable to move, held captive by the intensity of those dark blue eyes. 'I don't know what you mean.' She gave an involuntary quiver of awareness.

  Liam saw her reaction to their closeness. 'Oh, I think you do.' He nodded, one hand slowly moving up to caress the length of her hair. 'I want to make love to you, Juliet!' The words were said harshly, as if the need was completely against his will.

  As Juliet had no doubt it was! She felt the same attraction herself. But the difference was that she knew it just couldn't happen. Wouldn't happen!

  'Liam—'

  'Don't start reasoning, Juliet,' he bit out hardly, his arms moving possessively about her waist. 'I've done enough of that myself, and at the end of the day the whole damn lot goes out of the window the moment I'm alone with you!' he ground out disgustedly, the warmth of his breath stirring the hair at her temples.

  There was no way she could escape from the steel band of his arms without seriously bruising herself, but she held herself as far away from him as she could, pushing against his arms. 'This is ridiculous, Liam.'

  'I know that, damn you!' he muttered viciously. 'But maybe the only way to kill this thing is to make love to you!'

  'You—' she got no further in her protest as his mouth came down almost savagely on to hers, demanding a response from her.

  There was no gentleness in him, no caring for the bruises he was inflicting upon the softness of her skin, only forceful demand as he plundered her mouth and body with an anger that bordered on savagery.

  Juliet whimpered low in her throat, her head flooded with deep, dark memories—memories that made her fight against him with every ounce of her strength.

  And it was a battle she was destined to lose.

  Liam was so much stronger than she, ruled by a passion he didn't even try to check as he swung her up in his arms, kicking the door shut with his foot before carrying her across the room to the bed, giving her no chance to escape as his weight came down on hers and his mouth claimed hers once again, his hands restlessly caressing the length of her body.

  There was no respite to the demanding kisses. Liam seemed unaware of the low sobs in her throat, the convulsions of her trapped hands against his chest. Juliet could feel herself drowning, drowning in a sea of blackness that had no end.

  'Liam, no!' she cried as she hung on to the last remnants of consciousness. 'Please, no!' This last was a begging plea, a need to be heard. 'Don't do this to me! Please… don't do this to me!' She was sobbing in earnest now—uncontrollable sobs that racked the whole length of her body.

  He raised his head to look down at her with glazed eyes, staring uncomprehendingly at the river of tears running down her cheeks.

  'Liam, please!' She looked up at him with pain-filled eyes, her face completely white, her hands clasped into defensive fists in front of her breasts, shock starting to set in too now as her body began to shake. 'P-please…!' she sobbed brokenly.

  He frowned deeply, shaking his head as if to clear it from a fog and drawing in deep breaths of air to his seemingly starved lungs. 'Oh, God!' he finally groaned, throwing himself back on the bed beside her, his arm flung up over his eyes, as if he too wanted to shut out the memory of what had just almost happened.

  Shock was setting in properly in Juliet now, and she lay rigid on the bed, unable to move, shaking too badly even to attempt to stand up, even though at this moment she wanted to put as much distance between herself and Liam as she possibly could.

  'Hell!' He shot up off the bed, striding over to the window to stare down sightlessly at the driveway. 'Hell!' he muttered again, running an agitated hand through the dark blond thickness of his hair.

  That was exactly where Juliet felt that he had taken her! Her numbed senses were starting to thaw, and so the pain began to feel more intense. Liam had been intent upon making love to her, with or without her co-operation. No doubt he would have preferred it with, but—

  'Take that look of horror off your face!' he instructed harshly, looking at her from across the room now, very pale, a nerve pulsing in his cheek. 'I'll admit I was beyond reason for a few minutes, but I would never have actually made love to you without your consent!' He shook his head in denial of just how beyond reason he had been.

  'Which I would never have given,' she returned huskily, surprised that she could articulate at all; she did feel horrified by what had almost happened.

