Unfaithful (54 page)

“But Ethan is his son too and if he wants to see him then he does have legal rights,” Shona continued. Sometimes when she started talking she didn't know when to shut up and the bigger the hole she dug for herself the more she kept on talking!

Penelope stared at her, willing her to shut up. She could see Rebecca was already stressed out enough and didn't need Shona standing up for Mark's rights at that particular moment.

“How is Ethan?” Penelope asked, attempting to change the subject.

“He's great,” Rebecca's face softened when she spoke of her son. “Today's his first day at school, so I suppose that's why I'm stressing too. My baby boy is growing up too fast.”

Shona smiled sympathetically. “Did you take any photos?”

“Yes, actually, I did.” She rummaged around in her cavernous handbag and pulled out her digital camera, scrolling through the images until she found the snaps of her baby boy.

“He's gorgeous. Look at him in his uniform. He's getting so big,” Shona cooed.

“I know, he's the spitting image of Chris when he was that age.”

“They're very like their dad,” Shona said. The words were out of her mouth before she realised what she'd said. “Sorry.” She handed the camera back to Rebecca apologetically.

“Don't apologise. They are very like Mark.”

“Speaking of cameras and photographs,” Penelope interrupted. There wasn't a maternal bone in her body and she wasn't remotely interested in looking at Rebecca's snaps, only doing so out of politeness to her friend. “Has anyone heard from the recruitment agency yet? Weren't they supposed to be sending us some candidates to interview this morning?”

“I'd completely forgotten about that,” Shona groaned and turned back to her computer, scanning her online diary. “Yeah, Ryan Butler should have been here at ten o'clock and Adrian
Rowan has an appointment after lunch.”

“No sign of Ryan,” Penelope sighed. “I’ll write him off as another no-show. Wonderful! We're not much of a photography business without a photographer now are we?”

“I'll call the agency,” Shona picked up her phone and dialled the number to Mannion Recruitment.

Chapter 5

“Good afternoon, I have an appointment with Ms. McNamara at two o' clock,” a posh London accent interrupted Shona's concentration. She glanced up absent-mindedly from her computer and found herself looking into the handsome face of Adrian Rowan.

He was just over six feet tall, immaculately dressed in a dark suit, white shirt and silver tie. His blonde hair was perfectly cut and his dark chocolate brown eyes were a startling contrast against his fair complexion. He smiled at her which emphasised his deep dimples. He looked like a Greek god. Shona caught herself smiling dreamily back at him for a second, before suddenly realising where she was.

She gulped.  An instant blush spread over her cheeks, her usual reaction when caught off guard by a sexy man. She cursed her fair Irish skin for betraying her feelings. She would have thought that at the ripe old age of thirty-one she'd have gotten a handle on her blushes. “Hi,” she croaked, before coughing loudly and very unattractively. “Would you like some water?” Adrian asked, full of concern.

“No thanks, I'm fine, I've got some here.” She slurped some cold tea from her cup and tried to gather herself together. It was time to take control of the situation. “How can I help you?” she asked in her most business-like voice.

“I have an appointment with Ms. McNamara at two o' clock,” he repeated, looking at her as if she'd taken leave of her senses.

“Oh,
yes, yes, sorry, so you said.” She checked her diary and put a dramatic tick by his name.

She stood up and reached out to shake his hand. His brown eyes danced as he placed his hand in hers. He was used to having a disconcerting effect on women. His hand was strong and firm and a little tingle ran up her spine at his touch.

“Please have a seat. Rebecca, I mean, Ms. McNamara, will be with you shortly. Would you like some tea or coffee while you're waiting?”

“Tea would be lovely, please.” He smiled warmly at her and her heart skipped a beat. There were those dimples again.

“May I take your coat?” she asked.

“Yes, that would be great, thank you. It's rathe
r cold out there but toasty warm in here.” He shrugged out of his coat, revealing his strong, muscular frame. She almost swooned. He smelled divine; a sexy mix of citrus cologne and his own intoxicating scent. It had been a long time since she'd been that close to such a desirable man and it was all she could do to restrain herself from reaching out and stroking him.

“I'll be right back,” she smiled, hurrying to the little kitchen area and closing the door gently behind her. She leaned against the door for a moment, trying to gather her wits. Her heart was doing somersaults and she had butterflies in her stomach! Deep breaths, she told herself. Get a grip on yourself woman. Where the hell was Penelope when she needed her? Out on yet another late lunch, no doubt. She scurried about the kitchen, pouring water in the kettle and washing cups in the sink.

“Damn!” she muttered under her breath. She'd completely forgotten if he'd wanted tea or coffee. Should she ask him again? No, he'd probably think she'd taken complete leave of her senses. It was better to guess and hope for the best.

She placed the cups on a tray with a plate of chocolate biscuits and tottered back out to the main office area. Walking in dangerously high stiletto heels while balancing a tray in her nervously shaking hands was quite a precarious endeavour, but she managed to make it to her desk without spilling or dropping anything.

“One coffee coming up,” she smiled her brightest smile and handed him a cup.

“Um, thank you, but I asked for tea,” he grinned mischievously at her.

“I'm so sorry,” she wished the ground would open up and swallow her. He must think she was a total dimwit. “I'll make some tea if you'd prefer, it's no problem whatsoever. I don't know where my head is at. I must be overworked.” She laughed loudly at her own joke, willing herself to stop rattling on. Whenever she was nervous or embarrassed she couldn't stop talking. Oh well, at least it was better than blushing bright red again.

“No, coffee is fine,” he said, taking a sip.

