Gentle Savage

GENTLE SAVAGE Helen Brooks

Marshall Henderson had known Kelsey Hope for years, and now he was back in her life again, only this time it was Kelsey's turn to play the role of the other woman. Now she would know what it was like to fall in love with a man like Marshall, to fall in love only to be rejected... like all the others.

CHAPTER ONE 'WHAT exactly do you think you were playing at in there, Anna?' Kelsey awoke with a start in the depths of the hammock as the cold, tight voice bit into the warm summer air. 'I want an explanation from you and it had better be good!' 'I don't know what you mean.' The high female voice was sulky. 'I haven't done anything.' 'Haven't done anything!' Kelsey recognised the harsh tones as they sent a flock of starlings perched overhead in the leafy branches of the old oak tree scattering into the air in squawking protest. 'Don't play games with me. You intimated to David and Ruth that we had every intention of making our relationship permanent.' 'I didn't.' The woman's petulant voice lacked conviction. 'I just said you were thinking of buying a summer cottage here too.' 'You said "we" were thinking of buying one! "Must look forward to the future" was dropped in there somewhere if I remember correctly?' There was a scornful bark of a laugh that made Kelsey's flesh shiver. 'You won't blackmail me in such a crude fashion, Anna, so don't even try.' 'Please, Marshall, honey, listen to me; you've got this all wrong...' As the woman's soft wheedling voice died away Kelsey heard a rustle from behind the high thorn hedge separating her from the small enclosed rose- garden beyond. It was as though hands had grasped crisp cloth, and when the man's voice spoke again it was heavy with such contemptuous disdain that she found herself wincing for the hapless Anna. 'Don't waste your time, Anna—you forget I know all of your little tricks by now, and they're beginning to lose their charm.'

'But I only meant—' The hard voice cut off the protest in mid-flow. 'I was hoping you wouldn't force me to be indelicate but I can see I shall have to make it absolutely clear once again where you stand so there can be no misunderstanding. I have no intention of marrying you now or ever. It was never on the cards and you were fully aware of that from the beginning. You knew exactly what I wanted out of our...friendship, and you have not been treated ungenerously—' The woman's voice was shrill with anger as it interrupted the coolly modulated tones. 'How dare you, Marshall? You make me sound little better than a prostitute.' 'There's an old saying, my dear.' His voice was merciless. '"If the cap fits, wear it".' The silence was so acute that for a breathtaking moment Kelsey felt she could hear the grass grow. 'I won't forget this.' The high voice was ugly with rage. 'That was my intention.' There was an unforgivable throb of amusement colouring the dark voice. 'Would you like me to run you back to London? I presume you do intend to leave?' 'Oh, go to hell!' As high sharp heels clicked their way furiously out of earshot, Kelsey fell back in the hammock with a soft sigh of relief, realising for the first time that she had been eavesdropping, albeit unintentionally, on what had turned out to be a very private conversation. The movement was too sudden for the loosely stretched canvas, and the next moment she gave a stifled cry of surprise as she found herself in a sprawling heap on the soft springy grass below.

'Who's there?' Marshall's voice was a low growl of enquiry, and within seconds he had opened the small wooden gate halfway down the rose-garden and stepped on to the main lawn, his handsome face cold with annoyance. 'Kelsey?' His dark brown eyes were cool as he watched her struggle quickly to her feet. 'I didn't put you down as a spy.' She turned to face him on legs that were suddenly weak, pushing back her thick mane of soft red-gold hair as she spoke, her small heart-shaped face hot with embarrassment. 'Don't you start on me, Marshall Henderson! I'm not some poor deluded girlfriend of yours whom you're taking for a ride. I don't have to put up with your sarcasm. I was asleep in the hammock, as it happens, and you woke me up.' She glared at him furiously. 'Well, well, well.' He stepped back a pace, smiling slightly, folding his arms and tilting his dark head to one side. 'The sweet little kitten has claws after all. So you think I'm taking poor Anna for a ride, do you?' His brown eyes glittered as he looked down at her standing defiantly in front of him, her slender body as straight as a ramrod and her amber eyes gleaming with outrage. 'Yes, I do!' She spoke, as she always did, straight from the heart. 'To talk to someone like that, to be so heartless and cruel, you're just, just...' He cut into her stammerings as she searched for a word to aptly describe her disgust. 'Cruel, I think you said?' His face was alight with some emotion she couldn't read and he looked as though he was thoroughly enjoying himself, an impression his next words confirmed. 'I always wondered if there was a temper to match that wonderful hair, and now I know, don't I?'

His voice was indulgent, as though he were dealing with a delightful but slightly troublesome child. 'However, if you will listen to conversations that are not meant for your young ears, you can hardly blame me for feeling shocked, now can you, honey-bee?' 'Don't you "honey-bee" me!' She had the desire to do or say something that would wipe the patronising satisfaction off that handsome face. 'Keep your endearments for the poor fools who get mixed up with you. You disgust me.' She saw her words register on his smiling face, and he straightened slowly, his eyes taking on the hardness of polished onyx as his mouth grew grim. 'Do I take it that I am being cast in the role of heartless seducer?' he asked acidly as he took a step nearer. 'You really are a most ridiculous young woman. I suppose it comes from being indulged for most of your life by doting parents. At seventeen I had been out in the real world for twelve months earning my living by hard graft.' 'And owning your own company at twenty-two and several more in the last four years—you see, I do listen to the after-dinner conversation occasionally. Bravo, Mr Henderson!' She clapped her hands lightly in angry sarcasm. 'Well, let me tell you, if my parents have seen fit to give me the opportunity to go to college to pursue something I love I really don't think it's any of your business.' She scowled at him from narrowed gold eyes. 'Just because you happen to use my father as your accountant it doesn't give you the right to— ' 'Now just you hang on a moment, young lady.' Suddenly he was really angry, and she knew a moment's deep satisfaction that she had finally hit him on the raw. 'My relationship with your father has nothing whatsoever to do with this

conversation. As it happens I value him as a close and loyal friend, and I wouldn't dream of presuming—' 'Well, I think you have presumed!' From the amazed expression on the dark tanned face she assumed he wasn't used to being interrupted very often. There was a deep silence and then she flung back her head to look up into the cold face frowning down at her. 'I didn't spy on you as you so nastily put it! This is my garden and my hammock and I have every right to be here. I didn't know you were going to pick this afternoon to rip someone to pieces, did I?' 'If you are referring to Anna I think that is a little dramatic.' His voice was terse. 'If the lady felt anything at all, which I sincerely doubt, it was merely dented pride.' 'How can you possibly say that?' She stared at him in amazement, her huge amber-flecked eyes with their thick gold lashes alive with distaste. 'I can say it because it happens to be true,' he said crisply. 'You have a lot to learn about life, my girl, and I doubt whether that college you attend will teach you anything of substance. You can forget any childish notions that Anna really cares about me one way or the other. She is an extremely ambitious and acquisitive woman, and my wealth and influence are not unattractive to her. End of story.' 'I don't believe you.' His dark eyes turned to slate. 'You're just trying to make it sound better, that's all. I know what I heard.' 'Do you, indeed?' He looked at her for a long moment and then his firm well-shaped mouth twisted into a small cold smile. 'You are very fortunate that I am a guest in your father's home, Kelsey. There isn't a woman alive I would allow to talk to me as you have done and get away with it.'

She licked suddenly dry lips nervously, and his piercing eyes followed the gesture. She had always been slightly in awe of this friend of her parents, uneasy in his presence, and for the first time she realised why. There was an intimidating, almost sensual power emanating from the tall, broad-shouldered figure in front of her that caused a small shiver to flicker down her spine. He troubled her, he always had, ever since she'd first really noticed him a couple of years ago when she was fifteen, and she recognised fear mixed with excitement in that sensation deep inside that he always managed to produce. She usually tried to avoid him on the occasional weekend when he joined them at her father's weekend cottage, always with a different woman in tow. He was dangerous and he was all male. 'Would you like me to prove to you that I am right?' He broke into her thoughts and she stared at him without speaking. 'I will suggest to Anna that she stay the rest of the weekend as planned. Just suggest.' He held up an authoritative hand as she went to reply. 'I promise you I will not backtrack on what I said earlier or try to coerce her in any way. If, as you suggest, she is heartbroken, I think it would be reasonable to assume she would refuse and go home immediately. Right?' Kelsey nodded slowly. 'If, on the other hand, I am correct she will probably cut her losses and hang on to what she's got. Do you agree?' She nodded again. 'How can I trust you that you won't try to sweet- talk her?' He looked at her for a long moment without speaking, and she knew a sudden sharp dart of fear at the expression in his stony eyes. 'Don't push your luck, honeybee.' His voice was like silk but the warning was unmistakable and all the more sinister with the use of his pet name for her. She vaguely remembered an instance, three or four years before, when he had likened her distinct colouring to that of a velvety gold honey-bee, and for some reason the name had stuck.