  Liam drew in a ragged breath. 'Possibly not,' he conceded icily. 'We'll never know. But what I do know,' he added quickly as Juliet was about to assure him that she certainly did know, 'is that it isn't a good idea for me to continue staying in this house.' He looked about him scathingly. 'Just a house.' He shook his head. 'And yet it's always held bad memories for me!'

  And now it held even more! Juliet didn't believe that she would ever be able to enter this bedroom again without remembering what had happened here with Liam.

  She sat up slowly, feeling the bruises he had inflicted on her body. 'I'll be the one to move out,' she said softly, not even looking at him, knowing she couldn't stay here any longer. It had been bad enough before, but now…!

  'My father left this house to you,' Liam reminded her harshly.

  She shook her head, moving like an automaton as she slipped on a pair of shoes. 'I never wanted it. I know you don't believe me, but I never wanted any of what he left me. But William felt responsible—' She broke off abruptly, turning sharply to look at Liam with stricken eyes. She had said too much; she knew she had by the narrow questioning of his eyes.

  'Responsible for what?' Liam predictably prompted.

  God, this had disturbed her! She would never have—

  'Juliet!' he ground out forcefully. She moistened suddenly dry lips. 'Nothing,' she denied hurriedly. 'It was nothing.'

  He didn't look convinced—and Juliet had secretly known he wouldn't be. He was far too astute; he missed very little of what was going on around him. And he thought he knew her very well. He didn't, but he believed he did.

  He gave her a considering look as he slowly crossed the room to stand in front of her. 'I had a question to ask you tonight, Juliet, and I believe you've just answered it for me!' he said coldly.

  She looked up at him frowningly, not liking that look of disgust on his face one little bit. Why should he be the one who was disgusted? She was the one who had almost been… almost been…

  Liam's mouth twisted scathingly. 'It was a cover-up, wasn't it, Juliet?' he accused, revolted. 'A damned cover-up that cost a life—' He broke off as Juliet rose abruptly to her feet.

  If she had looked at him with horror before, it was as nothing to the terrified despair she felt now. How could he know so quickly? How could he possibly have guessed the secret which she and William had kept for so many years?

  CHAPTER NINE

  Liam turned sharply away from her, thrusting his hands deep into his trouser pockets as he moved over to the window once again, as far away from Juliet as he could possibly be in this room. 'How well did you know my little brother, Juliet?' he finally rasped, his back still towards her—a back rigid with suppressed anger.

  She swallowed hard. 'I told you—'

  'How well, Juliet?' His tone brooked no prevarication.

  She chewed on her bottom lip, looking down at her clenched hands. 'I was engaged to marry him,' she said quietly.

  She sensed rather than saw Liam turn sharply to face her, and felt unable to raise her head and return the probe of his gaze. If she looked at him now, just once, he would see it all in her face. And she had kept it to herself for so long… Although it seemed that Liam now knew the truth. She still didn't understand how he could possibly know…

  'You said you weren't around ten years ago, so I knew it had to be something like that,' he said disparagingly. 'You have consistently denied being intimately involved with my father, so that only left Simon. You had to have been close—very close-to at least one member of this family to have been privileged with such information. My fath
er was an expert at burying family skeletons,' he added disgustedly.

  Juliet was still caught up on the 'ten years ago'; she didn't understand what Liam meant by that. It wasn't ten years ago, it was only… Was there some mistake? Could Liam possibly be talking about something else completely? The Walters account? Was that it? Liam had said that the account was ten years old. If it was that account, what cover-up was he talking about?

  She drew in a deep breath. 'It was so long ago, Liam—'

  'A man died!' he bit out harshly, his eyes blazing across the width of the room. 'The compensation my father paid the family can never change the fact that Simon was completely responsible for his death. Through greed and incompetence—but mainly greed!' he concluded contemptuously.

  Juliet was very pale, staring across the room at him, not having taken in any more of his words after his statement 'Simon was completely responsible for his death'. Simon had killed someone? How? Why?

