To Have A Husband

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—’