8 Magnificent Millionaires. Cathy Williams
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that since then her career hadn’t prospered. Her last film had been three years ago, and that had been a resounding flop at the box office. If the papers were to be believed, the latest news was that she was in some fancy drying-out clinic in California, getting help for her alcoholism. Liadan didn’t read the papers much herself but her friends Jennie and Mel were avid consumers of the gossip columns.
‘I’ll tell him no such thing! Now, please just go. Mr Jacobs is working and he doesn’t like to be disturbed when he’s—’
‘It’s okay, Liadan. I’ll speak with Ms Kendall.’
She spun round in surprise at his voice, and her limbs went strangely weak at the sight of her employer. He was dressed in his usual black; the silver in his hair seemed even more eye-catching against his otherwise sable locks and his eyes were very dark and grave. Weary, almost. The wave of sympathy that rushed through Liadan couldn’t be tamped.
‘I’ll give you five minutes, ten at the most. Come into my study.’ His voice curt, Adrian waited briefly for Cheryl Kendall to step inside before striding ahead of her down the corridor.
The stop-start hum of the dryer resounding in her ears, Liadan folded the pile of clothing she had already dried on top of the washing machine, her movements automatic and efficient even as her mind was distracted. Both curious and concerned about the conversation that was going on upstairs right now in Adrian’s study, she prayed that Cheryl Kendall’s paper or magazine, whatever it was, was not going to print anything injurious or wounding to him. How had Adrian come to meet the famous actress in the first place, and why had their affair ended? Had Petra found him as cold as he appeared? Had she ever managed to get past some of those impenetrable layers that Adrian so obviously protected himself with?
The thought made Liadan stop what she was doing and stare unseeingly ahead. How had she known that? Adrian Jacobs had been deeply wounded—maybe beyond repair—and now strove to do everything in his power to prevent himself from ever being so badly hurt again. One only had to read his books to know that he was a man who had delved deeply into the realms of his own shadow. You’d have to have spent a lot of time exploring the darker side of the human psyche to come up with some of the twisted and terrifying plots that Adrian came up with in his work. And Liadan’s summing-up of what she’d read had been right. There were no redeeming solutions for the human condition in his stories. Not even the merest flicker of light.
‘Liadan? Where are you?’
Hearing him call her name, Liadan put her hands up to quell the sudden rush of heat in her cheeks, took a moment to compose herself, then ran up the back stairs into the open hallway to find him waiting for her.
‘I’m here. What’s wrong?’
For a brief second, Adrian almost forgot what he’d called her for. Again, that gentle perfume reminded him of May blossoms, and the sudden sight of her—all flushed cheeks and big blue eyes and pretty red-gold hair seizing an unexpected chance at liberty from its bun—made him think impossibly of spring. Of hope renewed and life restored after the dead of winter…For a moment the tightening in his throat made it impossible to speak.
‘Nothing’s wrong. What, did you think I’d be intimidated by some pushy little journo wearing too much make-up with an inflated sense of her own importance? You clearly don’t know the newspaper game like I do.’
‘Oh.’ Feeling the full disturbing force of his gaze, Liadan linked her hands together in front of her, then in the next second unlinked them and folded her arms self-consciously across her chest. Those deep, dark eyes of his were profoundly unsettling. They made Liadan far too aware of her own femininity in a way that no other man had made her feel before. Yet when he glanced away again, clearly too aloof to have stirred such an intimate response, it was as if she’d dreamt the whole thing and her feelings had seriously misled her. ‘You’re all right, then?’
He grimaced. ‘Yes, I’m fine. Come into my study, will you? I need your help.’
The sight that met her on entering Adrian’s room had Liadan’s blue eyes widening in shock. Practically every inch of floor space was covered in loose pages of manuscript, a chair was upturned and the broken remains of what was once a charming blue and white porcelain coffee cup littered the rug by the piano.
‘You can see why I need help,’ Adrian said dryly.
‘What happened?’ Getting down on her knees to recover some of the loose pages, Liadan sensed Adrian start to do the same behind her, the warm, woody drift of his cologne catching her unawares and making her stomach turn hollow.
‘My temper happened. People like Ms Kendall have a way of bringing out the worst in me.’
‘I can see that.’ Reaching forward to grab a further wad of papers, Liadan sensed Adrian grow still. ‘What’s the matter?’ Turning her head, she saw a tic in the side of his jaw and his eyes turn dark as molasses.
‘Why don’t you start on the other side of the room?’ he said lightly, the beginnings of a very wry smile tugging at the edges of his usually severe mouth.
‘Why?’
‘Take it from me, your current position is far too distracting, and I’m only human.’
Feeling her face flame red-hot, to her shame Liadan quickly understood what he meant. She’d been wriggling around on the floor retrieving papers with her bottom stuck up in the air, and with not one notion that Adrian was behind her appreciating the view…
Getting quickly to her feet she beat a swift retreat to the other side of the large room. ‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t apologise, Miss Willow. It’s the best thing that’s happened to me all day.’
Concluding it was probably wise not to say anything for the next few minutes in case she embarrassed herself even further, Liadan concentrated on the task in hand, her mind racing, wishing she could erase what had just happened and start all over again.
‘I have to commend your lack of curiosity, Liadan,’ Adrian drawled. ‘You didn’t ask what Ms Kendall was threatening to print about me and Petra Collins.’
‘It’s none of my business.’ Straightening the pages in her hands, Liadan chose to keep her gaze on the neat, uniform type rather than direct it at Adrian.
‘They’re threatening to print that Petra was expecting my child—that I made her have an abortion.’
Swallowing hard, Liadan finally looked up. She met Adrian’s steady dark gaze without a flinch. ‘What do you expect me to say to that?’
‘It’s a rare woman in my experience who has no curiosity.’
‘Your personal business is your business, Mr Jacobs. I’m only your employee.’
‘What if I choose to confide in you, Liadan? Would that be too big a burden for those slender shoulders of yours? And by the way…my name is Adrian.’
Feeling heat overwhelm her like the rising steam from water being poured onto hot coals, Liadan lowered the papers to her lap and told herself that she was imagining this whole unbelievable scenario. Why on earth would a man like Adrian Jacobs confide in a woman he had known barely a scant three days when Kate had warned her that he was a closed book, a taciturn loner who wanted the least possible contact with the rest of the human race?
‘If you want someone to talk to, then of course I’m willing to listen. You have my word what you say will go no further than this room.’
‘I think I already know that, Liadan. That’s why I’m going to tell you.’
CHAPTER FOUR
‘I WAS introduced to her at dinner at the Dorchester in London by a mutual friend who happens to be a film director.’ Straightening to his full height, Adrian paused as if carefully weighing the words he was about to speak. A sudden ferocious gust of wind rattled the windowpane, startling them both with an eerie whistling sound that sent a chill racing down