Annie's Secret

How could he not have remembered Annie when they met earlier this morning?

A part of him had remembered, came the instant answer to that question. An inner part of him had recognised both Annie and the huskiness of her voice. The part of him—that recklessly overindulged young man who had almost ruined his family and caused his father’s heart attack—that Luc had long tried to bury in the deepest, darkest recesses of his mind.

Until he saw the unicorn tattoo on her lower back and all of those memories came rushing back with a vengeance.

Her hair had been longer four years ago, of course—a wild cascade of wavy chestnut curls that reached almost to her waist. Her body had been more youthfully rounded then too, her curves lush rather than athletically toned as they were now, and her face had also been fuller, the cheekbones not so defined.

But he should have remembered the deep blue of her eyes and those long dark lashes. Should have remembered how he had enjoyed the plump fullness of her lips when he’d kissed them. When she had kissed him, on the lips, and other more intimate parts of his body. He should have remembered—

‘I was your first lover!’ he exclaimed.

The colour flooded briefly back into those pale cheeks. ‘Yes. Well.’ She shifted uncomfortably. ‘Everyone has to start somewhere, don’t they?’

Except in Annie’s case Luc had been both the start and the finish.

What would Luc say, what would he do, if she told him that a child had resulted from their night together? That waiting for Annie at her mother’s home was a little boy of almost four, who had Luc’s dark curly hair and sturdy body, and the Balfour blue eyes shining brightly in a face that also bore a very strong resemblance to this man?

To his father.

To Luc.

Annie repressed a shiver of apprehension as she looked up at him, having no doubts that the hard, implacable man Luc now so obviously was took no prisoners. It was there for everyone to see in the hard arrogance of his face and the cold, remorseless darkness of those black uncompromising eyes.

No prisoners perhaps, but if he were to learn of Oliver’s existence, would Luc want to claim his son?

And if he did, what would Annie do about it? Oh, she wouldn’t allow him to take Oliver from her, never that, but would Oliver want to know who his father was? One day maybe. And how would Oliver feel once he learnt that Annie could have told his father of his existence now but had chosen not to do so?

Annie needed time to think. To try to decide what to do for the best. For Oliver’s sake…

‘Would you please let go of me now, Luc?’ she requested calmly. ‘I think we’ve drawn enough attention to ourselves for one day, and I have another meeting to go to this afternoon,’ she added.

Luc’s eyes narrowed as his gaze raked over her face. A face that suddenly completely masked her inner emotions. ‘In that case we will dine together in my hotel suite this evening so that we can continue this conversation.’ He made it a statement rather than a question.

Her eyes widened. ‘I really don’t think—’

‘Think what you like, Annie, but your agreement is the price for my releasing you now,’ he added coolly.

‘The price for—!’ Annie glared. ‘You really have turned into an arrogant snake since we last met, haven’t you?’ she seethed.

Luc gave a hard, humourless smile as he slowly uncurled his fingers from her arm. ‘Perhaps I always was one.’

‘Perhaps,’ Annie said, aware that the anger she felt was the only reason her knees hadn’t buckled beneath her when Luc released her. This whole thing—meeting Luc again, torn between whether or not she should tell Luc about Oliver and what might happen once she had—was turning into her worst nightmare.

His mouth tightened. ‘Humour me, Annie.’

‘I have a feeling that far too many women have already done that!’ she retorted.

He gave a rueful smile. ‘Perhaps.’

Annie sighed her frustration with his obvious intractability. What should she do for the best? Should she tell Luc about Oliver or not? Not to tell him now that she had met him again seemed cruel to both Oliver and Luc, but at the same time Annie feared what Luc might do once he knew he had a three-year-old son.

She sighed again. ‘OK, Luc, I’ll have dinner with you this evening—on two conditions,’ she added swiftly as she saw the triumphant glitter in the depths of those coal-black eyes. ‘One, that I be allowed to leave when I want to.’

‘And if you wish to leave as soon as you have arrived?’

‘I won’t.’ She doubted she would be allowed to leave if she decided to tell him about Oliver!

‘How can I be sure of that?’

‘I don’t lie, remember?’ she pointed out.

‘Very well, I agree to your first condition.’

She looked at him from under long lashes. ‘Two, we dine in the hotel restaurant and not your hotel suite.’

He smiled mockingly. ‘You are…nervous at the thought of being alone with me?’

Nervous didn’t even begin to describe Annie’s feelings of apprehension concerning spending more time with him. She was only agreeing to have dinner with him at all because she already knew this older and harder Luc well enough to realise this situation needed closure. One way or another.

Besides, if she should decide to tell Luc about Oliver during dinner this evening, then Annie knew that the whole of the Balfour family would rise up protectively at any attempt by Luc to take Oliver away from her.

‘Not in the least,’ she denied easily as she turned to pick up her towel and bag. ‘I merely believe in the safety of numbers.’

‘So you are nervous of being alone with me,’ Luc drawled.

‘No, I’m not.’ She flicked back her shoulder-length hair as she turned to meet his gaze unflinchingly. ‘I’m merely hoping that the fact there are other people around—as there are now—will prevent me from giving in to the temptation I have to slap that look of satisfaction off your arrogant face!’

Luc gave an appreciative grin at this fiery response. ‘I will very much look forward to seeing you again at eight o’clock this evening, Annie.’

‘Well, that makes one of us, I suppose!’ she said smartly before turning to stride determinedly up the beach back to the hotel.

Luc remained standing where he was for several minutes after Annie had disappeared inside the hotel, his eyes narrowed in thoughtful contemplation. He had known her before. Intimately. So very intimately. And she had known him just as intimately.

The resentment and anger he had sensed in her this morning now made complete sense. The apprehension he had read in her expression a few minutes ago, almost a look of fear, did not.

What could she possibly have to fear from him?

Could it be that, like Luc, she grew hot at the memory of that night they had spent together? That she became aroused at the thought of the intimacies they had shared? That no matter how she denied it, they might share those intimacies again?

Or could Annie’s wariness of him be for another reason entirely…?

Chapter Three

‘YOU’RE just in time,’ the woman at the end of the row of seats at the back of the conference room commented as she scooted along so that Annie could sit down beside her.

Annie had been completely flustered by that encounter with Luc on the beach earlier—by her uncertainty as to whether or not she should tell him about Oliver during dinner this evening—that she’d had very little time to shower and dress in preparation for this afternoon’s meeting.

Consequently she’d only just managed to get into the conference room before the doors were closed. She sat down hurriedly now as the head of the conference stood to make several announcements before it came time to introduce the guest speaker for the afternoon, her thoughts still on the dilemma of whether or not to tell Luc about their son.