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كاتب الموضوع : نيارااا المنتدى : الارشيف
افتراضي CHAPTER SIX
 

CHAPTER SIX


'Marcus, are you sure we're doing the right thing?'

They had just returned from visiting her parents, who were overjoyed
about the fact that they were to marry, and yet despite the delight with
which everyone had greeted the news of their engagement, since they had
returned to London Lucy had begun to be gripped by an increasingly
intense feeling of sadness and foreboding.

Her vision was clouded with emotional tears as the October sunshine
shone in through the windows of the pretty breakfast room overlooking
Marcus's garden and bounced off the facets of her engagement ring. She
had fallen in love with the simple rectangular diamond with its emerald
cut facets the moment she had seen it, and when Marcus had picked it up
and said quietly, 'I rather like this one, but of course it must be your
choice,' she had been so thrilled she had almost cried with happiness.
She had been happy-then!

In Majorca, swept away on a tide of sex and fantasy, she had felt as
though anything was possible-even Marcus coming to love her-but now,
back in London, certain realities were refusing to go away.

'What exactly do you mean?' Marcus demanded. He was frowning at her with
that familiar blend of impatience and irritation that always cramped her
stomach and squeezed her heart with pain. 'I should have thought from
the response we've had from our families to the news of our impending
marriage that it is obvious that we are very much doing the right
thing.' He stood up and strode to the window, and Lucy gripped her mug
of coffee with tense fingers. It was clear that he didn't want to
continue the discussion, but she needed to. She needed... She needed his
love, she admitted helplessly. And in the absence of that she needed
some kind of acknowledgement of her own fears, and his reassurance that
there was nothing for her to fear. She needed hope, and the belief that
he could grow to love her. But she couldn't tell him any of those
things, she admitted painfully, because she knew that he wouldn't
understand her needs and that he would be irritated by

them.

'Our families assume that...that we care about one another,' she told
him carefully instead. 'They don't know the truth. And I don't know if
a...a relationship-a marriage-without love can survive.'

'Love?' Marcus shook his head, his expression darkening. 'Why is
everyone so obsessed by this delusion that what they call love is
something of any value? It isn't,' he told her harshly. 'You should know
that. After all, you married Blayne because you loved him, and look
where that got you.

'You and I have the kind of practical reasons for marrying one another
that are far more important than love. I need and want a wife who
understands my way of life and who shares my desire for children-I
certainly do not want to be the first Carring not to produce an heir or
heiress. Sexually, as we have both already shown, we are compatible. You
want children, and you are not the kind of woman who would want them
outside a committed relationship. You married once for so-called love,
Lucy. I should have thought you were intelligent enough to recognise
that that was a mistake, and not want to repeat it.'

'But what if one day you fall in love with someone else, Marcus?'

102

'Fall in love?' He looked at her as though she had suggested he murder
his own mother. 'Haven't you listened to anything I've been saying? So
far as I am concerned sexual love is merely a cloak to cover juvenile
and selfish-self-obsessed!-emotional folly, allied to lust. My father
fell in love, or so he claimed, when he left my mother. He abandoned her
and us because of that love, and if it hadn't been for the accident that
killed him he would have destroyed the bank as well as my mother's
happiness. I saw then what love was, and I swore that I would never ever
allow myself to indulge in such a thing.'

But you were six years old! Lucy wanted to protest. But wisely she
refrained from doing so. She had had no idea that Marcus held such
strong and bitter views about love, or that he was so antagonistic
toward it.

Her coffee had gone cold, but she still kept her hands wrapped around
her mug, as though she was trying to seek warmth and comfort from it.

'What is it?' he demanded when he looked at her and saw the despair in
her eyes.

She shook her head. 'I...I'm not sure we should get married, Marcus.'

'It's too late for second thoughts now,' he told her sharply. 'For one
thing your mother is busily planning the wedding, and for another...' He
paused and then reminded her, 'Let's not forget that you could already
be carrying my child. We are getting married, Lucy,' he reinforced
calmly. 'And nothing is going to change that.'

Just as nothing was going to change the way he felt about love, or his
antagonism towards it, Lucy recognised with despair. How could she have
deceived herself into believing that he would grow to love her? Marcus
would never love her. Marcus didn't want to love her. He didn't want to
love anyone.

'I want to talk to you about Pret a Party,' he continued briskly.

Lucy tensed. She didn't want to talk to Marcus about her business. She
had had a letter from Andrew Walker, reiterating that he didn't want her
to discuss their meeting with anyone and explaining that he was still
out of the country on business and would be in touch with her on his
return. Of course there should be no secrets between husband and wife,
but she had given her word and she had no intention of breaking it-and
besides...Nick's betrayal of her trust had left a painful scar. She knew
that Marcus would never cheat her financially, but her growing
insecurity about the future of their marriage made her want to hold on
tightly to the security of Pret a Party. If at some future date Marcus
chose to decide that their marriage wasn't working with the clockwork
efficiency that he had decided that it should, she might need her
business-not just to support herself financially, but to validate her as
a person.

'I've decided that the simplest way to deal with the current situation
would be for me to inject enough capital into the business to clear its
debts,' he said.

'No! No-I don't want you to do that.'

Lucy could see that her outburst had surprised him.

'Why not? Less than two months ago you begged me to let you utilise what
was left of your trust fund to put into the company.'

'That was different,' she told him stubbornly. 'That was my money, not
yours. And besides...' She bit her lip. She couldn't tell him about
Andrew Walker-not yet-and even if she did she suspected that he would
not understand why she felt able to accept both financial assistance and
financial involvement from someone else, but not from him. Having one
husband involved in her business and virtually destroying it, and her,
had taught her a harsh lesson. It wasn't one she wanted to repeat.

104

Marcus frowned as he looked at her. It was obvious to him that Lucy was
having second thoughts about their marriage. Was it because, despite all
that he had done to her, she still loved Nick Blayne? And why was she
rejecting his offer to pay off Pret a Party's debts?

'Lucy...'

She stopped him fiercely. 'Pret a Party is my responsibility, Marcus,
and I want to keep it that way.'

Her responsibility and her salvation, perhaps, should he ever decide to
end their marriage.

A feeling of intense inner aloneness filled her. Sometimes it seemed as
though her whole emotional life involved keeping painful secrets she
could not share with anyone else. She badly wanted to cry, but of course
she must not do so. Her two best friends had been so lucky, finding men
who were their soul mates and true partners- men with whom they could
share every part of their lives and themselves, from their most mundane
thoughts to those that were most sacred and private to them. But not
her. She never had and now would never be able to share her innermost
longings and feelings with anyone.

She gave a small shiver. Marriage to Marcus would mean closing the door
on the deepest of her feelings and shutting them away for ever. But she
knew she simply wasn't strong enough to let him walk away from her and
find someone else. The pain would simply be too much for her to bear.
And, as Marcus himself kept reminding her, it could already be too late
for her to back out of their coming marriage. She might already have
conceived.

Lucy looked at her watch. Marcus would be in Edinburgh by now. He had
said that he would only be away for a couple of days, but already she
was missing him.

Tonight was the launch of the new football boot-the last of Pret a
Party's major events. She was pleased with the response she had received
to the invitations she had sent out, and even Dorland was going to be
there. Although corporate events, no matter how lavish, were not really
his style.

Her mobile rang, jerking her out of her thoughts, and her heart leapt
when she saw that it was Marcus who was calling.

Although she wasn't officially living with him yet, she was spending
more nights in Marcus's bed than she was her own.

'Has your mother sent out the wedding invitations yet?' he asked.

'They went out yesterday,' Lucy told him. Her mother had spent several
afternoons cloistered in the Holy Grail of stationery requisites that
was the basement of Smythson's Sloane Street premises, poring over
samples of wedding stationery. 'Although she's telephoned people as
well, in view of the lack of time. You do realise just how many guests
are going to be at our wedding, don't you, Marcus?' she cautioned him.

'Two hundred and rising at the last count-and that isn't including my
second cousins four times removed from Nova Scotia-at least according to
my mother and Beatrice,' he relied promptly.

'What? No, Marcus.' Lucy panicked. 'It's more like-'

'Two hundred each. That is to say, my mother is planning on inviting two
hundred guests, whilst I understand your mother can't get her list down
under two hundred and fifty.'

'Oh, Marcus,' Lucy wailed. 'We said we wanted a quiet wedding.'

106

'Talk to your mother-apparently that is a quiet wedding,' Marcus told
her dryly.

Lucy sighed. 'Thank goodness it isn't summer. Ma said the other night
that if it had been she thought it would have been a good idea to tent
over the gardens in your square.'

'Yes, I've seen it done.'

'So have I, and I know exactly what hard work it is. Anyway, I thought
we both agreed that we just want a simple wedding breakfast, somewhere
like the Lanesborough-not five hundred people and a ballroom at the Ritz.'

'Well, maybe we do, but we aren't our mothers. Stop worrying about it,'
Marcus advised her, 'and let them get on with it and enjoy themselves. I
don't want you too worn out to enjoy our honeymoon.'

Lucy could feel her face starting to burn.

'If I am, that won't be because of the wedding preparations,' she told
him valiantly.

'Shagged out already?' Marcus asked her directly.

'Totally,' Lucy agreed lightly. There was no point in wishing he had
spoken more lovingly. 'When will you be back?'

'Oh, not so shagged out that you don't want more?'

'I was asking because of the christening,' Lucy told him in a dignified
voice.

'Uh-huh? Well, don't worry, I haven't forgotten that we're driving down
to the christening on Thursday.'

Julia and Silas were having their three-month-old son christened at the
weekend, and Lucy had been asked to be one of his godmothers along with
Carly, the third member of their trio.

Although Silas was based in New York, he and Julia

spent as much time as they could in England, mainly because of Julia's
elderly grandfather, and the christening was being held in a small
village close to his stately home.

'I'd better go; take care of yourself,' Marcus told her calmly, before
ending the call.

No I love you; no do you love me... But then, how could there be? Marcus
didn't love her.

'I'm going now, Mrs Crabtree,' Lucy called out to the housekeeper,
forcing back the threatening tears clogging her throat.

Marcus's housekeeper had made it plain that she welcomed the idea of
Marcus being married, and she and Lucy had spent several very happy
afternoons discussing how best to renovate the slightly old-fashioned
kitchen.

'There's a parcel just arrived for you, Lucy,' she called back.

'Oh?' Lucy hurried into the kitchen and stared at the large box sitting
on the table.

There was a note attached to it, in Marcus's handwriting.

Hope that this will make our mornings together worth waking up to.

Slightly pink-cheeked, Lucy started to open it. Marcus had already
ensured that she thought he was worth waking up to, and it was difficult
to imagine how he could make their mornings any more of a sexual
pleasure than they already were.

But she realised that had been wrong as she opened the box to reveal not
some outre sexual toy, but an espresso coffee machine.

'Oh, Marcus!' she whispered, suddenly overwhelmed by the emotions she
had been trying to suppress.

108

'He said as how you were missing your espresso in the morning,' Mrs
Crabtree told Lucy with a wide smile.

She desperately wanted to ring him and thank him, but she *******ed
herself instead with simply texting him-in case he was already with his
client.

Lucy exhaled slowly in relief. It looked very much as though the evening
was going to be the success her corporate clients had hoped for. Having
half a dozen Premier League football stars here had certainly been a
good draw, and the models and It Girls clustered around them were making
heavy inroads into the orange and red striped cocktail invented to match
the orange and red flash on the new football boots being promoted.

If so far as the female guests were concerned the footballers were the
main attraction, then her clients were equally delighted by the number
of media people attending, and had told her so.

The cheerleaders had done their bit and been wildly applauded, and even
her tongue-in-cheek curry and chips mini-suppers had been greeted with
enthusiasm-especially by the footballers.

'Lucy!'

'Dorland.' Lucy smiled affectionately as the magazine owner and editor
took hold of her arm and guided her to one of the tables.

'You're a very naughty girl not telling me about you and Marcus,' he
told her, wagging his finger in front of her. 'I had to read about your
engagement in The Times.'

Lucy gave what she hoped was a convincing laugh. 'Blame Marcus for that,
Dorland, not me. But you are coming to the wedding, aren't you?'

His expression softened. 'Of course.'

Lucy had insisted that Dorland was to be invited as a guest, even though
her mother had not totally approved.

'Lovely stiffie by the way, sweetie. Very grand. It has pride of place
on my mantelpiece.'

Lucy giggled. These days, 'stiffie' didn't mean 'upmarket invitation' to
her.

'Lucy, there's something I want to talk to you about,' Dorland added,
suddenly looking unfamiliarly serious. 'Come here and sit down for a
minute.'

'What's wrong?' Lucy asked him, as soon as they were tucked away in a
corner.

'One of my snappers mentioned that he'd seen you having lunch at the
Pont Street Brasserie the other week with Andrew Walker.'

Lucy could feel herself starting to colour up guiltily. What bad luck.
She had seen the paparazzi outside the Brasserie, and she should have
guessed she would be spotted. Dorland had eyes and ears everywhere.

'He knows my cousin,' she answered as casually as she could, but Dorland
was shaking his head.

'He's a really bad guy, Lucy. Don't get involved with him.'

The shock of Dorland looking so serious and saying something so
appalling made her stare at him uneasily. 'What do you mean?'

'How much do you know about him?' Dorland asked her.

'He's a very successful entrepreneur who has built up a turnkey business
based in London supplying concierge services for wealthy people who
don't have time to sort out their own domestic support services.'

'That's the legitimate tip of the iceberg of his business,' Dorland told
her flatly. 'The truth is that he works for a group of Eastern European
mafia-type thugs, fronting a

110

money-laundering exercise. The workers he uses in his turnkey business
are mostly illegals, brought into this country to work in fear for their
lives. The poor sods have to pay thousands to get into this country in
the first place, and then when they get here they're told that they can
be sent back at any minute if the authorities find out about them. So
they're forced to work for next to nothing and housed like battery chickens.

'And that isn't the worst of it. Young women-girls- sometimes sold by
their families, sometimes just stolen, are sold into prostitution and
passed from owner to owner. What he's involved in is the cruellest
business in the world. He traffics in human misery and degradation. And,
by the way, Andrew Walker isn't even his real name.'

'How can you know all this?' Lucy protested.

