'I really have nothing to say --'
'You may not have, but I've got plenty. Wait just there.' He turned back into the living-room and before she could puzzle out what he intended he was back with a leather-bound planner. 'You've just time to have a swim and change into something less likely to make me lose control,' he rasped, consulting the book. 'I've got a couple of urgent calls to make and a meeting later this morning. I'll fit you in between those. Pity I didn't know exactly when you were coming back—I'd have kept the day free. Come to my office at the casita in half an hour.' He snapped the book shut and gave her a look. 'Don't try to avoid it,' he ground out, correctly interpreting the mutinous expression on her face. 'I would hate to have to come and fetch you in front of everyone.'
With that he swivelled and went striding off towards the front door. Red with rage, Flame stalked outside. Ignoring Samantha, she dived into the pool, and only after a couple of lengths did she feel she'd cooled down sufficiently to emerge.
'I'm not going to mention him again, Sammy,' she said as she dried herself when she climbed out, 'but does that man make a habit of charging about the villa as if he owns it?'
'I did try to warn you. He really is one of the family now. Mother has come to rely on him more and more. And because he still lives in the casita we see a lot of him. I fully expected him at breakfast as usual, but maybe he decided to give us time to be alone first.'
'I can't understand why he didn't go back to his bachelor apartment when we broke up,' Flame said irritably, ignoring the hint that Marlow could show any delicacy of feeling. 'Why hang around here?'
Samantha gazed at her for a moment, then shook her head. 'Honestly, Flame, it's obvious, isn't it?'
'Is it?' Flame refused to make the inference and felt her heart harden. She knew why he'd stayed.
But Samantha wouldn't let the matter drop. 'He's always expected you to come back where you belong.'
'With that sort of confidence it must have been a shock for him to find somebody actually walking out on him. And anyway,' Flame went on as Samantha tried to remonstrate, 'I said I didn't want to talk about him, and I meant it., There are far more important things on my mind at present. Do you think Mother's awake yet?'
'Nurse came out while you were in the pool. You can go in when you're ready. But, Flame --' Samantha looked anxious '—don't make her worry. She wants to see you both back together again. It's what she lives for now.'
With Samantha's warning in her ears and the meeting with Marlow firmly pushed to the back of her mind where she felt it belonged, Flame at last went in to see her mother. She looked as frail as she had seemed earlier when she was asleep, but though she was obviously 01 her blue eyes lit up when Flame appeared in the doorway.
'Darling, they said you were coming. This is wonderful ...' Her voice was a mere whisper, but she still managed to give Flame a searching glance. 'You're a lovely pale gold colour—it suits you. But aren't you rather thin, darling?'
'You sound just like your old self, Mother!' Flame searched her face for signs of illness. With a light touch of make-up Sybilla could have fooled anyone who didn't know her well. Flame sat down on the edge of the bed.
'Well?' She took Flame's hand. 'Have you come back to him or not?'
'I came back to see you. Sammy said you hadn't been feeling well --'
'Nonsense—it was absolutely nothing. I shall be as right as rain before long. I just wish I could stop worrying about you and Marlow.'
'I didn't come back with the idea of our getting back together,' Flame said carefully, Samantha's warning still ringing in her ears.
'I see.' Sybilla looked disappointed but tried to hide it. 'You must do what you feel is best, of course. But I thought by now you would have seen the error of walking out on him. He's been so patient with you...and I don't imagine patience comes easily to a man like him.'
'He's had no need to be patient. I told him it was over eighteen months ago. If he's been patient, as you call it, there must be some other reason. It's certainly not because he wants me!' As soon as she spoke Flame knew she had said the wrong thing. Her mother's eyes filled with tears.
Blinking, she asked, 'Wait until you see him. He always calls to see me before he goes to work.'
'I saw him.' Knowing she had disappointed her mother, Flame couldn't meet her eye.
'Didn't he say anything to you?'
Straight back to the point, thought Flame, feeling nettled. 'We're having a bit of a talk later,' she admitted grudgingly, hoping it wouldn't raise her mother's hopes too much. 'He's put me down in his timetable.'
