To Have A Husband

‘I already know what you think, Harrie,’ Rome cut in gently, stepping forward to hand Quinn his drink before moving forward and lightly placing his free hand on one of Harrie’s tensed shoulders. ‘But Quinn is telling the truth, darling,’ he murmured huskily. ‘He—’

‘I don’t believe you—or him!’ Harrie stood up abruptly, moving away from that restraining hand to include Quinn in her angry glare, her body rigid with fury now as she faced the two of them across the room. ‘I simply do not believe Richard is capable of doing the things he has been accused of here today!’ she stated coldly, her head raised haughtily.

If anything she was even more beautiful in her anger, Quinn acknowledged abstractly. Totally wrong in her summing up of the situation, of course, but extremely beautiful, her eyes flashing like emeralds, an attractive flush to her cheeks, her breasts pert beneath the tailored suit, her legs long and shapely. Beautiful, and desirable. Although Quinn had never questioned why Rome was involved with her, only the sense of mixing business with pleasure. Even with a woman as beautiful as Harrie…

And the question also remained, why was she so angry?

Although the answer to that seemed to lie in the way she’d claimed Richard wasn’t capable of the things he’d been accused of today…

Quinn’s eyes narrowed on her, giving her the second reassessment of the afternoon. The first had been when he’d realised she was the lawyer Rome had previously spoken of. The second was the realisation that she knew Richard Heaton. The question was, how well did she know him? Well enough to claim his innocence, it seemed.

He looked curiously at the older man, wondering if Rome had already known of Harrie’s friendship with the young reporter. Because he certainly couldn’t be in any doubt about it now!

‘Then you would be wrong, Harrie,’ Rome told her sadly. ‘I’m afraid Richard Heaton is guilty of everything Quinn has accused him of today. And much more,’ he added with distaste. ‘Darling, I’m sorry you’ve had to hear the truth about him in this particular way, but—’

‘Now that I definitely don’t believe,’ she cut in with a bitter laugh. ‘You’re enjoying every moment of this! How long have you known?’ she prompted hardly, eyes narrowed accusingly on the older man.

‘Harrie, I’m sure Quinn isn’t in the least interested in listening to our personal business—’

‘I’m not sure I believe that, either!’ She turned to once again include Quinn in her furious glare, scornfully taking in his relaxed pose in the armchair, the partially drunk glass of whisky he held in his hand. ‘You’ve drawn some pretty damning conclusions yourself here this afternoon, Mr McBride,’ she told him disgustedly. ‘All of which are totally wrong,’ she added with satisfaction, a contemptuous twist to her red-painted lips. ‘I sincerely hope—for your sake!—that the things you’ve said about Richard Heaton aren’t as erroneous!’

Quinn stiffened in his chair, slowly sitting up straighter, his own eyes narrowed now as he sat forward in his seat. ‘That sounds decidedly like a threat…?’ he murmured slowly.

She was breathing deeply in her agitation. ‘I—’

‘Take care, Harrie,’ Rome cut in gently. ‘Quinn is a guest in my home,’ he reminded her softly.

For a few brief moments she continued to glare at the two men, and then with an obvious visible effort, she forced herself to relax, to calm down, although the coldly angry look remained on her beautiful face.

‘So he is,’ she finally murmured gratingly. ‘Fortunately, I’m not—so I’ll take this opportunity to remove myself. That way you can continue this character assassination of Richard Heaton without fear of interruption!’ she added disgustedly.

‘Harrie—’

‘Rome,’ she came back coldly, bending to pick up the shoulder bag she’d put down earlier.

The older man sighed. ‘Will you be back down tomorrow?’

Now Quinn did feel as if he were intruding. The last thing he wanted was to be witness to a man of Rome Summer’s wealth and power grovelling apologetically to his mistress—especially when, as far as Quinn could see, the beautiful Harrie was the one who was in the wrong!

Quinn stood up. ‘Perhaps I should leave the two of you to talk—’

‘That won’t be necessary, Mr McBride,’ Harrie cut in derisively. ‘Rome and I have said all we have to say to each other—for the moment,’ she added warningly for Rome Summer alone. ‘And I have no idea when I’ll be back, Rome,’ she answered him.

‘Are you going to Richard Heaton?’ the older man demanded gratingly.

Harrie’s head went up challengingly. ‘And if I am?’