She flushed but said nothing, and after one last hard look he turned and walked away slowly, his movements fluid and controlled like the lazy saunter of the king of the big cats. The rest of the afternoon dragged. The air was still rich with the heavy scents of late summer borne on a soft warm breeze, insects still went about their business in the bushes and flowers near by, membraneous wings wafting gently in the muggy air, but as Kelsey struggled on, trying to read a book in which she had lost all interest, her thoughts returned again and again to Marshall and Anna. The relaxed, contented mood of the weekend was broken, and it was all his fault! Overbearing, conceited swine, Kelsey thought viciously as she read the same paragraph three times before she realised what she was doing. By dinnertime she was more composed. She normally loved this time of the evening when her parents and any guests gathered in the large drawing-room for drinks before dinner, the big french windows open on to the pretty country garden into which the stark blue shadows of evening were creeping and where the last pure notes of the dying day were sung in sweet harmony by the settling birds. Marshall was sitting deep in conversation with her father when she joined them after pouring herself a sherry, and Anna was nowhere to be seen. 'There you are, darling.' Her mother patted the seat beside her on the velvet buttoned settee. 'I do believe you've caught the sun today. What do you think, Marshall?' The dark inky eyes moved over her honey-tinted skin and down her slender frame slowly, his face bland but the glitter in the brown eyes carrying its own message that her mother was blind to. 'She looks charming, Ruth, as always.' He turned back to her father as he

spoke, but not before she had seen the bright, mocking challenge in his gaze as Anna entered from the garden, carrying a huge bunch of full-blown roses in her hands. 'Anna wanted some roses for her room.' She forced her eyes to lift to the sardonic face watching her so closely. One black eyebrow lifted in cruel, ironic amusement and she flushed slightly, lowering her gaze and finishing her sherry in a huge gulp that brought tears to her eyes. 'They are lovely, aren't they?' She smiled at Anna as she spoke but the brunette's slanted blue gaze was fixed tight on Marshall's smiling face and the hard blue eyes were hungry. The meal was an agony. She suffered the hour of polite conversation and meaningless chatter, and all the time -was vitally and painfully aware of a dark, cold face alight with satisfied amusement and enjoyment at her discomfiture. As soon as she could make her escape she crept outside, the black outlines of familiar trees and bushes silhouetted against the orange and red sky. She sat on a long wooden bench well away from the lights of the house and let the quiet peace and tranquillity of the sleeping garden enfold her in its calming spell, while the sky changed to deep charcoal and a canopy of darkness settled over the stillness. She had never felt so hopelessly gauche and naive in all of her seventeen years. Why hadn't she had the sense to leave it all alone? It was nothing to do with her anyway. She had just made herself appear foolish in front of him and, although .cold logic told her it didn't matter, it did. Terribly. 'I thought I'd find you out here.' She turned slowly on the old wooden seat as the deep mellow voice sounded behind her, to find

him leaning against the gnarled trunk of the old willow tree, his expression hidden in the black shadows. That was another thing about him that always set her nerves alight—his voice. It was like no other she had ever heard, rich and deep and low with a certain laziness in its depths that could change to a harsh growl in the next breath. She had half expected him to come looking for her; he would hardly miss such a perfect opportunity to gloat, having proved her so completely wrong. 'I needed some air,' she said stiffly as her eyes searched the darkness and saw him nod slowly. 'Of course.' She looked at him tightly but his face was a pale blur in the shadows and she could discern nothing from his bland voice. 'You were right, then.' She swallowed painfully. 'It appears I misjudged the situation.' 'Is that an apology?' He moved closer to the seat and she could see the outline of his face now, but the ebony eyes were hooded and remote and his rugged features were unreadable. 'Yes,' she admitted softly, turning her face away. 'My, my. This really is a night for surprises all round. I don't know many females who admit to being wrong.' His tone was caustic and full of dry mockery. 'I didn't say I was actually wrong.' 'Now don't spoil it.' She could feel he was finding the whole incident immensely entertaining, and the desire to get below the surface of that distant, controlled mind was suddenly paramount.

'My opinion of you hasn't altered in the slightest, if you want to know, and I don't think much of her either.' She flicked her head in the direction of the house and a long tendril of burnished hair brushed across her face. 'Poor Anna,' he drawled wryly. 'Has she rocked the boat?' 'If you knew what she was like, why did you go out with her in the first place? I find that very.,.' She searched for an appropriately scathing word and found it. 'Sordid.' 'Sordid?' She had got underneath his skin at last; she felt it in the way his voice cut the air like a knife. 'Don't be so absurd. What does a child like you know about it?' 'Not much, thank goodness, and I am not a child!' She stared up into his irritated face with clear amber eyes. 'My parents have brought me up to believe that you start a relationship with someone because you care about them and would like to know them better. Of course that doesn't always lead to anything—people change and things get in the way, but to go with someone just for...' She hesitated. 'Well, I think it's—' 'Sordid.' His voice was arctic-cold. 'Yes, I know.' She suddenly realised that in spite of his casual stance he was furiously angry. 'Look, little Miss Perfect, what makes you think you've got all the answers? You're hardly out of nappies, for crying out loud. You've been wrapped up in cotton wool all your life and you don't know the first thing about the real world. It's dog eat dog out there, my girl, and don't you forget it.' 'The world has got nothing to do with what we are talking about.' 'Hasn't it?' He gave a bark of a laugh. 'Hasn't it, indeed? I can assure you that give it a few years and your standards and motives will have altered like the rest of your sex.'

'If you mean by that I will have lowered my principles on to a level with yours you are quite mistaken,' she said proudly. 'It seems to me that you deserve the sort of women you apparently attract. I've never met such a shallow, unfeeling—' He was by her side in an instant, and she shrank back against the hard surface of the seat as she saw his face. She had pushed him too far. 'Yes, please continue.' His eyes were black in the darkness and as hard as stone. 'This is most informative. I always did think you were a precocious little brat—comes from being an only child, I suppose.' He was being unfair, and they both knew it. 'Children are precocious and I am not a child,' she said weakly. He was too close for comfort and there was something about that tall, lean body that was sending goose-pimples all over her skin. He sat down beside her as she spoke and his smile was chilling. 'No, Kelsey, you are not a child,' he agreed smoothly. His voice was velvet-soft and she felt that tiny shiver of mixed fear and excitement again as his arm reached out behind her along the bench. 'Now how much of a woman you are I'm not sure.' His hard mouth had claimed hers before she was aware of what was happening, and for a stunned moment she was frozen against him as he pulled her easily into his body, his firm, warm lips penetrating hers and invading the sweetness beyond. The kiss went on and on, and Kelsey was too entranced with the slow, hot melting of her body to move away, although a small segment of her mind that remained untouched told her this was a calculated exercise. He smelt...thrilling. A mixture of expensive aftershave and clean male skin that aroused something deep inside her for the first time. His body was broad and enveloping, and she could feel tightly bunched muscles in his arms where her hands rested against him. Her head began to swim slightly and as his mouth moved in tiny

feather-light kisses over her throat and ears she couldn't stop a little moan of pleasure from escaping her lips. This was so unexpected— she had never imagined a man's touch could make her feel this way. The boys she had been out with had merely irritated her in the past with their constant desire to touch and kiss her and their fumbling clumsy overtures. His hands were moving in a gentle caressing rhythm across her back now, stroking the soft flesh in a sensual pattern of arousal that stopped just at the base of her spine where the thin material of her sundress started. She felt them move upwards as his mouth parted her lips again, and as his long fingers lightly stroked her full breasts she jerked backwards with a little cry of surprise, her dazed golden eyes holding his in shocked awareness. 'Don't.' Her voice was a breathless whisper and he smiled slightly as he let his arms fall to his sides, his dark face faintly mocking. 'As I thought.' He stood up slowly and stood looking down at her in the dim moonlight. An owl hooted somewhere in the night but otherwise it was as though the two of them were alone in all the world as his cold gaze took in the bruised, trembling lips and wide eyes. 'Give it a few years and you'll be quite a femme fatale, but you are not yet awakened to the delights of love.' She flushed miserably, unable to discern whether it was censure or something else that was colouring the dark face. He smiled again and ran a finger fleetingly over one hot cheek before she jerked away. 'You'll break quite a few hearts, honey-bee—wait and see.' 'I don't want to break any hearts,' she answered stiffly. 'I'm not like that.' He took a small step backwards and now his smile held a touch of bitterness as he looked out over the sleeping garden with distant

eyes. 'You'll change, sweetheart; they all do. It becomes a game, and the only thing that is of any importance is that you play it to win.' He shook his head slightly as he glanced down at her again and now his eyes had a bite in them that hadn't been there before. 'All that innocent sweetness will be a forgotten dream.' 'Stop it.' Her voice was sharp with bewilderment. 'I won't change.' 'You're halfway there already, little honey-bee.' He let his eyes run in sensual mockery down her body and she bit her lip hard as she remembered his easy conquest of her senses. 'You'll have them eating out of your hand.' 'Not everyone is the way you think.' She stood up as she spoke, smoothing the creases out of her dress with hands that shook. 'It doesn't have to be a game.' 'I used to believe that once.' There was a wealth of bitterness in the deep voice, and as she looked at him in consternation he faced her suddenly, his face cruel in the moonlight. 'Then I grew up and learnt better. There is nothing special about you, Kelsey; you will follow the same mould.' 'Don't talk to me like that.' The brutality after the sweetness of that kiss was hard to take. 'You don't know anything about me.' 'I don't need to,' he said grimly. 'You are descended from Eve, aren't you? It's in your genes.' She took a step backwards away from him as she looked full into the hard face again, her eyes wide in her pale face. 'What's the matter with you?' 'The matter with me?' he repeated lazily, shooting her a dark gleaming glance. 'Why, nothing, as far as I know. I told you before, I live out there, in the real world.' His mouth twisted into a

semblance of a smile. 'I'm sorry that Anna and I have disappointed you, Kelsey. It's probably better if we leave tomorrow. I think that particular lady has run her course anyway.' His mouth was challenging and his eyes hostile. 'Too much of any one dessert is a little sickening, don't you think?' 'She is a woman, not a dessert,' Kelsey said forcefully, and he laughed softly. 'It's the same thing, isn't it?' He was gone before she could reply, a tall black shadow moving swiftly through the darkness, blending into his surroundings like a prowling cat, silent and infinitely dangerous. She sat for a long time in the blackness, struggling to make some sense of such inherent cruelty. He had shocked her more than he would ever know, not so much with his words but with the cold callousness with which they had been delivered. What had she ever done to him that he should treat her with such harshness? She felt slightly sick, as though someone had punched her in the stomach. He was right about one thing, she thought grimly as her thudding heart returned to normal and she took a hold of her senses: she had been over-protected by her parents in the past. She had had no idea a man like him existed, and under the guise of a friend of her father. Her father couldn't know what he was like! The chill of the night eventually drove her indoors and she went straight to her room without joining the others in the drawing-room even to say goodnight. She didn't want to look on that handsome, ruthless face again, ever. He had jolted her into an awareness of the darker side of man with such heartlessness that, she would never forgive him. The next morning when she went warily downstairs her mother told her that Marshall and Anna had been called away unexpectedly

...and shortly after that her father had his first major heart attack and the summer cottage was sold. She saw Marshall once more, a few months later, at her father's funeral, but then he was a courteous remote stranger speaking polite words of sympathy and she was too consumed by grief to care. All that had been nearly four years ago and she hadn't thought about him in months, so why was it that now, on the eve of her twentyfirst birthday, he should send her a single red rose and ask her to meet him for dinner that evening?