'That's Marlow! He's a real dynamo.'
'He always was.'
'More so now. Your villa is finished and the hotel complex is due to open soon. Did he tell you? It was a mere sketch on his drawing-board when you left.'
'Good for him!' Flame heard the resentment in her voice and tried to give a little laugh, but her mother squeezed her hand.
'It's time, darling, it really is.'
'Time?' Flame tried to pretend she didn't know what her mother was driving at.
'Time to kiss and make up. He's looked after us all so well while you've been away. He's the son your father always wanted. Before he died he said to me, "Sybilla, there's one thing I regret—I wish I could have given you a son to care for you when I've gone". I told him not to be so morbid, the silly love. But if he could see Marlow now he'd know his dearest wish had come true. Emilio's a darling, but not in the same league as Marlow.' She sighed and her eyes closed, and with a jolt Flame realised what an effort it had been for her mother to keep up her usual flow of words. Her vivacity was a pretence.
The nurse popped her head round the door and diplomatically motioned for Flame to leave. She accompanied her into the corridor outside.
'.How ill is she?' Flame turned puzzled eyes to her. 'She looks thinner, but --'
'She had a mild heart attack after Christmas, then on top of that she picked up some sort of virus. It's really taken it out of her. But she's a fighter. She's making progress. The trouble is she worries, doesn't she?' The nurse's face was full of sympathy and Flame felt a sudden shudder as she foresaw the consequences of the situation.
Feeling obscurely guilty, she made her way over to the casita.
A path ran round the side of the two-storey building, and, through the window in what had once been earmarked as their living-room because of the view, Flame saw Marlow behind a large black desk. He was on the phone with a calculator in one hand, running figures off as he spoke. He looked very much the hot property developer, the man at the top.
The marriage had been over so quickly they hadn't even had time to choose any furniture. Fortunate, she thought, as she looked round now at all the high-tech communications stuff filling the place.
'You've really taken over here, haven't you?' she remarked acidly as she stepped inside.
'Somebody has to look after the Montrose clan,' he came back without smiling.
'What's wrong with Emilio? Or Sammy, come to that? She's a fully fledged adult.'
He gave a derisive laugh. 'Much as I love those two, they're as helpless as kittens when it comes to dealing with the scale of things at Santa Margarita.'
'Whereas you know every scam going.'
His lips tightened. 'Sit down.'
'I'll stand.'
Marlow waved a hand as if he couldn't care less. 'I asked you down here so we could talk seriously about what we're going to do.'
'I thought you knew.'
He raised two dark eyebrows.
Flame's voice didn't waver. 'I want a divorce.'
'You do—I don't.'
'Oh, come on, Marlow!' she exploded. 'What possible reason could you have for wanting to hang on to a marriage like ours? A marriage in name only.'
'I don't intend it to be in name only any longer.'
'What on earth do you mean?' She eyed him in astonishment.
'I would have thought it was obvious to the most obtuse of us.'
'Nothing's going to change between us,' she bit out. 'That much should be obvious even to you. And besides, you got all you really married me for the day I signed the marriage contract. Since then,' she added as coldly as she could, 'you've obviously taken steps to ensure the complete loyalty of the rest of the clan. Game and set to you, Marlow. But it doesn't mean I have to take any further part in your empire building and give you the match as well.'
'Just what are you getting at, Flame?' He sat back, steepling his fingers.
'I would have thought that was obvious to the most obtuse of us!' she riposted with a toss of her head. Her triumph was short-lived.
'You say you've grown up.' He shook his head. 'You may have acquired a little more sexual expertise while you've been in London, though even that remains to be seen, but, believe me, your growing up begins and ends there. You're still the immature girl I married. Let's try to be adult and discuss the matter properly.' He gave a perceptible sigh. 'I can't believe you're serious about what you've just been saying. Empire-building? You're not really trying to tell me you've been going around with stuff like that in your head since you left?'
