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Harrie gave him a frowning look beneath lowered dark lashes; he made those ‘three daughters’ sound like hellions! Something she knew they most certainly were not!
‘But a lot of fun and happiness, too,’ Rome added affectionately.
‘Mmm,’ Quinn agreed distractedly, still moving restlessly about the room. ‘My sister married five years ago, but unfortunately her husband died of cancer two years later. Corinne was, naturally, devastated,’ he murmured heavily. ‘She was inconsolable for the first year after Paul died. And then, when she finally felt able to look at the world again, she—she made a mistake,’ he added firmly, looking challengingly across the room as he did so.
For her own part, he could have saved himself the trouble, Harrie puzzled thoughtfully; she was no nearer knowing what point he was trying to make than she had been when she’d arrived a few minutes ago for this meeting! Although she very much doubted that Rome, despite his encouragingly friendly expression, was as uninformed…
‘It happens to the best of us,’ Rome conceded gently.
Quinn McBride’s mouth set grimly. ‘Not to the woman who is about to marry the MP tipped to be a future prime minister of the country!’
Corinne Westley, Harrie suddenly realised dazedly; Quinn’s sister was Corinne Westley. Up till now she’d been going on the surname McBride, which had totally thrown her, but Corinne’s previous marriage now explained that mistake.
Corinne Westley… Tall, beautiful, blonde, elegant, engaged to marry the MP, David Hampton. The wedding was to take place later in the summer, and her photograph, usually at some charity occasion or a political function, appeared in the tabloids nowadays almost as much as the equally elegant and beautiful Princess Diana had once done.
And a reporter working on Rome’s newspaper had uncovered some sort of scandal involving the beautiful Corinne that could bring all of that particular castle tumbling to the ground…
No wonder Quinn McBride was worried! Although, in the circumstances, she didn’t know what he expected Rome to do about it.
‘Why don’t you sit down again, Quinn?’ Rome invited smoothly. ‘I’ll have some fresh tea sent in.’ He picked up the telephone and rang down in the kitchen. ‘And then you can explain all this to us quietly and calmly.’
Harrie could see by Quinn McBride’s momentarily irritated expression that he was about to argue the point, that he already considered he was discussing all of this ‘quietly and calmly’! And then he obviously thought better of it, sitting back in the chair he had so recently vacated, staring rigidly out of the window as Rome dealt with the ordering of the fresh pot of tea.
It gave Harrie chance to study the younger man further. At thirty-nine, he was ten years her senior, but she could see from the faint sprinkling of grey in the dark hair at his temples, the lines beside his nose and mouth, that those ten years hadn’t been easy ones. And, from the sound of it, the reasons for that were understandable; Quinn McBride had had the onerous burden of responsibility thrust upon him at a very young age, both for his younger sister and, even more heavily, as chairman of a bank. His own youth had probably been put permanently on hold!
She reached out impulsively and lightly touched his arm as it rested on the side of the chair. ‘I’m sure Rome will help sort this out,’ she assured him softly; underneath all that money and power, she knew that Rome was really a softie at heart.
Aqua-blue eyes were turned to her glacially. ‘Unfortunately, this isn’t something that can be “sorted out” by the gift of a diamond bracelet, or the promise of a weekend in Paris,’ Quinn answered her contemptuously.
Harrie pulled her hand away from his arm so quickly it was as if she had been burnt. She’d been right about him earlier; he did think she was Rome’s mistress. And a very shallow one at that!
She looked at Quinn with narrowed green eyes, back in her role of lawyer now, deeply regretting her completely feminine reaction to his obvious worry concerning his sister. ‘The price of happiness comes a little higher than that nowadays,’ she bit out harshly.
Those aqua-blue eyes also narrowed. ‘I’ve heard something similar to that once before today…’ he murmured in a puzzled voice.
Harrie’s gaze didn’t waver. ‘If your attitude continues to be as unyielding as it appears to be today, my guess is you’re going to hear it a lot more in the future, too!’ she told him scornfully.
His mouth thinned angrily. ‘I—’
‘Tea will be here directly,’ Rome put in cheerfully. ‘I don’t suppose you would like to join us for dinner this evening, Quinn?’ he pressed lightly.
Harrie turned to him with accusing eyes. Quinn McBride, despite his obvious genuine love and concern for his sister, was one of the rudest most arrogant men Harrie had ever met—and that was saying something! The last thing she wanted at this moment was the anticipation of having to sit down to dinner with him this evening too!
