Joined By Marriage

‘No, I’m not. But when has that ever stopped patients calling me?’

Her father specialised in obstetrics, and as such was always on call!

‘I’ll get it,’ Gary offered, getting up from the table.

‘It’s probably for you, anyway,’ Brianna said; her brother seemed to have a veritable stream of girlfriends.

‘Or the rich Arab sheik for you!’ he called out cheekily before leaving the room.

‘Not if he’s dead!’ she returned lightly.

‘We’re all so normal.’ Her father slowly shook his head. ‘Just a normal happy family. And yet I have this strong feeling of impending doom, like a heavy weight hanging over us all. I—’

‘It’s for you, sis.’ Gary breezed back into the room. ‘A Mr Landris.’

‘You see.’ Her father sat back heavily, looking every inch his fifty-three years at that moment.

Nathan Landris! What on earth was he telephoning her for, at home, at seven o’clock in the evening? Unless he was a workaholic, it was way out of office hours. Come to think of it, he probably was a workaholic! But she didn’t have any business with him; it was his father she wanted to see. Surely this wasn’t a social call? Superman hadn’t burst out of Clark Kent’s clothing, had he, with Nathan Landris actually behaving like a man rather than a lawyer? No, it was the Incredible Hulk who burst out of his clothes, not Superman—

‘I don’t think he’s going to hang on all evening, Bri,’ Gary urged. ‘He sounded a bit pompous to me.’

Nathan Landris, the Ice Man, Brianna decided ruefully as she stood up, lightly touching her father on the shoulder as she passed him. ‘It will be okay, Dad,’ she assured him huskily. ‘You’ll see.’

‘I hope so.’ He still looked haggard. ‘I don’t want to lose you, Brianna.’

‘You won’t,’ she told him firmly, before going out into the hallway to take the call, picking up the telephone receiver. ‘Nathan,’ she greeted coolly. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?’ She started the conversation in the way she meant it to continue!

There was a moment’s pause on the other end of the line before an answer came. ‘It is a pleasure to speak to you, Miss Gibson, but I’m afraid this isn’t Nathan,’ said a male voice she didn’t recognise. ‘My name is Peter Landris. I’m Nathan’s father.’

She had realised it wasn’t Nathan the moment he spoke. Oh, the accent was just as refined, the voice almost as deep, but it certainly wasn’t Nathan. ‘I’m so sorry, Mr Landris.’ She gave an inward grimace at her faux pas. ‘I—’

‘Please don’t be,’ he returned smoothly. ‘It was a natural mistake for you to have made, in the circumstances.’

What circumstances? She was even more stunned now that she knew her caller was Landris Senior!

‘I understand that you spoke with my son earlier today,’ Peter Landris continued lightly, as if aware of her confusion and giving her time to recover.

Those circumstances. ‘Yes, I did.’ Now she couldn’t help wondering exactly what his son had said about their meeting! ‘He explained you were unavailable,’ she added pointedly; he obviously wasn’t unavailable this evening!

‘That’s the reason I’m calling, actually,’ he came back calmly. ‘I realise you have made an appointment to see me next week, but I find I have a window in my schedule tomorrow, at one o’clock, and wondered if you would like to come in and see me then instead?’

If she took a late lunch, and wasn’t gone too long... ‘Could you make it one-fifteen?’ She wasn’t sure how wide this window was!

‘I’m sure I can,’ he accepted briskly. ‘One-fifteen tomorrow, then, Miss Gibson.’ He abruptly ended the call.

Brianna quickly put down her own receiver. Not quite the Ice Man, but it was obvious where Nathan had learnt his terseness; the reason for the call was concluded, and so was the call itself!

What a strange family the Landrises were, Brianna decided, shaking her head ruefully. But she had an appointment to see Peter Landris, and it wasn’t for next week, either. Now all she had to do was go back to the dining-room and reassure her father...

Brianna sat across from Peter Landris, his desk between them. He was the man who had been walking down the corridor yesterday, as she was leaving, the man Nathan had asked to wait for him in his office—the man she had assumed was Nathan’s two o’clock appointment.

Peter Landris was the man whom Nathan had known she’d come here to see yesterday—and to whom she was sure he had deliberately chosen not to introduce her!