His eyes seemed almost indigo. With the window behind him and his face in shadow Flame couldn't see their expression properly, but she could detect a note of incredulity in his voice. It didn't sound fake, but obviously it must be. He was still a brilliant actor. Despite her opinion, she felt her glance dwell too long on the pattern of light and shade in his face, trying to read what it meant.
Her silence must have gone on too long, for he thrust out one deeply tanned wrist to consult a watch, then his fingers began to drum impatiently as if he was waiting for an answer. It was a hand that was painfully familiar, one that had held her, caressed her, drawn cries of what now seemed like a satanic pleasure from deep within her.
Brushing her own hand rapidly across her forehead, she walked across the room to the balcony and stood gazing down into the garden. 'I should have known you'd try to talk me into something—but I would never have guessed it'd be that farrago of a marriage!' She turned. 'No doubt you have some subtle reason unbeknown to us lesser mortals. You always enjoyed these Machiavellian schemes, didn't you? That's what got you where you are today. Unluckily for you I'm no longer stupid enough not to see when I'm being used to further your ends. This is all you wanted to talk to me about, is it?' She half turned to the door. But he rose at once, stopping her in her tracks.
'All?' His face had darkened. 'I didn't take you lightly as my bride, Flame. And I'm not going to allow you to go on making a mockery of our marriage. You've been running around long enough. You've had your freedom. But now I'm blowing the whistle on you. You're not a child bride any longer. It's time to grow up and accept your responsibilities. I need my wife beside me—unfortunately it happens to be you!'
'How dare you, you insufferable devil? You're blowing the whistle? I'd like to know how! I came back here of my own free will. I wasn't waiting for you to give me permission!'
'I thought you came back when Samantha suggested you should,' he remarked blandly. 'Who do you think advised her to put it to you?' He gave a soft laugh. 'If you'd ignored the request I should simply have had to fly out and haul you back myself.'
'Am I hearing this?' Flame burst out.
'You're hearing me.' He gave a humourless smile. 'You must admit I've let you have a good run for your money. God knows why I should have been so reasonable. But even my patience has its limits. I want a wife now, a woman, not a child, and you're nearly twenty-one now— quite old enough to be expected to behave like an adult.'
The ferocious intensity with which he spoke made her falter, but she forced herself to face up to him. 'You don't want me, Marlow! You never did! Why make two of us unhappy?' Her eyes blazed. 'Can't you bear the idea of defeat?'
'Defeat, my dear wife, doesn't come into it. Real life isn't that sort of contest. If it were, there would be no doubt who would win. But there are much more important issues at stake.'
'Like what? Male pride? Ego? Power mania?' Her voice rose. 'There can't be anything else!'
Marlow's face was deathly pale and when he spoke his voice was like gravel. 'What about the happiness of others? To take one example, have you considered the effect all this is having on your mother?'
Flame gave a sharp intake of breath, then, collecting her wits, she threw her head back and laughed in his face. 'Really, Marlow, is that the best you can do?'
He was silent for a moment, forcing her to give him a searching glance that encompassed the austerity of his expression. 'You've seen how ill she is,' he went on with inexorable gravity. 'Her nurse will corroborate what I'm telling you. Your mother didn't get into this state overnight; it's been building since you ran away. Even you know how important our marriage is to her. Ail she desires is to see us together again.'
'It beats me why,' she muttered.
'Maybe she wants to feel you have someone to look after you?'
'Look after me? Like how, for instance? I can look after myself, thank you!'
'You weren't slow to cash your allowance each month,' he remarked drily.
'What the hell's my allowance got to do with you, you interfering devil? Who the hell do you think you are, prying into my private financial affairs? How dare you?'
He began to laugh softly but without much evidence of humour. 'Your financial affairs?' he mocked.
'Naturally I can't match you! You've been money-grubbing for years! But if you really want to know, I actually managed quite well in London. I had a damned good job, I'll have you know! So there! And if I did use the allowance Mother sent me on a few clothes, so what? It was my money—Montrose money!'
'Indeed?' Marlow gave a thin smile.
