She was lovely. Tipsy after too many champagne cocktails and without very much to eat, but at least they’d escaped the party early, and she was quite irresistibly lovely.
With a practised touch, he caressed the creamy curve of her shoulder and she giggled. Damn. Why did champagne make girls giggle?
Still. Her skin was soft and warm and her figure was exquisite and, for a repeat of the night they’d shared last weekend, Zac could forgive her giggling.
With a firm hand cradling her bared shoulders, he leaned closer to press a kiss to the back of her neck. His lips brushed her skin. She giggled again, but she smelled delicious and Zac’s anticipation was acute as he trailed a seductive line of kisses over her shoulder.
The sweet moment was spoiled by the sudden buzz of his mobile phone and Zac swore beneath his breath as he sent a frustrated glare in the direction of the armchair where he’d dumped the phone along with his jacket and tie.
‘I’ll get it!’ the girl squealed.
‘No, don’t bother. Leave it.’
Too late. She’d already wriggled free and was diving for the chair, laughing excitedly, as if answering his phone was the greatest game.
* * *
Chloe suppressed a groan when she heard the slightly slurred female’s voice on the line.
‘Hi, there!’ a girl chirped. ‘Kung Fu’s Chinese Takeaway. How can I help you?’
‘Hi, Jasmine.’ Chloe was unfortunately familiar with most of her boss’s female ‘friends’. They were usually blessed with beauty rather than brains, which meant they were always ringing him at work, and Chloe spent far too much time holding them at bay, taking their messages, placating them with promises that Mr Corrigan would return their calls as soon as he was free, and generally acting as a go-between. ‘Hold the jokes,’ she said now. ‘And just put Zac on.’
‘Jasmine?’ The voice on the end of the line was slightly sloshed and distinctly peeved. ‘Who’s Jasmine?’ Her voice rose several decibels. ‘Zac, who’s Jasmine?’
Oops. Under other circumstances, Chloe might have apologised or tried to reassure the silly girl, but tonight she simply spoke loudly and very clearly. ‘This is Mr Corrigan’s PA and the matter is urgent. I need to speak to him straight away.’
‘All right, all right.’ The girl was sulky now. ‘Keep your hair on.’ There was a shuffling, possibly stumbling sound. ‘Mr Corr-i-gan,’ she said next, sounding out the syllables in a mocking sing-song. ‘Your PA wants you and she says you’d better hurry up.’ This was followed by a burst of ridiculous giggling.
‘Give that here!’ Zac sounded impatient and a moment later he was on the line. ‘Chloe, what’s up? What the hell’s the matter?’
‘An urgent phone call has come through for you from London,’ she said. ‘From the police. At a hospital.’
‘In London?’ There was no missing the shock in his voice.
‘Yes. I’m afraid it’s urgent, Zac. The policeman wants you to call him immediately.’
There was a shuddering gasp, then another sound that might have been—
No. It couldn’t have been a sob. Chloe knew her ears were deceiving her. During three years in this job she’d never detected a single crack in Zac Corrigan’s habitual toughness.
‘Right.’ His voice was still different, almost broken and very un-Zac-like. ‘Can you give me the number?’
Chloe told him and listened as he repeated it. He still sounded shaken and she felt a bit sick. Normally, she refused to allow herself any sympathy for her boss’s personal life, which was as messy as a dog’s breakfast, as far as she was concerned. But this situation was different. Frightening. She couldn’t recall any connection between her boss and London and she thought she knew almost everything about him.
‘I’ll let you know if I need you,’ he said.
* * *
Zac was as tense as a man facing a firing squad as he dialled the London number. This emergency had to involve Liv. He was sure of it. He’d been trying to convince himself that his little sister was an adult now and quite capable of running her own life, especially after she’d ignored his protests and left for England with her no-hoper boyfriend... But...
Liv.
His baby sister...
All that was left of his family...
His responsibility...
‘Hello,’ said a businesslike English voice. ‘Sergeant Davies speaking.’
‘This is Zac Corrigan.’ His voice cracked and he swallowed. ‘I believe you’re trying to contact me.’
‘Ah, yes, Mr Corrigan.’ The policeman’s tone was instantly gentler, a fact that did nothing to allay Zac’s fears. ‘Can I please confirm that you are Zachary James Corrigan?’
‘Yes.’ What had Liv done? Not another drug overdose, surely? When he’d rung her two weeks ago, she’d promised him she was still off the drugs, all drugs. She’d been clean for over a year.
‘And you’re the brother of Olivia Rose Corrigan?’
‘Yes, I am. I was told you’re calling from a hospital. What’s this about?’
‘I’m sorry, Mr Corrigan,’ the policeman said. ‘Your sister died a short while ago as the result of a road accident.’
Oh, God.
It wasn’t possible.
Shock exploded through Zac, flashing agonising heat, threatening to topple him. Liv couldn’t be dead. It simply was not possible.
‘I’m sorry,’ Sergeant Davies said again.
‘I—I see,’ Zac managed. A stupid thing to say, but his mind was numb. With terror. With pain.
‘Do you have any relatives living in the UK?’ the policeman asked.
‘No.’ Sweat was pouring off Zac now. Vaguely, he was aware of the girl, Daisy, with the black dress dangling off her shoulders. She was hovering close, frowning at him, her heavily made-up eyes brimming with vacuous curiosity. He turned his back on her.
‘Then I take it you’ll be prepared to be our contact for any arrangements?’
‘Yes,’ Zac said stiffly. ‘But tell me what happened.’
‘I’ll pass you onto someone from the hospital, sir. The doctor will be able to answer all your questions.’
Dizzy and sick, Zac waited desperately as the phone went through several clicks and then a female voice spoke.
‘Mr Corrigan?’
‘Yes,’ he said dully.
‘This is Dr Jameson from the maternity ward.’
Maternity? She was joking, surely?
‘I’m very sorry, Mr Corrigan. Your sister was brought to our hospital after a vehicle accident. There were extensive head and chest injuries.’
Zac winced. Head and chest. The worst.
‘Olivia was rushed to theatre and we did our very best, but the injuries were too extensive.’ A slight pause. ‘I’m afraid we couldn’t save her.’
Zac went cold all over. So there it was. Two people had confirmed the impossible. His greatest fear was a reality. After all these years when he’d tried and failed with Liv, he’d now failed her abysmally...
And it was too late to try again.
He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Horror lashed at him as he fought off images of Liv’s