  'No amount of money can make up for that,' Liam added disgustedly. 'Simon should have paid, and paid dearly, for what he did. But my father wouldn't accept that,' he said bitterly. 'Simon could do no wrong in his eyes.'

  Juliet felt sick, could hardly breathe. Simon had killed someone? And William had known about it, had covered it up, had continued to hide that knowledge, had taken it to his deathbed? God, no wonder…

  'You were going to marry a man who as good as committed murder,' Liam continued remorselessly. 'Oh, my father doctored the file; Simon's signature doesn't appear on a single one of the documents. But we both knew, once the whole damned building had collapsed and crushed that poor devil beneath it, that Simon had used inferior materials while falsifying the invoices to look otherwise; that he had pocketed the money he saved.

  'But, even though I told my father that, he refused to accept it as the truth, accused me of being bitter towards the blue-eyed boy he considered my brother to be.' Liam's face was full of disgust. 'That's when I walked out,' he ground out harshly. 'I didn't want any more to do with this family, wanted no part of them!'

  So now she knew the secret of Liam's alienation from his family. God, it was so much worse than she could ever have imagined. Simon… Oh, God, how could he have done that? And how could William have—?

  'But my father knew it was the truth,' he bit out coldly. 'Otherwise, why did he change all the documents in that file and put his own signature on them? Still protecting Simon! And you've carried on doing the same thing!' He shook his head in revulsion.

  Juliet looked up at him with stricken eyes. 'I didn't know anything about that,' she choked. 'I didn't know!' she repeated desperately when she could see the cold scepticism in Liam's eyes.

  'How can you say that?' he said, scornfully disbelieving. 'My father obviously felt some sort of responsibility towards you—you've already admitted as much!—and that responsibility can only have been because you knew you were marrying a man capable of allowing another human being to die because of his own greed. It's commonly known as blackmail, Juliet,' he added contemptuously.

  Juliet was still too shocked even to attempt to defend herself on that last accusation. What had Simon done? How could William have protected him in that way? God, no wonder William had seemed so pleased when Simon seemed to be settling down and getting married! But later—William had to have known later.

  Liam was right; William had felt a responsibility towards her, but that was because of his own guilt at protecting Simon for all those years, not because of anything she had said or done. But the coldly contemptuous look on Liam's face told her that he wasn't about to believe any explanation she gave him. And the truth was still too painful for her to talk about.

  'I'm moving out of this house, Juliet,' Liam told her harshly. 'As of now! I should never have come back here in the first place.' He shook his head self-disgustedly as he looked around him. 'It's a house full of lies and destruction. And the sooner I'm away from it again, the better I'll feel!' He strode purposefully over to the door.

  Juliet just looked at him, still too stunned by everything he had said to try to defend herself. But he was right about this house; it was full of lies and destruction, and she no longer wanted to be here either!

  'Liam—'

  'Not now, Juliet,' he snapped coldly, swinging the door open. 'I need to get away from here— from you! —so that I can start to think straight once again!' He slammed the door forcefully behind him, the room reverberating with the sound.

  Juliet was too shocked to move, too numb to cry. Oh, William, what did you do? she silently cried inside herself.

  She was very pale when she entered her office the next morning. She hadn't spent the night sleeping; she had been thinking about what she intended doing with the rest of her life. Because she didn't intend staying on at Carlyle House, or Carlyle Properties. She had loved William as a father, had felt grateful to him for what he had done for her, had felt a responsibility towards the company because of the care he had shown towards her. But all that had changed last night with Liam's revelations.

  William had known exactly what Simon was capable of and had chosen to protect him. And in the end they had both paid a price for that protection.

  She owed William nothing. In her, she had decided during the dark hours of the night, William had seen a way for his son to settle down to respectability, hoping, she was sure, that marriage would calm and tame his son in a way he had never been able to do. But, even at the end, Simon had proved that had not happened; his death had been as violent as it had been unnecessary.