'I know because last year he approached me with an offer to buy his way
into A-List Life. He said that he was looking for somewhere to invest
the profits from his turnkey business. He talked about taking A-List
Life into Europe and even Russia. I admit for while I was tempted, and
not just because of the money he was talking about- which was
phenomenal. But once I started looking a little deeper and asking
questions all sorts of stuff started crawling out of the woodwork.

'The reason he wanted to buy into A-List Life was because he's looking
for ways and means to launder the money he's making from trading in
refugees and prostitutes. He told me about an idea he'd had for us to
employ our own A-List Life girls as "hostesses" at celeb events. The way
he described it, it sounded perfectly above board and respectable.'
Dorland shook his head. 'It wasn't. What he meant, of course, was that
he wanted to use A-List Life to supply upmarket prostitutes.'

With every word Dorland spoke, Lucy's heart was hammering harder.

'I'm not going to pry into your personal business affairs, Lucy, but I
know how these people work-they offer of a terrific business deal made
in secret and kept that way. If that's why you were having lunch with
him, then take my advice and don't get involved.'

'But if he's as bad as you say, why haven't the authorities done
anything about it?' Lucy asked Dorland unhappily.

'Probably because he's too clever for them to prove anything. The only
reason I know is because I asked around- and I asked the right people.
London has its share of Russian oligarchs, some of whom I happen to
know, and they know people who know other people, et cetera. They aren't
involved in any way with him, or what he does, but they have contacts
who have contacts, and they know the people he does business with. And I
was told-don't get involved. He and those he works for play very dirty.
Have you told Marcus about lunching with him?'

Lucy shook her head.

'No. And I...I couldn't. Not now.'

'No. He definitely wouldn't like it,' Dorland agreed.

'We only had a meeting, that was all,' Lucy stressed. 'Nothing more.'

'Well, if I were you, Lucy, I'd make sure that there aren't any more
meetings. And I'd also make sure that Walker knows you aren't interested
in any proposals he may put to you, either now or at any time in the
future. It's none of my business, I know that, but I've always had a bit
of soft spot for Pret a Party and for you. You've got class, Lucy, and I
like that. I admire what you did with Pret a Party, even if things
haven't worked out. But it's just the kind of outfit he's looking for,
and once he drags

112

you down into the dirt with him I'm afraid you'll have the devil's own
job getting out of it again. These people know how to keep their victims
trapped and dependent on them, and like as not they'll drag Marcus down
with you.'

Lucy looked at the letter she had just finished checking. It was to
Andrew Walker, telling him that since she was shortly to get married she
had decided against going ahead with the business venture they had
discussed. Her husband was going to become her new business partner, she
had added, untruthfully.

She signed it, then folded it carefully and put it in the envelope she
had already addressed.

Just to make sure that Andrew Walker did receive it she was going to the
post office with it right now, so that she could send it for guaranteed
delivery.

She gave a small shudder as she sealed the envelope. Thank heavens
Dorland had alerted her to the real nature of Andrew Walker's business.
She just wished that the authorities could do something to prevent him
from continuing with his evil trade. But when she had said as much to
Dorland, Dorland had shaken his head and told her grimly, 'Removing him
wouldn't solve the problem. There will be a hundred or more other men
all too willing to take his place. Illegal workers are big business, and
men like Walker get a double pay-off-firstly when the poor devils pay
for what they believe is going to be their freedom in another country,
and secondly when they have to pay over most of their wages to buy the
silence of the very people responsible for them being there. They can't
win, and men like Walker can't lose. And that's why it's so hard for the
authorities to do anything. Their victims are too afraid to say anything.'

And Pret a Party would have been an ideal moneylaundering vehicle for
them, Lucy recognised. All the more so because it was so
labour-intensive, and in a way that used casual labour.

Thank goodness she hadn't told Marcus about it. He would probably have
been too worldly aware to fall into the trap she had, and she could just
imagine what he would have had to say about the situation if he'd known
how easily she had fallen for Andrew Walker's smooth words. No doubt he
would have also immediately reminded her that she had already proved her
naiveté once, by marrying Nick and letting him defraud her, and that
there was no need for her to compound her folly.

Marcus. He would be back later this afternoon, and then tomorrow they
were driving down to the country for the christening.

Marcus. Didn't she already have enough to worry about without this added
problem of Andrew Walker and the trap he had set for her?

'You're very quiet.'

'Am I?' Lucy gave Marcus a too-bright smile, glad of the glaring
sunlight that meant she could hide behind her sunglasses as Marcus drove
them towards the motorway, en route to the christening. They were going
down a couple of days early so that Lucy, Carly and Julia could have
some time together before the other guests arrived, and Lucy was really
looking forward to seeing her two oldest friends.

Marcus had booked them into a small manorhouse hotel, teasing her that
they could 'practise for their honeymoon,' which they were actually
taking in the Caribbean.

She had missed him desperately while he had been away, but last night
when he had returned she had felt so

114

on edge about the Andrew Walker business, and so guilty, that she had
just not been able to relax with him.

Not even in bed.

'How did the football boot do go?'

'Oh, fine.' Lucy could feel her face burning, simply because of the
association between that event, Dorland's revelations and her own guilt.

Marcus frowned as he listened to her. Something had changed while he had
been away. Lucy had changed, he thought grimly. Why? Because she was
still having second thoughts about their marriage? His mouth hardened.
He had no intentions of giving her up. Not to anyone. And if her doubts
were being caused by a longing for Nick Blayne, he was most certainly
not giving her up. Couldn't she see how much better off she would be
with him?

'I've spoken to McVicar and told him that I intend to make a cash
injection into Pret a Party's bank account sufficient to clear any
outstanding debts, and the bank overdraft, plus allow for a small amount
of working capital.'

'No!'

Lucy realised that her instinctive objection had been louder than she
had anticipated, but she pressed on doggedly. 'I've already told you
that I don't want you to do that. I have enough left in my own trust
fund to do almost all of it, Marcus.'

Marcus's mouth thinned, whilst Lucy's face burned from her anguished
dread of Marcus reminding her of what a fool she had been over Nick. But
how could she tell anyone, and most especially Marcus, that she had felt
so guilty about marrying Nick when she didn't love him that she had felt
unable to question anything he did?

'I realise that you are so rich it doesn't matter if you have to pay off
my debts for me, Marcus, but I don't want

you to do that. I'd rather pay them off myself. I don't want to feel
financially indebted to you over my business.'

'Very well, then. If you feel like that, why don't I join you in Pret a
Party as a partner? We could be-'

Sleeping partners, he had been about to say. But before he could do so
Lucy burst out sharply, 'No! No. I don't want that.'

Why? Marcus wanted to ask her. But he could see how upset and angry she
was getting, and he was afraid... He was afraid, Marcus acknowledged, on
a sudden unfamiliar surge of shock that gripped his belly in sharp
talons and caused a pain he had never previously experienced.

He was afraid of losing her, he recognised. Did she still love Blayne,
despite the appalling way in which her ex-husband had treated her?
Blayne had left her for another woman, but was Lucy hoping that one day
he might come back? Did she think that by hanging on to Pret a Party she
might one day entice him to return?

What was happening? She had seemed happy to be with him, happy about
their future-and certainly happy with him in bed. Had seemed... But last
night she had stood stiffly in his arms until he had let her go, and
now, today, she was behaving though he was the last person she wanted to
be with.

On a coruscating surge of pain, he recognised that Lucy's refusal to
allow him to help was actually hurting him. How could that be? Why could
it be?

Lucy pressed her fingers to her aching temples. She wished desperately
that their relationship were different, that she could confide in Marcus
and tell him all about Andrew Walker and his approach to her. But she
couldn't.

'We're leaving the motorway at the next junction,' she heard Marcus
telling her after a while, adding, 'The hotel is only a few miles
further on. I thought we'd go there

116

first, and leave our things. What time did you say Julia and Silas are
expecting us?'

'Any time after two, Jules said. So there's no immediate rush.' Would he
recognise that she was trying to hint to him that she would welcome some
time alone with him before they went to see Jules and Silas and the new
baby? It could be an opportunity for her to make some small amends for
last night, to show both him and herself that her inability to respond
to him then wasn't some kind of ominous portent. Lucy hoped so. For his
sake or for her own?

'It looks as though they're going to be lucky with the weather too,' she
added inanely. 'The forecast is good for the whole weekend.'

'This is our exit junction,' Marcus told her.

He didn't speak much until they had travelled for several miles down
pretty country lanes and through several small villages, other than to
say casually, 'This is a very pretty part of the country-and convenient
for London. It might be worthwhile considering it as a possibility for
househunting. What do you think?'

'I do love it down here,' Lucy admitted. 'I used to come and stay with
Jules during our school holidays, and I've always thought it was
somewhere I'd like to live.'

'Here's our hotel.'

Crunchy gravel and autumn leaves, smoke from chimneys drifting like pale
grey silk across a sharp blue sky, the scent of woodsmoke and fresh air:
what could be more evocative of an English country house? Lucy
reflected, as she stood beside the car and watched the deer in the park
beyond the house as they stared back with huge soft Bambi eyes.

In the reception hall the smell of beeswax mingled with lavender and
rose pot pourri. The smiling receptionist,

dressed in a tweed skirt, cashmere and pearls, might have been the
house's gracious owner and hostess as she explained that they had been
given a suite in the barn conversion, separate from the main hotel.

'I think you'll like it. But do come over and have a look.'

As they crossed the courtyard Lucy could see where part of the original
moat to the house had been turned into a pond, complete with two swans
and a bevy of eager ducks.

'They've adopted us,' the receptionist explained with a smile. 'We have
peacocks too, by the way, do please don't be alarmed when you hear
them-some people don't care for the noise, but personally I think their
beauty more than compensates for it.'

The stable block was a long two-storey building, with its own sunny
entrance hall and a set of wide stairs.

'We have two suites downstairs and two upstairs. We've put you upstairs.'

Dutifully Lucy and Marcus followed her to the galleried landing and
waited whilst she unlocked one of two doors with a heavy old-fashioned key.

Beyond the door lay a narrow short corridor, and beyond that an enormous
bedroom with a huge bed and a proper fireplace.

'The suite has two bathrooms-one either side of the bed,' she explained,
indicating the two doors. 'The sofas here in the bedroom convert into
extra beds for families, and through here...' She led them to a door
next to the fireplace and opened it, to show a pretty
sitting-cum-breakfast room with a balcony and views over the countryside.

'Well?' Marcus asked Lucy.

'It's lovely,' she told the receptionist warmly.

 
 

 
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كاتب الموضوع : نيارااا المنتدى : الارشيف
افتراضي Chapter Seven
 

Chapter Seven


'Good, I'm glad you like it. I'll get someone to help you with your
luggage.'

'Marcus, this is gorgeous,' Lucy told him as soon as they were alone.
'Very romantic. Especially with the fire.' She moved towards him. She
had been so on edge and filled with guilt last night, following
Dorland's revelations, that she had not dared let him hold her in case
she broke down and sobbed the whole thing out on his shoulder. But right
now she was aching for him so much. Why didn't she just put the whole
sorry episode of Andrew Walker behind her and enjoy being with Marcus
instead?

'Mmm. Look, we'd better get a move on. It took us slightly longer to get
here than I expected.'

Marcus was turning way from her, ignoring her subtle hint that she would
like him to take her to bed. She recognised the signs easily. After all
she had experienced them often enough at Nick's hands.

119

'Lucy!'

Lucy forced herself to smile as Julia hugged her tightly, and grinned.

'You're here! Oh, I am so excited. And Marcus too. Let me see the ring.
Oh, Lucy! Of course Silas insists that he always felt there were some
pretty strong undercurrents going on between you and Marcus-don't you,
darling?' Julia appealed to her husband.

'Well, let's just say that your sex doesn't always have an exclusive
hold on intuition, does it, son?' Silas addressed the blue-wrapped
bundle he was holding mock-solemnly. 'Actually it was Lucy who gave the
game away, to be honest. It's so rare to see you getting wound up about
anything or anyone, Lucy, that I couldn't help but wonder if there was
something else going on when you kept on insisting that you hated
Marcus. And, as we all know...'

'Hatred is akin to love,' Julia chimed in with Silas, and they exchanged
amused looks.

Lucy could feel her face starting to burn. Hastily she reached out her
arms and begged, 'Silas, please let me hold my new godson-to-be.'

'He's heavy, Lucy,' Julia warned her, suddenly all proud mother, wanting
them to recognise her still tiny son's promise of adult male strength to
come.

'Carry rang just before you arrived, by the way. She and Ricardo should
be here soon. You know that they've rented a house in the village for
the weekend?'

'Yes, she e-mailed to tell me.'

120

'I'd have liked to offer you all room here, but we've already got my
family, and Silas's descending on Gramps tomorrow. Are you sure my son
isn't getting too heavy for you?' she demanded. They were all standing
in the large, slightly draughty drawing room Julia had taken them to,
and, sensing that her friend was already eager for the return of her
baby, Lucy smiled down at him, stroking his cheek gently with her finger
as she walked over to Julia and handed him back.

Marcus was standing with Silas, supposedly listening to what Silas was
saying about the current situation with the dollar, but he couldn't stop
himself from watching her. Julia might be baby Nat's mother, but it was
Lucy, with her doting, blissed-out expression, whose face was that of a
traditional radiant Madonna-all soft, beatific love. There was a feeling
in his heart as though it were being wrenched apart by two giant fists.
Angrily he struggled to suppress it.

As she handed Nat back to Julia, Lucy couldn't help reflecting
desolately that if Marcus continued to behave as coldly towards her as
he had done earlier, in their hotel suite, then if she wasn't already
pregnant she would probably never hold a child of her own. What was it
about her that made her so undesirable and so undesired by the very men
who were supposed to want her? First Nick and now Marcus. She looked
over to where Marcus was standing with Silas, the two men deep in
conversation.

'Lucy, come and sit down,' Julia invited, patting the empty space on the
sofa next to her.

'I'm so glad about you and Marcus.' She beamed as Lucy obeyed her
instruction. 'I know how unhappy Nick made you, and I've felt so guilty
about that because you met him through me. Marcus will-' She broke off as a

large Mercedes swept past the window, then exclaimed happily, 'Oh, good,
that will be Carly and Ricardo.'

Five minutes later the large room was full of the sound of warmly
excited female voices as the three women exchanged news and gossip.

