It could be, but somehow she doubted it. It was probably just her mother letting off steam again.
She unfolded the piece of paper, feeling her legs go weak as she read the message there.
‘Beth?’ Marcus questioned concernedly as she swayed in front of him. ‘Come and sit down,’ he ordered, taking hold of her arm to guide her away from the reception area and into one of the comfortable armchairs in the large ornate lounge.
As she sat down the piece of paper fell from her hand and drifted to the floor, fluttering slightly before it settled on the carpet. Beth stared at it uncomprehendingly.
Marcus picked up the paper, glancing at it briefly before pushing it out of sight into his pocket, coming down on his haunches in front of her. ‘Beth?’ he prompted again softly, taking her chilled hands in his and gently rubbing them in his much warmer ones.
It didn’t matter that he had put the note away out of sight, that she could no longer see the words printed on it; she knew exactly what was written there. ‘M has announced his engagement to Brenda Carlisle’.
M had to be Martin. And Brenda was the daughter of Beth’s father’s business partner, and just eighteen years old. Brenda was young and beautiful, and must surely be being used in yet another shrewd move by Beth’s father and Martin.
Martin would very shortly be Charles’s heir; by marrying Brenda the whole business empire would one day be his.
Not that Brenda wasn’t attractive; she was a small vivacious brunette with a mischievous sense of humour. But if Chloe had been in Martin’s life before and during Beth’s marriage to him Beth had no reason to suppose it was any different now. In fact she was sure that Martin was still with Chloe. And, of all the people Martin could have chosen to marry, it was too much of a coincidence that he had chosen Brenda Carlisle, heiress to her father’s business and money.
Beth actually liked Brenda, had found her good fun on the few occasions the two of them had actually met, although she had been a little too young for Beth to have made a good friend of her. She certainly couldn’t believe Brenda would be any match for the ultra-sophisticated Chloe!
Did she feel pain at Martin’s engagement? She wasn’t really sure what she felt. She had loved Martin once, but his cruelty to her when and after she had lost their baby had left her in no doubt how he felt about her, had ultimately killed any feelings of love she might have had for him.
‘I’ll get you some coffee,’ Marcus said firmly at her side, going in search of a waiter.
Beth closed her eyes to stop the room from swaying. No wonder her mother had telephoned her so promptly, she obviously knew what this meant too; another naïve and trusting young woman sacrificed for the sake of the Palmer empire.
She would have to go back to England as soon as possible, couldn’t let Brenda marry Martin without at least trying to tell her what sort of man he was. Not that she thought for a minute that Brenda would actually believe her; the younger girl obviously loved him and had no reason not to believe he loved her in return. And Martin could be very convincing when he chose to be—Beth would never have believed what he was capable of herself if she hadn’t seen and heard it with her own eyes and ears. She couldn’t meekly sit back and let that happen to another woman without at least trying to tell Brenda the truth about him.
Marcus was returning to her side now, frowning grimly as she went to get up. ‘You aren’t going anywhere until you’ve drunk some coffee,’ he announced autocratically. ‘And gained some colour back in your cheeks.’
She automatically raised a hand to her cheeks, her skin seeming to burn while her hand felt cold. But she could believe she looked pale; she had just received a great shock. It had never even occurred to her that something like this might happen. Brenda was so young, at least twelve years Martin’s junior; the match was ludicrous.
Marcus nodded tersely to the waiter as he brought the tray of coffee, pouring the hot liquid himself, ignoring Beth’s protests as he added the sugar. ‘You need it,’ he told her grimly, standing watch over her as she drank the too-sweet liquid.
Was it so obvious that she had received a great shock? Of course it was, she knew that even as she felt some of the colour return to her cheeks, some of the numbness recede from her limbs. A year since she had lost the baby, her marriage in shreds, and yet the pain just seemed to go on and on. Would it never stop? She blinked back the tears.
‘Drink,’ Marcus instructed forcefully.
She swallowed the liquid obediently, grimacing as she did so, replacing the empty cup on the tray with a hand that was far from steady. ‘I have to go to my room and make a telephone call,’ she said abruptly.
‘I’ll come with you.’ Marcus’s hand came up under her elbow as she stood up.
‘No, I… Thank you for today, Marcus,’ she said sincerely. ‘I’ll never forget that you showed me Venice.’
He frowned. ‘That sounds rather final.’
She averted her eyes from his searching ones. ‘I really do need to go to my room.’
‘I’ll take you,’ he told her again firmly.
There really was little point in arguing with this man in her weakened state. In the end Marcus would do exactly what he wanted to do, and at the moment she was in no condition to argue with him.
In truth she was glad of his supporting hand under her arm as they walked up the steps and into the lift; she still felt very shaken.
Martin had lost no time in securing his future a second time, in doubly securing it this time; he wouldn’t have half of the empire now, he would have all of it married to Brenda. She wasn’t quite sure where that left the woman Chloe in his life, but that was Chloe’s problem—Beth’s responsibility towards Brenda was hers!