CHAPTER TWO 'I DON'T believe this. I really don't.' Kelsey looked blankly at the brief invitation scrawled in black ink on the gold card in her hand. How on earth had he got her address after all this time? On moving to her tiny London flat twelve months ago she had informed numerous friends and relations of her new address, but he sure hadn't been one of them! Her mother! It had to be Ruth. Hinging the rest of the morning post on the small table next to the front door, she padded across the small square room and picked up the phone angrily. Her mother knew she thoroughly disliked Marshall, but as far as Kelsey was aware Ruth was her only link with her old enemy. 'Mum?' Ruth's soft, warm voice replied in the affirmative. 'I've just had the most amazing invitation in the post. You don't know anything about it, do you?' 'What's that, dear?' Kelsey knew instantly her suspicions had been right. Ruth's voice held that note of surprised innocence that she recognised of old. It meant that her mother had been meddling again. 'It's from Marshall Henderson.' Kelsey kept her voice calm with considerable effort. 'You know, that old friend of Dad's I can't stand.' Turn the knife a little, Kelsey, she thought unrepentantly— you're entitled! 'Marshall? Oh, yes?' 'He's asked me out for dinner tonight and I was wondering how he could have got my address. You don't know, do you?' There was a long pregnant pause and then Ruth's apologetic tones crept down the line. 'From me.'

'Mum! You really are the limit.' Kelsey paused and forced her voice into a more moderate pitch. 'When did you see him, then?' 'Oh, I have lunch with him now and then when I'm in town,' her mother admitted airily. 'You've never told me that,' Kelsey replied accusingly. 'I didn't think you'd be interested, dear,' Ruth said reasonably. 'You've always made it plain you don't care for the man, but he's an old friend of your father's and we've kept in touch. I told him about your little flat ages ago when you moved. He must have remembered from then.' 'Oh, I see,' Kelsey said slowly, slightly mollified. At least it hadn't been a premeditated exercise on her mother's part. But she had sounded very guilty when she picked up the phone! 'Did you know he was going to contact me?' 'I think he mentioned it the last time we met,' her mother answered vaguely. 'I'm going to have to dash, dear; things to do.' 'Yes, all right.' Kelsey frowned at the phone. This was all most irritating. 'I'll see you tomorrow morning when I drive down.' 'Kelsey!' Her hand froze halfway to putting the receiver down and she lifted the phone to her ear again. 'Yes?' 'Are you going?' 'What?' 'With Marshall? Are you going?' Her mother was trying very hard for nonchalance and failing miserably.

'I doubt it. I'll see you tomorrow about eleven.' She didn't want to argue with her mother, especially not when Ruth had organised such a big family party over the weekend, but if she didn't finish this conversation now that was exactly what was going to happen. 'OK, darling.' Her mother accepted defeat gracefully. 'Look forward to it.' A quick glance at the clock told her she was way behind schedule, and after a hasty shower she dressed quickly, forgoing breakfast in an effort to get to work on time. Everything seemed to go wrong. A button popped off her blouse and, not having time to sew it on, she had to change her whole outfit. Her hair seemed to have a mind of its own and wouldn't conform to the high loose knot she normally wore for the office. She broke a nail just as she was leaving the flat and then her old battered Mini got stuck behind a huge lorry belching black exhaust fumes until the grimy smell had permeated her very being. She arrived at the office with a minute to spare to find Greg sitting in her chair, his long legs propped on her desk. That was all she needed to complete her day, she thought resignedly, forcing a cool smile to her lips as she met his leering grin. 'Hi, angel face. You're cutting it fine this morning.' 'Not really.' She glanced briefly at the delicate gold watch on her wrist which had been her father's last present to*her before he had died. 'It is now...' she paused '...exactly nine o'clock so if you'll move I'll get to work.' 'OK, OK.' He shuffled to his feet, scattering a pile of papers as he moved. 'Just wanted to ask you to share a spot of lunch. OK?' 'No, I'm sorry.' She looked straight at him, her pale beautiful face with its huge amber eyes and fine winged brows expressionless. 'It's

my party tomorrow and there are some last-minute arrangements I need to check with the caterers. I shan't have time for lunch. I'll just snatch a sandwich.' 'Excuses, excuses.' His pale blue eyes narrowed coldly. 'Well, I'll see you tomorrow anyway, won't I? Save all the dances for me. I'll ring you later.' As he ambled off she sank down on the chair he had vacated with a small sigh. Why couldn't he get the message? When the owner of the small interior design business she worked for had introduced her to his son she had thought he seemed a pleasant but immature young man. Greg was twenty-four and good-looking in a rather flash sort of way, and at first Kelsey had accepted his invitations to dinner and the theatre with a measure of enjoyment. It had been nice to go out and she hadn't made too many friends since arriving in the metropolis. He had got progressively more possessive, however, and when, after one particularly tiresome evening with his yuppy friends at a party which had got more and more outrageous as the alcohol level had risen, she had had to fight off his amorous advances in the back of his Porsche, she had vowed 'never again'. He hadn't accepted the rebuff at all well and had pursued her ever since, sending regular quantities of hothouse flowers to her flat and even proposing marriage on his last impromptu visit, producing a ring which was as ostentatious as the man himself. The whole situation was becoming embarrassing, and just a little frightening of late. Maybe it would be a good idea in the circumstances to see Marshall after all? She had brought the card to work, intending to ring the number scrawled in one corner and refuse the invitation, but now she hesitated thoughtfully. If nothing else an evening out with

another man might be the means of convincing Greg that there really was no hope, and there wasn't another male on the scene who could help. Greg made sure of that. She had been furious to learn just the day before from one of the girls in the office that he had warned Mike and Dave, the only other unattached males around, that she was his. She dropped the card back into her bag, decision made. No doubt Marshall just wanted to see the daughter of his late friend for an evening out with no strings attached for old times' sake. Well, that suited her. It irked her that she was falling in with his plans, but she had an ulterior motive that he knew nothing about and that thought gave her a little dart of pleasure. He used women often enough. It was her turn to give him a taste of his own medicine now even if he would never know anything about it. She nodded sharply to herself. She found she was inexpressibly nervous later that evening as she dressed. She had had a fraught telephone conversation with Greg earlier, when he had expressed a desire to call round and she had told him she was going out, which had done nothing for her equilibrium, and now her bed was piled high with clothes, shoes and bags scattered randomly on the small patch of carpet. She eventually decided on what had been her first choice, a simple black suit in padded silk with a pale gold blouse of the same material underneath. She left her wavy red- gold hair loose to soften the severe line of the jacket, adding long gold earrings and a simple gold bracelet to complete the outfit. 'You'll have to do.' She spoke to her reflection in the mirror sternly. 'And stop looking as though you've just been sentenced to death, girl. Where's that backbone?' Quivering pathetically, her mind answered her, and she took a deep breath as the small intercom just inside the front door buzzed importantly. Oh, help, she wasn't ready for this.

'Yes?' She flicked the switch back to hear the reply. 'Good evening, Kelsey.' Even the crackling line couldn't hide the magic of that low, deep, rich voice and her stomach took a dive into her feet. Why on earth had she persuaded herself to accept this invitation with a man she disliked and despised anyway? Greg suddenly seemed infinitely unimportant. 'Stop panicking, Kelsey,' she whispered to herself quickly. 'Perhaps he's grown fat or boring or—' 'Shall I come up?' his voice asked patiently. She took a deep breath and replied brightly into the small machine. 'Yes of course, please do. Third floor, flat fourteen.' Just one evening, it was only one evening. She shut her eye§ as she heard the lift whir to a halt on her floor and then there was silence for a second before the expected hard knock on the door. She took a long deep breath. 'Hello.' As she opened the door she had to raise her gaze up to meet his dark eyes, in which a small flame was glowing. She had forgotten how tall he was, but he was just the same, even more attractive if anything. The long, lean body was relaxed and easy and the hard face just as handsome, the cold autocratic features vitally male. Her stomach did a somersault. 'You're as beautiful as I remember, Kelsey, and... very grown up.' There was a message in the enigmatic wording that she chose to ignore. He really was just the same! 'I should hope so.' She smiled carefully but didn't dare move. Her legs felt most peculiar. 'I'm a career woman now, you know.' She waved him in with a shaking hand.

'Ah, yes.' He moved slowly just inside the room and she shut the door before turning to face him again. 'Interior design, I understand? So the college work did pay off?' 'Yes, it did.' He towered over her in spite of her four- inch heels, and the fact caused a little glimmer of resentment although she couldn't have explained why. 'Did you doubt it would?' He was getting under her skin already! 'Not at all,' he said easily. 'I'm sure you're very bright.' 'Yes, I am,' she agreed coldly, her face straight, hating the implied condescension in his lazy voice. His eyes narrowed as they took in the defiant tilt to her head, and just for a moment she could have sworn a small smile touched the firm mouth. How she djsliked this man. 'Is this a rented flat?' His piercing glance took in the tiny rooms in one sweeping motion, pausing briefly as he looked at the laden bed through the half-open door. Damn! She should have shut that. 'Yes. We haven't all got money to burn.' His eyebrows rose slightly at her tart tone, but he didn't respond to the gibe and she felt somewhat ashamed of herself after the words had left her lips. He would think she was a real shrew! Still, his opinion was of no importance. He had no right to look down on her little home. 'You're doing marvellously. My first place was one room with a shared bathroom..' His magnanimity made her feel even more wretched, and for the first time in years she felt completely out of her depth. Why had he contacted her again? She had been doing fine till now. Suddenly everything was upside-down and round about. 'Shall we go?' Belatedly she remembered she should have offered him a drink, but it was too late now. She nodded jerkily and reached

for her bag. This was going to be worse than she had thought. She should never have accepted his invitation. His car was dark and long and powerful, very much in keeping with the man himself, Kelsey thought wryly as she slid gracefully into the plush interior. Her legs felt as though they belonged to her again although her stomach kept giving funny little jumps every time she caught a glance from those narrowed brown eyes. He joined her in the car and settled himself into his seat without making any attempt to start the engine. 'You've quite taken my breath away, you know.' She stared at him in silent amazement, thinking she must have misheard the quiet voice. 'I beg your pardon?' He turned to face her, resting both hands on the leather-clad steering-wheel. 'I said you have taken my breath away, and I don't indulge in meaningless compliments, in case you were wondering.' 'Oh.' For the second time in minutes she felt completely at a loss and no light reply sprang to mind. 'Thank you.' 'You were exceptionally lovely four years ago, but now...' He shook his dark head slowly. 'I wasn't prepared to see you so matured. You look quite exquisite tonight, Kelsey.' She flushed a vivid scarlet as his eyes bored into her face tightly. 'It's probably just the clothes...' Stupid comment! Stupid, stupid, stupid! But he was so darn smooth and self-assured! He gave that sudden sharp bark of laughter that she remembered from all those years ago. 'I've embarrassed you, haven't I? I apologise. It was not intentional. I suffer from a failing of speaking my mind, as you probably remember.'