Quinn’s mouth twisted ruefully. ‘Perhaps you should wait and hear the rest of what I have to say before making such an invitation,’ he drawled mockingly.
Rome laughed softly. ‘I doubt that will make the slightest difference,’ he assured, obviously enjoying the other man’s company despite the gravity of the situation Quinn wanted to discuss with him.
Quinn gave an inclination of his head. ‘Nevertheless, I think—’
‘Ah, tea,’ Rome said with satisfaction as, after the briefest of knocks, the door opened. ‘Delivered by the beautiful Audrey, no less!’ He smiled his thanks to the other woman as he moved to take the laden tray from her.
Audrey Archer, forty-two years of age, petite and blonde, and undoubtedly beautiful, had been Rome’s secretary and assistant for the last twelve years—and her slightly exasperated glance in Rome’s direction as he took the tray from her unresisting hands showed she wasn’t in the least impressed by his flattery. Flannel, Audrey called it. And she was undoubtedly right!
But at least the light-hearted incident had diverted the attention for a few minutes, giving Harrie time to recover from the insult Quinn McBride had delivered to her without so much as a second’s hesitation. He’d obviously summed up not only her, but also what he believed to be the situation between Rome and herself. Pompous ass! she inwardly repeated her earlier summing up of him.
She rejoined the conversation to find that Rome had introduced Audrey to Quinn McBride, but also to hear Rome inform Audrey to tell Cook there would be one more for dinner. Obviously Quinn McBride was staying whether he wanted to or not!
‘Leave the number for dinner as it is, Audrey,’ she told the other woman pleasantly. ‘I have to go back to town in a couple of hours,’ she explained at Rome’s questioning look.
She noticed there was no such look from Quinn McBride, the mockery of his gaze telling her he knew exactly why she was leaving earlier than obviously expected—and that he was amused by the fact!
Whereas Rome didn’t look at all pleased by her change of plan. ‘You made no mention of that this morning,’ he bit out, giving her a frowning look.
Harrie decided he could frown all he liked; she would not subject herself to any more of Quinn McBride’s insulting company than she had to. And for the moment she’d no choice but to sit out the rest of this meeting, but this evening, she considered, was her own time, and she would spend it how she wanted to—and that most assuredly did not include being in Quinn McBride’s arrogant company!
She shrugged unconcernedly. ‘I’m sure you’ll cope without me,’ she mocked lightly.
‘That’s hardly the point,’ Rome bit out impatiently. ‘You—’
‘Andie is feeling a little better now, Rome,’ Audrey cut in smoothly. ‘I said you would probably pop up later,’ she added in parting.
‘Half an hour or so,’ Rome promised in a pleased voice.
From the abrupt change in Rome’s mood at the mention of Andie’s recovery, Harrie knew Audrey had succeeded in what she had set out to do—namely divert Rome’s displeasure away from Harrie. She turned to give Audrey a grateful smile before the other woman left the room, receiving a conspiratorial one back before Audrey closed the door softly behind her.
But Harrie’s smile faded as she turned back to find Quinn McBride watching her with narrowed eyes, obviously well aware of the silent exchange between the two women—and as obviously drawing his own conclusions!
Well, let him; she wasn’t answerable to him or anyone else for anything she did or said! Although Rome’s next comment wasn’t conducive to that impression!
‘Would you like to pour the tea while Quinn and I continue our discussion?’ he invited distractedly, his thoughts having already returned to the matter in hand. ‘You were about to tell us about your sister’s “mistake”,’ he prompted softly.
Quinn McBride looked grim once again. ‘I don’t think I was about to go that far,’ he bit out curtly. ‘It’s enough that the mistake was made, without going into the details. It’s this reporter’s reaction to the knowledge of it that is really the point at issue,’ he added harshly. ‘I—ugh!’ He grimaced his distaste after distractedly taking a swallow of the tea Harrie had just poured for him.
In the absence of any preference from him as to how he liked his tea, Harrie had added milk and two sugars before placing the cup of tea on the table in front of him.
‘Too sweet?’ she prompted too ‘sweetly’ herself!
He carefully put the delicate china cup back down onto its matching saucer before turning to look at her. ‘For future reference—I do not take sugar in either tea or coffee,’ he bit out grimly.
For ‘future reference’, she had no intention of ever pouring him either brew ever again!
Rome’s narrowed gaze in her direction was sternly disapproving, bringing an end to her mental berating of the man who was fast becoming more than just an irritation. ‘Please—take mine.’ She held out a second, as yet untouched, cup to him. ‘And for your future reference, I don’t take sugar in tea or coffee, either,’ she added pleasantly, knowing by his throaty chuckle that Rome, at least, wasn’t fooled for a moment by that pleasantness.
‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ Quinn McBride acknowledged dryly before turning back to the older man. ‘Did you know that at least one reporter on your newspaper isn’t averse to using blackmail in exchange for information?’
Harrie was stunned by the question, although, having come to know a little of Quinn McBride in the last fifteen minutes or so, not nearly so much so by the bluntness with which it was made!
Blackmail…? What on earth was he talking about?
And he’d said this meeting had no legal, or illegal, connotations! The last Harrie had heard, blackmail very definitely came under the heading of the latter!
She glanced at Rome, not fooled for a moment by the calmness of his expression—the angry glitter of his eyes, prompted by the other man’s words, told a completely different story!
Rome placed his own cup and saucer back down on the coffee-table before meeting the younger man’s accusing gaze with a frown. ‘What sort of information?’ he pushed hardly.
‘Political, what else?’ Quinn snapped harshly. ‘When this man first approached Corinne with the information he had concerning her past, she believed it had to be the end of her relationship with David, that the last thing he needed to forward his political career was a wife who was going to bring disgrace to his name.’ His mouth twisted contemptuously. ‘But that isn’t what this particular man has in mind at all…’ he added grimly.
‘Go on,’ Rome prompted softly.
Harrie wished he would too. It wasn’t too difficult to guess what Corinne Westley’s ‘mistake’ might have been—a young widow, devastated by the premature death of her husband; she’d been prime material for a relationship she hoped might help to ease some of her pain. And, in this case, it sounded as if the partner in that relationship had probably been a married man…
As Rome said, it happened, especially when someone was that vulnerable. And also extremely beautiful.
But that was still no excuse for what seemed to be happening to Corinne Westley now…
Quinn sighed heavily. ‘This man believes, as do most of us in the City, that David will eventually become Prime Minister. The price for this reporter’s silence is any inside information Corinne can give him on political issues—hoping to make them political scandals!’
After what Quinn McBride had already intimated, this wasn’t too difficult to guess. And in view of his closeness to his sister, it was no wonder he was angry about it.
Rome looked just as angry. ‘The man’s name?’ he bit out in that flat, emotionless tone that showed just how angry he really was.
‘I have your guarantee that nothing we have said so far will go any further than this room?’ the other man prompted again cautiously.
The guarantee was unnecessary, Harrie knew that; Rome could be determined, even ruthless if the occasion warranted it, but he had never done an underhand thing in his life. And he couldn’t abide the characteristic in others. Harrie had no doubt that the reporter’s days of working on any newspaper Rome owned, and possibly any others either, were numbered!
She also felt that perhaps Quinn McBride was right, and her presence at this meeting wasn’t needed…
‘Rome?’ she quietly demanded his attention for a moment. ‘Perhaps it would be better, after all, if I left you and Mr McBride to finish this conversation in private?’
‘You’ll stay put,’ he rasped harshly, causing Harrie to look at him with puzzlement for his vehemence. ‘The man’s name?’ he prompted Quinn again.
Harrie turned to look at the other man too, knowing there was no point in reasoning with Rome on her own behalf when he was in this mood; ‘Rome’s inflexible mood’, she’d always called it. And it meant literally what it sounded like; generally the most affable and charming of men, Rome was implacable in this mood.
‘Richard Heaton,’ Quinn told him with distaste.
Harrie’s breath caught in her throat, the look she gave Rome now one of silent accusation. Because she could tell by the now calm expression on his face that he wasn’t in the least surprised by the name the other man had just given him—because he had already known it!
What else did he know…?
From the fact that he had told her this morning he wanted her presence at this meeting, and the way he’d told her to stay put a few minutes ago, Harrie had the feeling that he ‘knew’ quite a lot more than he had so far revealed to her.
Most important of all, she was sure that Rome knew of her own relationship with Richard Heaton…
CHAPTER TWO
HIS visual attention concentrated on Rome Summer, Quinn felt rather than saw the female lawyer’s reaction to what he’d just said. She’d stiffened defensively, as if, instead of merely stating the name of the man who was hounding his sister, he had actually personally insulted her.
He turned to her, to find her gaze fixed on Rome Summer, angrily, accusingly.
Quinn shook his head as he turned away, mentally dismissing the woman, and her…relationship, with his host; it was none of his business if she chose to be the plaything of a rich and influential man. He was here to sort out the complex and potentially damaging situation Corinne was caught in the middle of.
