Carole Mortimer Romance Collection. Carole Mortimer
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decides not to marry your mother after all—’
‘He’ll marry her,’ Silke said with defiant certainty.
He gave a dismissively disgusted shrug. ‘Then that will be his problem. But the two of us now have unfinished business, Silke, and—’
‘As far as you’re concerned it’s finished business, Lyon,’ she cut in vehemently.
He shook his head, his eyes glacial. ‘If there’s a child I’ll make it my business again, Silke.’ He strode purposefully to the door. ‘Count on it!’ he warned before leaving, closing the door forcefully behind him.
It sounded more like a threat than a promise!
And, knowing Lyon as she did, it probably was. Oh, God, please let there not be any repercussions from her stupidity.
The stupidity of loving Lyon Buchanan...
IT HAD been a long and difficult week, a week when Silke had done a lot of soul-searching. She hadn’t seen Lyon again since that evening at her flat, but the memory of it had never been far from her mind. In fact, it hadn’t been out of it!
And the week certainly hadn’t been helped by the fact that James had indeed ‘called’ her ‘tomorrow’; in fact he had done better than that, he had telephoned her at the agency before coming there to see her in person. And what he had to say to her hadn’t endeared him to her one little bit!
The only highlight of the week had been that her mother and Henry had actually managed to get married without any more interference from Lyon. A fact she was sure he was furious about! Not that the older couple looked at all troubled by that when they had returned from their honeymoon yesterday, the two of them obviously glowingly happy together.
But their return from their few days’ honeymoon had been done deliberately Silke had learned last night, Henry informing her that there was a board meeting today—during which he intended proposing that Buchanan’s look into the idea of introducing an exclusive jewellery department in their London branch!
Silke’s answer to that had been a definite no. And no amount of arguing on Henry’s part had managed to persuade her otherwise. Much to Henry’s chagrin. He had accused her of being ‘as stubborn as her mother had been at eighteen!’.
But Silke had no intention of being accused of nepotism by Lyon. Besides, she was being kept busy enough at the moment anyway. With her mother now married to Henry she had little interest in running the agency, wanted to spend time with her new husband, making sure he didn’t overdo things, and so Silke could run the agency for her. Until such time as she decided to sell it or close it down. And then Silke would rethink her future. As far away from Buchanan’s as possible!
Silke had known that Henry was far from happy with her refusal, but in the circumstances there was really little he could do about it. She wanted to stay as far away from Lyon in future as her mother’s marriage to his uncle would allow.
* * *
‘So we’re finally having dinner together.’
Silke drew in a deeply controlling breath. She hadn’t wanted to come to dinner with her mother and Henry this evening at all, had guessed Lyon would be a guest too, but had known she couldn’t refuse when her mother pointed out that it was their first dinner party they had given together as husband and wife, and that it would look very odd if her only child weren’t present. And so Silke had gritted her teeth and come to the dinner party. Only to find Lyon had arrived ahead of her, looking handsomely remote in a black dinner-suit and snowy white shirt.
It had been easy to avoid talking to him as they sipped their drinks before the meal, Henry eager to introduce his new family to his friends. And Silke had been only too happy to fall in with this arrangement. Although she had been very much aware of Lyon’s brooding presence in the room as she laughed and chatted with the other guests.
But as they all took their seats at the beautifully set dinner-table in her mother’s new home, it became obvious she wasn’t going to be able to ignore Lyon any longer; he was seated right next to her! It should have occurred to her that this might be the case, she now realised. After all, the other eight people here were all married couples; it was only natural, given the circumstances, that Lyon would be her dinner partner for the evening. She cursed the fact now that she hadn’t asked if she could bring someone with her. Anyone!
She forced herself to look directly at him now, after having avoided doing so for the last half-hour. Although she had always known exactly where he was in the room, she acknowledged self-derisively. She had needed to know where he was so that she could avoid him!
But his mention now of ‘having dinner together’ only succeeded in bringing so vividly to mind the evening when they hadn’t got as far as having dinner. Because they had ended up in her bed together instead!
She only hoped none of her inner turmoil at that memory showed as she coolly met his gaze. ‘So we are,’ she returned mildly, sitting back slightly as the avocado accompanied by prawns was placed in front of her.
Lyon waited until he had his own food before speaking to her again. ‘Is that jewellery some of your own design?’
It had been the last thing Silke had expected him to say, and she almost choked on a prawn as she turned to look at him. Of all the things he could have said...! What did it matter whether the chunky gold bracelet, earrings and necklace were her design; the two of them had made love a week ago!
But he didn’t seem to be troubled by the same memories, was looking at the chunky bracelet on her wrist with cool interest. Well, maybe he just wasn’t troubled by those memories; after all, it had hardly been the first time for him, had it? And any concern he might have had that it had been that for her seemed to have gone.
‘Yes,’ she finally confirmed tautly, swallowing hard, the prawn feeling as if it were stuck in her throat now. And she had the rest of the meal to get through yet—somehow!
She was hardly prepared for him to reach out to clasp her wrist with one of those beautifully tapered hands, lifting her hand towards him. Just the touch of his hand on her flesh was enough to make her want to wrench out of his grasp. It was an impulse she only succeeded in resisting with effort, forcing herself not to show any outward sign of her distress. Although she wasn’t sure she had managed to hide the slight trembling of the hand he held...
‘It’s beautiful,’ he murmured huskily, looking up suddenly, velvet-grey eyes holding her gaze.
Silke’s breath caught—and held. What was he doing? She glanced about them self-consciously, but none of the other guests appeared to have noticed their exchange, either talking or already eating their food. Silke turned back to Lyon, swallowing hard.
‘The bracelet,’ he continued softly. ‘It’s beautiful.’
She had known he meant the bracelet! Of course she had! What else could he have meant? Certainly not her hand? She only hoped the warmth in her cheeks didn’t give away the fact that briefly—very briefly!—she had thought that was exactly what he meant.
‘Thank you,’ she accepted distantly, firmly releasing her wrist before pointedly turning to the man who sat to her left, engaging him in lightly trivial conversation about the food. She couldn’t have said anything more to Lyon at that moment if she had tried! And she didn’t want to try, wanted a few minutes to collect her scattered wits.
Had Lyon done that deliberately? Did he know exactly how uncomfortable she felt about what had happened between them last week? She couldn’t believe he didn’t know, not in the circumstances. Was he playing with her? If he—
‘How’s James?’
Silke had been deeply lost in thought, her brief conversation over with the man seated to her left, but she looked up sharply at Lyon now, frowning.
‘James,’