Brushing aside the import of what he was suggesting, Flame glowered back, rushing on to say, 'As for needing anybody, especially a predator like you!' she spat. 'Poor Mother hasn't quite caught up with the twentieth century if she thinks I need a man at any price. And anyway,' she added, 'if it comes down to that, I've already got a man.' She lifted her chin. 'He happens to be a human being, not a lying double-crosser like you. That's the difference!' Her thoughts had flown to Johnny and she wondered if he would mind being used in a marital battleground. Probably not!
Marlow lifted his head. Ignoring the insult, he said harshly, 'You've got a man? A lover, you mean? In London?' He paused. 'You mean someone in London?' He repeated the question as if not sure he understood what she was telling him.
Flame turned away. Her hands were shaking. When she dared look at him again, he still had that stunned look on his face that had made her avert her eyes. She'd certainly given him something to think about!
'You haven't mentioned anyone special to Samantha,' he stated swiftly without expression. 'You'd, have told her if there was anyone important.'
'What on earth's it got to do with you whether I have a lover? When I walked out on you, Marlow, I became a free agent. You didn't imagine I wanted to spend my life hanging around here waiting for a glance from you, did you? I needed freedom.' Flame bit her lip and turned away with a lump in her heart. The only freedom she had ever wanted had been the freedom to love Marlow forever. She'd been so naive!
'Actually I'm sure I must have mentioned him once or twice to Sam,' she blurted before she could stop herself. Put that way it sounded like the casual relationship it really was. Pulling herself together, she went on, 'I can't imagine why you're so sure she tells you everything. Your power isn't total, is it?' Disconcerted by his sudden stillness, she added, 'I may not have mentioned him because—because... Hell, what has my private life got to do with you any more? You forfeited the right to have any say eighteen months ago!' Suddenly unable to bear the look on his face, she crossed to the door.
'Wait!' He didn't
raise his voice, but the note of command was enough to make her pause. 'Let's get one thing clear, Flame. I'm not letting you go without a fight. I don't know anything about your London lover, but as far as I'm concerned you're my wife, and I'll do everything in my power to make you remain so --'
'Merely in order to please your mother-in-law?' she broke in scathingly.
'Obviously not. Though I'd like to please her—she's a lovely woman. But there are other considerations to be taken into account, not least the fact that you're my wife. You belong to me. I want what's mine.' His voice shook and he came round the edge of his desk towards her, every line of his face sharply etched with the intensity of his anger. 'You're back on my territory now, Flame. And you're going to know it.'
She trembled and stepped back, but she was determined to outface him. 'What you want, Marlow, and what you get, are often two entirely different things. To accept that as true is what I call maturity. You can make our divorce as difficult as you like, but get one thing straight: I'll never be anything but a wife in name. Is that what you want? Is that what you'd truly settle for?'
'Don't you believe it.' His voice was hoarse with emotion. 'I'm going to have you back, Flame. I'm going to have you body and soul. You owe me. And I want what's mine.'
As if to emphasise what he meant he reached out with one hand and let his fingers skim her body from shoulder to hip. She discovered she was breathing with sudden short, rapid breaths, her glance riveted to his face. The blue eyes flashed with recognition as he saw her reaction.
'Some things never change, and your weakness is one of them,' he murmured in a voice like silk.
'My weakness?' she managed to gasp.
'Your hunger, Flame. The one you can satisfy in no other way.'
'I don't know what you mean,' she muttered.
'I think you do. Look.' Then slowly, as if he had taken control over her will itself, Marlow placed each hand against the wall on either side of her head and without touching her in any other way brought his lips down in a kiss of tormenting slowness.
She could feel his lips, the ones she used to long for, cry for, pray for, pressure sweetly against her own, parting and probing, until her mouth began to open hungrily, irrevocably, to his. All the longing she had bottled up exploded in a spasm of wild need that shot through her with the sharpness of physical pain. It was unbidden, unwanted, and even while she was madly trying to gather her scattered forces of resistance Marlow lifted his head as smoothly as he had brought it down. There was a masked look on his face.
Simply Forever Page 3
