Two's Company Read online

  '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…

  CHAPTER FOUR

  'Well, I can honestly say that's the first time a woman has fallen for me in quite that way,' drawled the voice that was becoming all too familiar.

  Juliet opened one eyelid—it was about all she could manage to do at this precise moment. Her whole body, including her eyelids, felt like a lead weight. And the sun blazing into the room made her close even that eyelid as its brightness dazzled her.

  'Wakey, wakey,' Liam encouraged—far too boisterously as far as she was concerned. 'Come on, Juliet, drink some of this juice; you'll feel better for it.'

  At this moment she didn't think she would ever feel better again. If this was what it felt like to drink too much she knew why it had never happened to her before! Her head was thumping, her body ached, and her mouth felt as if it had fur growing in it. And people actually drank alcohol on a social basis as a way of enjoying themselves; they must all be masochists, she decided.

  'Juliet, it's time to wake up,' Liam encouraged in that cheerful, over-loud voice.

  Why was it? she wanted to know. She just wanted to go back to sleep until she felt human again. If she ever did!

  'What was that?' Liam prompted jovially as she mumbled under her breath.

  'I said—' She winced even at the sound of her own voice. 'I said,' she said again, much more quietly this time, 'stop talking in that loud voice. And it's much too bright in here.'

  'I'm talking perfectly normally,' he informed her lightly, although his voice did seem to be slightly softer. 'And I'll draw the curtains if that will make you feel better.'

  Curtains? What curtains? Where…? Juliet opened both her eyes in time to see Liam walk across the room, feeling sudden panic as she realised that she was in a bedroom, actually lying in the bed! In the bed? What…?

  'There.' Liam had turned back to her, dressed now in a dark blue shirt and light-coloured denims. 'How are you feeling this morning?'

  Morning? What…?

  'Dear, dear, dear, Juliet,' Liam drawled as he walked over to stand beside her. 'You are in a sorry state, aren't you?' He shook his head mockingly as he sat down on the side of the bed. 'You've been asleep for about sixteen hours and you still can't think straight, can you?'

  Sixteen hours! Then she hadn't misheard; it was morning!

  She went to sit up—only to find herself trapped beneath the bedclothes because of Liam sitting on the bed in the way that he was. She swallowed hard. 'How did I get here?' Her mouth still felt as if it was full of cotton wool and her voice was husky.

  Liam folded his arms across his chest. 'How do you think you got here?' he taunted. 'I didn't drag you here by your hair, if that's what you think.'

  Her scalp tingled enough for that to have actually been a possibility! But no, Liam must have carried her here. He must have put her to bed too.

  She swallowed hard. 'I can't think what happened…'

  'Can't you?' He looked down at her with a too innocent expression.

  Juliet wished he would stop looking so damned cheerful! She had made a complete fool of herself and he was obviously enjoying the fact. That wasn't very gentlemanly. But then, when had Liam ever been a gentleman where she was concerned? The one and only time she could remember was when he had stood up as she had got to the table in the hotel restaurant the very first night they met.

  God, that was only two days ago! She felt as if he had always been in her life, tormenting her.

  She attempted to moisten her lips, but there was no moisture on her tongue to do so. 'I must have got a slight touch of sunstroke,' she excused, avoiding his gaze as she sat up slightly to take a drink of the juice he had put on the bedside table for her.

  'Or something,' Liam drawled derisively. 'I hate to tell you this, Juliet, but the sun isn't hot enough in Majorca in November to give you sunstroke.'

  Juliet barely heard his reply, horrified to have realised as she sat up that she was wearing nothing but her bra and pants beneath the bedclothes. Liam had undressed her before putting her to bed!

  'You've gone very pale again.' His voice sharpened almost accusingly. And Juliet quickly realised why. 'You aren't pregnant, are you?' he added harshly.

  She gave an involuntary gasp. 'Of course I'm not pregnant,' she protested, holding the bedclothes to her protectively now.

  'I don't see why there's any "of course not" about it,' he dismissed scornfully. 'You've been living with my father for seven years!'

  'I told you—' She broke off, the rise in her voice causing her head to thump again. She closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down; Liam seemed to enjoy getting a reaction out of her where his father was concerned, and she wasn't about to give him that satisfaction just now. 'I'm not pregnant,' she repeated flatly.

  How could she possibly be pregnant, when there had been no one in her life since Simon? Liam could think what he liked about his father—nothing she said seemed to convince him otherwise—but she knew the truth. And there was no way she could possibly be pregnant. By anyone.

  'You're as white as the sheets.' Liam's voice was still accusing.

  'I'll be fine once I've showered and dressed,' she told him defensively, unwilling to tell him just how awful she really felt—or to let him know just how desperately she wanted him to leave so that she could put some clothes on.

  He looked down at her, his expression sceptical. 'Somehow I doubt it,' he finally drawled.

  'Look, I'm sorry if I've inconvenienced you by apparently passing out in this way,' she snapped waspishly. 'The wine may have—all right, did go to my head,' she corrected herself impatiently at his derisive expression. 'But I'll be on my way and out of your hair—'

  'Out of my bed,' he corrected her. 'I own the villa,' he reminded her softly as she frowned.

  She looked up at him sharply, relieved that it wasn't actually his bed but at the same time totally disconcerted by the way he was looking at her. His gaze softened, a smile playing about his lips.

  There was a sudden tension in
the room. Their gazes locked, grey clashing with dark blue. Juliet was suddenly very aware of Liam's closeness to her on the side of the bed, the warm heat emanating from his body, the slightly discernible smell of his aftershave. And of her own barely clothed body…

  The bedclothes were still pulled up to her chin, but her shoulders and arms were bare, her hair a mass of tumbled red curls against her heated flesh. And this man had undressed her last night, had seen her wearing only the cream bra and panties.

  She had never really thought about her body, about whether or not she was attractive to men, having no interest in them herself, but now, surprisingly, she wondered what Liam had thought of her long, silken limbs, of the slight swell of her breasts, the smooth curve of her hips and thighs…

  God, not only was she suddenly completely aware of her own body but she was aware of the muscled strength of Liam's too. His shirt was partially unbuttoned to reveal the golden hair that grew against the tanned skin there. She had never felt so physically aware of a man before. And it wasn't something she wanted to feel now, either—not at all, but especially not for this man.

  'If you'll go I'll just shower and dress and then leave,' she said stiltedly, her gaze remaining unblinkingly on the harsh attraction of his face.

  His mouth curved into a smile, revealing even white teeth, deep grooves beside that mouth testifying to the fact that he smiled often. Normally. When not in the company of a woman he thought had been his father's mistress!

  'There's no hurry,' he said huskily, reaching out to pick up a curling strand of her hair, his fingers lightly brushing the bareness of her shoulder as he did so. 'Is there?' he added softly.

  Juliet swallowed hard, unable to stop the involuntary shiver that ran down her spine even at that light touch from the slender but powerful-looking hand. 'I think we've agreed that we have nothing else to talk about,' she said breathlessly.

  'Have we?' Liam was suddenly much closer, his face only inches away from hers now, and Juliet was able to see the darker flecks of colour in the blue of his eyes, the golden length of his lashes. 'Perhaps we could find something else,' he murmured throatily.