She stopped outside her room, turning to Marcus. ‘I really am grateful to you for—well, for your time this morning, and—just now.’ She couldn’t quite meet his gaze. ‘I’m sorry I made such a fool of myself, but I—I had some rather—surprising news.’ She owed him that much of an explanation at least, although she was sure he had already surmised that for himself.
He looked at her searchingly. ‘There’s nothing I can do to help?’
‘No,’ she replied chokingly, shaking her head.
There was nothing anyone could do about this inner pain, it just kept ripping her apart, time and time again. Just when she thought she couldn’t be touched by Charles and Martin any more they would do something else that hurt her.
Marcus still frowned down at her. ‘Was it bad news?’
She swallowed hard. ‘Bad enough.’
‘Is someone in your family ill? Do you have—?’
‘I’m not up to twenty questions just now,’ she pleaded wearily.
‘You are going to lie down?’
Eventually she was sure she would have to. She had a couple of telephone calls she had to make first. But she would eventually have to lie down or fall down.
‘Yes,’ she answered truthfully. ‘I will be lying down.’
‘I don’t like seeing you like this.’ He looked worried. ‘There must be something I can do, something I can get you?’
Beth could only guess at what she must look like to have elicited this concern, knew that her eyes would be an even deeper green in her pain, her face waxy white, her lips colourless too. She had seen that reflection herself so often not to know just how ghastly she must look.
She put up a hand and gently touched his cheek, where a pulse beat erratically. ‘Nothing,’ she assured him gruffly. ‘But I appreciate your concern.’
‘Damn it, I don’t want…Beth!’ he groaned hoarsely as he gathered her up in his arms, his mouth claiming hers.
Her defences were already down, her need for human warmth far outweighing any call for caution from her bruised and battered heart.
She returned the kiss, clinging to him, wishing the last three years would just disappear, that she had never visited her father, never met Martin, never known the joy and then utter despair of carrying and then losing her own
child. She gave a choked sob at the thought of her darling baby.
‘Beth?’ Marcus cradled each side of her face, his eyes dark with concern. ‘Tell me what’s happened. Let me help you.’
She shook her head, swallowing back the tears. ‘It’s nothing. Please—I have to go. I’m sorry if I’ve been—difficult.’
She quickly escaped inside her room, leaning weakly back against the door.
She was sure her mother hadn’t meant for her to do this, but she had to return home now as soon as she possibly could.
There was some problem with the booking, but she finally managed to get a seat on the following day’s flight, putting another call through to her mother straight after that, only to be told by her mother’s secretary that she was away on business until the following evening. Beth realised this had to be the reason her mother had left the message at all rather than trying to speak to her in person, that it wasn’t the sort of thing her mother would usually have left to the impersonality of a message left on a piece of paper, but knowing it was too important not to let Beth know straight away. Her mother had at least tried to protect some of her privacy by referring to Martin as just M on the message, although she had had to put Brenda’s name in full; there was no way Beth would have been able to guess that it was the young girl who was intended as Martin’s next bride!
The message, she suddenly realised. She remembered now that Marcus had put the crumpled piece of paper in his pocket…
CHAPTER SIX
‘IS YOUR seatbelt fastened? We’re about to land.’
Beth opened her eyes to look at the man seated beside her. She hadn’t even been surprised when Marcus had boarded the plane with her earlier today, had shown even less emotion when it transpired that they were actually seated next to each other too.
She had almost been able to guess this was what would happen once she remembered he had her message in his pocket. Marcus had been intelligent enough to realise how deeply that message had affected her, to guess that it might be enough to make her return to England by her reaction to it. A simple telephone call, not unlike the one he had made to her hotel in Verona, was all that was needed to tell him of her expected departure the following day.
And, of course, he had been arrogant enough to make that call!
She had spent almost all of the previous evening doing her packing, and, when she had gone to bed, had moved about restlessly as she tried to evade the feeling of heaviness which remembering the heartlessness of the end of her marriage and the cruelty of losing her baby always gave her. The thought of something like that happening all over again, with someone as young as Brenda, gave her the shudders.
Consequently, despite what Marcus might have thought her reasons, she had been so exhausted that she had fallen asleep almost as soon as the plane was in the air.
She straightened in her seat. ‘It was never unfastened,’ she dismissed, searching about at her feet for her handbag. ‘I had better go and tidy myself up,’ she announced pointedly, her hand moving to undo her seatbelt.
Marcus stilled the movement. ‘I said we’re about to land.’ He nodded in the direction of the illuminated seatbelt sign overhead.
And he meant literally, she realised with irritation. Had he done that on purpose, out of annoyance for her having fallen asleep for the whole journey? She doubted he was that petty—it really wasn’t his style at all—but he hadn’t left her much time to tidy herself.
Her hair was so fine that it needed only a quick brush through, her only make-up a fresh coat of lipstick.
‘Is that it?’ Marcus drawled, his brows raised as he watched her. ‘Most women I know take hours to “put on their face”.’
Beth gave him a look that implied he must know some pretty ravaged women.
His mouth quirked as he accurately read that look, although he sobered suddenly as a thought occurred to him. ‘Is anyone meeting you?’
