Sweet Lies. Catherine O'Connor

dinner with me tonight?’ he asked gruffly, his tone full of tension, a pulse throbbing in the strong line of his jaw. ‘Here in the hotel,’ he added quickly, seeing the refusal already present in her eyes.

      ‘No,’ she objected, too quickly, betraying her fear, her eyes straying to the door as she thought of Luke. He seized on her fear with characteristic aggression, a smile of victory already curling his sensuous mouth, revealing a set of perfect white teeth.

      ‘For old times’ sake,’ he crooned, his voice dangerously soft and a hidden invitation swirling in the slumberous depths of his hypnotic eyes. Megan nearly weakened, drowning all her doubts in the familiar glow of his heated gaze, her own eyes softening in response. ‘It’s the least you owe me.’

      Steel had entered his voice, a harshness she had not expected, and her eyes leapt to his face, troubled by his words. But the freezing look of contempt that glistened in the icy depths of his eyes prevented her from speaking. She frantically searched his face, looking for a glimpse of the man she had once known.

      ‘Well, Meggie?’ he taunted, using her familiar pet name to weaken her still further. He had sensed her distrust and was playing on it, his eyes shining now with teasing laughter, and in that brief moment she caught a sudden flash of the man she had once known and loved. He reached out, placing his hand on her shoulder, and Megan’s stomach twirled with an instinctive excitement at the impact his unexpected touch had on her. And in that transient moment she might have weakened, but the door suddenly swung open.

      An icy draught of cold air blasted towards them, chilling the warmth that had begun to grow between them. They both turned simultaneously to see a tousled-haired youngster with a harsh look of resentment on his face. He fixed his cold eyes on the pair of them, his disapproval at their close proximity apparent in his narrowing eyes and mounting frown.

      For a moment he said nothing. His stare flicked quickly to Darrow, making a swift but comprehensive inventory of him, before he turned his attention back on to Megan. A look of scorn flickered across his face and he raised his eyebrows in mockery.

      ‘You’ve been ages,’ he said sullenly, directing his accusation at Megan and deliberately cutting out Darrow’s presence.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ Megan stated briefly, annoyed by his obvious rudeness. ‘I thought you were asleep,’ she concluded, casting an anxious covert glance at Darrow to see his reaction to her child. His eyes shone with curiosity, a quizzical expression on his face as he studied him with deep interest.

      ‘I woke up.’ It was a bald statement accompanied by another look of resentment, the dark brows drawing together over the glitter of frustration in his eyes.

      ‘Obviously,’ agreed Megan, calmly looking at her son who over the past few months had seemed to be slowly changing into a total stranger. His glandular fever hadn’t helped; it had left him a little weak, and Megan knew she was being over-protective but she couldn’t help herself, despite the resentment it caused in Luke. She was so frightened of the thought of losing him, just as she had lost his father, that she was totally confused as to how she should behave.

      They had always been so close, him so caring and gentle, but now he was sometimes rude and often distant. A typical teenager, Megan tried to reassure herself, but his behaviour still hurt more deeply than she cared to admit. This chance of a holiday was just what they both needed to re-establish their bond. They faced each other now, an improbable discomfort widening the chasm that was beginning to develop between them. The deadly lull only added to the already tense atmosphere as the three of them stayed locked each in their own inner turmoil.

      Megan was aware of the stiffening of Darrow beside her as he purposefully fixed his whole attention on Luke. Luke held his gaze with equal hostility and Darrow’s lips twisted as Luke continued to stare at him stubbornly with cold contempt. Megan found herself struggling to subdue a hysterical bubble of laughter that was growing with every passing moment. It was ironic for father and son to stand so close, watching each other with such deep interest, and be unaware of their relationship.

      ‘Are you coming now?’ demanded Luke, already turning to leave. Megan moved forward, following him anxiously. She desperately wanted to keep them well away from each other but Darrow’s arm shot out, gripping her tightly around the upper arm. His iron hold warned her that his formidable temper was about to erupt. Meggie’s head swirled around, her heart already thudding out a death-knell as she confronted the black darkness that filled his eyes. Had he realised the truth? she thought suddenly, feeling sick.

      ‘Who’s he?’ he bit out, the words sounding like a hiss as they escaped through his clenched teeth.

      The furious tone of his voice seared through her body till every nerve tingled with foreboding, her mouth suddenly went dry and she flicked her tongue nervously over her lips. Her mind went blank. She stood rooted to the spot, her face draining of all colour as she faced the dark fury that was building with every passing moment. She could hear the frantic hammering of her heart against her tightening ribcage.

      ‘He’s my son,’ she managed at last, though her voice was a thin whisper of despair. His grip tightened at her words but he remained absolutely silent, his body rigid with tension. Megan knew he was fighting some inner doubt and she waited, mentally praying for her escape.

      ‘I didn’t know you had a child.’ His voice was a harsh whisper, as if some sharp pain was trapped in his throat. Megan looked at him anxiously, her whole body trembling as she watched his gaze switch swiftly back to Luke, staring at him with an intensity that unnerved her. She silently prayed over and over again that soon she would be free. The last thing she wanted was for Luke to find out the truth. Their relationship was already on thin ice at the moment. She had only recently heard the painful longing in his voice when he spoke of the father he had never known.

      ‘And the father?’ he drawled, his eyes darting back to hers and fixing on her with an icy intent. Megan felt a flush of colour to her face as she struggled to keep her emotions under control. She normally deftly avoided any questions, but she knew Darrow would not be so easily swayed.

      ‘Karl Meyer, my husband,’ she retorted, her voice growing stronger as she trotted out the well-worn lie. A lie she had been forced to invent to protect herself and her son against the pain of his rejection. Darrow’s eyebrow’s lifted slightly, his mouth thinning to an angry line.

      ‘And where’s Karl now?’ he demanded, the self-assurance in his voice irritating her more than she was willing to admit, even to herself.

      ‘My husband died several years ago,’ Megan replied frostily, hating the intrusion into her private life. He had given up his rights to that with his betrayal.

      ‘And he is your only child?’ he asked, a tightness in his voice as he looked deep into her eyes, and Megan quickly lowered her long lashes over her eyes to prevent him from seeing the truth that she knew she would be unable to hide from him.

      ‘Yes.’ Megan forced a smile, though her insides were churning with despair. Was he jealous or merely curious? she wondered, a sudden ache piercing her heart.

      ‘He doesn’t look like you…’

      ‘No,’ snapped Megan quickly. ‘He takes after his father.’ Her eyes couldn’t quite meet his as she replied.

      ‘Are you coming?’ Luke’s voice was sharp as he turned back, glaring at them both with obvious disapproval. Megan gave an apologetic smile to Darrow, but he seemed unperturbed by Luke’s rude outburst and strolled over to meet him. Luke watched his approach with caution, his face sulky, the silence only adding to the tense atmosphere. Darrow broke the silence with his customary ease, as if oblivious to the tension between the mother and her child.

      ‘My name is Darrow,’ he offered, his voice firm, full of authority. He stretched out his hand, his gesture more one of challenge than friendship, and Megan mentally prayed that Luke would respond. For a moment she thought her prayers had been wasted and her heart shrank within her as a sudden shaft of piercing pain seared through her. For a brief moment she thought her heart would break in two; just seeing them together