‘Drink?’ Adam had reached a black lacquered drinks cabinet of a type that looked as though you needed a degree in physics to open it.
‘Please.’
Neither of them had touched a drop of alcohol all evening and a drink sounded a mighty fine idea. Perhaps it would knock the lust demon out so she could concentrate on conversation. Perhaps she should just swig from the bottle.
‘Whisky OK?’
‘Perfect.’
Like the play of his large capable hands as they deftly unstoppered the decanter.
Olivia tore her gaze away and stared around the room; better to focus on her surroundings than on the hands that had so recently touched her bare skin with such devastating effect.
‘Wow!’ She’d been so mesmerised that she’d actually missed the stunning effect of the floor-to-ceiling window that spanned an entire wall. Walking over, she gazed out at the lit-up panorama of London. ‘The view is mind-blowing.’
‘It never gets old,’ he agreed as he moved next to her and handed her a thick cut-crystal tumbler containing a generous slosh of amber liquid.
‘Thank you.’ With an effort she kept her voice steady despite the brush of his fingers activating that all too familiar shockwave through her.
‘But I’m sure you don’t want to waste your half an hour on the view,’ he added. ‘So take a seat and say whatever you have to say.’
With one last glance at the purple-black night sky, looking for a handy shooting star, Olivia turned away from the window and headed for the sofa.
Adam followed suit, dropping onto a cream-coloured couch.
He sprawled opposite her, crystal tumbler held loosely in one large hand, mussed dark hair glinting with copper in the muted overhead lighting. Olivia gulped down a slug of whisky in the hope that the fiery trickle would deaden his infernal impact on her senses.
She reached out for her evening bag, opened it and pulled out an envelope. Leaning forward, careful not to touch him, she handed it over and watched as he lifted the flap and pulled the photograph out.
‘That’s your father, isn’t it?’ Olivia said eventually. Not that she needed to ask: from the moment she’d seen Adam Masterson’s image on the Masterson Hotels website she’d known. The likeness between the two men was too obvious for them not to be related. Enough that she hadn’t even bothered researching him further. ‘The woman in the picture is my mum. Jodie Evans.’
‘That’s Zeb,’ he acknowledged. ‘But this hardly proves he is the father of Jodie’s baby.’
‘It puts them both together at the right date, and, well, they look...’ Olivia moistened her lips. ‘Pretty relaxed together.’
And that was as far as she was prepared to go. She already had way too much knowledge of her mother’s sex life—had spent too many nights of her childhood with her pillow over her head.
Adam didn’t look as though contemplating the finer details of Jodie and Zeb’s relationship was causing him any joy, either. His features scrunched into a scowl as his fingers drummed a tattoo on the leather arm of the sofa.
He nodded at the photo. ‘When was this taken?’ he asked.
‘Four months ago. In Hawaii. Mum went there for a couple of weeks with friends.’
‘Where she just happened to hook up with the father of a billionaire?’ Disbelief dripped from his tone. ‘Or did she target him in the hope of a pay-off?’
‘What are you? A fully paid-up member of Cynics R Us? Mum didn’t do anything of the sort. She doesn’t need money.’ Pride and determination pulled her spine straight. Neither Jodie nor Olivia Evans would ever rely on a man again, because now Olivia earned enough for both of them. Exactly as she had always vowed she would
‘Everyone needs money, honey.’
‘Not us. And you’d better believe it!’ Hauling in a breath, she tried to see it from Adam’s viewpoint. ‘I get that you are sceptical, but this would be so much easier if you could just acknowledge I might be telling the truth.’
He raked a hand through his already rumpled hair and exhaled heavily into the cloud of silence. ‘OK,’ he said finally. ‘I’ll meet with your mother, see if her story checks out.’
‘No!’ The yelp escaped her lips too sharply and her panicked vehemence caused a hike of Adam’s dark brows. ‘You can’t do that.’
‘Because?’
Olivia clenched her hands into fists, thoroughly annoyed with herself for not anticipating his request. ‘Because Mum doesn’t know I’m here.’ Her conscience stabbed her with pins galore and had her squirming on the plush seat. ‘If you must know she doesn’t want Zeb to know about the baby.’