  Her love for Liam, she had also decided, was futile, absolutely futile, and perhaps it was the price she would have to pay for her own silence where Simon was concerned.

  And so now, with her last ties with the Carlyle family broken, was the time for her to leave. Oh, she didn't intend just disappearing; she had legalities to sort out before she left, concerning both the house and the business. But once she had dealt with those…

  Where she would go she had no idea. Just as far away from here—and Liam!—as she could possibly be!

  God, no wonder Liam was so contemptuous of both his father and Simon. And her…

  It was that contempt from Liam which she couldn't cope with. There had been so much pain, but his contempt towards her was unbearable.

  'So nice of you to turn up!'

  Juliet turned guiltily at the harsh sound of his voice. She had just been about to enter her office when the door opposite hers had opened. Just her luck that it was Liam.

  She knew she was late, by almost an hour, but she just hadn't felt motivated to arrive here at all this morning. The business she had been trying so hard to save had been built on lies. On a man's death. She could guess, from Liam's accusations last night, exactly what had happened ten years ago; Simon had been in charge of the Walters project, had cut corners, and used inferior materials so that the remainder of the budget might go into his own pocket. And a man had died because of it.

  Simon had had no need to do anything so potentially dangerous, because William had always given him everything he had ever asked for, which made his crime doubly horrifying. No wonder Liam had found it impossible to stay, either with his family or the company.

  As she did now.

  'A late night doesn't entitle you to work part time,' he derided harshly, looking down his arrogant nose at her. 'Neither does being a half-owner,' he added insultingly.

  'I—'

  'Although from the look of you perhaps you shouldn't be here at all!' He looked her up and down scathingly, his contemptuous gaze finally resting on the paleness of her face. 'What's the matter, Juliet?' he taunted hardly. 'Did the truth hurt?'

  Her eyes filled with tears. What Liam had told her last night hadn't just hurt her, it had deeply shocked and disgusted her, and had seriously altered how she felt towards William. And as for Simon…

  'Oh, for God's sake!' he rasped impatiently at the sight of those unshed tears. 'Why do you always make me feel like a heel?' he said disgustedly
. 'I got out of this family once, Juliet; you were the one to bring me back! How did you expect me to feel towards William and Simon?' he added exasperatedly. 'Just because they're both dead, they aren't suddenly going to become nice people in my eyes; I knew them for what they were, and I wanted no part of them!'

  Neither did she, now that she knew what William had done. It had been his own guilty conscience that had made him be so nice to her; he had known all the time exactly what sort of person Simon was.

  'We need to talk, Liam.' Her voice was husky from the tears she had cried long into the night. 'But now isn't the time to do it.' She looked around them pointedly; the corridor was far from private, although she acknowledged that so far they hadn't been interrupted; probably Liam's raised voice had been heard by any employees who might have wanted to come down the corridor, and they had considered it the wrong time to do so! 'Could I talk to you later this evening?' There was none of her past anger and resentment towards this man in her voice; all the fight had gone out of her.

  'At the house?' His voice was sharp, his eyes narrowed.

  'No!' She held back a shudder with effort.

  She had already packed her things—that was another reason why she had been late this morning—and she intended to return to Carlyle House only once more herself, in order to pick up her suitcases.

  She drew in a deep, controlling breath. 'Perhaps we could have dinner?' she suggested more calmly.

  'A dinner at which I would have to sit and watch you not eat!' He dismissed her words scathingly with a negative shake of his head.

  'A drink, then,' she conceded agitatedly, knowing that he was right about the dinner; she didn't think that she would be able to swallow any food even if she tried to. 'Just somewhere where we can talk privately.' She looked up at him pleadingly.

  His expression remained hard. 'What's so private that we can't talk about it here, Juliet?'

  'I—' She broke off abruptly as John Morgan walked down the corridor towards them.