'Just look at how much he's grown,' Lucy exclaimed in awe as she admired
Carly and Ricardo's son before adding, 'And look at you, too, Carly-six
months pregnant and yet you look as stunning and elegant as ever.'

With so much to say to one another, and two adorable babies to admire,
Lucy started to relax, her earlier forced smile giving way to one that
was far more natural. So much so, in fact, that when Marcus came over to
where she was seated with Carly and Julia and the children, and placed a
hand on her shoulder, she had to tense her whole body to stop herself
from leaning into him and letting him see how much he meant to her.

'I am so looking forward to the wedding, Lucy,' Carly announced
excitedly. 'After all, you're the only one of the three of us to have a
proper regulation do.'

'Oh, yes, I'm looking forward to it, too,' Julia chimed in. 'When did
you first realise you loved Lucy, Marcus?' she asked him.

Lucy immediately dipped her head, so her hair swung forward to conceal
her expression.

'Not soon enough,' Marcus responded calmly. 'If I had, she would never
have been allowed to marry Blayne.'

Everyone laughed, and Lucy let her pent-up breath leak away in shaky
relief. What had she been afraid he might say? That he didn't love her
at all? Marcus was far too cerebral to make a slip like that.

'That was a very pleasant evening.' 'I'm glad you enjoyed it,' Lucy
replied as the lights of

122

Julia's grandfather's house were left behind them and Marcus's Bentley
purred softly onto the main road.

'I'm even more convinced now, if we are going to think of buying a house
outside London, that this would be a good area to consider. What do you
think?'

'Like I said before, it is a very pretty part of the country,' Lucy
agreed. 'And Julia did say that she and Silas are hoping that ultimately
they will be spending more time here. Of course when Julia's grandfather
dies Silas will inherit the title and the house, but they both want
their children to grow up knowing their English heritage as well as
their American heritage.'

She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. It had been a good
evening, with the three men getting on as well as the women did
themselves. There had even been whole moments when she had almost
managed to persuade herself that she and Marcus were a normal soon-to-be
married couple.

She certainly wished that they were. Just as she wished that right now
they were going back to their hotel suite as genuine lovers who just
couldn't wait to be alone together.

Lucy had fallen asleep within minutes of them leaving her friends, and
as he brought the car to a halt in the hotel car park Marcus turned in
his seat to look at her. He would be glad when she was safely married to
him and he could once again focus his attention on the bank, instead of
constantly having to be on his guard in case Lucy tried to change her
mind and refuse to go through with their marriage.

He reached out and touched her arm, saying calmly, 'Lucy-wake up. We're
here.'

'Marcus?' Emotion illuminated her whole face as she looked back at him.
Suddenly Marcus felt as though he

had been kicked in the chest and deprived of the ability to breathe.
Something-a feeling-a need-roared through him, threatening to blast
apart the fixed standing stones of his beliefs.

Oblivious to what was happening to him, Lucy continued sleepily, 'I was
just dreaming about you and...'

'And?' Marcus probed, his voice rusty as he fought back an unfamiliar
urge to take hold of her and go on holding her, so that he could satisfy
his need to physically experience the reality of her.

'Nothing.' Lucy shook her head, but she could feel her face going a
betraying shade of pink. It was obvious that Marcus had guessed just
what she had been dreaming, too, because all of sudden there was a very
definite gleam in his eyes.

'Do I take it from that pretty pink flush that it was the kind of dream
I would enjoy turning into reality?' he asked, as his own body responded
to the desire he could see in her eyes.

It took Lucy several speeded-up heartbeats to recognise that Marcus was
actually flirting with her, and several more to take a deep breath,
jettison her pride and answer him boldly. 'Well, I would certainly enjoy
you doing so, Marcus. Marcus!' she protested breathlessly, as suddenly
he kissed her so fiercely that she could hardly breathe.

'Come on,' he commanded, releasing her and then getting out of the car
and going round to open the passenger door for her.

Their journey from the car to their suite was accomplished in between so
many kisses that Lucy felt half delirious with desire by the time they
reached their room. Holding her within one arm, Marcus continued to kiss
her while he inserted the key in the lock and turned the handle.

A fire was burning in the hearth, the maid had been up

124

and closed the curtains, and the room itself smelled of pine logs and
warmth and intimacy.

'Marcus...' she whispered eagerly.

'Mmm?'

'Hurry.'

'Like this, do you mean?'

He was touching her, despite the fact that they were both still fully
dressed, so that her whole body convulsed.

'My clothes...' she protested, wanting to be rid of them. But her body
was telling Marcus that it didn't want to wait-and, he realised
fiercely, neither did his own.

He took her quickly and hotly, there and then, in the shadowy bedroom,
compelled and driven by his need to possess her and make her his in a
way that was totally outside anything he had ever previously experienced.

She loved what he was doing-and the way he was doing it, Lucy thought
dizzily as she wrapped her legs around him and felt the swift surges of
pleasure grip her. Later there would be time to undress, to pleasure one
another more slowly and thoroughly, but right now this was exactly what
she wanted and how she wanted it. How she wanted him.

She still couldn't fully take it in that that a few weeks from now she
would actually be Marcus's wife. Lucy took a gulp of her espresso and
reminded herself sternly that the reason she was here in her office was
to work, and not to think about the many and varied pleasures of
becoming Mrs Marcus Carring. Pleasures which, right now, were
suppressing the doubts that had been tormenting her. It was, after all,
an undeniable truth that those pleasures were so many and so varied that
it was almost impossible for her not to fantasise about them. And so...

Hastily she forced herself to concentrate on what she

was supposed to be doing-namely, updating her client files and dealing
with her other paperwork. The slow trickle of new business had now
become a sporadic drip- little more than sympathy and family-generated
events. Which was a problem, of course, so far as securing enough future
income to finance her Pret a Party debts was concerned, but not so much
of a problem when she thought of the amount of time it would free up for
her to get used to being married. In fact, if it wasn't for the wretched
debts Nick had left her, she could have been very happy, slowly
rebuilding her business on a much smaller and more containable scale.

Lucy had another gulp of her favourite caffeine fix and idly scanned the
huge double-page spread of photographs from Nat's christening which,
true to form, Dorland had used as his centrepiece for that week's A-List
Life. There was one especially good photograph of her holding her new
godson, with Marcus standing at her side.

Marcus. She was doing the right thing in marrying him, she told herself
firmly.

There was a loud knock on her half-open office door and she swung round
eagerly, hoping to see Marcus, although he had told her that he was
driving to Manchester today to see a client.

'Lucy. Good, I hoped you would be here.'

Andrew Walker.

Lucy stared at her unexpected and definitely unwanted visitor in
apprehensive dismay, unable to say anything more than an uncomfortable,
'Oh! Andrew. You did get my letter, didn't you?'

'Yes, Lucy. I got your letter,' he confirmed, walking past her to stand
in front of the window, so that her expression was plainly revealed to
him whilst he was just a fuzzy dark blur against the sunlit windows.

126

'I was very sorry to learn that you no longer wanted to proceed with our
plans. In fact I was so disappointed that I thought I'd come and see you
to see if I could find a way to persuade you to change your mind.'

Was she imagining it, or was there a subtle threat in those calmly
spoken words? Lucy could feel the sharp hammer-blows of her heartbeat as
it mirrored her fear.

'I explained in my letter, Andrew. I'm getting married and-'

'Yes, indeed. To Marcus Carring, I believe.'

'Yes,' Lucy acknowledged. 'Yes. And once we are married Marcus wants to
become my partner in Pret a Party.' That should convince Andrew Walker
that it wasn't just her he had to contend with now, even if she was in
reality fibbing to him.

'Really?'

There was something in the way Andrew Walker was looking at her that
made Lucy feel afraid.

'You know, my dear, you are turning down a wonderful business
opportunity here. And as for allowing your husband to be to become your
partner... One never knows these days what the future of a marriage will
be. Modern marriages are such very flimsy constructions at the best of
times, don't you think? A sensible woman might think it a good idea to
maintain her own financial independence from her husband.'

Lucy only just managed to stop herself from gasping out loud. Had Andrew
Walker somehow read her mind? What he had just said echoed everything
she had been saying to herself.

'My partners and I are prepared to make you a very generous offer to buy
into Pret a Party, Lucy, and I can give you my assurance that everything
will be dealt with very discreetly. The cash could be paid into an overseas

bank of your choice, should you want that, and no one apart from
ourselves need ever know anything about the whole transaction.'

If she hadn't known the truth about him she would have been very tempted
to accept what he was offering her, Lucy recognised. Because, despite
the fact that Marcus physically desired her, her fear that without love
their marriage could not survive would not go away. It was that fear
that had prevented her from accepting Marcus's offer of finance and his
suggestion that he came into the business, and that fear, too, that made
her want to keep Pret a Party under her own control and not share it
with a husband.

But Andrew Walker's statement had reminded her of everything Dorland had
said to her.

'No, I suppose they needn't-including those poor wretches whose lives
you've ruined to get the money in the first place,' she burst out
impetuously. 'I know all about why you want Pret a Party, you know-and
what you're doing.'

There was a small, tight silence and then Andrew Walker said sharply,
'Do you indeed?'

She had made another mistake, Lucy realised. And a very bad one.

How had she ever thought of Andrew Walker's face as nondescript and
pleasant? Now, as he came towards her, she could see the real Andrew
Walker instead of the kindly mask he had hidden behind.

Dorland had been right. This was a very bad man. Fear pooled in her
stomach and her muscles tightened round it.

Exactly the same feelings of sick disbelief and fear she had experienced
when she had first learned of Nick's treachery were coiling through her
stomach now. And, exactly as it had been then, her first thought was
that she wished desperately that Marcus were her to help her. Her

128

second was that she was equally desperately glad that he wasn't here to
witness her stupidity.

And yet she was still unable to stop herself from repeating shakily, 'I
do know all about how you and your partners make your money, and why you
want Pret a Party.'

'You know, Lucy, you really shouldn't listen to gossip from jealous and
unreliable sources,' Andrew Walker told her evenly. 'Why don't you take
my advice and think a little bit harder about our offer, and about
letting Marcus Carring become your partner? That wouldn't be a very good
move, and my colleagues would certainly not be pleased were you to do
that. After all, as I just said, nothing is certain in this
life-especially not marriage. You've been married once already, and-'

'I won't listen to any more.' Lucy stopped him passionately. 'There
isn't any point in you trying to pressure me by offering me money. I
don't want it and I won't change my mind.'

'Are you sure you're doing the right thing marrying Carring, Lucy?'

His question caught her off guard.

'Yes, of course I'm sure,' she lied. 'I love him.' That much at least
was the truth. 'In fact I've always loved him,' she added defiantly.

She could see that her declaration had not pleased him. He doubtless
knew that he would not be able to deceive and bully Marcus the way he
had tried to do her.

'I'd advise you to think very carefully about what I've just said,' he
told her sharply. 'Oh, and I wouldn't tell Marcus Carring about our
conversation if I were you-for your own sake and for his.' Andrew Walker
ignored her attempted reply to that, and stepped past her to open the
office door. 'I shall be in touch.'

He'd gone. He'd actually gone. Lucy felt sick with relief. When she
attempted to stand to go and lock her office door, to make sure he
couldn't come back, her legs simply would not support her.

She would have to close down Pret a Party completely now, she decided
shakily. She couldn't think of any other way to protect both herself and
her business.

When Marcus questioned why she was giving up the business she had fought
so hard to keep going, she would simply have to tell him that she had
been giving the matter a great deal of thought and that she wanted to
concentrate on them-their marriage and their future together.

Lie to him. in other words.

The sick feeling in the pit of her stomach increased.

But what other choice did she have? How could she tell him the truth
now? If she told him he would stand there and look at her the way he had
when she'd had to tell him that Nick had not just been unfaithful to her
but that he had also defrauded the business. With angry disbelief, with
irritation and with contempt. She just did not think she could bear that.

'It's supposed to be bad luck for you to see me in my outfit before we
get married, you know,' Lucy reproached Marcus.

Marcus had just let them both into his house, having picked up Lucy from
her parents' home earlier.

'You aren't in your wedding outfit,' he pointed out. 'At least, not
unless you've changed your mind and you intend to marry me wearing jeans.'

'Don't be silly. I'm not wearing the dress now, but I was when you came
round.'

'I didn't see you in it, though,' Marcus assured her, but Lucy could see
that he had his fingers crossed behind his

130

back, and she couldn't help but smile, albeit a little bit wanly. These
last few weeks had been so stressful.

'Cheer up-it will soon be over now,' Marcus told her as though he had
somehow guessed how she felt. 'And then once we're on honeymoon you'll
be able to relax.'

Lucy exhaled heavily and told him emphatically, 'I can't wait.'

There was a small potent silence during which her colour rose. She saw
the way Marcus was looking at her, and then he said obliquely, 'No, I
don't think I can either.'

Silently they both looked at one another.

'It's been a very long few weeks,' Lucy told him breathlessly. The look
she had seen in his eyes was causing her heart to jerk about inside her
chest as though he was holding it on a string.

As he stood watching her Marcus was suddenly aware of a most peculiar
emotion filling him and driving him. A need-a compulsion, almost-to take
Lucy in his arms and keep her there, whilst he...

He shook his head, trying to dispel the unfamiliar emotions that were
gripping him. 'Why don't we...?' he began slowly, and then frowned as
they were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell being rung. He went
to open the door and, while Lucy watched, took a package from the
waiting courier and signed for it.

'Do you want to make us both a drink while I check to see what this is?'
he asked her.

She just couldn't resist the temptation to look at him, Lucy admitted to
herself as she lingered to watch him as he began to open the package.
When he did so, removing the *******s and studying them, a couple of
photographs slid free and fell onto the floor.

Automatically Lucy went to pick them up.

'No-don't touch them. Leave them.'

The harshness of his grim command instantly reminded her of the old
Marcus. 'What-?' she began, and then stopped as she stared down at the
floor and the photograph that was lying there face upwards.

She had heard of the expression 'her blood ran cold", but she had never
until that moment imagined she might experience it as a physical
sensation-as though the warmth of her blood was draining away to be.
replaced with something that felt like ice.

'Marcus...' Her voice a shocked, disbelieving whisper of anguish, she
looked from the photograph to his unreadable face and then back to the
photograph again.

On it her own face stared back at her: her mouth smiling, her eyes open,
alight with excitement and delight. And the reason for that delight was...