The question was put casually enough, and yet Beth felt that was only a façade, that he was deeply interested in her reply. The only person she had told of her return today had been her mother’s secretary, just so that she could tell her mother when she got back from her business trip. Although she doubted that was the sort of ‘anyone’ Marcus had in mind. And she had to admit that it had never entered the conversation about whether either of them were already involved with someone else.
‘Not that I know of,’ she said uninterestedly, turning her attention to the view out of the window, instantly recognising London spread out before her, the plane descending rapidly now.
She was actually glad to be back in England now that the decision to return had been made. The holiday did actually seem to have done what it had been intended to do; she felt stronger within herself somehow. Maybe once she had done her duty, as regarded Brenda, she could actually start to rebuild her own life. She didn’t remember feeling this anticipation for the future for a long time, a very long time.
Oh, God, that feeling didn’t have anything to do with the man seated beside her, did it?
She gave him a stricken sideways look, convinced in her own mind that he had to be even more unsuitable for her to care about than Martin had ultimately proved to be. And yet somehow just having him here beside her gave her back a confidence she had forgotten she had, a feeling that she could cope with whatever there was to come.
She couldn’t actually be coming to care about Marcus, could she?
She had assured herself during the previous evening that it didn’t matter, that she wouldn’t be seeing him again, and yet she knew she had felt a warm rush of pleasure earlier today when she had realised that was no longer true.
Thank God they were back in London and she could regain some of the cautious sense the romance of Venice seemed to have robbed her of. It would never do to become emotionally involved with Marcus Craven.
Because she had suddenly become aware of her softened feelings towards him her manner was even more stilted as they left the plane and went through to collect their luggage. She raised a sharp protest when Marcus took both her cases and put them on a trolley with his own.
‘We may as well get a taxi back into town together,’ he dismissed practically.
She frowned, almost having to run to keep up with him as he strode off towards the green area of Customs. She was sure he didn’t have anything to declare, but he was just the type of person the Customs officers were likely to stop and search, his arrogance seeming to imply he dared do anything.
But maybe his stamp of authority was even more effective, because they were able to walk out unhindered, booking a taxi outside the terminal with little trouble, Marcus raising his eyebrows at her questioningly when the driver asked where they were going in London. Beth irritably gave her address before settling into the back of the taxi, Marcus at her side.
‘My apartment isn’t too far away from there,’ he told her.
So? Although she found it hard to believe, if that was the case, that they hadn’t met each other on a social level before now. Until a year ago she had socialised quite extensively with her father and Martin.
‘Have you lived in London long?’ she asked casually.
‘I don’t live in London at all,’ he drawled. ‘I have an apartment there. I also have one in Hong Kong and New York. In fact, I’ve been in New York for most of the last couple of years or so.’
Having lived in the business world of first her mother, then her father, and eventually Martin too, Beth was quite used to this jet-set way of life. It was also obvious to her that Marcus must know of her father even if he didn’t know the man himself.
‘What sort of business are you in?’ She tried not to sound too interested in his answer.
‘Property, mainly,’ he dismissed, his eyes narrowed. ‘Do you work?’
Now why did she have the feeling that he asked that question almost scornfully; did she have the look of someone who had never worked a day in her life? If so, it was a completely erroneous impression! But then, Marcus
really knew very little about her, as she did him.
‘Yes, I work,’ she answered stiltedly. ‘I manage a clothing boutique.’
Dark brows rose slightly, but he added nothing more to the subject.
Beth felt relieved when they got into town, the drive to her apartment made in minutes then. She just wanted to get settled back into her home, somehow contrive to at least talk to Brenda, and then get on with her life. She didn’t know yet whether that would involve seeing Marcus again or not.
He climbed out of the taxi after her when they arrived at her apartment building. ‘I’ll help you in with these.’ He took control of the cases.
‘I…’ She wanted to object, but the truth of the matter was if Marcus didn’t help her upstairs with her luggage she would probably have to make two trips. ‘Thank you,’ she accepted awkwardly.
His mouth twisted derisively, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
They stopped outside her apartment door, Beth reluctant to allow anyone into the home that she had removed any reminder of Martin from and decorated during the last year to suit her own taste. The apartment was her, her home now, restful colours like greens and golds and pastel blues in the different rooms; she wasn’t sure she was ready for any man to enter that private world just yet, not even to deposit her luggage!
‘Thank you,’ she said again, standing her ground defensively in front of her apartment door.
Marcus put down the cases with a wry twist to his lips. ‘I’m not going to suddenly leap on you if you invite me inside,’ he mocked.
She felt the heat in her cheeks, but otherwise remained emotionless. ‘You have the taxi waiting,’ she reminded him, opening her bag as she realised she hadn’t paid for her half of the fare.
Grey eyes were narrowed to steely slits as he watched the movement. ‘I hope you aren’t going to be insulting.’
Beth looked up at him warily, seeing the warning in his eyes, slowly releasing the money she had been about to take out and thrust into his hand, closing her bag again with a firm click. ‘Thank you for all your help today,’ she said instead.
Romance 0f A Lifetime (Presents Plus) Page 7