'Oh, yes, I remember,' she said acidly, her face straight. He looked at her silently for a long moment and then shook his head slowly. 'Yes, I thought you might.' She dropped her eyes as the shared glance became painful. "The red is still there.' He lifted a strand of golden hair from her shoulder and let it wind round one finger. 'I've never seen hair that combines two colours so distinctly.' 'My grandmother had it, apparently.' She answered automatically, willing her flesh not to shake as he gently placed his hand beneath her neck, lifting up the heavy fold of hair and watching it shimmer back into place. His expression was unreadable but it was turning her insides into melted jelly. She had an inkling now as to why his women tolerated the conditions he put on his relationships. His magnetism was as subtle as it was lethal and fascinatingly seductive, but she wasn't fooled for a minute! She knew the real Marshall. The image of Anna was still very vivid in her mind. He was as dangerous as a loaded gun and just as risky to play with. 'What thoughts are making those warm lips tight?' He had started the engine and his voice was amused as he turned to check behind him before turning out into the busy street. The movement caused her to catch a whiff of that delicious smell that was peculiar to him and the memories crowded in as though it were yesterday, although this time she was the woman in his life, if only for a night, and she wasn't going to let her guard down for a minute. Out loud she forced her voice to be cool and contained as she replied to his question, although her hands were clenched fists in her lap and her pulse was racing. 'I just wondered if you still see Anna?' 'Anna?' His profile was puzzled. 'Who's Anna?' 'The woman who was with you that last weekend at the cottage.'

'Was that her name?' He wrinkled his brow in an effort to remember. 'I don't know what became of her; does it matter? It was a long time ago.' Many women ago more like, she thought silently. 'And a lot of water has passed under your particular bridge?' She had intended to be nonchalant but he caught the condemnation in her tone and smiled lazily, his eyes on the traffic. 'I gather you're referring to my love-life?' She didn't reply and he shrugged casually. 'I haven't lived like a monk in the last few years, if that's what you mean. I've dated women, yes. And how about you?' He paused slightly. 'Anyone special at the moment?' 'No.' She looked out of the window at the passing scenery. They had left the bright lights behind and were travelling along a dimly lit avenue that was deserted and still. 'Not at the moment.' Her voice was purposely dismissive. 'There's been someone, then?' His voice was still offhand, but she sensed the answer was important to him in some way and answered carefully. This was nothing to do with him! 'I saw someone from work for a while but that's finished with now. I certainly wouldn't have termed him special.' 'I see.' His voice was dry. 'I'm not likely to get my nose punched by an irate boyfriend, then?' She slanted a quick glance at him from under thick lashes. 'I can't see anyone managing to punch you on the nose, Marshall.' 'No?' He glanced at her briefly. 'Is that good or do you prefer the helpless type?' 'I don't have a "type".' Unlike you, she thought balefully.

'Don't you really?' He drove in silence for a few miles. 'This...nonspecial someone from work. Does he feel the same way about you?' 'Not exactly.' She flushed and was glad of the concealing darkness to hide her colour. 'He's been a bit of a pest, as it happens, but it'll sort itself out.' Why couldn't he leave it alone? 'Poor devil,' he commented drily with quizzical cynicism. 'Heartbroken, is he? I told you you'd be responsible for breaking a few hearts.' She felt a surge of anger deep inside. 'It wasn't like that,' she protested vehemently, but then subsided into silence. Hang on a minute! She wasn't going to allow him to play the inquisitor like this; it was none of his business. He wasn't even a friend—far from it! 'Hmm...' He glanced at her again as they turned into a quiet and very exclusive suburb. 'So to all extents and purposes you are footloose and fancy-free at the moment. I'd better make the most of the opportunity before the wind blows.' 'I'm not quite the coquette you are suggesting,' she said stiffly as her amber eyes sparked dangerously. He was just as maddening as she remembered, and twice as arrogant. She felt him glance at her thoughtfully, but he made no further comment and they drove in silence until some lights in the distance revealed themselves as a large and very superior hotel. 'Have you eaten here before?' She shook her head in answer and he made an exclamation of satisfaction. 'Good. I like to bring...people here for the first time. The food is out of this world.' The brief hesitation before 'people' was not lost on her over-sensitive ears and she felt a quick pang of resentment. Substitute 'women', she thought angrily. It was indescribably galling to realise she was one of a long line. The realisation stiffened her backbone and brought her head

up. Right, Mr Marshall Henderson. She would enjoy this evening for what it was worth and then that would be that. Dining in such luxury would be a pleasant experience if nothing else. The thought brought a slight smile to her lips. 'I would dearly love to know what you're thinking right now.' She hadn't been aware that he was looking at her, and suddenly realised they had slid to a halt while she had been lost in thought. He uncoiled his long body smoothly out of his seat and had moved round the car and opened her door before she had a chance to reply. 'I'm glad you accepted my invitation tonight, honeybee.' He held on to her hand after he had helped her out of the car and swung her gently to face him, his dark eyes hooded as he lifted her chin with one hand and looked deeply into her wide eyes. 'I've waited a long time for this evening.' 'Have you?' The touch of his hands burnt her flesh and she was vitally aware that the air of decisiveness about him bordered on cold arrogance. She suddenly wished with all her heart that she hadn't come. She was playing with fire, and burns were painful. The use of the old pet name had lit an immediate response she was determined to hide, and it horrified her. She was more sure than ever that she thoroughly disliked him, but his attractiveness was disturbing. She had forgotten how disturbing. She smiled coolly. 'I doubt that somehow.' His lips twitched with barely suppressed humour. 'Your face says it all! Well, I'll just have to find some way to convince you I mean what I say, won't I?' The lazily mocking words teased at her as he led her up the wide marble steps with a light guiding hand on her arm, and into the discreetly elegant foyer.

'Would you care for a cocktail first or prefer to go through to our table?' He indicated a lavishly furnished restaurant in front of them. 'There's no rush.' 'A cocktail, then?' She gave a brittle smile. 'It's not every day I'm on the verge of being twenty-one.' 'Twenty-one.' He shook his head slowly. 'Oh, those poor men out there.' He meant it as a compliment but it grated unbearably. 'I'm quite sure you don't do too badly yourself with the female line,' she had responded instinctively before she had time to think about her words, and the dark eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he shot her a discerning glance. 'Is that right?' he said steadily as he led her into the long cocktail bar to their left. 'And what do you know about such things?' She shrugged awkwardly and looked up to find a mocking twist to the firm lips. 'You are still determined to disapprove of me, aren't you? Well, perhaps that isn't a bad thing at that.' A waiter appeared at Marshall's elbow and coughed discreetly. 'Good evening, Mr Henderson, it's nice to see you again. Have you brought the young lady to try one of my "specials"?' Marshall smiled warmly at the small middle-aged man. 'Hello, John. Definitely two of your specials, but make Miss Hope's a little less lethal than usual.' He lifted his eyebrows as he turned back to Kelsey with a smile that she felt was meant to charm. 'You are easily lulled into a false sense of security with John's specials. The kick arrives just when you think you are winning.' 'One of your seduction techniques?' She smiled sweetly as she spoke but the barb hit its target as she had intended it should.

His eyes crinkled with laughter and she had that infuriating feeling that he was finding her immensely amusing. 'Believe me, my angry little honey-bee, if I want a woman I need no help from John's specials or anything else to further my ends.' 'You don't?' She had tried to make her voice sarcastic but it came out on a breathless little whisper. 'I don't,' he intoned obliquely. She sank down on to her stool with all the aplomb she could muster and glanced round her with a poise she was far from feeling. It was an amazing room. A huge glass circular bar took up most of the space with high thickly padded stools all around it, and she counted at least a dozen waiters in smart uniforms dancing attendance On the richly dressed patrons, who sat quietly talking and drinking in sedate harmony. The whole of the. back wall was a giant aquarium full of exotic fish and plants that appeared several times larger than their natural size due to the thickness of the glass. 'Here we are, miss.' She took a tiny sip of the madly flamboyant cocktail the smiling John had just placed in front of her. It tasted deliciously of banana and orange, and she thought she detected gin in the pale pink depths and some other flavour that had a slightly bitter tang to it. 'It's lovely.' She turned smiling eyes up to the silent waiter, who was waiting for her verdict. 'Absolutely delicious. What's in it?' 'State secret, miss.' He gave her a beaming smile as he turned away, and she looked at Marshall, who had watched the little exchange with cynical amusement colouring his dark eyes. 'I think you've made a hit there.' His voice was tinged with lazy mockery and she bridled instantly.