She looked at the photograph again and her stomach heaved. Her body was
naked, her arms and legs spread, held down by four sets of male hands,
whilst a fifth man was positioned between her spread legs, obviously
having sex with her.

Like someone in a trance, she bent down and picked up the other photograph.

'Lucy! No!'

Marcus made a lunge to stop her, but he was still holding the *******s
of the package. Ignoring him as though she hadn't even heard him, Lucy
turned over the second photograph. This one was even worse.
She looked at what Marcus was holding. More photographs and a video.
There was a picture of her on the front


of the video. The caption on it read!

Lucy felt her stomach heave.

She ran to the bathroom and was immediately and violently sick.
Shivering with disgust, she clung to the basin and turned on the taps,
washing her face and then cleaning her teeth. She wanted to tear off her
clothes and stand under the hottest, hardest shower she could find. She
wanted to scrub at her skin and somehow remove the filth she could
almost feel clinging to her.

'Lucy.'

Marcus was standing in the open doorway to the bathroom, an expression
in his eyes that she distantly thought looked like pain, but which she
knew must be disgust.

'It isn't me,' she told him, slowly and carefully, fixing her gaze on
the far wall so that she didn't have to look at him and see in his eyes
what she knew would be there. If he had looked at her before with
irritation and contempt, that was nothing to how he would be looking at
her now. 'I know it looks like me, but it isn't.'

Silence.

What had she expected? That he would sweep her up into his arms and tell
her that he loved her? After seeing that?

'You won't want to marry me now, of course. How could you?' She was
amazed at how calm and accepting she sounded. How reasoning and
distanced from the wild, shrieking agony of pain and disbelief inside her.

'I'd better go home and tell everyone.' How was she managing to sound so
polite? So much as though she were attending a formal tea party at her
great-aunt's rather than experiencing, enduring what she was going through?

She certainly felt as cold as though she were at her

great-aunt's, she admitted, as her teeth started to chatter and rigours
of icy cold gripped her body.

'Lucy.'

Marcus's hands felt so warm as they cupped her face, and his body was so
reassuringly close, even though she hadn't even seen him cross the space
between them.

'Please don't,' she begged him piteously, as her body caved in to her
shock and tears welled in her eyes to roll down her face. 'Please don't
make it harder for me, Marcus. I know what you must be thinking, and how
you must feel.'

'Do you?' he demanded, so savagely that she flinched. 'No, I don't think
you do,' he told her harshly, 'I don't think you can know how I feel
knowing that you have been exposed to this kind of...of filth. That you
have been dragged into it and degraded by it.'

'Marcus, I haven't. It isn't me. Please believe me. It isn't.' She
couldn't hold back the words any longer, even though she knew he would
not and could not possibly believe her. Not with the evidence of those
horrible photographs.

She could see how darkly he was frowning at her, probably thinking she
was compounding her guilt by lying about it.

'I know it isn't you,' he said, with an almost dismissive shrug. 'It's
obvious that it couldn't possibly be you. How could it be?'

He believed her?

'You...you know that it isn't me?" Lucy repeated cautiously, afraid to
trust in her own hearing.

'Yes, of course I know it isn't you,' Marcus replied, with familiar
sharp impatience.

'But how? How can you know?' Lucy asked him shakily.

134

'Apart from anything else, you have a small but very identifying mole,
high up on the outside of your left thigh,' Marcus told her calmly. 'And
whoever posed for the body shots for this-this abomination doesn't.'

'Oh!'

How very weird that the most important thing in her whole life should
hang on the existence of one tiny brown mole; that something not much
larger than a pinhead could make the difference between happiness for
the rest of her life or misery until she died-between trust and doubt,
between truth and lies, between being married to Marcus and being
rejected by him.

'It's obvious that someone has superimposed your face on the body of
someone else.'

'But someone else without my mole,' Lucy said, as lightly as she could.

Marcus was frowning at her now.

'The mole is simply a confirmation of what I already know, Lucy,' he
told her coolly. 'My own judgement is all I need to know that you could
never be the woman depicted in those photographs.'

To Marcus's own disbelief he realised that he wanted to reach for her
and hold her; that he wanted to tell her he would kill, breath by
breath, painfully and slowly, whoever was responsible for what had
happened; that he wanted to tell her that he knew not just with his
intellect but also with his heart, with the deepest part of himself,
that she would never ever indulge in the kind of scenario the
photographs depicted. He wanted to tell her that he knew that she was a
sensualist, a woman who loved the intimacy of one-to-one lovemaking, a
woman who celebrated her womanhood in the act of sharing pleasure with
just one man.

But how could he be feeling like this? He did not feel

things. He thought through his decisions logically and calmly. He did
not 'sense' them. He did not allow his emotions to sway his judgement.
And, most of all, he did not allow himself to feel his heart turning
over inside his chest in a roll of raw agony because Lucy's pain was his
pain. Because if he did, then that meant-

Angrily he slammed the door against the knowledge he did not want to accept.

'But why would anyone want to do such a thing?' Lucy was asking, giving
him something logical to focus on and deal with. 'Never mind send
those...those things to you?'

'It's probably just someone's idea of a joke,' Marcus told her, intent
on refusing to analyse what was happening to him inside his head. No,
not his head but his heart- that part of him that he had told himself,
when he had finally accepted that his father had deserted them, would in
future only be allowed to operate physically, never emotionally.

'A joke?'

'Yes, it happens all the time." He shrugged his shoulders. 'Young idiots
like your cousin Johnny, for instance, who have nothing better to do and-'

'But, Marcus, something like this isn't a joke,' Lucy protested.

'Look, let's just forget about it, shall we?' Marcus told her briskly.
'After all, we've both recognised it for what it is-at best a stupid,
senseless and very tasteless joke, and at worst a malicious attempt to
damage our relationship.'

'But who would do a thing like that?' Lucy asked, worry crinkling her
forehead.

'Who knows? The best thing we can do now is to ignore it and to forget
it,' Marcus repeated. But he knew he wasn't being entirely open with her.

 
 

 
عرض البوم صور نيارااا  
قديم 18-11-07, 09:05 PM   المشاركة رقم: 93
المعلومات
الكاتب:
اللقب:

البيانات
التسجيل: Jun 2006
العضوية: 7129
المشاركات: 287
الجنس أنثى
معدل التقييم: نيارااا عضو بحاجه الى تحسين وضعه
نقاط التقييم: 43

االدولة
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كاتب الموضوع : نيارااا المنتدى : الارشيف
افتراضي Chapter Eight
 

Chapter Eight




He was grimly aware that only this morning he had heard that the woman
Nick Blayne had left Lucy for had ended their relationship and thrown
him out, and that he was now virtually penniless.

There was no note with the package, but Marcus suspected that the video
and the accompanying photographs were the beginnings of a clumsy attempt
to blackmail him into paying for the 'master' copies. It was the kind of
thing that had Nick Blayne's grubby mark all over it, but Marcus didn't
want to upset Lucy by telling her so.

Or because he was concerned that if she knew that Blayne was free again
she might be tempted to go back to him?

'Marcus?'

Tears of reaction were rolling down Lucy's face. Her thoughts were a
jumbled mass of fear and confusion, plus intense relief that Marcus had
reacted in the way that he had. A wave of gratitude and love for him
surged through her, filling her eyes with fresh tears.

'It's all right, Lucy. It's all right,' Marcus told her gruffly.

'I'm not crying because I'm upset,' Lucy managed to tell him. 'I'm just
crying because I'm so happy that you didn't think it was me.'

Marcus wasn't aware of moving, only of holding her in his arms whilst
her whole body shuddered with reaction.

'Oh-but, Marcus, if you hadn't known about my mole...'

'Lucy, look at me.'

'My mascara's run and my nose is red,' she objected, sniffing.

'True,' Marcus agreed wryly, but his expression was warmer than she
could even remember seeing it. 'But I can still recognise you, Lucy. And
even if you had not had

your mole I would still have known that the body in those photographs
and in those situations could never have belonged to you.'

'How could you know that?'

'Because I know you,' Marcus answered her, simply and truthfully.

And it was true. He did know, at the most primitive and deepest level of
his being, that Lucy could never and would never be the girl in those
photographs.

And now he was beginning to know now something else as well; its message
was being thumped out to him via the heavy thud of his own heartbeat.

But he still wasn't ready to give in. His desire to marry Lucy came from
logic and not love. Came now? Or had originally come?

Lucy give him a small, tremulous half-smile, which wobbled slightly
despite her best efforts to prevent it from doing so. 'So you still want
to marry me, then?'

Marcus arched one eyebrow and told her dryly, 'Of course. It would take
a far braver man than I to disappoint a mother who has planned a wedding
breakfast for five hundred people.'

'I did tell her that we only wanted a quiet wedding,' Lucy assured him.

'Five hundred, five thousand, or five-frankly, my dear, I don't give a
tuppenny ha'penny damn how many guests there are. All I care about is
that you're there, Lucy.'

'Because you're nearly thirty-five and you want an heir?' She held her
breath, hoping against hope that by some miracle he would deny her
comment and declare that he loved her.

'Of course,' he agreed immediately.

Her foolish hope leaked away, leaving her starved of its comfort and
filled with pain.

138

'I'm going to take you back to your parents' place now,' he told her.

'Marcus!' Lucy protested.

'I mean it, Lucy. You can't stay here, tonight of all nights. We both
know that.'

And he knew that if he touched her he might just not be able to let her
go, Marcus was forced to acknowledge.

139

Lucy had refused point blank to wear a white wedding dress, and had been
on the point of giving up finding anything suitable in the short time
she'd had available when she had seen a Vera Wang dress in Harrods, in
ecru silk. Wonder of wonders, it had fitted her.

The long sheath-like gown had a tight-fitting corset-style bodice, a
detachable skirt, and a fishtail demi-train. In order to satisfy family
tradition a copy had been made of its matching close-fitting
bolero-style jacket from a piece of antique family lace.

She hadn't wanted to wear a veil either, but in the end had agreed to
wear a small pillbox-style hat with a very small 'almost' veil.

The promise of heavy-duty wedding-style cream lilies with appropriate
greenery, a positive phalanx of pages and bridesmaids of assorted junior
ranks from both their families, and the pomp and circumstance of the
Oratory and Handel's music had been enough to soothe her mother's
maternal angst about her not looking like a 'real' bride.

Marcus knew that she had entered the church from the excited rustle of
movement that seethed along the pews behind him, and to his own
astonishment felt compelled to turn and watch her as she walked down the
aisle towards him.

He felt his body tighten and his heart lurch in a reaction he had been
determined no woman would ever arouse in him-least of all Lucy.

140

It had really happened. She and Marcus really were married, Lucy
realised dizzily as the Bishop intoned mellif-luously, 'You may kiss the
bride."

And Marcus leaned towards her and then did just that. A cool and very
distant brushing of his lips against hers that filled her eyes with
painful despair and made her hand tremble within his.

Handel's musical paean of triumphal joy rang out as they walked together
back down the aisle and then out into the crisp sunshine of the November
afternoon, to be bombarded with rose petals by their well-wishers and
guests before being swept off in a cavalcade of shiny black limousines
to the imposing building built originally by a grateful nation for its
hero, the Duke of Wellington, for the wedding breakfast.

'Are you sure you aren't disappointed that we didn't book into a hotel
for tonight?' Marcus asked.

They were standing in his bedroom at the Wendover Square house-now their
bedroom. It still smelled just faintly of its refurbishments-a sort of
new paint, new fabric and new carpet smell, all mingled together.

'No, I'm not disappointed at all,' Lucy reassured him. 'After all, we're
flying off to the Caribbean on honeymoon tomorrow, and besides...'

'Besides what?' he demanded.

Lucy shook her head. They might be married, and she might be his wife,
but that didn't mean she felt she could tell him that she didn't care
where they were just so long as they were together, and that anyway his
house had now become inextricably linked in her emotions with the wonder
of the first night she had spent there and the joy of what it had led
her to.

'Nothing,' she fibbed, before admitting ruefully, 'I did

feel a bit of an idiot coming back here in the taxi still wearing my
wedding dress, though. Why did you want me to keep it on?'

The look he was giving her made her whole face colour up.

'Because I want to have the pleasure of taking it off, of course. All
those tiny buttons down the back have been tantalising me for hours,'
Marcus told her truthfully, 'and the sooner the better, I think.
Certainly before we make use of our very sensuous new en suite bathroom.'

'You were the one who suggested it,' she reminded him a little
defensively. Her parents-very much of the old school-had shaken their
heads over the waste of so much expensive London floor space on a mere
bathroom.

'Mmm. I've got very fond memories of the bathroom in our suite at the
hotel in Deia.'

As part of the refurbishment of Marcus's house they had expanded
Marcus's already large bedroom to include a new dressing room made from
one of the smaller bedrooms, plus a huge and very luxurious en suite
bathroom which combined the best of modern, clean bathroom lines-all
chrome and limestone and marble-with the sensual luxury of a large
semi-sunken bath along with a separate wet room area and, of course,
plenty of mirrors.

'Mrs Crabtree said that she would leave us a cold supper, and there is
some champagne on ice downstairs. Don't run away while I go and get it.'

'Run away? Marcus, have you seen how narrow this skirt is? I can't run
anywhere in it. In fact, I can barely walk.'

He wasn't gone very long-just long enough for her to glance round their
bedroom and admire the clean fresh lines of its new decor.

142

'Here you are,' he told her, handing her a glass of the champagne he had
just poured.

'I'm not sure that I should.' Lucy demurred, remembering Great-Aunt
Alice's birthday party.

'I am-you most definitely should. To us,' Marco toasted her firmly.

'To us,' Lucy whispered back, shivering with delight as Marcus leaned
forward and kissed her. She could taste the champagne on his mouth, and
somehow that gave an added intimacy to their kiss.

As he released her she took another sip of her champagne, and then put
the glass down. She was far too excited to need any champagne-induced
euphoria.

Marcus had removed his jacket and pulled off his cravat.

'When I watched you coming down the aisle to me today. Lucy, I thought I
had never seen you looking more beautiful.'

'Oh, Marcus!' Lucy bit her lip, determined not to let him know that she
would have rather have heard him say that he loved her.

He kissed her again, more passionately this time, and then said thickly.
'Now, exactly where do I start with this dress?'

