'My conclusion will be exactly the same, tomorrow or any other day!' Andie snapped before sweeping from the room, leaving a trail of her heady perfume in her wake.
Adam almost fell into the chair, putting his hands up to cover his face as he gave a pained groan.
Andie had always tried to be his friend!
Until he had ruined even that … ?
CHAPTER FOUR
'JUST how long did you think you could keep the existence of my child from me?'
Andie flinched at the sound of that angrily accusing voice, but she didn't open her eyes, or move from her prone position on the sun-lounger on the terrace of her father's Majorcan villa.
His child, he had said …
Yes, she was carrying his child. The baby was hers too, of course, but she knew him well enough to realise he wouldn't just stand by and ignore his own child.
Although, as he seemed to have guessed, that hadn't prevented Andie wanting to stop him from having that knowledge for as long as possible. Which was what she was doing in Majorca in the first place.
It had started out as a germ of an idea, a need for a complete-if temporary!-break, away from the emotional pressures being brought to bear concerning her pregnancy. With no magazine to go to each weekday, and her father's attention thankfully occupied elsewhere, it hadn't been too difficult to make the move to the Majorcan sunshine for a few weeks. To put off, for a short time longer, the confrontation that now seemed to have come to her …
How had she ever got herself into this mess?
Ah, yes … she remembered now. It had begun, quite innocently, with an invitation to attend a party as Adam Munroe's partner. She gave a rueful smile as she remembered teasing him about the unexpected invitation …
'Don't tell me the eligible Adam Munroe has been stood up?' she taunted at the twenty-four hours' notice he had given her.
He shook his head unconcernedly. 'I was actually going to attend alone,' he drawled. 'But then I thought you might find it rather fun.'
'Run out of ambitious young actresses just longing to be seen on the arm of the influential film producer Adam Munroe?' Andie looked up from her desk to venture.
Adam grinned unabashedly, perched on the side of her desk. 'Tired of their unsubtle machinations,' he revealed. 'At least I know you don't have any ambitions to become an actress!'
Andie had to smile. 'Not the most charming invitation I've ever received!'
'But you'll come anyway?'
Why not? Her social calendar wasn't exactly overflowing with invitations. From choice, she acknowledged. No man, she had learnt through dating over the years, could in any way measure up to the man she was already in love with. The man who, for reasons of his own, was inviting her to spend tomorrow evening with him …
She looked up at Adam with searching eyes. What was it about this man that held her so enthralled? Oh, he was handsome enough, but then so were a lot of other men she had met. Adam could be incredibly charming too-but that wasn't unique, either. No, she had no idea why it should be this man she loved; she only knew that she did. That she always had.
And the temptation to spend an evening in his company was just too great to refuse …
'Okay, Adam,' she decided firmly-before she could have second thoughts about the prudence of going out with him at all. 'What time shall I be ready? And what do you want me to wear?'
'Eight o'clock.' He smiled his pleasure in her acquiescence. 'And I wouldn't presume to tell you what you should wear.'
Andie gave a wry smile. 'It's never stopped you before!' she clearly remembered one occasion, that of her eighteenth birthday, when Adam had been less than polite concerning the figure-hugging red dress she had been wearing!
He continued to grin. 'Maybe I'm getting more circumspect in my old age,' he drawled.
Andie quirked one mocking brow. 'I doubt that very much. Okay, Adam, I'll use my own judgement,' she assured him.
And she did, the knee-length shimmering silver dress clinging lovingly to every curve of her body, the low neckline revealing a tempting expanse of creamy breasts. Her blonde hair she left loose down the length of her spine, silver lights reflecting from the dress, her jewellery of chunky gold earrings and bracelet, giving her a delicacy that was refuted by the teasing mischief lurking in her deep green gaze.
Adam, she was pleased to note, was completely bowled over by her appearance when she opened her apartment door to him the following evening.
'May I say, Miss Summer, that you dress up quite spectacularly?' he told her.
'And may I say, Mr Munroe, that so do you?' she returned flirtatiously in an effort to hide her own reaction to his lethal handsomeness in the black dinner suit and snowy white shirt. Not that she could hide her reaction completely, conscious of a pulse beating erratically at the base of her creamy throat.
'Your carriage awaits, my lady.' He gave a theatrical sweep of his arm.
Her 'carriage' consisted of Adam's sleek green Jaguar sports car. She showed a long expanse of slenderly silky leg as Adam held the door open for her to slip into the passenger seat.
She gave him a reproving look as he got into the car beside her, still trying to pull her dress down to a respectable level. 'I can't help thinking, Adam, that you chose such a low car deliberately!'
He quirked blond brows at her before turning the key in the ignition. 'Actually, Andie-I can't help thinking the same thing!' he returned unrepentantly.
Adam drove out of London towards Berkshire, their hosts for the evening turning out to be the Grants, the film director Daniel, and his beautiful actress wife Carla Burton, the latter heavily pregnant with their second child.
There wasn't a single guest at the party that Andie didn't recognise from either film or television, and, while her own highly indulged upbringing meant she wasn't in the least overwhelmed by so many celebrities, she couldn't say she was exactly overjoyed when, shortly after their arrival, Adam, having provided her with a glass of champagne, excused himself to go and talk to the latest darling of the film world, Elizabeth King.
In fact, Adam's attention on the beautiful redhead was so intense over the next ten minutes that Andie couldn't help wondering why on earth he had needed to bring her here with him at all!
'Actress or television presenter?' The teasing male voice at her side drew her attention away from Adam and the beautiful actress.
She turned to find herself looking at the boyishly attractive comedian Gordon Andrews. 'Actually, I work on a women's magazine,' she revealed.
His eyes widened humorously. 'How on earth did a member of the press manage to get an invitation here?' He looked around them pointedly at the less-than-well-behaved guests, the champagne flowing liberally, along with the guests' inhibitions.
Andie laughed at his comical expression. 'I'm the senior editor, not a reporter.'
Gordon waggled his dark eyebrows expressively. 'I'd love to see the junior one-she must still be in nappies!'
She liked him, Andie decided, as Gordon seemed to have decided to stay at her side, his wicked brand of humour having her laughing out loud several times through the evening, thankfully diverting her attention away from Adam. Although she was still aware that Adam didn't leave Elizabeth King's side for a single minute, attentively supplying her with champagne and food if she looked like running out of either.
Damn him, Andie decided stubbornly. Stupidly, she had looked forward to this evening out with Adam-and as far as he was concerned she might just as well not exist!
In fact, she was surprised when, the party obviously drawing to a close at about three o'clock in the morning, Adam remembered to come and get her so that the two of them could leave together, she had half expected him to leave with Elizabeth King, too!
'Good party?' Adam finally asked rigidly in the darkness of the car as they drove through the quiet London streets, the rest of the journey having taken place in tension-filled silence.
'Excellent,' Andie came back tautly. 'Gordon Andrews is as funny off stage as he is on it.'
'I noticed you were enjoying yourself,' Adam observed sarcastically.
'Really?' Andie returned just as sarcastically.
Adam turned to her sharply in the confines of the car.
'And exactly what does that mean?' he snapped.
She gave a dismissive shrug of her shoulders. 'Elizabeth King is very beautiful.'
'I-'
'You just missed the turn to my apartment,' she interrupted.
His response was to immediately do an illegal U-turn in the middle of the road-something he wouldn't have stood a chance of doing if it weren't almost four o'clock on a Sunday morning!-bringing the Jaguar to a screeching halt outside the apartment building where she lived, before turning in his seat to look at her with steely grey eyes.