'He has to be nice to the customers; it's his job.' 'It's not often he gets one as young or beautiful as you. Most of the people who use his bar are a little... blase.' 'Like you?' She tried for coolness but her voice was sharp. 'Probably,' he agreed laconically. 'Why so defensive, Kelsey?' There was a subtle change in his tone and the dark gaze was probing. 'Do I constitute such a threat?' 'Of course not.' She had answered too quickly and too vehemently. His laugh was low and faintly seductive as he leant forward and touched his lips briefly against her temple. 'Calm yourself, child,' he said mockingly. 'This was meant as a pleasant evening out, nothing more and nothing less. I would like to think you were enjoying it.' She glanced at him warily and he caught the look, raising one sardonic eyebrow slowly. 'I'm not going to eat you alive, Kelsey— it's not my style.' There was a chill to the deep voice now and his eyes had darkened slightly. 'Of course you aren't,' she agreed brightly. 'I'm sure you have had all the dessert you need for the moment.' She could have kicked herself as soon as the words were out. For a moment he looked slightly perplexed and then as slow realisation dawned the expression on his face became unreadable. 'What a good little memory you have, my sweet,' he drawled amiably after a long moment. 'I can see I am going to have to be careful of what I say in the future. It may be written down and used as evidence against me.'

Her lashes swept down, hiding her eyes from his piercing gaze, but she could feel his glance was still on her and the silence became deafening. 'Would you like another drink?' His voice was quiet and conversational. 'No, thank you, not if they're as potent as you say.' 'Wise girl.' His eyes gleamed with hidden amusement. 'Would you care to go through to our table now? I have to admit I'm getting hungry.' He slid calmly off his stool. 'Yes, of course.' She had never felt less like eating in her life as they walked into the restaurant, where another waiter appeared immediately at Marshall's elbow, greeting him by name with a deference that was flattering. She couldn't help noticing the way his very presence seemed to generate attention. He was clearly a man used to having what he wanted, his authority unquestioning and absolute. Besides the charm there was a male magnetism that immediately separated him from the other men present like a wolf among domesticated dogs. After the waiter had led them to their table and placed the large embossed menus in their hands he melted away again. 'Would you like me to order?' It was all in French and her smattering of that language couldn't cope. She raised cool eyes to his waiting face. She would have to say yes. 'Yes, please.' She glanced round the room again, noticing a tiny dance-floor, behind which a small band was playing quietly. 'Greg never brought you here, then?' She raised startled eyes to his dark face as her mind raced back to their conversation. 'I don't remember telling you his name.'

'You didn't.' He was quite unperturbed. 'Your mother has given me the odd progress report through the years, and in the last few months he figured pretty heavily.' 'So you knew about him?' The rest of the content of his last sentence she determined to think about later. 'Why did you pretend earlier?' That was just like him! 'I didn't pretend,' he answered quietly. 'I just gave you the chance to tell me yourself, which you did.' The ebony eyes dared her to contradict him. 'Ruth seemed surprised he dropped so suddenly from the scene—she was waiting to meet him.' 'She didn't have to fight him off in the back of a car, did she?' For a moment he was quite still and then he leant forward, his voice even but his face deadly. 'Did he hurt you?' She shook her head dumbly, unnerved by the savagery on his face. 'Are you sure?' 'No, it was all right.' She stuttered slightly as she spoke; she hadn't expected such a violent reaction. 'Just a little humiliating, that's all. That's when I finished it.' 'You didn't tell Ruth?' There was censure in his tone. She shook her head slowly. 'It seemed the best thing at the time; she worries so.' 'You tell her when you go home tomorrow.' It was a terse order. She looked at him in surprise. 'I don't think—' 'Don't think, just do as you're told.' She stared at him as her temper rose. This was her life they were talking about!

'No,' she refused baldly. 'Don't argue with me, Kelsey. Your mother is neither a child nor an idiot and she deserves a proper explanation. I gather he'll be at your party tomorrow with the rest of your work colleagues, and at the very least you should do her the courtesy of being able to adjust her attitude accordingly.' 'It's nothing to do with you.' Her voice was a low hiss. 'Of course it is.' His voice was ominously quiet and she realised she was seeing the other side of him, the side that had made him a virtual millionaire at thirty. 'Now do you tell your mother or shall I?' There was steel in his voice. 'Oh, for goodness' sake!' She glared at him in impotent anger. 'It's my life.' She spoke her previous thought. 'Exactly so, and you are handling it extremely badly.' She felt as though she could hit him. 'You are old enough to know that this man is crazy about you; Ruth informs me he has even phoned her home once or twice looking for you. If you want him, fine. If not then your mother should be told why before you are put in a position you can't handle. The next time you might not be able to fight him off.' His eyes were chips of marble. 'I can handle him.' Even as she spoke the words she knew she was lying. Greg had become increasingly forceful since that night in his car, and as she remembered his hot mouth and hard, groping hands she gave a little shiver, her face unintentionally eloquent to the searching eyes of the man watching her. 'Kelsey.' He leant forward again and took her hand in his, idly turning it over and running his fingers across the soft palm. 'I'm not wasting our evening arguing about this clown. I don't like the sort of man who uses his strength as a weapon to get what he wants. Now

you'll do as you're told. Understand?' There was no warmth in the cold, hard face and her eyes were wide as they stared into his and saw what they contained. He was angry, furiously angry. A shiver fluttered down her spine and she hated herself, and him, for it. 'Oh, all right,' she muttered ungraciously as she tried to release her hand from his grasp. His touch was causing her toes to curl. 'You promise?' His voice was unrelenting and she nodded sulkily. 'I promise,' she said woodenly. 'Good.' He settled back in his seat again as though they had been discussing the weather, the lazy, laconic expression she was used to veiling his face. The waiter appeared in the next minute, and as Marshall ordered the wine and food her heartbeat slowly returned to normal. She listened to him as he exchanged sophisticated small talk with the man, and with a little start of horror it came to her that she was frightened of him. Not in the normal sense, and she didn't understand why or how; she just knew with a dreadful feeling of certainty that this man was more dangerous than a hundred Gregs and there was something in him that was drawing her relentlessly into his orbit.

CHAPTER THREE 'I MEANT what I said earlier.' Kelsey was halfway through the first course and was finding Marshall's confidence in the food well founded. The fish and almond canapes on their small bed of crisp green salad melted in the mouth and she had suddenly rediscovered her appetite. 'I'm sorry?' 'When I said I had waited a long time for this evening,' he said patiently, running his finger absent- mindedly round the top of his tall fluted wine glass as he spoke. 'I don't understand.' She looked at him warily. 'Why did you want to see me again?' She didn't really want to know. 'Curiosity, I guess,' he answered softly, his dark eyes wandering over her hair as the light played on the red- gold strands. 'Curiosity?' She raised her chin proudly. 'Yes, why not? You didn't expect me to say I was madly in love with you, did you?' The caustic note jarred slightly. 'Of course not,' she said coldly. 'That would be the very last thing I would ever expect you to say.' 'You haven't got a very high opinion of me, have you?' he asked silkily as his eyes darkened into glowing coal. 'Is there any reason why I should have?' He looked at her for a long moment and then gave a negligent shrug. 'You know, I'm beginning to wonder if I should have likened you to

a wasp rather than a bee. A bee is such a nice little creature, don't you think? All soft fur and beautiful transparent wings.' She glared at him with such ferocity that he laughed out loud, his eyes wicked. 'Yes, definitely a wasp.' She had almost finished the wafer-thin escalopes of veal, mixed vegetables and tiny roast potatoes that constituted the second course when the slight unease that had been growing for some minutes crystallised. She had been aware from the moment they were seated that several women's eyes strayed a little too often to their table, although Marshall, to give him his due, seemed quite oblivious of the overt attention. But now the source of her present disquiet became apparent when one female, more attractive than the rest, made a bold bid for his attention by half rising in her seat as he glanced generally in her direction and waving pointedly. She saw him stiffen and raise his hand briefly in answer, and as he did so an expression of such blatant longing sharpened the lovely feline face that Kelsey flushed with embarrassment for the woman's dinner companion, a tall blond man with a dark scowl marring his goodlooking face. 'An old friend?' Try as she might Kelsey couldn't keep the thread of sarcasm from colouring her voice. 'Quite so.' His voice was silky-smooth but she could tell the redhead's brazenness had annoyed him as his eyes turned inky dark and narrowed slightly. 'Would you like to dance while we wait for dessert?' he asked coolly. She gazed at him across the table, her amber eyes cold and withdrawn in the soft, subdued lighting. She didn't want to dance with him and yet she did, dreadfully. She felt uncomfortably confused and at odds with herself and quite irrationally angry.

'Come on.' He reached across the table and took her hand, pulling her up into the crook of his arm. She was beyond speech as he led her on to the small dance-floor, her whole being vitally aware that in a few seconds she would be in his arms for the second time in her life. She had made no impact on him the first time and she suddenly desperately wanted this time to be different. He was so in control, so relaxed; nothing seemed to really touch him. He drew her gently into his arms, his movements sure and unhurried, and they moved together as though they had been partners for years. As the tempo of the music changed and a slow, dreamy waltz sent its lingering notes into the air he pulled her closer into his body with gentle mastery, his nearness disruptively sensual. She found she was shaking against his big hard body and prayed he wouldn't notice, excitingly conscious of every square inch of the powerful male physique that she was following so closely. 'This was worth waiting for.' He looked down at her with a small smile pulling at his mouth. 'Why did I wait so long?' She opened her mouth to make some flippant comment, but the words died on her lips as she looked into his face, and when his mouth touched hers in a light warm kiss she was powerless to resist, her response involuntary. He didn't prolong the embrace, lifting his head and drawing her back against his chest almost immediately, but she felt totally devastated. She mustn't respond to him, not for a second. She knew what he was like, for goodness' sake; she had no excuse. He used his women for his own pleasure and they meant nothing, less than nothing to him. But it was strangely thrilling to be in his arms, to be held against his slow heartbeat, to feel— 'Marsh, darling...' The low female voice was as sweet as honey with a dry, sexy huskiness in its depths that gave it a quality all of its own. Kelsey knew who it was before she even lifted her head.