'I'll take the jacket off first, shall I?' Lucy suggested. 'Ma wants to
keep the lace and have some of it sewn on a christening robe for us, so
I daren't damage it." She blushed again as she saw the look in Marcus's
eyes.

'The skirt is Velcroed to the bodice, so it might be an idea to unfasten
the buttons on it first and then I can just step out of it. The bodice
is a sort of corset thing as well, you see.'

She was babbling, Lucy recognised, and all because of how she felt at
the thought of conceiving Marcus's child-and she did not know yet
whether or not she had already done so this month!

Marcus had moved behind her and was slowly unfastening the two dozen
tiny buttons closing her skirt and train.

When he had eventually completed his task, and unhooked the skirt and
train from the low-waisted corset-like bodice of her gown, she was left
standing there in high heels, cream silk stockings fastened to a
suspender belt that matched her gown, and a tiny pair of knickers.

'I know it all looks a bit obvious,' she told him, gesturing towards her
body. 'But it wasn't my idea...' His face, she noticed, was slightly
flushed-from bending down to gather up some of the rose petals that had
fallen inside her gown?

But he didn't make any response to her slightly nervous comment.

Instead he dropped down on one knee in front of her and started to kiss
his way around the bare flesh at top of her stocking, pausing to slowly
unclip her suspenders and then roll the fine silk down her leg,
following it with the caress of his lips.

When he lifted her foot free of her shoe and then slid off her stocking,
holding her foot firmly and then kissing her instep, Lucy exhaled
tremulously in delirious lust.

The other stocking and her suspender belt were removed equally
sensually.

'Mmm...pretty. Very nice,' he commented. 'But not as nice as this.' And
then, while his hands held the top of her

144

legs,.

Lucy moaned out aloud and buried her fingers in his hair as shuddering
waves of pleasure gripped her.

'Who needs champagne when they can have nectar?' Marcus told her
thickly, after his tongue had stroked her to a sweetly urgent climax.

It had still been light when they had arrived at the house, but by the
time they finally made it onto the big bed it was quite definitely
dark-and she was quite definitely eagerly willing to consummate their
marriage. He thrust slowly and deeply into her and her muscles closed
lovingly round him, her body making him its prisoner-just as he had made
her love his.

Tired?*

"Just a bit,' Lucy admitted, as they stepped out of their taxi and into
the cool haven of Mustique's Sugar House Hotel.

The long flight from England in November to the warmth of the Caribbean,
on top of yesterday's wedding and the long night of passion they had
shared, had left her feeling slightly weary, Lucy acknowledged. Weary
and disappointed-because nothing had changed-because Marcus, although a
wonderfully sensual lover, did not love her.

Mustique was somewhere she had never previously visited, and she had
been delighted, if somewhat surprised, that Marcus had chosen such a
romantic venue for their honeymoon. A tropical darkness had already
descended on the island in the short time since their plane had landed.
and a handful of guests drifted through the foyer in a very

relaxed manner as Marcus signed them in and waited for their room keys.

'Mrs Carring?'

'She means you,' Marcus told Lucy wryly as a smiling girl approached Lucy.

Blushing slightly, Lucy returned her smile.

'We have a complimentary gift pack of vouchers for you, for treatments
at our spa facility.' As Lucy thanked her and took the envelope, the
girl added, her smile deepening, 'I can recommend our couples massage,
which is a massage that is given to you both at the same time in the
privacy of your own room.'

'If all the girls are as pretty as she was, then no way are you going to
be having a complimentary massage,' Lucy informed Marcus pithily ten
minutes later, when they were alone in their suite.

'Aha-now you sound like a wife,' Marcus told her. 'Are you hungry? Would
you like to eat now, or later? The hotel provides an unpacking and
pressing service...'

'I'd like a shower. But more than anything else I'd love-"

"Some coffee,' Marcus finished for her. 'I'll order it for you, shall I?
And perhaps we can have an exploratory walk whilst they unpack for us?'

'Mmm. Oh, Marcus, come and look at this,' Lucy exclaimed, 'it's a pillow
menu. You can choose your own pillow.'

Ten minutes later they were walking hand in hand through the Great Room
of the hotel. Built around an old coral warehouse and a sugar null, the
hotel had been refurbished recently to a wonderful standard of luxury.

Their own master suite in the main hotel was furnished in the style of
the eighteenth century- the bed hung with voile, the furniture elegantly
styled and painted a soft,

146

rubbed off-white. A large freestanding double-ended hip-shaped bath and
a private plunge pool added to the romantic luxury, and as they explored
the gardens and stopped to admire the beach that lay beyond Lucy could
well understand why this luxurious hotel was so very prestigious, and so
loved by its guests. By the time they returned to their suite, via the
privacy of the night-cloaked gardens and several impromptu stops to
exchange kisses, their cases had been unpacked for them.

'Perhaps just a Room Service meal tonight?' Lucy suggested, stifling a
small yawn.

'Good idea,' Marcus agreed.

'Oh, Marcus, this is brilliant...' Lucy sighed happily as she leaned
back against him in their plunge pool, her body between his spread legs,
her head pressed against his chest, with his arms wrapped around her and
his hands cupping her naked breasts.

'Mmm, absolutely,' he agreed, nuzzling the sensitive spot just below her
ear and making her shudder so hard that the water shuddered with her.

'You don't think anyone can see us, do you?' she whispered to him
several seconds later, as they lay naked together in the water and
Marcus teased her eagerly expectant body with all the touches he knew it
loved.

'No...but we can go inside, if you want.'

'No, I like it here,' Lucy told him. 'There's something so nice about
lying naked in the water and the sun.'

'Mmm, something very nice,' Marcus agreed, as he took advantage of her
nudity to enjoy unlimited access to her body whilst encouraging her to
do the same with his.

She had woken up this morning to Marcus stroking teasing fingers against
her breast whilst feathering kisses on her closed eyelids, and they had
gone from there on a slow journey offoreplay that had ended up with her
abandoning herself willingly and completely to his thrusting possession.
Now, scarcely a couple of hours later, her desire for him was already an
urgent clamouring force.

Marcus watched whilst she focused on his pleasure, wondering if she knew
just how much of her was attributable not to what she was doing but to
the look of erotic delight in her eyes as she did so. Even her own body
was registering its pleasure in what &he was doing, her nipples
lightening and her breasts lifting slightly. .

'Marcus, we can't-not here." Lucy protested as he reached for her. but
it was too late, and then lifted
his hand to place it over her mouth when she screamed out in wild
ecstasy before sinking down on top of him in quivering release.

*I can't believe we're on our way home,' Lucy sighed, as they left the
small plane which had brought them from Mustique.

'We've got a few hours yet before we pick up our connecting flight for
London. Is there anything you want to do?'

Lucy shook her head. 'I'll go and get myself some magazines and a book.'

148

'I've got couple of calls to make, so I'll go and order you some coffee,
shall I?' Marcus offered.

'Mmm-please.' Lucy thanked him. Lucy was standing in the queue waiting
to pay for her purchases when she saw him. The blood drained out of her
face and she whispered, horrified, 'Nick!'

And, even though she knew he could not possibly have heard her, he
turned his head and looked straight at her, abandoning the woman he was
with to come over to her.

Immediately she shrank back from him, not wanting him anywhere near her.

'Well, well-if it isn't my ex-wife. Here on your own, are you?' he
taunted her.

'No, actually, I'm with Marcus,' Lucy told him coldly. She badly wanted
to ignore him, but he was standing right next to her now, and unless she
abandoned the books she was holding and walked away she would have to
stay where she was in the queue.

'Carring?'

She could see that Nick wasn't at all pleased-that in fact he looked
distinctly put out.

'Yes, Marcus,' Lucy repeated. 'He and I are married now.' She couldn't
resist the small happy boast.

'He married you?' Nick demanded sharply. 'How on earth did you persuade
him to do that? Pregnant, are you? I thought he'd dump you the moment he
saw the little wedding present Andrew and I sent him. Perhaps he has his
own reasons for going ahead, does he? But if he thinks he'll force
Andrew into paying more for Pret a Party, then-'

'You sent those photographs?' Lucy cut him off, white-faced.

'Mmm...good, weren't they?' he mocked her. 'Especially that one of you
smiling like you were really having a good time.'

She mustn't let him see how shocked and upset she was, Lucy decided
frantically. Nor must she let him guess how frightened it made her feel
to know that he was working with Andrew Walker, and that the two of them
had tried to destroy her marriage before it had even begun.

She felt as though she was being subjected to a sensation not unlike the
centre of gravity beneath her feet physically shifting, as though there
had been a minor earth tremor. It scared her sick to recognise how far
Andrew Walker was prepared to go to get Pret a Party.

'You really should have accepted Andrew's offer, Lucy,' Nick was telling
her. 'He isn't at all pleased with you, you know. He wants Pret a Party,
and believe me he will get it-one way or another."

Several equally horrible suspicions were thrusting into her awareness
like ice picks.

'How do you know Andrew Walker?' she demanded.

'What's that got to do with you? Let's just say that I do know him, and
that I recommended to him that he look into investing in Pret a Party,"
Nick boasted. 'It's perfect for his needs.'

'Those needs being laundering money stolen from refugees who live in
fear of him, you mean?' Lucy challenged Nick furiously.

'My, my-we have been nosey, haven't we? Be careful that nose of yours
doesn't get chopped off for being stuck into places it has no right to
be, Lucy. And think about this: you had already agreed verbally to a
partnership with Andrew, so you are just as involved in what goes on as
the rest of us.'

'No. We only discussed a partnership-and then I didn't know the truth.'

150

'But can you prove that?' Nick taunted her, 'I'm sure Andrew would be
able to prove that you did if he felt he needed to. He means to have
Pret a Party, Lucy, and he wants it without Carring being involved in
it. Andrew will get what he wants. He always does.'

She was beginning to feel sick again, and she knew she couldn't bear
another minute of Nick's company. He made her feel so vulnerable and
afraid. But she must not let him, she told herself.

Where was Lucy? Marcus left the coffee shop and went to look for her.

It was easy for him to pick her out from amongst the other
travellers-and easy, too, for him to recognise the man standing so close
to her, obviously engaged in a very intimate conversation with her.

Nick Blayne. What the hell...?

He could feel the anger sheeting though him. Lucy was his now. Marcus
started to move towards them, but at that moment Lucy put down the books
she was holding and started to walk away from Nick, heading for the
coffee shop. When Marcus looked away from her, to where Nick Blayne had
been, the other man had disappeared.

He caught up with Lucy just as she reached the coffee shop. She looked
shocked and very distressed,

'What's happened?' he demanded tersely. So tersely that Lucy almost
shrank from him. 'You look as though you've seen a ghost.'

Or an ex-husband.

'I'm just hot and tired, that's all.' Lucy could barely think straight,
never mind speak, because of her own panic and fear. Nick knew Andrew
Walker. Nick had told Andrew Walker about her and Pret a Party. Nick and
Andrew Walker were responsible for those photographs,

that video. Andrew Walker had wanted to stop Marcus marrying her because
he wanted Pret a Party.

She hadn't said a word about seeing Blayne. Had he told her that he was
free again? Was she wishing that she were too? Had they made
arrangements to meet up somewhere-in London, for instance? They had
certainly had time.

'That's our flight they've just called,' Marcus announced.

'Marcus...' Lucy desperately wanted to tell him what had happened, to
appeal to him for help.

'Yes.'

She bit her lip. 'Nothing.' How could she involve him? How could she
tell him what a fool she had been? How could she tell him about the
seedy and immoral nature of what she had so nearly become involved in?
And what if, because of her foolishness, those dark forces and
everything that went with them should seep into their own lives? Into
Marcus's business life? Marcus was a man of honour and probity-Marcus
was the total opposite of the Andrew Walkers of this world.

She felt sick and shaky, and so very, very afraid.

'Lucy. What a naughty girl you've been, not returning my calls.'

Lucy tried to stand up, but Andrew Walker had placed a hard hand on her
shoulder, pushing her back into her chair. How had he got into the
office? She had locked the door. She always locked the door when she had
to be here now.

He waved a key under her nose, as though he had guessed what she was
thinking.

'How fortunate that Nick remembered he had a spare

152

II

key to the office here. He's back in London, by the way. Has he been in
touch with you yet?'

Lucy didn't speak. She didn't trust herself to do so.

'Nick very much wants to see you,' he continued. 'In fact he has told me
in confidence how much he regrets the break-up of your marriage. I must
say that it is a pity he is no longer involved in Pret a Party.'

He released her shoulder and pulled up a chair, straddling it to sit in
front of her, blocking her pathway to the door-which she suspected he
had probably locked anyway.

'Now, about Pret a Party, Lucy.'

'I'm closing Pret a Party down,' Lucy told him immediately. All she had
been able to think about since their return from honeymoon had been how
to solve the problem she had unwittingly brought on herself. In the end
she had decided that the best way was simply to make sure that Pret a
Party no longer existed. 'You'll have to look for something else.'

'Oh, no. I'm afraid we can't allow you to do that. You see, Pret a Party
is just so perfect for our needs. It really was very foolish of Nick to
give up his involvement in it, and of course he knows that himself now.
Indeed, it strikes me that he may very well have a claim on
re-establishing his role in Pret a Party-after all, there was never any
formal cessation of the contract between you, was there?'

'Nick left me.'

'A mistake he now regrets,' Andrew Walker told her smoothly.

'I won't be dragged into what you're doing, and I shall-'

He was shaking his head.

'Lucy, I don't think you properly understand. We want Pret a Party, and
we want you as well. After all, without

you it isn't very much use to us, you know. It's your name that makes it
what it is.'

'No. I won't agree-and you can't make me.'

'Oh, dear. I'm afraid I am going to have to disillusion you there. We
very much can make you. How do you feel about your husband, Lucy? Do you
love him? You wouldn't want to see him hurt, would you? And he could be
hurt-very badly hurt, too-if you don't do what we want.'

'You're just saying that,' Lucy protested. 'You're just trying to
frighten me and threaten me-'

'Where is Marcus at the moment, Lucy? Do you know?'

Stubbornly she refused to answer him. Andrew Walker sighed gently.

'He's in Leeds, isn't he? Why don't you telephone him? You know his
mobile number, don't you?'

'He's gone to see a client,' Lucy told him stiffly. 'I don't want to
disturb him.'

'He may have gone to Leeds to see a client, but unfortunately he didn't
make the appointment. He's had a small...accident, you see.'

He saw her expression and laughed.