Rome gave an inclination of his head. ‘Then I advise you to remember that you agreed the conversation we’ve had here today would be confidential,’ he reminded softly.

Green eyes glittered like twin jewels. ‘Now who’s the one making threats?’

Rome shrugged. ‘That’s only your interpretation of what I said, darling.’ He sighed. ‘I was merely reminding you not to let your personal feelings cloud your professional judgement.’

Harrie gave a humourless laugh. ‘Personal feelings?’ she echoed scornfully. ‘I didn’t know I was allowed to have any of those—at least, none that don’t include the Summer family! But to set your mind at rest, Rome, I am well aware of my professional obligations to you,’ she assured him disgustedly before turning to Quinn. ‘Just one more question, Mr McBride…?’

He met her gaze unblinkingly. ‘Yes?’

‘Going on a hypothetical assumption that the things you’ve said about Richard are true,’ she bit out scornfully, leaving them in no doubt as to what she thought of those accusations, ‘isn’t his source of this information as much as a danger—to your sister—as you claim Richard could be?’

Bright, Quinn acknowledged appreciatively. Still furiously angry at what he had to say about Richard Heaton, but able to think logically in spite of it.

‘His source,’ Quinn drawled contemptuously as he thought of Andrew McDonald, the man his sister had so briefly become involved with, ‘if they should choose to go to the press themselves with this story, is in a position to lose as much as Corinne.’ The other man had a wife and two children who had no idea of his involvement with another woman!

‘I see,’ Harrie murmured, her gaze narrowed on him consideringly—giving Quinn the distinct impression she knew exactly what sort of threat had been brought to bear on that particular source! ‘I won’t say it’s been nice meeting you, Mr McBride, because—’

‘Harrie!’ Rome cut in sharply.

She sighed deeply before drawing in a controlling breath, forcing the semblance of a smile onto her lips, although it came out looking more like a grimace, Quinn thought.

This meeting wasn’t turning out at all as Quinn had hoped that it would: a conversation with Rome Summer, an agreement or otherwise to the other man helping him with this situation, and then he would be on his way. A personal element on the part of the other man hadn’t been part of Quinn’s suppositions, certainly not to the extent that the other man’s girlfriend obviously had some sort of relationship herself with Richard Heaton! It changed things somewhat, although not, Quinn now had reason to believe, to the point that Rome Summer refused to help him. And Corinne…

‘Well, you’ve had your “meeting” with the “stranger”, Mr McBride,’ Harrie told him tauntingly. ‘Although not with the tall, dark female you obviously hoped it would be! You’ve also successfully maligned the reputation of a man you obviously haven’t even met,’ she snapped accusingly. ‘I hope you’re proud of yourself!’ she added disgustedly before striding across the room and closing the door forcefully behind her as she left.

Quinn stared at the closed door slightly dazedly, remembering all too clearly where he’d heard Harrie’s words before. At the fête earlier this afternoon… From the gypsy…

But how on earth—?

‘I hope you’ll excuse my eldest daughter, Quinn,’ Rome told him with a heavy sigh. ‘I’m afraid she’s rather hurt and angry at the moment—mostly with me, I hasten to add!—and that isn’t conducive to her remembering her manners!’

Quinn was still recovering from the shock of realising that the only way that Harrie could possibly have known of his teasing conversation with Gypsy Rosa earlier this afternoon was if she were the fortune-teller herself!

It took several stunned seconds for him to realise exactly what else Rome had just said.

Daughter…?

Harrie was Rome Summer’s daughter?

‘Your eldest daughter…?’ Quinn finally prompted huskily, still blinking dazedly.

It wasn’t very often he was disconcerted, but at the moment it had happened twice within a few seconds of each other. It seemed that not only was Harrie the gypsy from this afternoon’s fête, but she was also Rome’s daughter…?

Rome gave a rueful grimace. ‘Harriet. But we’ve always called her Harrie. I had a feeling earlier when you mentioned my children that you had no idea those daughters were actually twenty-nine, twenty-seven and twenty-five respectively,’ he murmured proudly.

‘Or that Harrie was one of them,’ Quinn confirmed distractedly, still trying to come to terms with the true relationship between Rome and the beautiful Harrie.

Father and daughter. Not lover and mistress. As he had assumed. And as Harrie, from her earlier scornful remark, had obviously known he’d assumed!

Hell!