frowned. Rome owned a newspaper, yes, but she didn’t think the minutiae of the lives of the people that worked on it would be of any interest to him. In fact, she was sure of it!
Rome obviously shared her view. ‘Let me get this straight. One of the reporters from my newspaper is involved with your sister, and you want me—’
‘Certainly not!’ Quinn McBride cut in disgustedly. ‘My sister is—engaged to marry someone else completely,’ he rasped harshly. ‘This…reporter—for want of another word,’ he added contemptuously, ‘has information concerning my sister’s past—’
‘Something detrimental?’ Rome guessed, catching on fast to the other man’s angry tone. As he usually did…
It was the key to his success, of course. Outwardly pleasant and amiable, Rome nevertheless possessed a sharp intelligence, and a certain knowledge of his fellow human beings that had saved him from disaster more than once. Anyone who underestimated Rome was heading for disaster.
Although somehow Harrie didn’t think Quinn McBride fell into that category; she sensed the quiet respect with which he addressed the older man.
‘As you say,’ he gave an acknowledging inclination of his head. ‘Something detrimental,’ he said heavily. ‘Not of particular relevance in normal circumstances,’ he added firmly. ‘But—’
‘These aren’t “normal circumstances”,’ Rome finished hardly. ‘Am I right in assuming you only have the one sister, Quinn?’ Blue eyes were narrowed shrewdly now.
Harrie looked at him thoughtfully, having a definite feeling that he already knew Quinn McBride had only the one sibling…
‘Yes,’ the other man confirmed abruptly. ‘The situation is—delicate, to say the least, and—’
‘I can understand your concern, Quinn,’ Rome cut in smoothly. ‘I just don’t know what you want me to do about it. Information, bringing the truth to the general public, is what newspapers are about—’
‘I’m not sure I altogether agree with you there,’ Quinn scorned derisively. ‘The truth, yes. Sensationalism, for the sake of it, no.’
‘“…Let them that be without sin themselves cast the first stone” syndrome, hmm?’ Rome accepted ruefully.
‘Something like that.’ Quinn’s mouth twisted with distaste. ‘I would lay odds on there being very few adults, over the age of say…twenty-five?—who don’t have something in their past they would rather weren’t made public knowledge!’
Rome nodded. ‘And if I were a betting man—which, incidentally, I’m not—I think I would agree with you. How about you, Harrie?’ He turned to her enquiringly. ‘You’re what…? Twenty-nine now? I’m sure there must have been something in your life already that you would rather were kept a secret?’
The conversation had been turned on her so suddenly Harrie didn’t even have time to cover up her reaction to the bluntness of the question, her cheeks colouring fiery red under Rome’s mocking gaze and Quinn McBride’s scornful one.
Nevertheless, she managed to return Rome’s challenging gaze. ‘I don’t believe we were talking about me,’ she dismissed coolly.
‘Perhaps not,’ he conceded in an amused voice before turning back to the other man. ‘To get back to the problem of your sister—’ he frowned ‘—I’m not sure I have the right, even when asked as a personal favour to you, Quinn, to actually bury a story that the public may—’
‘That’s just the point, this reporter isn’t—oh, damn!’ Quinn McBride stood up impatiently to pace the room. ‘You’re a father yourself, Rome, I believe?’ he prompted irritably.
‘Yes…’ Rome confirmed guardedly.
‘My sister Corinne and I were left parentless fifteen years ago, when our parents were killed in the crash of the light aircraft they were travelling in. I was twenty-four at the time, but Corinne was only fifteen.’ He made the statement in a flat emotionless voice, but it was obvious he’d only achieved this with the passage of time. ‘I, naturally, took over the care of my sister—’
‘And the Chair of the bank,’ Rome added quietly.
Once again Harrie gave him a narrow-eyed look. Just exactly what else did he know about Quinn McBride? The expression on Rome’s face was as inscrutable as usual. Meaning he’d no intention of answering that particular question for her, either now or in the future! It was the way he worked, the way he’d always worked—alone!—and he wasn’t about to change now.
‘And the bank, eventually,’ Quinn acknowledged dismissively. ‘But that came five years later; at twenty-four I wasn’t old enough or experienced enough to take on such a position. And that isn’t the point at issue here,’ he dismissed impatiently. ‘My sister is thirty now, but it’s those past tragic circumstances that make me protective of her still.’ He sighed. ‘I’m sure you know how it is, Rome, that you must feel the same way about your own children.’ He grimaced knowingly at the older man.
Rome gave an answering smile. ‘Three girls.’ He nodded. ‘They’ve given me my fair share of headaches over the years,’ he conceded lightly.
Harrie gave him a frowning look beneath lowered dark lashes; he made those ‘three daughters’ sound like hellions! Something she knew they most certainly were not!
‘But a lot of fun and happiness, too,’ Rome added affectionately.
‘Mmm,’ Quinn agreed distractedly, still moving restlessly about the room. ‘My sister married five years ago, but unfortunately her husband died of cancer two years later. Corinne was, naturally, devastated,’ he murmured heavily. ‘She was inconsolable for the first year after Paul died. And then, when she finally felt able to look at the world again, she—she made a mistake,’ he added firmly, looking challengingly across the room as he did so.
For her own part, he could have saved himself the trouble, Harrie puzzled thoughtfully; she was no nearer knowing what point he was trying to make than she had been when she’d arrived a few minutes ago for this meeting! Although she very much doubted that Rome, despite his encouragingly friendly expression, was as uninformed…
‘It happens to the best of us,’ Rome conceded gently.
Quinn McBride’s mouth set grimly. ‘Not to the woman who is about to marry the MP tipped to be a future prime minister of the country!’
Corinne Westley, Harrie suddenly realised dazedly; Quinn’s sister was Corinne Westley. Up till now she’d been going on the surname McBride, which had totally thrown her, but Corinne’s previous marriage now explained that mistake.
Corinne Westley… Tall, beautiful, blonde, elegant, engaged to marry the MP, David Hampton. The wedding was to take place later in the summer, and her photograph, usually at some charity occasion or a political function, appeared in the tabloids nowadays almost as much as the equally elegant and beautiful Princess Diana had once done.
And a reporter working on Rome’s newspaper had uncovered some sort of scandal involving the beautiful Corinne that could bring all of that particular castle tumbling to the ground…
No wonder Quinn McBride was worried! Although, in the circumstances, she didn’t know what he expected Rome to do about it.
‘Why don’t you sit down again, Quinn?’ Rome invited smoothly. ‘I’ll have some fresh tea sent in.’ He picked up the telephone and rang down in the kitchen. ‘And then you can explain all this to us quietly and calmly.’
Harrie could see by Quinn McBride’s momentarily irritated expression that he was about to argue the point, that he already considered he was discussing all of this ‘quietly and calmly’! And then he obviously thought better of it, sitting back in the chair he had so recently vacated, staring rigidly out of the window as Rome dealt with the ordering of the fresh pot of tea.
It gave