'I'm going to be very generous to you, Lucy. I'm going now, and I'm
going to give you twenty-four hours to think things over. You're a
sensible woman, and I'm sure you're going to realise very quickly that
it's in your own interests to accept what we're offering you. See you
tomorrow- same place, same time.'

Andrew Walker had gone, leaving only the smell of his aftershave behind
to mingle with the scent of her own fear.

155

Lucy felt sick. She was struggling to breathe properly. Her fingers
trembled so much as she reached for the telephone to ring Marcus that it
took her several attempts to do so.

When the call rang out unanswered she panicked, and then tried to
reassure herself that he had simply put his calls on divert. But then,
shockingly, she heard a strange male voice demanding, 'Who is it?'

Automatically she checked the number she had dialled, just in case it
was wrong. It wasn't.

'I want to speak to Marcus-my husband.'

'Ai want to speak to Marcus-mai 'usband.' The man mimicked her cruelly.
'Well, there ain't no Marcus 'ere.'

'But you've got his mobile! How-? Where-?'

To her dismay the line went dead-and remained dead even though she tried
over and over again to get her call answered.

Marcus's mobile had obviously been stolen-but that didn't mean anything
had happened to Marcus himself, she tried to reassure herself. Mobile
phones went missing all the time.

Even so... Frantically she rang the bank and asked to be put through to
Marcus's PA, demanding to know who exactly Marcus had been going to see
and how she could get in touch with her husband.

'Have you tried his mobile?' Jerome asked her.

'Yes, but...but a stranger answered. Jerome, I think it may have been
stolen, and I'm worried about Marcus.'

'Calm down.' He immediately soothed her. 'I'm sure

there's a perfectly reasonable explanation. I'll get in touch with the
client and then I'll ring you back.'

Five minutes crawled by, agonisingly slowly, and then another five. And
then Lucy couldn't bear to wait any more.

This time she dialled Jerome's number direct, only to find that his line
was busy. Because he was trying to get in touch with her? Immediately
Lucy hung up, and curled herself into a small tight ball of anguished
fear. If anything had happened to Marcus then it was her fault. Because
of her and Pret a Party...because of her marriage to Nick...

Her telephone started to ring. She stared at it for several seconds,
almost too afraid to answer it, then frantically reached for the
receiver, clutching it when she heard Jerome's voice saying sharply, 'Lucy?'

'Yes, it's me. Have you spoken to Marcus?'

'Yes...'

. There was a note in his voice that immediately set alarm bells ringing
in her head. ". 'What is it? Where is he?' she demanded fiercely.

'There's been a bit of an incident, but he's all right, Lucy-'

'What do you mean? What kind of incident? Jerome, where is he?'

'Leeds General Hospital.'

'What! Why? What's happened to him? I'm going to see him. I-'

'Lucy, calm down. Marcus is fine. He told me to tell you that he'll be
home tomorrow, as planned.'

'I want to speak to him! I want to see him...'

She could hear Jerome exhaling.

'I'm afraid that you can't, Lucy. Not right now. Marcus is in
Casualty-no, it's all right, there's nothing seriously wrong with
him-just a few bruises and scratches.

 
 

 
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افتراضي Chapter Nine
 

Chapter Nine


Although from the sound of it, it could have been much worse if the crew
of a cruising police car hadn't spotted what was happening and scared
off the young thugs who had set about him. However, the medics want to
check him over-just to be on the safe side.'

'Jerome, please... I want to know now exactly what happened,' Lucy
demanded, as she fought back the fear his words had caused her and tried
to think and speak coherently.

'Marcus was mugged by a group of youths--Eastern Europeans, he thinks.
According to the police they might be illegal immigrants, but since they
weren't able to apprehend any of them they can't confirm that. They were
obviously after his wallet and his mobile-both of which they took, along
with his watch. And of course Marcus, being Marcus, didn't make it easy
for them. Fortunately the police arrived before things got too out of
hand. Marcus said explicitly that I was to tell you not to worry and
that he will ring you as soon as he can. Like I said, he's in Casualty
at the moment, being patched up.'

'I'm going to Leeds right now to see him,' Lucy told the PA.

"No, Lucy,' Jerome said firmly. 'Marcus anticipated that you would say
that, and he told me to tell you there's no need. He'll be back tomorrow
evening, as planned.'

Please let this not be happening, Lucy prayed after she had replaced the
telephone receiver. Please let it all be only a horrible nightmare that
isn't really happening at all.

But it was happening-and it was happening because of her. Marcus had
been attacked and robbed simply because he was married to her.

She was too distraught to cry, too filled with fear for Marcus to do
anything other than stay where she was, unable to so much as move, as
she focused on waiting to hear his voice.

Not even the familiar dull ache that told her she had again not
conceived his child could break through that anxiety.

The seconds and then the minutes ticked by-half an hour-an hour-an hour
and a quarter-and then the phone rang.

Lucy snatched up the receiver, 'Marcus?'

'Yes, it's me.'

The relief of hearing his voice totally overwhelmed her. She was shaking
so much with reaction she could hardly speak.

'What happened? Are you all right? I want to come to Leeds.'

'I was mugged, I'm fine, and there's no point in you coming to Leeds.
I'll be back tomorrow evening,'

'Where are you? The hospital?'

'I'm in a taxi on the way to see my client. The hospital have given me a
clean bill of health, and apart from a bit of bruising I'm okay. Stop
worrying, Lucy. Things like this happen all the time, so let's not make
an unnecessary drama out of it, shall we?'

She could hear the impatience in his voice. She tried to breathe deeply,
and gulped in air on a shuddering intake of breath that almost choked her.

'Look, I've got to go,' she could hear Marcus saying. 'I'm using a
temporary pay-as-you-go mobile-all I've had time to get. I'll ring you
tonight.'

'Promise me that you really are all right,' Lucy demanded emotionally.

'I really am all right,' Marcus assured her calmly.

158

This time it wasn't shock with which she reacted to Andrew Walker's
appearance in her office, but instead a blend of sick despair and
exhaustion.

She had been awake all night, worrying and thinking, and it showed in
Lucy's face as she turned to face her tormentor.

"I do hope you've given some serious thought to what I said to you
yesterday, Lucy,' he told her smoothly. 'But just in case you didn't
take me seriously, I've brought along a few photographs for you to look
at.' Lucy flinched as he leaned over her and laid them out neatly on her
desk. They were slightly out of focus, as though they had been taken in
a hurry and not by an expert, but they were still plain enough to send a
shock of sick recoil hammering through her body.

Marcus being punched and then kicked as he lay on the ground surrounded
by his four assailants.

Lucy only just managed not to cry out as she saw from one photograph a
boot being aimed at his face, and then in another the murderous gleam of
sunlight on a sharp knife.

This time Marcus was lucky. The police arrived in time to stop him from
suffering anything more than a few cuts and bruises. Next time he won't
be so lucky, Lucy. And there will be a next time.'

Very deliberately he reached into his pocket and withdrew a mobile
phone-Marcus's phone, Lucy realised, as a sick, sweating trembling took
hold of her.

'This time all I asked for was his telephone as proof that my orders had
been carried out, but next time-'

'Stop it,' Lucy implored him. 'You can't get away with this. The police
will catch the men responsible...'

Andrew Walker laughed.

'No way. Those gutter vermin know exactly how to

slink away into their sewers, and they know what will happen to them if
they dare to betray me. One word to the authorities and they'll be
deported-if they live that long.' Lucy shuddered. She couldn't doubt any
more that his threats were real-and enforceable. She had to do something
to protect Marcus, and she knew there was only one thing she could do.
Tears filled her eyes. The only thing

* she could do was the one thing she most wanted not to have to. But she
had no choice. Marcus's safety was more important to her than her own
happiness.

'It's up to you, Lucy,' Andrew Walker was telling her, with horrible
fake affability. 'A partnership with you and

Pret a Party and Carring remains perfectly safe...'

Lucy managed a small uncaring shrug. She had gone

Cover and over this so many times last night. She knew exactly what she
had to do to save Marcus. She could save Marcus-but she couldn't save
her marriage as well. Hot tears burned her throat raw, but she refused
to think about her own despair.

'You can't blackmail me through Marcus,' she told him dismissively. 'I
don't want him hurt, naturally, but frankly I wish I'd never married
him. I knew it was a mistake the moment I saw Nick again.'

-, Well, that much was true. But not in the way she was implying to
Andrew Walker.

": The reason she had known her marriage to Marcus was a mistake was
because Nick had revealed to her the danger she had put Marcus in-and
Andrew Walker was underlining that right now.

She could see Andrew Walker was frowning, and sensed that he did not
believe her. Panic twisted her insides. Very

Well, then, she would just have to make sure that she convinced him.

'I realised when I saw Nick at the airport that it was

160

him I loved,' she lied. 'I've told Marcus that, and I've told him I want
a separation.'

Andrew Walker still wore a frown.

'Well, this is a surprise. And one that I am sure will delight Nick?if
it is true.'

'It is true. But I doubt that it will delight Nick. Why should it? He
doesn't love me,' Lucy told him.

That much was true. Nick wasn't capable of loving anyone other than himself.

'Nonsense. He adores you.'

'I don't want to talk about Nick,' Lucy told him. 'Ultimately, of
course, I shall divorce Marcus, but in the meantime I shall probably
leave the country and go and live somewhere else.'

'Isn't that all very hasty and unnecessary?' Andrew Walker cautioned
her. 'I must admit that you have surprised me-if you're telling me the
truth.'

'Why should I lie?' Lucy challenged him, hoping it wasn't as obvious to
him as it was to her. 'I don't love Marcus. I don't want him hurt,
particularly, but I don't want to be involved in what you're planning
for Pret a Party-and nothing you do to Marcus will change that.' she
told Andrew Walker shakily. 'Because I won't be.'

'Why don't you wait until you've spoken to Nick before you come to a
decision about that. Lucy?'

Andrew Walker was smiling almost paternally at her now.

Speak to Nick? She'd rather die! Maybe she would even die... But Andrew
Walker had already told her that they needed her name for Pret a Party,
which meant they needed her alive. But not Marcus. They didn't need
Marcus to be alive. Marcus...

'McVicar rang me this afternoon, whilst I was on my way back from Leeds.
He told me that you've been in touch with him to ask if Blayne could
still be considered an employee in Pret a Party since he did not sign a
termination agreement,' Marcus announced coolly.

Were you hoping that he was still involved, Lucy? When I saw you with
him at the airport, was that a chance meeting or a planned one? Do you
want him as a partner in your bed? Instead of me?

No, that was nonsense. Okay, so after the fuss she had made over the
telephone he was surprised that Lucy was behaving so distantly to him
now that he was home, but he wasn't really going to let himself think he
was actually disappointed by her lack of reaction to his return, was he?
And he certainly wasn't going to allow himself to think that her
coolness towards him hurt.

Coffee spilled from the mug Lucy was holding onto the new limestone
kitchen floor. Her heart was jerking in uncomfortable, uncoordinated,
irregular beats that were making her feel nauseous.

'I simply wanted to know what the situation was,' she defended herself.

'Why didn't you ask me?'

'You're my husband, not my solicitor,' She couldn't bear the sight of
the bruises on Marcus's face, and was ; terrified of breaking down in
front of him and telling him what was going on.

Mr McVicar had assured her that there was no way Nick could claim to
have any ongoing involvement in Pret a Party, but she still felt
desperately afraid and worried. For herself, but most of all for Marcus.

'Has it been decided what we're doing for Christmas yet?' he asked,
deliberately changing the subject.

'I spoke to my mother yesterday morning. She's spoken

162

to your mother, and to Beatrice, and Beatrice has suggested that we all
get together.'

'Where-not in this wretched castle she wants to hire for George's
birthday, I trust?'

When once she would have laughed, now Lucy could only manage the
paltriest of wan smiles, Marcus noticed bitterly.

Why? Because secretly she was thinking she wanted to spend her Christmas
with Blayne? The pain that thought caused him was almost beyond bearing.
Where had it come from and what did it mean?

She still hadn't said a word to him about seeing Blayne, and Marcus
wondered how much contact there had been between them since then.

'No.' Lucy gave him a rueful look. 'Mother is talking about us all going
to Framlingdene and staying there.'

Framlingdene was the National Trust Property that had originally been
the country seat of Lucy's father's family. The family had retained the
right to use a suite of rooms there.

'Will there be enough room for all of us?'

'No, not really. I think it would be better if we simply stayed here in
London. We normally have a big family party at Great-Aunt Alice's on
Boxing Day, since she's got the space, and I imagine we could all have
dinner there quite easily.'

'Well, it certainly makes more sense than driving up to Yorkshire.
Lucy-is something wrong?'

His question shocked and surprised Marcus almost as much as it obviously
did Lucy. Since when had he wanted to talk about emotions?

Lucy's colour came and went whilst she struggled between truth and
fear-and love.

In the end, love won out.

'No, of course not. Why should there be?"

'No particular reason-other than that you don't exactly look like a
glowing newly married,' Marcus heard himself saying curtly.

"Glowing newly marrieds are normally glowing because they are in love
with one another,' Lucy told him lightly. 'And we aren't.'

She would have to tell him soon that she wanted to end their marriage.
Soon, but not yet. Please, just let her have a little more time with
him. One birthday, one Christmas...she would tell him before the New
Year, she promised herself.

Lucy hesitated outside the jeweller's. It was Marcus's birthday today,
and tonight they were going out for dinner with his family. She had
already bought him a new silk tie, and she certainly couldn't afford to
buy him one of the expensive watches displayed in the window in front her.

Besides, he would replace his stolen Roles himself in due course. It had
been insured.

Even so... There was a discreet sign in the window saying that they also
sold good quality 'previous owner" watches.

She could always go in and enquire.

Half an hour later she was back on the pavement outside the shop,
huddling into her coat to protect herself from the icy blast of the
wind, the Rolex watch on which she had just spent virtually every penny
she had in her bank account safely tucked in her handbag.

It was exactly the same model as the watch Marcus had had stolen, and
she was thrilled to be able to give it to him for his birthday. Would he
keep it for ever? Even after they were divorced? The pain caught her
breath and held her immobile in its grip.

164

They were going for dinner at the Carlton Towers-mainly because in
Marcus's opinion they served the best steak in London.