“I didn't even ask if you wanted milk or sugar.” She looked stricken at the thought. “I made it exactly like mine.”

“It's perfect just the way it is,” he smiled charmingly at her and she wanted to swoon right there and then.

“Good. Rebecca should be back from lunch any minute.” She turned and tottered back to her desk and grinned when she could feel his gaze burning through her. Still got it, she thought, taking her seat in front of her computer. She buried her head studiously in her work and willed Penelope or Rebecca to return soon.

The phone
rang, making her jump. “I'm sorry. I'm running late,” Rebecca apologised. “The queue at the sandwich bar was horrendous, I was waiting almost half an hour to be served and now I'm stuck in traffic. I'll never make it back in time for the interview. Is he there already?”

“Yes,” Shona replied, glancing at her watch. It was already twenty past two.

“Would you mind dreadfully interviewing him?”

Shona paused for a moment. “Okay, don't worry. I'll take care of it, no problem.”

“Thanks Shona, you're a lifesaver,” and with that she hung up the phone.

“It looks like Ms. McNamara has been delayed so I'll be interviewing you today. Follow me,” she led the way to the large meeting room with Adrian following close behind her.

“Sorry about the temperature in here. It's a little nippy. I forgot to turn on the heat this morning,” Shona apologised for what felt like the umpteenth time. Why do I always lose my sense around handsome men?

“I'm hot enough already,” he
replied, without even a hint of irony in his tone.

You can say that again, she
thought, careful not to make eye contact with him. She arranged her folders and notepad on the table and gestured for him to take a seat, glad for the coolness in the room; it helped to reduce her temperature by a degree or two!

“L
et's begin,” she said eventually in her most business-like voice, finally dragging her eyes away from the safety of the paperwork. He was watching her intently but his eyes were dancing in amusement. “You're actually the first person I've ever interviewed,” she laughed nervously. He really had the most penetrating gaze. It unnerved her a little.

“It's my first time too,” he grinned.

She willed herself not to blush. He was teasing her. “Really?” was the most intelligent response she could manage.

“Yes, what I mean is that you're the first person to interview me in Ireland. I've been based in London for years but I was sick of the rat race and decided it was about time I came home to Dublin.”

“Oh, I see,” she replied, self-consciously running her fingers through her hair. “I've got a list of questions here which Rebecca usually uses as a guide when she's interviewing.” She sat up straighter in her chair in an effort to seem more in control and professional. She was in charge here.

Adrian gazed expectantly at her.

“Tell me about your work experience to date,” she began.

“I've always been passionate about photography, ever since my father gave me my first camera for my tenth birthday.”

She smiled indulgently. I bet you were the cutest little boy, she thought distractedly. I wonder what our babies would look like.

“I'm good with people and I have a talent for capturing them. I know everything there is to know about photography and I have an instinct for the perfect shot.”

She flicked through his extensive portfolio as he spoke. Every photograph was breathtaking. There was something striking about the way he captured the emotion on camera or the way a ray of sun transformed an otherwise plain photo. “Passion is my bottom line. I believe if you are passionate about what you do then it shines through in your work and that's half the battle. I work hard. I know every detail about the industry and I've spent thousands of pounds on the most expensive equipment, but the results are rewarding. A bride’s smile, the expression on a first-time father's face, those are the moments that make me love my work.”

“Why don't you set up on your own? Why the interest in coming to work for M&R Photography?” she asked curiously.

“Actually, I owned a successful photography business in London but, as I'm sure you realise, I need to build up a reputation for myself in Dublin and establish a client list. I've done a little research and I've heard that M&R is one of the most established and successful photographers in Dublin. I heard about your contract with the Renaissance Hotel Group. That was quite a coup. Mr. Middleton-Sinclair is known to be very selective.”

She was amazed that he had taken the time to find out so much about their business. None of the other candidates had shown any such interest. There was something slightly unnerving about him. She couldn't quite put her finger on it but he made her feel a little uneasy. He was only a few years older than her, maybe in his mid-thirties at most, and al
ready he had achieved so much, but there was something intimidating about him. It seemed there could be a lot more to him than met the eye.

“How will you feel about working for someone else and not being the boss?” she asked, trying to throw him off guard.

“I'm sure it will be fine. I'm used to working with people as part of a team and I'm not a control freak, though some people may argue that point.” He grinned mischievously at her.

“Team work is important at
M&R Photography. Well, I think that’s about it, do you have any questions for me?”

“When would I start, if I'm successful?” he asked, with a pause.

“You’d start immediately, if that suits you. We’ve been working with freelancers for the last while so the position in available. I need to have a chat with my colleagues, so I’ll be in touch shortly.”

“Great, I look forward to hearing from you. Thank you for your time.”

“My pleasure,” she held out her hand. His handshake was firm yet warm. She had to restrain a sigh at his touch.

“Let me get your coat,” she said, leading the way back to the main office. He gathered his briefcase and belongings together, wrapping his fine cashmere scarf around his neck.

“I’ll see you soon,” he turned to smile at her before closing the door behind him.

“Wow,” Shona let out a long sigh and tried to relax. She hadn’t realised she’d been holding her breath for most of the interview.

Chapter 6

“That went well,” Adrian barged into Maggie's office, loosened his tie and flung himself into a battered leather chair. “Although I don't know how long I can maintain my London accent.”

“It's nice to see you too,” Maggie smiled at him. “Why are you pretending to be English?”

“I'm not sure actually. I think I got into character too much. I didn't mean it to happen but as soon as I started speaking an English accent came out. I was more surprised than anyone else.”