AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER FIVE
APRIL OPENED HER eyes and puffed out a sigh. She might as well face it—sleep had left the hotel room and it wasn’t coming back. Unless her fitful, restless swivel round the sheets counted.
Every time she closed her eyes Marcus Alrikson—drat the man—insisted on an invasion of her dreams. As she lay there, gazing wide-eyed at the ceiling, irritation and a dollop of sheer guilt swathed her already heated skin and she pushed the duvet off with more force than necessary.
This was unacceptable. This unwanted attraction had caused her to lose the thing she valued most—her objectivity. She couldn’t see her way forward—couldn’t work out what to do about the story she almost wished she’d never discovered. Part of her wanted to drop it. Problem was, she couldn’t be sure of her motivation. Had she allowed her attraction for him to cloud her judgement and make her want to do what he said?
Her entire being revolted against the very concept that she would be foolish enough to do that again. Attraction had rendered her unable to see Dean as he truly was—had propelled her into a foolish, disastrous and tragic marriage.
April wanted to pull the duvet over her head and go into hibernation mode... No way. That way lay the path back to depression. Right now she needed to kill this attraction off, shut her hormones down and focus on a return to her safe, even-keeled life—the one she had worked so hard to construct, brick by painstaking brick.
The buzz of her phone provided a welcome relief from her thoughts.
‘Hey, Kathy.’ Her editor, who could perhaps help with this dilemma. Except she wasn’t sure she wanted the decision taken out of her hands...
‘April. Glad I caught you. I’ve just spoken with Marcus Alrikson and it sounds like you’ve ruffled some feathers.’
For a moment words deserted her as the sheer gall of the man blasted her. But it wasn’t only anger—there was a sense of betrayal as well. He’d gone over her head to her editor.
‘I really don’t know what you were thinking, April. We were very lucky to get this exclusive coverage of the Lycander Royal wedding, and we agreed to write a feel-good article on the lifestyle of the royal couple—not to dig up a political scandal. You have single-handedly nearly screwed that up.’
The tone of the other woman’s voice twanged a nerve—a reminder of the numerous occasions on which Dean and his family had explained to April why she didn’t measure up. As a wife, a mother, a person... The memory kept her vocal cords in stranglehold, conveying an almost hypnotic belief that, yes, she was wrong, stupid...
April dug her nails into the palm of her hand to wake herself up. Tragedy had reformed her and she was no longer that woman. ‘Kathy,’ she broke in, ‘this is not just a scandal. It’s a political story that could have huge ramifications if it’s true.’
‘Perhaps, but it is not the sort of story our readers would be interested in. Marcus Alrikson has made it plain that if we don’t back off they back out—and the wedding coverage will go to What’s Up? instead. I will not lose this to our biggest competitor. So drop the story.’
‘But—’ April began, feeling conflicting emotions tear at her. Relief that the decision had been taken out of her hands versus her principles, which told her that the decision was hers to make, and had to be made on different grounds than readership numbers.
‘No buts. Drop the story. I had an agreement with Marcus Alrikson—I intend to keep it.’
Five minutes later April flung her phone onto the bed. In record time she shed her tartan PJs, tugged on jeans and a dark blue T-shirt, grabbed her bag and blazer and left her hotel room. How dared he? Of all the arrogant, idiotic—
Her mental invective halted as she strode through the lobby, out through the revolving doors and glared around for a taxi.
Once at Marcus’s offices she didn’t even pause—she stormed inside with no more than a perfunctory glance at the historic grandeur of the building. Right now she didn’t care if he was in Fort bloody Knox—she’d find him. And if he wasn’t in she’d wait for as long as it took.
Attempting to summon a polite smile, she approached the semi-circular reception desk. ‘Is Marcus Alrikson available?’
‘Ah, you must be April. I’m Karen. Marcus asked me to take you straight up when you arrived.’
‘He did?’ A tiny puff of wind left her sails of fury, but April soon remedied that as adrenalin pulsed through her. If he was willing to fight, then bring it on. ‘Excellent.’
She followed the petite blonde receptionist down a maze of corridors and up a flight of oak-banister stairs—the building appeared to have been haphazardly converted from royal residence to office complex.
‘Is Marcus expecting me at a certain time?’
The woman nodded. ‘He said somewhere between nine-thirty and ten-thirty.’
So she was that predictable, was she?
April caught a glimpse of her reflection in a gilded mirror. Her eyes had squinted to slits and her expression defined the word glower, so she couldn’t blame Karen for her apprehensive glance.
Finally they reached a door where a discreet plaque showed they’d reached their destination. A perfunctory knock, then Karen announced April’s name in a relieved murmur and scurried back down the corridor.
Marcus rose from behind a teak desk that screeched antiquity. ‘April. I’m guessing you’ve spoken with Kathy.’
‘Yes, I have, and I am here to tell you that you are despicable. You went over my head and behind my back to my editor. I could have been sacked.’