Marcus arrived home just as Lucy stepped out of the shower. By the time
he had reached the bedroom she had wrapped herself in a towel and was
seated on their bed, his watch carefully gift wrapped beside her.

'What's this?' he demanded as she handed it to him.

'Your birthday present.'

'I thought I had that this morning.'

'Your tie? Yes, I know. But this is something extra,' Lucy told him huskily.

She was beginning to have an effect on him that wasn't what he had
planned, Marcus acknowledged as he sat down beside her and unwrapped his
present.

He wasn't sure what he had been expecting. But when he removed the paper
and saw the familiar Rolex box he was surprised.

'It isn't new, I'm afraid. I couldn't... But it's just like the one you
lost.'

It wasn't--not quite-because the one he had lost had originally belonged
to his father. But he didn't tell her that. Instead he put the watch on
without a word, and then took hold of her and kissed her fiercely.

It seemed to have been such a long time since he had kissed her like
this-even though in reality they had only been back from their honeymoon
a fortnight. And if he had not made love to her as passionately since
their return then that was very probably down to the fact that she had
not encouraged him to do so. Lucy had that brief thought, and then she
stopped thinking about anything as he rolled her down onto the bed
beneath him and kept on kissing her.

Yearningly Lucy kissed him back. She loved him so very much...

'You two are late. What kept you?' Lucy's mother asked, when Lucy and
Marcus hurried into the restaurant of the Carlton Towers hotel.

Automatically Lucy looked at Marcus. Thank goodness it was too dark in
here for anyone else to notice the look Marcus was giving her.

'Marcus, you've got your watch back.' Beatrice announced halfway through
dinner.

'Actually, no. Lucy gave me this for my birthday.'

Again he looked at her, and this time Lucy suspected that Beatrice had
seen the gleam in his eyes, and had guessed exactly what the giving of
the gift had led to, because she suddenly grinned and said quietly to
Lucy, 'Aha-now I think I know why we weren't the last to arrive for
once. I thought it was unlike my normally prompt brother to be late.'

It was gone midnight when they finally got home.

'Only another three weeks to Christmas,' Lucy said sleepily.

"Mmra. Early in the New Year would be a good time for us to start
looking for that country house we've been thinking about, I suspect.'

Lucy's heart missed a beat. Early in the New Year their marriage would
be as good as over, thanks to Nick and Andrew Walker.

'What's wrong?' Marcus asked her sharply.

'Nothing. What makes you think there is?'

'Oh, I don't know. Maybe the fact that the emotional temperature has
just dropped by ten degrees might have something to do with it,' Marcus
responded, his voice every bit as cool. 'Something's on your mind. Lucy.'

'Nothing is on my mind. I'm just tired, that's all,' she lied.

166

'I want to get this business of Pret a Party's debts sorted out before
the New Year,' Marcus announced. 'I think we should go and see McVicar
together and-'

'No!'

'Why not?'

'I've already told you. Pret a Party is my business and I want to keep
it that way. And-and I don't want to be bullied into doing something I
don't want to do!'

Marcus didn't say a word. He didn't need to. The look he gave her said
it all.

Lucy wanted to plead with him to understand, but how could she do that?
Dorland had not been joking when he had said to her that Andrew Walker
was a bad man. People's happiness, people's lives meant nothing to him,
or to those he worked for; she knew that. Ending her marriage to Marcus
was the only way she had of protecting him. It was like...it was like
performing an amputation to save a person's life, she told herself. But
whilst Marcus would survive that amputation, and probably go on to make
a perfectly happy life for himself without her in it, she knew that
losing him would leave her bereft for the rest of her life.

Only a week now and it would be Christmas. All the Knightsbridge shops
and of course the big stores--Harrods and Harvey Nicks-had been
flaunting their Christmas finery for weeks. Lucy had done all her
shopping-her cards were posted, and her presents wrapped. Mrs Crabtree
had taken some extra holiday so that she could spend more time with her
daughter and her grandchildren, and Lucy had been enjoying showing off
her domesticity to Marcus via her cooking-even if he had turned the
tables on her by cooking for her last night.

He hadn't mentioned Pret a Party again, but there was a tension between
them that hurt her-though at the same time she was clinging to every
second of the time she had with him.

At least he was still making love to her-every night, in fact-with skill
and passion and determination. But not, of course, with love.

The doorbell rang as she was on her way through the hall. Automatically
she went to answer it, and then froze as she saw Nick standing on the steps.

She tried to close the door, but Nick pushed it open and stepped into
the hall, telling her sullenly, 'What are you doing? I thought you'd be
pleased to see me. Andrew said you would be when he told me to come round.'

Andrew Walker had sent him here? Why was she not surprised?

'Nick, you shouldn't have come here,' she protested. 'If Marcus saw you...'

'He isn't here, is he?'

'No, he's at work. But if he were here-'

'But he isn't,' Nick cut her off. His earlier sullenness had been
replaced by the slick, facile falsity of what Nick considered to be
charm and what she knew to be a shallow pretence of it.

'You know, Lucy, Andrew's right-we did rush into divorcing without
giving our marriage a proper chance. I admit that I was a bit
thoughtless, and selfish...'

Had Andrew Walker made him repeat those words until he had them off pat?
Lucy wondered cynically. They certainly didn't ring true, and neither
did they accord with the look of patronising conceit she could see in
Nick's eyes as he looked at her.

'I'm not surprised you regret marrying Carring. I suppose when you
compare him to me, you're bound to find

168

him wanting--especially in bed.' He smirked. 'Bed is my speciality,
after all-remember?'

Lucy longed to tell him that all she remembered of his so-called
speciality was how barren and empty it had been, in every single way,
but of course she could not do so.

'You were my first lover,' she told him quietly instead.

'Yeah, and I guess you took it for granted that all men would be as good
as me-right? Silly little Lucy.' He shook his head mock-playfully. 'But
never mind. Pretty soon you and I can start making up for lost time. In
fact...' He looked towards the stairs. 'Why don't we start right now,
eh? Why don't I take you upstairs and give you a very special Christmas
present?'

Lucy wanted to scream at him to leave before she was physically sick.
But if she caused him to think that she loved Marcus then she would be
putting Marcus in very great danger-and giving Andrew Walker something
to blackmail her with.

'Not here,' she demurred, trying to look regretful. 'Perhaps if I came
to you...' Never in a thousand years.

'Came to me? How about I make you come for me, Lucy? And it wouldn't
take long, would it? I can see in your eyes how much you want me. Come
on...'

Nick was reaching for her hand and pulling her towards him. She could
smell the too-strong scent of his cologne, overpoweringly unpleasant
after the familiarly of Marcus's cool freshness.

'Nick-no! I was just on my way out...to meet my mother,' she fibbed.

'Andrew told me to give you a message from him,' he told her, abruptly
releasing her. 'You told him that you planned to leave Carring, but
you're still living here with him.'

'I can't just walk out,' Lucy protested.

'No...' Nick gave a speculative look around the hallway. 'I dare say you
want to make sure you get a nice fat slice of his millions before you
leave, and I don't blame you for that.'

'Yes. That's...that's exactly what I'm planning to do,' Lucy agreed
untruthfully. 'And I can't meet up with Andrew at the moment, Nick.
Marcus might get suspicious. In fact he's already suspicious because I
won't let him become a partner in Pret a Party.'

'Well, Andrew's getting very impatient-and so are the men he represents.
Andrew said to tell you that if you don't get rid of Marcus voluntarily,
then he's going to have to make arrangements to do it for you. Oh, and
he said to tell you not to even think about telling Carring what's
happening, because that will be as good as signing his death warrant.'

Lucy had no idea how long it was since Nick had left. And she didn't
know either that her body was cramped and stiff from sitting on the
stairs, her arms locked tightly around her knees as though she were
trying to stanch a wound that would not stop bleeding. She did
know-vaguely- that it must have gone dark outside, because the hallway
was in darkness.

Dissociated thoughts and images jumbled together inside her head. The
first night she and Marcus had been to bed together; the fact that this
weekend they had planned to go and look for a Christmas tree-Lucy wanted
a real one and, although he had grimaced, Marcus had given in and
promised to take her out to get one. The espresso machine he had bought
her-the thrill it had given her the first time she had woken up beside
him here in this house, as his wife; the pleasure it gave her just to
look at him

170

and watch him and the pain it gave her too, as she stored every second
of time she had with him with the greed that only the deprived and
starving knew.

Soon now all that would be over. It had to be. Otherwise...

171

'What!'

'You heard me, Marcus,' Lucy repeated shakily. 'I want a divorce.'

She could see how shocked he was, how unbelieving and how white-faced
with anger, even in the soft lighting of their bedroom.

'We've only been married a month.'

He couldn't believe the intensity of the pain ripping him apart.

'I know. I've counted every day of it. Every hour,' Lucy told him
truthfully. 'It isn't working, Marcus. And I won't-I can't-stay in a
marriage that doesn't make me happy. I'll find somewhere to live, and
then we can start divorce proceedings...'

'No!'

Lucy looked up at him.

'I warned you when we married that I was making a lifetime commitment to
you, Lucy, and that I expected the same commitment back from you. There
won't be any divorce,' Marcus told her furiously.

He wasn't going to let her go. Not ever. She was his and he loved her.

He loved her? He loved Lucy?

But that wasn't possible. He had sworn years ago that he was not going
to allow himself to fall in love. It was as though there was a
vulnerable fault inside him, similar to those responsible for causing
earthquakes, and his emotions-those emotions he had buried and denied
and stubbornly

172

refused to acknowledge could exist--were causing so much pressure within
him that they simply could not be controlled.

Pain, grief, jealousy, and a determination never to let her go exploded
inside him with a subterranean force that sent a mighty surge of love
and need roaring through him crashing through every barrier he had
erected against them.

He loved Lucy!

His passionate refusal caused Lucy to waver between wild hope and
joy-and the stark, horrifying reality of what his refusal meant. She
hadn't expected this kind of reaction from him. She had expected him to
tell her to pack her things and leave straight away.

'All right, don't divorce me, then,' she told him, making herself scowl
and shrug, and keeping her voice cold and sharp. 'But you can't stop me
leaving you, Marcus, and that is exactly what I intend to do. So far as
I am concerned, our marriage is over.'

Marcus struggled to suppress an unfamiliar desire to break
something-because something inside him was breaking. His heart?

He had known ever since they had come back from honeymoon that Lucy
wasn't happy, and he had believed he knew why. But he had not known then
what his own feelings were. He did now! Why should he let Blayne take
her from him and ruin her life a second time? She was so much better off
with him-even if she was too besotted with her ex-husband to see that
herself. One day she would thank him for what he was doing; one day she
would come to realise, as he saw with such blinding clarity himself now,
that they were meant for one another. He wanted to reason with her, to
plead with her, but the unfamiliarity of dealing with such intense
emotions was too much for him-He could feel jealousy, burning too high
and too hot. It

burst out of him in a slew of bitter, angry words as he warned her savagely:

'Don't think I don't know what all this is about, Lucy. Because I do. I
know exactly what's been going on behind my back.'

Marcus knew? Her heart was hammering. He couldn't, could he?

'It's Blayne, isn't it?'

He heard her give a small, betraying gasp of shocked admission.

'I saw you with him at the airport.'

Marcus had seen that? And he thought...

'That was a coincidence!'

What else could she say? Lucy wondered, as she struggled to grasp what
Marcus was saying to her. Initially she had thought he meant he knew
about Pret a Party and Andrew Walker, but now she realised that Marcus
thought she wanted to end their marriage because she was still in love
with Nick. And wasn't it better that he should continue to think that,
rather than have him become suspicious and start to ask questions she
could not answer?

'A very unhappy coincidence-as I believe your common sense would tell
you if only you would let it,' Marcus was continuing bitterly. 'Surely
you can't have forgotten what he did to you?'

'It's different now,' Lucy told him. How true that was. 'He's changed.'
And how untrue that.

'He's changed? But have you, Lucy? Are you sure you really know what you
want? After all, in my bed you wanted me...'

'No!'

Yes. Yes...

'I thought I did, but I didn't. Not really.'

Yes, really-now and for ever. Only you and always you,

 
 

 
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كاتب الموضوع : نيارااا المنتدى : الارشيف
افتراضي Chapter Ten
 

Chapter Ten


Marcus. This is killing me, and I can't bear it. I love you so much.

'You're lying, and what's more I intend to prove it to you.'

Marcus could hardly believe what he was saying and doing. He was a man
out of control, driven mad by love.

He had reached for Lucy before she could stop him. dragging her against
his body whilst his mouth took and then savaged hers in a kiss of
furious male anger.


Downstairs, the Christmas tree they had bought at the weekend, and which
Lucy had spent all day yesterday dressing, shimmered in the window, its
lights twinkling softly with promise and hope. Upstairs, in the bedroom
above it, there was no promise and no hope. Only a man and a woman
locked together in an embrace devoid of both, and the savagery of
Marcus's anger.

Lucy felt Marcus's hands tugging at her clothes whilst she stood
motionless and numb with despair.

She heard the sound of fabric tearing as he wrenched a button from its
fastening, saw the dark burn of colour staining his skin as his hands
gripped the soft flesh of her bare arms.

'Have you been to bed with him since we've been married, Lucy? Have you?''

Please, God, let her say no,

'No.' At least there she could be honest.

'Not yet? But you intend to? Is that it?' Why was he torturing himself
like this?

Not ever. Never. Ever again. Not with anyone if it can't be with you, my
dearest, only love. 'Nick...'

'Stop it. I don't want to hear his name," Marcus told her thickly,
crushing his mouth over hers to silence the words he did not want to
hear in the only way he could.

Lucy trembled-not with cold, and not with fear either,

she recognised. Even though it would have been very easy to be afraid of
Marcus in this mood.

But how could she fear what she longed for so much? How could she fear
what she craved so desperately? One last time. One last memory. One last
sip from the chalice of bittersweet desire.

She could feel the edge of the bed behind her, she could feel, too,
Marcus pushing her down against it, his removal of her remaining clothes
and his own almost brutally efficient.

'I can make you want me, Lucy,' he warned her. 'And I shall do so.'

'No.'

Yes. Yes, Marcus, do it...do it now. Take me now. I want you.

He had never taken her like this before, in an angry passion that burned
and seared, but she was still responding to him. Her flesh, her
emotions. Her whole self was still welcoming and wanting him, ignoring
his dark rage, discarding it like the shell of something sweetly craved,
focusing instead on what lay within it, on what she wanted within it,
taking her, transforming her, holding her in thrall to it as her body
held him in thrall to her, if only for those few precious seconds out of
time.