‘Richard Heaton…’ Rome repeated hardly.
Quinn nodded. ‘Do you know him?’ With all of Rome’s business interests, it wouldn’t be so surprising if he didn’t; efficient as he thought himself, Quinn couldn’t claim to know all of his employees, either!
‘Not personally, no,’ Rome answered curtly. ‘But I have heard of him,’ he added.
Causing the woman Harrie to give the older man another sharp look, Quinn noticed irritably. Beautiful as she was, he hadn’t wanted her here in the first place—and she’d done little since that time to warrant him changing that opinion!
‘Really?’ she prompted softly now, her emerald gaze narrowed on her employer.
Rome returned that probing gaze unflinchingly. ‘Really,’ he drawled mockingly. ‘Surprised?’ he added tauntingly.
The woman swallowed noticeably, looking slightly pale, Quinn noted curiously, giving him the definite impression that there was something going on in this conversation that he had no part of. But whatever it was, he, for one, certainly didn’t have the time for their games.
‘I—’
‘Could we get back to the subject?’ Quinn rasped his impatience over the top of what Harrie had been about to say. ‘The subject being that Richard Heaton is blackmailing your sister into giving him an edge on any political stories she might have access to, both now and in the future, in exchange for not making public her own past indiscretion?’ Rome stated bluntly.
This man was as forthright as he was himself, Quinn realised ruefully. But by the same token, he winced inwardly, in this case, a little softening of the truth might have been welcome. After all, it was his sister the two of them were discussing.
‘That is a very strong accusation to make, Mr McBride,’ Harrie put in coldly. ‘Blackmail of this kind is definitely a prosecutable offence. But, by the same token, so is slander. In which case, Mr McBride, I hope that you’re sure of your facts?’ she asked harshly, staring at him with glittering green eyes.
Quinn realised she was Rome’s legal advisor, but, nevertheless, he wished she would stop interrupting! There were only the three of them in the room, for God’s sake; who, if it should emerge that what he was telling them wasn’t the truth—which it most certainly was!—was going to make that claim of slander?
‘I’m very sure of my facts,’ he told her with dismissive contempt. ‘And I’m hoping that, between the two of us—’ he turned back to Rome ‘—we may be able to do something about it?’ It was a question, but at the same time it was also a plea for the other man’s help.
Which didn’t sit too well on his usually capably independent shoulders, Quinn acknowledged ruefully. Although he had a feeling that Harrie would claim that independence was actually arrogance!
Oh, damn what the woman thought of him, he told himself impatiently. She was beautiful, yes, but she was also the mistress of Rome Summer—which, in his eyes, nullified her legal capabilities in this instance. Even if they should turn out to be excellent. Which was yet to be proved…
‘Even if what you claim should turn out to be the truth, exactly what is it you expect Rome to do about the situation?’ she persisted in claiming his attention.
Much to Quinn’s increasing chagrin! In his experience, lawyers were there to advise when asked for that advice, and if not they remained silent until consulted. Rome’s personal relationship with this woman had given her an arrogance of her own that was completely intrusive in this particular situation.
Quinn gave her a humourless smile. ‘I think that’s for Rome and myself to decide—don’t you?’ he prompted insultingly.
She drew in a sharp breath as that insult registered, turning to her employer. ‘I strongly advise you not to become any more deeply involved in this situation until we have had chance to look into it ourselves,’ she told Rome stiltedly.
‘There’s nothing to talk about, darling,’ Rome murmured apologetically before turning to Quinn. ‘And I believe I already have an idea that may be the solution to your problem.’ He stood up to stroll over to the tray of drinks that stood on the dresser. ‘Tea is all well and good,’ he said lightly, ‘but sometimes something a little stronger is required; can I get you a whisky, Quinn?’ he offered, holding up the bottle of twelve-year-old malt.
Ordinarily, he would have refused, rarely indulging in the stuff, and never when he was working. But this wasn’t work as such, and he was invited for dinner…
‘Thanks,’ he accepted, becoming more convinced by the moment that Rome was going to help him in this situation. ‘Just a small one. No ice or water,’ he added as he relaxed back in his chair. They were both more than capable men; he was sure that between the two of them—Harrie’s aggravating presence excluded!—they could come up with a way to put an end to Corinne’s difficulty. They had better; he’d assured his sister that they would!
‘Harrie?’ Rome offered smoothly.
‘No—thank you,’ she refused stiffly, her cheeks bright red now where minutes ago they had been unnaturally pale, her hands tightly clasped together on her primly set knees. ‘Rome, I really think—’
