Page 1 of Masquerade

CHAPTER ONE

Kate Turner plastereda confident smile on her face as George Clelland, founding partner of Clelland and Associates, led her towards his boardroom to meet his “four best people”. Suits—any gender—were her least favourite people. She told herself that was a prejudice she should be over by now. But she’d met too many who were wedded to the idea that charcoal-grey wool cut in severe lines guaranteed they were always right. Her misgivings were her business, and George’s steady patter of encouragement was a palliative to the tension roiling in her gut.

Halting inside the doorway, Kate scanned the room. The three suits present weighed her up and found her wanting. Her bland, off-the-rack clothes were a jarring contrast to their designer suits. To the lawyers, her drab outfit signalled she had no permanent place in their company; to her, being instantly forgettable represented success. Ms. Dowdy Researcher could hide in plain sight.

“Glad you could make it, Liam.” George turned back towards the door, his body blocking her view of the fourth suit. “Problems with the flight from Canberra?”

“A bit of traffic from the airport.”

An alarm sounded in Kate’s head. The Irish lilt was fainter, but the mellow baritone was ominously familiar. The newcomer moved to join the other three strangers. When her gaze met his, her stomach knotted while his polite smile faded.

George began introductions. Kate shook hands, as if she’d been programmed to meet and greet on command while her heart raced like a runaway bride, and her brain scrambled for purchase.

Please, God, no!

“Kate Turner meet Liam Quinn.” George made the final introduction. The man’s name provided the absolute confirmation Kate didn’t need. Inhaling deeply, she met his gaze.

“Hello, Ms. Turner.” He held her hand longer than necessary, the living embodiment of all her least favourite stereotypes. An austere, charcoal-suited, silk-tied, face-chiselled-from-marble legal eagle who regarded her with the irritation of someone who’d found a worm in his perfect apple. The man packed speculation and suspicion into a simple handshake. “Do I know you?”

Have you ID’d me? Memo to self: you will not—repeat not—hyperventilate. Kate concentrated on simple inhalation and exhalation.In two-three; out two-three. Nice and steady. “I don’t think so.”

“You look familiar.”

“I have that kind of face.” She’d let her guard down, allowed herself to believe the gods were finally on her side—that she could work, write and live again free of shadows.

“I don’t think so.” He was persistent. “Maybe I’ve seen a photo?

“Unlikely.”In two-three; out two-three-four-five. There was a Genosearch billboard on the route from the airport to Sydney’s central business district. The public story was that Kate’s identical twin, Anna, was the model featured in glorious colour on the billboard. Instead, Kate was the real billboard model, having abandoned her Ms. Dowdy Researcher disguise for the length of the photo shoot. “Call me Kate.”

Had Liam seen through the costume granting her anonymity from every other observer?

The possibility was a body blow. No one had made the link between Ms. Dowdy Researcher Kate and the woman on the billboard. She’d gambled that no one ever would.

She lifted a hand to make sure her fake glasses sat firmly on her nose. With her lack of makeup, very different hair colour, clothes and body language, it shouldn’t be possible for anyone to pick her likeness to the woman on the billboard.

Even after Liam Quinn released her hand, he studied her with a fierce intensity Kate struggled to ignore. The advertising company was doing a slow reveal. Kate’s face had been in jigsaw pieces but was now complete. Ultimately, two faces would appear on the billboard. In the last twenty-four hours, they’d added the outline of a male head and a pair of penetrating grey eyes.

Had Liam recognised his identical twin, Niall, in the eyes of the male model on the billboard?

Easily—probably—definitely—damn.

“Let’s start.” George offered her the seat at his side.

Kate sank into it, drawing strength from George’s support. Her relief was short-lived when Liam took the chair opposite, exposing her to his focused power. Pure potent male.

What had Niall said about him?

“We’ve grown apart in recent years.”

Both were tall, broad-shouldered, with lean hips, long legs and eyes that missed not a blessed thing. The resemblance ended there. His warm-hearted, cabinetmaker brother hadn’t made her skin prickle with awareness.

Kate twisted her fingers together under the polished teak table, away from his relentless scrutiny.

I am not nervous.

If he asked her outright, she’d tell a room full of strangers the public version of the story—that Anna was the creative genius behind a billboard campaign that also featured Liam Quinn’s twin brother. Her stomach—her body’s anxiety barometer—threatened to rebel.

“Has everyone had a chance to read Kate’s report?” George, her temporary employer, was an exception to Kate’s suit rule. She could ignore his Tom Ford three-piece because he had the charm of a man with nothing to prove. Short and stocky, he packed more charisma into a raised eyebrow than the lead in the romance novel on her bedside table. He’d spent his professional life building his successful, Sydney-based legal practice into an Australian institution.

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