'No!' The raw denial was dragged from his lungs to burst between the
sounds of their breathing, the bed moving.

What the hell was he doing? Sweat beaded Marcus's forehead as he fought
against the hot tide of his own rage, pushing it back heartbeat by
heartbeat, as he superimposed over his savage image of Lucy with Nick
Blayne a softer, gentler image of just Lucy herself.

He must not-would not give way to his furious bitter pain.

176

'Yes!'

She was not going to let him go now. Not when he had brought her so
close. Not when, within a heartbeat, she could take the base metal of
his anger and, like some fabled alchemist, turn it into the pure gold of
shared need and equally shared fulfilment. Lucy clung to him and refused
to let him go, holding him with her will and her muscles, mentally and
physically, as he tried to withdraw from her, moving with him, against
him, on to him, slowly and rhythmically, creating a physical tune that
soothed her aching need and stoked the sweet hot fires of his desire as
well as her own. In this she would have her way-and she would have him.
For now if not for ever, Lucy knew, as she tightened her muscles around
him and drew from him the response she needed him to give.

Marcus watched Lucy, broodingly aware of how thin and fragile she
looked, her face too fine-drawn and her neck so slender it looked almost
too delicate to support the drooping weight of her head.

He had reiterated to her that he would not divorce her, and he had
demanded from her too a commitment not to say anything about her desire
to end their marriage to any members of their families over Christmas.

'Have you forgotten that there could be a child?' he had demanded harshly.

'There won't be,' Lucy had told him. But she wasn't sure if that was
true. They had had sex since her last period after all.

Marcus had seen the tears bleeding from her eyes then, and he had seen
them there again on Christmas Eve, when they had gone to Midnight Mass
with her parents and his mother.

On Christmas Day they had joined Lucy's family for

lunch, and so had his mother, Lucy's great-aunt, and his sister Beatrice
and her family. Lucy had barely spoken or eaten, and Marcus had seen the
surreptitious looks all the other women had given her, obviously sharing
his own knowledge that she was too thin and too sad to be a happily
married new bride.

The Christmas presents they had bought one another still lay beneath the
tree unopened. He had declared that it was pointless for them to open
them, causing Lucy to run out of the room in tears.

He wanted so desperately to keep her with him; to take her by the hand
and make her look into the future; to see how happy they could be if
only she would accept his love and reject Blayne.

He loved her so damn much.

Did he? Surely if he loved her, really loved her. then happiness, her
desires, her tears, should matter more to him than his own?

They did, he insisted stubbornly. That was why...

That was why he was trying to force her to stay with him, was it? That
was the measure of his love for her, was it?

Blayne would destroy her, He would hurt her again and again; he was just
using her...

And he hadn't hurt her? He hadn't used her? He hadn't almost taken her
by force physically and he wasn't now trying to do so emotionally?

Lucy looked at Marcus.

. 'We ought to leave. You know what Great-Aunt Alice is like.'

They were due to attend her great-aunt's traditional Boxing Day family
get-together.

Lucy was wearing a soft velvet dress in a mossy green. It had lace cuffs
and she was wearing a little lacy cardigan

178

thing embroidered with pink rosebuds over it, Marcus noticed.

She looked wonderful-and heartbreakingly fragile.

'Lucy?'

He saw the apprehension in her eyes as she looked at him and he hated
himself. 'I've been thinking...'

He was going to say that he wanted them to try again, that he wanted
their marriage to continue, that she meant so much to him he could not
give her up. Bittersweet tears filled Lucy's eyes. If only she could go
to him and tell him how much those words meant...

Marcus took a deep breath. He had made up his mind and he wasn't going
to falter now. He had to prove his love to himself and to Lucy by
putting her needs first, by accepting that she must have free choice.

'You're right. It's pointless allowing our marriage to continue. As soon
as we get into the New Year I'll instruct my solicitor to start divorce
proceedings...'

Because I love you enough to let you go. Because that's what love is.
It's more than a person's own feelings-it's putting the one they love
first. And I do love you, my Lucy. So very-, very much.

He was going to divorce her!

Lucy's stomach churned and she felt acutely sick.

But this was what she wanted.

No, not what she wanted. This was what she had to have in order to
protect him.

'Lucy, you're shivering.'

'I'm cold,' she answered her mother truthfully.

'Cold? But it's lovely and warm in here. Are you all right?'

'I'm fine.'

I'm dying inside and I will never, ever be all right again. Marcus is
leaving me-for ever.

'Lucy!' Lucy managed to force a smile as Johnny came swaggering over,
bringing a pretty, shy-looking girl with him.

'Meet Tia. Tia-this is my cousin, Lucy. Want some champagne. Lucy?" he
offered, showing her the bottle he was holding.

Lucy shuddered sickly. She couldn't even drink coffee any more, she felt
so unwell, never mind champagne. And besides, champagne reminded her of
that first night she had spent with Marcus.

'Have you heard about Andrew Walker being the mastermind behind some
gang trafficking in immigrant workers?' Johnny asked, continuing
blithely without waiting for her to reply. 'Apparently the police have
been watching him for months, and now they've got the whole gang. They
were involved in all sorts of dodgy scams-money laundering,
prostitution, extortion. I'd no idea he was involved in that kind of
thing. Dessie Arlington told me. His father's a barrister, and he was
saying that the likelihood is that he'll probably end up spending the
rest of his life in prison, along with the rest of the gang-I say, Lucy?
Lucy!'

It was Marcus who caught her just before she hit the floor. Marcus too
who insisted tersely that nothing was wrong, she just hadn't been
feeling very well lately. But Lucy wasn't aware of that because she was
still in a dead faint.

When she came round, several seconds later, she was lying on her
great-aunt's parquet floor with Marcus crouched down beside her.

'It's all right, Lucy. You fainted, that's all.'

'Marcus, I feel sick,' she managed to whisper to him. 'Please don't
leave me.'

180

An hour later she was tucked up in one of her great-aunt's spare beds,
in a large chilly bedroom, while her own mother, Marcus's mother and
Beatrice all vied with one another to say excitedly that they had had
their suspicions but of course hadn't wanted to say so.

Lucy lay motionless in the cold bed, trying to come to terms with what
her great-aunt's doctor, summoned from his house around the corner, had
just told her.

A baby. She was having Marcus's baby. Why hadn't she guessed?

'Of course I was just the same,' Lucy heard her mother pronouncing.
'Just the same with both Lucy and Piers. So I had already guessed.'

'Well, I felt sure the moment I saw Lucy at Midnight Mass,' Marcus's
mother insisted, not to be outdone. 'She had that unmistakable look
about her.'

Lucy closed her eyes and let the tears seep out from under her eyelids.
She felt so tired, so shocked...and Johnny's comment about Andrew Walker
had-

Andrew Walker!

She struggled to sit up.

'Lucy, dear, do lie down.'

'Where's Marcus?' she demanded.

'Dr Holland said that you were to have a rest and that you must eat a
little more.

'A good nourishing soup is what she needs,'

'Chicken broth.'

'Oh, yes. Nanny always used to say that chicken broth cured anything.'

Miserably, Lucy closed her eyes and let sleep claim her. The next time
she woke up Marcus was seated beside the bed.

'Oh, Marcus...'

More tears. It must be her hormones. Marcus was holding one of her hands
with both of his own.

"Marcus, we're going to have a baby.'

'Yes, I know.'

Still more tears.

'How do you feel about it?' he asked her.

Lucy looked at him.

'I'm glad that I'm having your baby. How do you feel about it?'

'I feel that I want to take you in my arms and hold you there for ever,'
he told her simply. 'I love you.'

'Marcus!' Lucy stared at him in disbelief. Surely she must be imagining
she had just heard him say those words?

'You love me?' she said shakily. 'But...'

'Yes, I love you, Lucy. Even if I've been too much of a fool to
recognise what was happening to me, never mind admit it. I love you so
much. I want to beg you to let me show you how much. I know you'd rather
be with Blayne-'

'No! Never!' Lucy interrupted emphatically. 'I still can't believe that
you love me, Marcus. I knew you wanted me in bed...' Her face suddenly
turned pink. 'Nick might have said that I was sexless and boring because
I was a virgin, but you made me feel like a woman, Marcus.'

She looked longingly at him, and then said huskily, 'Oh, Marcus, I don't
want to divorce you-and I certainly don't want to be with Nick.' She
gave a small shudder. 'It gave me such a shock when I saw him at the
airport. I hoped that he hadn't seen me, but then he came over and he
said-' She broke off and bit her lip.

'I'm glad it's just you here with me,' she told him. 'I felt so tired
when our mothers and Beatrice were here. They all said that they had
guessed-but I hadn't. I thought I felt so sick all the time because..."

182

'Because of Andrew Walker?' Marcus prompted her.

'Oh, Marcus! I haven't told you... I haven't explained...'

'It's all right, Lucy. I know what's been going on. At least, I think I
do,' he told her gently. 'I've just been having a long talk with your
cousin Johnny, and he told me about how Walker asked him to introduce
you to him, and how he wanted to invest in Pret a Party.'

Is he really going to go to prison for a long time?'

'A very long time, according to George. It seems that the authorities
have known what he's been up to for a while, but they've had to wait to
get enough information together to convict him and the other members of
the gang.'

'George? What does he know about it? I thought he was a civil servant.'

'He is-he's a mandarin in the Home Office. That's the department
responsible for granting work visas and immigration documents,' he added
dryly.

Lucy gave him an old-fashioned look.

'I do know that. I'm not dumb. Marcus, I've been so scared. Andrew
Walker wanted Pret a Party so that he could use it to launder money and
give work to the illegal immigrants he was bringing into the country.
Nick was involved as well...' Lucy shuddered.

'Why didn't you tell me? Was it because you wanted to protect Blayne?'

Lucy shook her head. 'I don't care what happens to Nick,' she told him,
bluntly and truthfully. 'I should never have married him, Marcus. I only
did because...'

'Because what?'

'Because I loved you so much and you didn't want me, and I was scared
that I might do something silly, like burst into your office and beg you
to make love to me. I thought that if I had a husband it would make me
start behaving

like an adult and not like a teenager with a silly crush. And besides,
I'd felt such an idiot still being a virgin, because I didn't want to do
it with anyone else but you... Marcus?' she whispered shakily. 'You're
crying.'

'Lucy, Lucy." He was holding her tightly, his voice muffled against her
hair as he rocked her in his arms.

'Well, you wouldn't have liked me still being a virgin,' she told him
practically. 'Nick didn't. And marrying Nick didn't work at all-it just
made me want you even more. And when Nick didn't want to have sex with
me I was glad.'

'Lucy, why didn't you tell me about Walker?'

'It didn't seem important. Not at first. And then...then it was too
late. I didn't realise what he was involved In or what was going to
happen until Dorland told me-and even then I just thought that once I'd
told Andrew Walker I wasn't interested in a partnership with him... But
he wanted Pret a Party, and he told me that he wasn't going to let
anything or anyone stand in his way. Not even you...especially not you.

'He knew about Pret a Party before Johnny told him, too. Nick had told
him. When Nick saw me at the airport when we came back off honeymoon, he
told me that Andrew Walker and he had sent that video. Oh, Marcus. I was
so frightened.'

'And I saw you with Blayne and I thought...'

'I would have thought the same thing.' Lucy tried to comfort him when
she saw how angry with himself he looked.

'I thought you'd decided that you wanted him and not me,' Marcus told
her ruefully.

'No. Like I said, I never wanted him.'

'And you married him because of me,' Marcus couldn't stop himself from
saying bleakly.

184

'Yes, I did,' Lucy admitted. 'And that was a dreadful thing for me to
do, Marcus, because I was cheating on him just as he went on to cheat on
me. I knew I could never love Nick the way I do you when I married him.
I met Nick and he seemed to like me and I just thought... But it never
worked, and that was my fault. Because I never loved him. I just married
him because I didn't want to be a nuisance to you. And then I wanted to
protect you from Andrew Walker. He told me that he'd arranged for you to
be mugged in Leeds. He said that he would kill you unless I left you and
let him have a partnership in Pret a Party... Oh, don't* Marcus,' Lucy
protested as she saw the shine of emotion in his eyes. 'Please don't...'

'Lucy, I'm the one who is supposed to protect you. Not the other way
around. Oh, Lucy, Lucy, my sweet little love.'

'Your love?' Lucy repeated wonderingly.

'My love-my one and only and for ever love,' Marcus agreed tenderly.
'And before we go any further just let me tell you one thing. Regardless
of anything else-Andrew Walker, Nick Blayne, even our baby-I love you. I
know that now. And I know too that I always will love you. Nothing can
ever change that, and nothing will ever change that 'Oh, Marcus!'.'



EPILOGUE


One year later.

'So, Let me propose a toast, to my wife, Lucy, Business Woman of the
Year, mother of my son-and holder of my heart,' Marcus added in a lower,
deeper voice that only Lucy could hear as all around them everyone else
raised their glasses and cheered.

'I would never have had the courage to set up a new business if it
hadn't been for you, Marcus,' Lucy told him lovingly.

'Don't underestimate yourself, Lucy. You are an extremely talented
woman. Junior Pret a Party proves that.'

'I wonder what Andrew Walker would think if he knew how I'd used his
idea,' Lucy said mischievously. 'It had never occurred to me before he
suggested it to even think of franchising event hire, and yet really it
was so obvious. And with a baby of my own, I could see that there was a
real need for women to help one another organising children's parties
and christenings, and for passing on not just their expertise but also
practical things, like marquees, clothes, party costumes, everything. It
just makes so much sense for mothers to gather together and share the
cost of everything they need for parties and to plan them together in a
group. That way every child within that group gets the party they want
and every mother knows she has a team of supporters she can turn to.'

'And all for a very modest annual payment.'

'Well, it was a real brainwave of yours to ask Carry and

186

Ricardo to get involved, and Julia and Silas. With the charity funding
Ricardo and Silas give us, and the young people from Ricardo's
orphanages who we help to train as nursery and ancillary workers, we're
not just providing parties for children but we're providing education
and work as well.'

'Like I said you are a very clever woman,' Marcus repeated.

'I was certainly clever enough to fall in love with you.' Lucy agreed.

 
 

 
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