The redhead and her partner were standing by their side, and it was to the man Marshall spoke, offering his hand immediately while keeping one arm loosely round Kelsey's back. 'Hi, Kent. Good to see you. When did you get back?' 'Last week.' There was a deep red flush staining the fair skin, and Kelsey noticed the man's eyes darted suspiciously to the woman at his side and then back to Marshall's cool face. 'Didn't you know?' 'Is there any reason why I should?' Marshall's voice was casual, and after a long moment Kent seemed to relax and took the hand Marshall offered with a tight, jerky nod. 'Guess not.' 'You haven't introduced us, Marsh, baby. Who is this darling girl you've kept hidden so discreetly?' Marshall turned to survey the redhead slowly, and there was a look in the piercing dark eyes that made Kelsey swallow. 'Kelsey is an old friend,' he said evenly. 'I knew her father years ago. Kelsey, meet Jade and Kent. Kent and Jade, Kelsey.' His voice was dismissive and the woman's slanted eyes narrowed into chips of blue glass, giving the small face an even more cat-like aspect which added to, rather than detracted from, her sensual beauty. 'Don't you mean "young friend," darling?' She laughed lightly but the hard eyes were poisonous as she touched Kelsey's silk-clad arm for a moment with long red-tipped talons. 'I must warn you, sweetheart, watch your step. He's the original big bad wolf and he's looking hungry.' 'Jade!' The man jerked her arm roughly, bringing her swinging round to face him, and turned apologetically to Marshall, whose cold face could have been set in stone. 'I'm sorry, Marshall; she isn't herself tonight.'

'On the contrary.' Marshall's voice held a mixture of cynical understanding and searing contempt. 'This is the real Jade, Kent. Take a long hard look.' 'Why, you—' As the redhead raised her hand to strike, Marshall captured it in his iron fist without his eyes leaving the white face of the man in front of him. 'Take her home, Kent.' His voice was weary, and for a moment the two men exchanged a glance, communicating something that was only understood by themselves. Kent swung round at last with a slight nod and left the dance-floor, almost dragging the petulant Jade behind him. She turned at the last moment to give Marshall a venomous glance full of a strange twisted hunger, and Kelsey shuddered. The woman unnerved her. 'I'm sorry.' He caught her chin in his hand, bringing her face round to meet his eyes, which were hooded and cool. 'I had no idea they would be here tonight. I thought they were still on honeymoon.' 'Honeymoon?' Kelsey stared at him aghast as he drew her into his arms again, and strained back slightly in order to look up into his face. 'What do you mean, honeymoon?' 'I gather it's one of the strange practices that we humans indulge in after a certain ceremony,' he said coldly as his eyes flashed across her incredulous face. 'I know what a honeymoon is,' she hissed furiously, ignoring his unspoken warning not to pursue the conversation. 'What I don't understand is why that woman has just got married.' 'You find it surprising?' he asked remotely. 'Yes, I certainly do.' She withdrew an infinitesimal amount further from his embrace as her skin shivered, but he felt the slight

movement and the firm mouth hardened ominously. 'It's perfectly obvious she's crazy about you.' 'She has a strange way of showing it,' he said dispassionately. 'Or perhaps you think striking someone shows affection?' 'Don't try and twist my words, Marshall.' They had stopped pretending to dance now, and she stood loosely in his arms. 'She was clearly upset to see you with me; why else would she cause such a scene? And the fact that they've just got married! Well, I find it all—' 'I really don't think it's any of your concern.' He moved her firmly out of his arms as he spoke and his eyes were icy. 'And I certainly have no intention of discussing personal matters in the middle of a dance-floor. I think we'll return to our table,' He guided her back to their seats with a casual hand in the small of her back as her cheeks burnt with hot colour. His apparent imperturbability was utterly infuriating. He acted as though she were in the wrong! 'Now.' He held her gaze steadily across the table. 'You are probably entitled to an explanation after such an embarrassing scene, but please spare me the homespun, philosophy.' She raised her head and looked at him coolly, which took all her will-power. What she would really have liked to do was to empty the contents of her wine glass over the top of his head. 'Jade was a liaison that got a little...messy.' She watched him silently without speaking. 'We knew each other a couple of years ago and had fun for a time, but then she suddenly decided it was imperative that she have a ring on her finger before she was much older and I'm afraid I had no intention of obliging. Kent had always been around as far as I can gather; she seemed to use him something like an adoring puppy most of the time.' He shook his dark head in disgust. 'He's a rich young man and had all the necessary qualifications as far

as Jade was concerned, so...' he refilled their wine glasses before continuing '...she married him.' 'Oh, I see,' she said slowly. A marriage of convenience. 'I doubt it.' His voice was sardonic. 'I had given them my blessing and obviously stayed out of their orbit once they were engaged, but Kent seems to have taken a peculiar dislike to me for some reason.' He eyed her cynically. 'Jade made it virtually impossible for me to refuse the wedding invitation and at the reception she intimated that she would like to see me on her return from...holiday. It was necessary to be somewhat brutal in the finish.' He shrugged. 'End of story.' 'But she loves you, Marshall,' she said in shocked disgust. 'She doesn't know the meaning of the word.' 'But—' 'Please, Kelsey.' He was clearly trying to, be patient. 'Jade moves in a world that is quite different from yours, with different codes and morals. She's hard and she's clever and that's how she survives.' Kelsey stared at him with eyes full of distaste and he smiled slowly, but it wasn't a pleasant smile. 'I'm not saying I particularly like it, but that's the way it is. Now, believe it or not, I do actually have a code of ethics by which I live my life, and I have never taken anything or anyone that is not mine.' Her eyes mirrored her thoughts and he settled back in his seat with a small sigh, one eyebrow raised in quizzical amusement. 'I see you don't believe it.' 'I didn't say that.'

'You didn't have to.' He looked at her thoughtfully. 'Is it just me or are you usually so antagonistic with the male sex? I'm amazed Greg had the courage to ask you out in the first place.' 'You can leave him out of this!' She glared at him angrily. He needn't tiy and turn this all around to his benefit. 'Willingly.' 'You're just the same, aren't you?' She threw caution to the wind. 'You haven't changed at all.' She glared at him. 'It's very nice of you to say so.' He was being deliberately provocative and by the look of it enjoying every moment. 'You know what I mean,' she said indignantly. 'One woman after another, treating them all like dirt—' She stopped as cold, dark anger tautened the handsome features, sending a shiver of fear down her spine. 'Be careful, Kelsey.' He was breathing heavily. 'A man can only take so much. You have absolutely no idea how I run my life so please don't moralise.' 'I know enough to feel sickened,' she said wildly. He made no comment, merely staring at her quietly while the silence between them lengthened and her heart threatened to jump out of her body. Why had she said that? What was the matter with her? She had never behaved like this in her life. A little of her confusion and distress must have shown in her face because after a few minutes he settled back in his seat, the anger leaving his face and his body relaxing. 'I'm sorely tempted to give your delightful posterior a thoroughly good smack.' 'What?' She stared at him in horror.

'I always told David there was a lot of truth in the old adage "spare the rod and spoil the child",' he said musingly, 'and it appears I've been proved right, as usual.' 'You dare, just you dare...' 'Don't tempt me further, Kelsey.' His eyes were dark and glittering. 'You're behaving like a spoilt child and I'm on the verge of treating you like one.' She flung back her head angrily, turning her hair into rippling gold, and his eyes followed the gesture, something burning deep in their black depths that caused her heart to turn over. 'Just because I haven't fallen into your arms like all your other women?' He stared at her, his face enigmatic. 'In the first place you are not one of my women; it's usually customary to wait to be asked.' She flushed bright pink but before she could reply he went on, 'And in the second place you seem to have a rather extreme, not to say uncomplimentary, view of my prowess with the opposite sex.' 'I hate you.' 'Disgust, horror and now hate. I really do seem able to inspire strong emotion in you, don't I?' he said thoughtfully. 'You know, I had no idea this would prove to be such an entertaining evening. You've grown up into quite a handful, Miss Hope. Where, I wonder, is the man who will be brave enough to tame you?' 'Go to hell.' 'I've been there—I didn't like it.' For an instant something flashed in his eyes that caused her eyes to widen in shock. She must have been mistaken, she told herself shakily; he was too hard, too cold to feel the naked agony that had been etched on those handsome features for one brief second.

'Ah, dessert.' The cool, bland mask had settled back over his features as he thanked the waiter, who carefully placed their plates in front of them. She stared at him numbly. Yes, of course she had imagined it, a trick of the light or some such thing. 'Eat up, honey-bee, it's delicious.' He smiled quietly at her as he spoke as though their previous conversation had been a dream, and she dipped her spoon into the rich chocolate fudge cake covered in thick fresh cream with something akin to helplessness flooding her mind. He really was the most extraordinary man; the sooner this amazing evening was ended and she was safe back home the happier she would be! 'Coffee?' He brought her sharply out of her reverie, and she was annoyed to see that she had been so engrossed in her thoughts that she had consumed most of the dessert without tasting it. 'Thank you.' She nodded coolly, quelling the apprehension that had settled on her like a soft grey cloud. The evening was nearly over and she needn't see him again; she doubted if she would get the chance anyway! The thought touched her mouth in a wry smile. Why did he disturb her so? She couldn't understand herself and she didn't like it. The drive home was conducted in almost total silence, but far from finding it relaxing Kelsey found her nerves were stretched to breaking-point. The car was too intimate and he was too close. The tangy, elusive smell of him invaded her senses and she was vitally aware of the powerful, controlled hands on the wheel and the long, muscled legs stretched out by her side. As they arrived back at the flats he brought the big car to a smooth standstill, and she felt a strange curling sensation in the pit of her stomach as he turned slowly towards her, his face in shadow. She wanted him to kiss her! The thought made her stiffen with self-disgust even as she recognised it.