Her eyes sparkled deeply blue as she looked across the desk at the elder Landris. As she knew from yesterday, he was slightly shorter than his son, although he probably still reached six feet, and with the knowledge of their relationship she was now able to see the similarities between the two men. Both were dark-haired, although Peter Landris’s hair was liberally peppered with grey, and they both had those strongly hewn faces, dominated by cold, pale blue eyes. In fact, Peter Landris was looking at her very much as his son had done yesterday!

Brianna bristled resentfully. The Landris family, with their initial letter sent to her father three months ago, and the one sent directly to her yesterday, had already wreaked havoc in her previously harmonious life; she was the one who should be angry. And she was!

‘You wanted to see me, Mr Landris?’ she prompted. ‘This is my lunch hour and I really don’t have a lot of time.’

To her surprise, he smiled, and, as with his son, it changed his whole demeanour, giving warmth to his eyes and a boyish charm to those hard features. Brianna decided at that moment that she wouldn’t like to face either father or son in a court-room—their charm would be totally disconcerting, before the coldness ripped you to shreds!

‘It’s my lunchbreak too,’ he told her softly. ‘Perhaps I should order us some coffee and sandwiches?’

Her expression deepened. ‘Am I going to be here long enough to eat them?’ She had imagined this meeting wouldn’t take long at all!

His smile broadened as he picked up the telephone. ‘Nathan told me you’re extremely direct,’ he murmured, before talking briskly into the receiver. ‘Hazel—coffee and sandwiches for Miss Gibson and myself. Thank you.’ He ended the call as abruptly as he had with Brianna the evening before.

‘I can’t see the point of being any other way.’ Brianna answered his previous statement—although she could imagine all too well what Nathan had told his father about her. But, unlike poor Hazel, she had no reason to be in awe of either man. And she wasn’t. ‘I dislike mysteries, Mr Landris, and this has certainly become one.’

She no longer believed a mistake had been made concerning her identity; this man didn’t make those kind of mistakes! And if it wasn’t an error, then she wanted to know as quickly as possible what it was all about.

‘I’m sorry if you feel that way,’ Peter Landris returned politely. ‘It certainly wasn’t meant to be.’

‘Exactly what is “it”, Mr Landris?’ Brianna prompted impatiently.

‘There are certain formalities to get through before I—Ah, Hazel.’ He turned to the receptionist as she came in with a laden tray, moving several papers aside on his desk to make room for the woman to put it down. ‘Would you like to pour?’ he invited Brianna, once the receptionist had departed.

‘No, I do not want to pour!’ Brianna burst out irritably; they were never going to get to the point of the meeting at this rate! ‘Mr Landris—Oh good grief!’ she snapped, as there was a brief knock on the outer door before Nathan walked into the room. ‘This is worse than Piccadilly Circus in the rush hour!’ she muttered.

Although if she was annoyed at yet another interruption, then Nathan looked absolutely stunned to see her sitting in his father’s office. Which meant he couldn’t have known of his father’s telephone call to her last night...

‘Nathan,’ his father greeted without warmth. ‘As you can see, I’m busy,’ he added pointedly.

The younger man didn’t move. ‘You didn’t tell me you intended seeing Brianna today.’

His father reacted to what sounded like an accusation. ‘I don’t believe it’s something I have to inform you of, Nathan,’ he rasped.

‘And I don’t believe you introduced me to your father yesterday, either, Nathan,’ Brianna interrupted. Father and son seemed to be locked in a silent battle with each other, so much so that she, the apparent reason for the tension between them, was briefly forgotten.

Nathan glanced at her momentarily before turning to his father. ‘Perhaps we could talk in private for a few minutes,’ he bit out harshly. ‘In my office,’ he added determinedly.

His father didn’t so much as move a muscle. ‘I don’t think so, Nathan.’

‘Father, I really think—’

‘I told you, no, Nathan,’ his father said glacially. ‘Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’m in the middle of a confidential meeting with my client.’

Brianna turned to him sharply. Client? She most certainly was not a client of his. For one thing, clients deliberately sought out the services of lawyers, something she most certainly had not done where Peter Landris and his son were concerned. And, for another, she could never have afforded the prices of a prestigious firm like this one, so if either of them had the least idea of presenting her with a bill for these two meetings, they could just think again...!