'It's all right, I'm not going to leap on you,' he said lazily, mistaking her rigidity for nervousness. 'Thank you for a lovely evening,' she said politely as her heart thudded painfully against her chest. 'It was most enjoyable.' 'What a little liar you are.' There was a deep throb of amusement in the laconic voice and a mocking twist to the firm hps. Her head jerked back as she stared at him in the darkness. 'You're just, just—' 'Spare me.' His eyes gleamed with hidden laughter. 'I really couldn't take any more verbal lashings tonight.' He opened his door and moved round to the passenger side swiftly, helping her out and standing just in front of her as she looked up at him in the moonlight. He looked very big and very dark, and her whole body was tinglingly alive. 'Goodnight, Kelsey.' He bent and touched his lips to her cheek and she almost stamped her foot in disappointment. He wasn't going to leave, was he? Without kissing her properly? She might never see him again, and she wanted to know... Her mind stopped and then ran on. She wanted to know if it would feel as devastating as the last time, when she had felt his lips on hers every night for weeks, tossing and turning in her bed as sleep eluded her and her seventeenyear-old body had mocked her. 'Goodnight.' Her voice was weak. He had walked back to the car, and as it purred softly into life the window whirred down and he called her softly. 'I haven't forgotten your present, by the way. I'm bringing it tomorrow.' 'Tomorrow?' She stared at him blankly. 'Ruth's invited me to join in the festivities. Didn't you know?'

'No, I didn't.' She had been right all along. Her mother was matchmaking again. Ruth seemed to take it as a personal affront if Kelsey didn't have a man in tow, and she had told her daughter several times over the last few months that she had been married at twenty-one. She always had considered Marshall the best thing since creamed cheese! 'Does my presence meet with your approval?' The dark voice was dry. 'Yes, no, I mean—' 'Make up your mind which it is and tell me when I arrive,' he said smoothly, his face an enigmatic mask. He was gone before she could reply, leaving her standing in the dim light just inside the foyer of the building with her mouth half open.

The next day dawned bright and sunny and she made the hour's journey to her mother's home in blinding sunlight, the back seat of the car piled high with cards which had arrived in the morning's post. » As she drew into the long winding drive she could see the caterers already busily putting up the marquee on the lawn outside the front of the house, and reflected, not for the first time, that her father's astute financial investments had proved a life-saver for his widow. Not only could her mother remain in the gracious family home that she loved so much, but her father had provided her with a hefty monthly income that had taken all the worry out of day-to-day living. 'Oh, Dad.' She paused for a moment as she drew up outside the large front door, her gaze sweeping across the smooth lawn surrounded by mature old trees and brightly flowering bushes. 'I miss you so.'

The sweet, heavy perfume of the climbing roses clinging to the mellow stone of the house welcomed her as she slid out of the car with her arms full of cards, and the warm air was scented with late summer. 'Kelsey!' Her mother engulfed her in a tight bear-hug as she opened the door, as though she hadn't seen her for two years rather than two weeks. 'You look wonderful, darling.' They caught up on the latest news over several cups of coffee while Kelsey opened the pile of cards and packages waiting for her, and then the rest of the morning flew by in a whirl of organisation and frenzied activity. By mid-afternoon everything was ready for the fifty or so guests who were due to arrive later that evening, and after the caterers had left, promising to return in plenty of time for the night's celebrations, both women collapsed in an exhausted heap. 'Did you enjoy yourself last night?' Ruth asked with studied casualness as they drank yet another cup of coffee, sitting in the cushioned hammock swing just outside the open french doors of the drawing-room. 'So-so.' Kelsey shrugged offhandedly. She had no intention of discussing Marshall with her mother. They just weren't on the same wave-length concerning the man. 'Only so-so?' Ruth raised her eyebrows in wry disbelief. 'Don't tell me you prefer this Greg to a real man like Marshall?' 'Ah, Greg.' Kelsey looked at her mother, quickly remembering her promise to Marshall. 'Now I've something to tell you about him, actually.' Her mother took the disclosure far better than Kelsey had expected, although her soft mouth tightened into a grim line and her blue eyes were unusually hard by the time Kelsey had finished.

'Nothing at all happened,' Kelsey reassured her quietly, 'but I've no intention of tempting fate a second time.' 'I shouldn't think so.' Her mother looked at her with a small frown wrinkling her brow. 'It's a pity he's coming tonight. I suppose working for his father makes things difficult?' 'I couldn't invite the others and not him,' Kelsey said quickly. 'Besides, it's better for the thing to die a natural death than to have any unpleasantness. I just thought you ought to know so you don't make a fuss of him or anything. Just treat him like the others and leave it like that.' Her mother nodded and stretched tiredly. 'I think I'll go upstairs and have a lie down for an hour if that's all right with you?' she said with a small yawn. 'Fine, you do that,' Kelsey agreed quickly. 'I'll take a rug in the rosegarden, I think. It's so peaceful in there.' Her mother was just disappearing through the french doors when she called after her impulsively. 'Mum?' Ruth turned round enquiringly. 'Marshall. He isn^manied or anything, is he?' 'I think there have been plenty of "anythings",' her mother answered drily, 'but no one seems to last very long with Marshall. He's the eternal bachelor, I'm afraid. Still, he's only thirty, so there's plenty of time.' She looked at her daughter strangely. 'He's a good man really, you know, Kelsey—your father thought the world of him.' My father wasn't a woman, Kelsey thought silently as she gave a non-committal nod. 'He was married once but it didn't last long,' her mother continued thoughtfully. "There was a bit of bother; your father knew all about it...' She smiled in her vague fashion and wandered through the doors out of sight.

Kelsey sat quite still for several minutes, feeling as though she had been punched very hard in the stomach. He had been married? He'd actually been married. She didn't understand why, but a surge of emotion compounded of hurt, disappointment and anger was making her feel sick. He had loved someone enough to ask her to spend the rest of her life with him. But it hadn't lasted long. Her mother's words came back to her with fierce clarity. Perhaps it hadn't meant much to him? Perhaps even marriage had been a game he had tired of quickly, disposing of his wife in the same way he got rid of his girlfriends? Her mind was going round in circles and she shook herself mentally as well as physically as she rose to her feet. Why should she care? It was nothing to do with her, he was nothing to do with her. There was a warm stickiness in the thick air as she settled herself on the soft rug in the tiny rose-garden that had been her father's pride and joy, and the blue sky of the morning had turned a hazy pearlgrey, changing the sun into a distant blurred ball of light. She shaded her eyes as she glanced up into the murky depths; it felt as though a storm was imminent. She lay quietly in the muggy heat, listening to the slow, persistent drone of the insects visiting the fullblown roses and letting the warmth settle over her like a comfortable blanket. Marshall, saying 'I do'. Marshall, looking down at his wife lovingly and holding her close... Stop it, stop it. She pressed her hands to her temple in an effort to blank out the pictures that were forming in her mind. This was crazy; what was the matter with her? He hadn't played a role in her life for years, so what was she getting upset for now? She covered her eyes with her arm as she forced herself to relax, letting the peace of the quiet arbour enfold her in its spell.

She awoke with a little start some time later, and opened cloudy, soft eyes to find Marshall's deep glittering gaze fixed on her face. He was lying indolently beside her, propped on one elbow, his face closed and still. She stared at him for a moment, unsure whether he was merely a figment of her imagination. She seemed to remember she had been dreaming about him. 'Hi.' There was no mistaking that deep, lazy voice and he leant over her for a moment, blotting out the light, as he placed a light kiss on her mouth. 'Happy birthday, Kelsey.' 'Thank you.' She slanted her gaze away from that enigmatic face as she sat up, shaking back the mane of hair that had drifted across her face and taking a deep hidden breath. He was unnervingly close. 'How did you find me in here?' He smiled slowly. 'I usually find what I want.' She shifted slightly as he spoke and her bare leg touched his. A thousand tight nerve-endings jumped in protest and she jerked away before she could control herself. 'I don't bite.' The smile had died and his dark eyes narrowed. 'Not often, anyway.' 'Sorry.' She managed a light laugh but it was a little shaky. 'I'm still half asleep.' 'Ah...' He nodded mockingly. 'I see.' He reached into the pocket of his jeans and brought out a small velvet box. 'I thought I'd bring this now and ask if I'm welcome tonight.' There was a strange note in his voice and she glanced at him warily as she lifted the tiny lid and peered inside. 'Oh, Marshall...' She looked delightedly at the diminutive honey-bee the box held. The brooch was exquisitely worked in glowing gold,

each minute detail picked out perfectly. The small body was a large solitaire diamond and the stone glittered brilliantly in the light of the dying day. 'But I can't accept this; it must have cost you a fortune...' She raised her eyes to his and he smiled quietly. 'I had it specially made for you. There is no one else I would give it to.' 'It's beautiful, thank you...' She reached across to place a grateful kiss on his cheek but he turned at the same instant and her soft lips landed on his mouth. For a moment he was completely still and then his arms went round her, drawing her to him as his mouth plundered hers. His kiss was violent in its intensity, a fierce, hot hunger seeming to take hold of him, ripping the veneer of civilisation away in a second of time. She fell helplessly back on to the rug and the sun was hidden as his mouth moved against hers in burning penetration, seeking the soft, warm interior with hard, sharp thrusts. She was breathless and frightened but even in the midst of her panic she was aware of a deep, fierce response inside her over which she had no control whatsoever. His lips moved feverishly over her closed eyes, exploring her face with tiny kisses before returning to her mouth with renewed hunger. She felt her arms cling tight to his broad back and in the second before he drew away she felt his body stir frantically against her. 'Well, I've had some thank-yous in my time but that's the best so far.' He was trying to pass off the moment with humour but she was too stunned to respond. He looked into her shocked eyes as she sat up slowly and a wry grimace touched his mouth. 'I'm sorry, Kelsey, I seem to be confirming every low opinion you have of me.' Their eyes held for a long moment before she tore her gaze away, letting her thick silky hair fall like a veil between them. It wasn't her

opinion of him that was bothering her at this moment in time. She was amazed, horrified at her total lack of control under his experienced caress. She must be absolutely mad. This was Marshall, cold, hard Marshall, who took what he wanted and then walked away without a backward glance. 'No problem.' She drew on everything she possessed to keep her voice steady. 'It was just a kiss.' She rose as she spoke and kept her gaze on the tiny box. 'Would you like a drink?' 'No, thanks.' He had risen with her and now walked by her side as she left the too intimate arbour to enter the safety of the vast wide lawn outside. 'I must be making tracks if I'm coming back here tonight. I am, aren't I?' He looked at her, his eyes tight on hers. 'That's up to you, isn't it?' she said lightly. 'Everyone's welcome.' She wasn't going to respond to the question in his eyes. His charm was lethal but here was one girl who was determined to keep both feet firmly on the ground. She knew exactly what he had in mind—a brief dalliance for a short time before he grew bored. She had been a little unsure last night but his kiss had confirmed her worst suspicions. She was a novelty, a challenge, something to sharpen his jaded palate, and there was no way she was going to let herself down again. 'In that case I'll see you later.' He glanced at her straight face with a mocking smile and then left her without another word to walk round the side of the house to the drive where his car was parked. She stood and watched as he strode away, his broad, well-muscled body moving with a vibrant vitality that was impossible to ignore. He exuded a dominant animal arrogance that caused a quivering, in her lower stomach and she breathed out slowly, unaware that she had been holding her breath for seconds.

It was going to be difficult to convince him that she didn't have the slightest interest in continuing their old acquaintance, but convince him she must. She suddenly had an acute, and extremely uncomfortable feeling that her very survival depended on it.

CHAPTER FOUR KELSEY had chosen her outfit for the party some weeks before, and now, as she laid it carefully on the bed, she admired it yet again. The sleeveless dress was secured over her shoulders by two wafer-thin straps and the fine silk material was in wonderful shades of gold ranging from deep rust to a soft pale amber. The skirt fell in full swirling folds to mid-calf length and the matching jacket was long, adding a touch of sophistication that was complemented by high open-toed sandals. It had cost the equivalent of a month's salary and she had hesitated in the shop for some time, but she was glad she had indulged herself now. She needed all the poise and elegance the outfit could afford tonight and it turned her hair and skin into pure gold. It took her some time to persuade her newly washed hair into the smooth chignon she had decided on, but the effort was worth it by the time she had finished. The overall affect was one of cultured sophistication, and she turned this way and that in the full-length mirror in her bedroom as the doorbell rang, announcing that the first of the guests had arrived. Her only jewellery was Marshall's brooch and a pair of tiny diamond studs in her ears that caught the light in a rainbow of colours as she twirled once more, admiring the flare of the skirt, before she left her room. He didn't arrive until quite late. The garden was alive with flickering light from the hundreds of tiny bulbs that had been wound in the trees and bushes and threaded along the top of the huge marquee. The party was in full swing and most of the throng were dancing to a popular hit of the day that the small band were playing with more enthusiasm than musical prowess.

Greg had proved a marked irritation from the moment he had arrived, displaying a proprietorial air with her that grated on Kelsey unbearably. She had already danced several dances with him, trying to keep calm when he waved other suitors away with arrogant rudeness and ignoring his flushed red face as he leered smilingly at her. 'You're gonna be nice, aren't you, Kelsey?' She bit her lip, trying desperately to avoid an unpleasant scene. He had clearly been drinking before he even reached the party; his hot breath stank of whisky and his speech was slightly slurred. She was hiding in the shadows, sipping a glass of wine and tapping her foot in time to the music, when that low, deep voice sounded in her ear. 'You look wonderful.' She turned to gaze up into Marshall's dark face and saw he was smiling lazily, the big lean body casual and relaxed as he leant against a tree-trunk, although his eyes were watchful. 'Thank you. So do you.' He laughed lightly as she mockingly drawled the words, but it was true, he did. The dark tailored trousers and casual open-necked grey shirt did crazy things to her equilibrium, and she glanced away hastily as her eyes travelled down to his throat where dark fine body hair was visible at the top of his chest. 'Another one?' He indicated her empty wine glass and she smiled steadily. She wasn't going to respond to him. She wasn't. 'Thank you.' Her voice was cool. It was while he was fetching her drink that Greg found her yet again. 'I've been looking everywhere for you,' he said belligerently, standing in front of her with his hands on his hips, tall, blond and good-looking, and very, very sure of himself.

'Have you?' She smiled dismissively as she switched her gaze to the band and then jerked back abruptly as his large hand touched Marshall's tiny brooch on the lapel of her jacket, casually brushing over one full breast as he did so. 'Present from...?' She looked at him coldly. 'A friend.' 'A friend?' He repeated her words in drunken carefulness. 'You don't need any friends but me. I've told you that. I can give you money, a house, whatever you want. Just say the word and we'll tie the knot. Don't you believe me?' 'I believe your offer of marriage is genuine, Greg.' She looked steadily into his flushed face, trying to hide her distaste. 'I've told you I'm very flattered but I just don't love you. Why can't you leave it at that?' 'You're very silly, very silly indeed.' He wagged a reproving finger at her slowly as he swayed in front of her. 'I can make things very difficult for you at work, you know. I'm not someone you can just mess about, Kelsey.' 'I didn't mess you about, Greg,' she said patiently, trying to keep her temper under control. 'We went out a few times and enjoyed ourselves, end of story.' 'No, not end of story.' If he waved that finger once more under her nose she would bite it, Kelsey thought furiously. 'No, beginning of story.' He turned and waved as someone called his name, one of the secretaries at the firm whom Kelsey was quite friendly with. 'Janice likes me. I could have her like that!' He clicked his fingers and opened his mouth to say more, shutting it abruptly as a cold, deep voice sounded just behind him.

'Then I suggest you go and find this lady of dubious intelligence and give her the full benefit of your wit and humour.' Kelsey hadn't seen Marshall return, and as Greg swung to face him, his expression a mixture of surprise and outrage, she caught a glimpse of his dark face, and it chilled her blood. It obviously did the same to Greg because after a long moment he mumbled something deep in his chest and ambled off to join the girl who had called him, shaking his head slightly as he walked much the same as a boxer after a fight. 'I gather that's wonder-boy.' Marshall looked cool, amused and devastatingly handsome and she suddenly longed to move within the circle of his arms and ask him to keep her safe. The thought shocked her and she took a step backwards before answering, her face a little pale. She must be going crazy! 'Yes, that's Greg. How on earth I could ever have gone out with him in the first place I'll never know.' 'My thoughts precisely.' His voice was mockingly condemning and immediately her hackles rose in answer to his criticism. 'Well, you're a fine one to talk. I wouldn't exactly say your track record is brilliant.' 'No? I can't remember complaining,' he said drily. 'I always know exactly what I'm getting into and who with.' 'Well, bully for you,' she said with deep sarcasm, and he smiled slowly with a downward pull to his mouth. 'Shall we leave the subject? You seem a little tense— come and dance.' As he walked with her into the lights the irony of his last statement caused a secret smile. If she was tense before she danced with him it was a surefire certainty it wouldn't have improved afterwards. She was annoyed to hear the music change from light rock and roll to a slow dreamy number as soon as he took her into

his arms. 'Sorry.' He glanced down at her with a cool smile as he felt her stiffen. 'Take it up with the band; nothing to do with me.' 'I don't know what you mean.' She looked up at him and surprised a fleetingly bitter expression in his dark eyes for a moment before they resumed their normal cynical amusement. 'You're a liar, Kelsey Hope,' he said calmly. 'You don't trust me an inch and you have made that painfully clear.' She stared at him in amazement, her mouth half open. 'You have expected me to try and seduce you from the moment you first saw me again,' he continued thoughtfully, 'and the old adage of "give a man enough rope and he'll hang himself is fast becoming true. I am very tempted to give you cause to flinch away from me every time I so much as lay a hand on you.' 'You're being ridiculous,' she said tautly. He smiled lazily. 'No, just honest. I thought you liked honesty?' 'You don't know the meaning of the word,' she snapped crossly. 'Those claws are out again.' He lifted one small hand from where it was resting on his arm and turned it over, kissing the palm lingeringly as he kept his eyes tight on her face. The long shudder that crept through her body was not missed by him and he smiled in satisfaction as he placed her hand against his arm. 'Behave yourself now,' he said comfortably as he drew her against his chest and nestled his chin in her hair, 'or else I will be forced to reprimand you more severely.' 'You're...' 'Impossible. Yes, I know.'

She said no more as she rested against his tall, lean frame; the feel of that hard body against hers was rendering speech difficult anyway. It was just after midnight when the incident she had been trying to avoid all night materialised. She had been helping her mother bring out some more food from the house into the marquee when she felt a heavy touch on her shoulder. She turned reluctantly as her sixth sense told her who it was. 'Hello, Greg.' 'Are you trying to avoid me?' He stared bleary-eyed at her, his voice strident, and she moved hastily to the edge of the garden where the shadows were thickest as several people turned their heads interestedly. She didn't need a scene now! 'No, of course not.' She looked over his shoulder for Marshall. She had been aware of Marshall's dark, steady gaze all evening, even when he was on the opposite side of the garden, and it had been wonderfully reassuring. Now, when she really needed him, he was nowhere to be seen. 'Looking for the new boyfriend?' Greg's voice was ugly. 'He's taking a phone call in the house—Canada, I understand. Apparently he left your number where he could be reached. Quite the tycoon. Who is he, anyway?' 'His name is Marshall Henderson,' Kelsey said quietly. So that was it. Greg had waited for his chance and pounced; that was just his forte. 'Marshall Henderson?' Greg wrinkled his brow as he forced his fuddled brain to think. 'Not the Marshall Henderson, the one who owns that chain of wholesale factories and high-street shops?' 'Probably.' She looked at him steadily as he gave an incredulous snigger, his face flushing scarlet.

'Now I understand! No wonder you gave me the elbow if you'd got him lined up—he's worth a fortune! I suppose he gave you the trinket on account.' He flicked the little honey-bee as he spoke with an insulting gesture, and she warned herself to go carefully as her quick temper flared. 'He's an old friend, as it happens, nothing more.' 'Don't give me that.' His voice was brutish now and his eyes nasty. 'I'm not giving you anything,' she countered coldly, and he laughed venomously. 'No, and we know why now, don't we? Saving it for the big man. You can't tell me you keep him happy with a kiss and a cuddle.' 'I think it would be a good idea if you washed your mouth out with soap and water,' she said icily as her stomach lurched jerkily. This was fast becoming too much to handle. 'Is he as good in bed as his reputation?' The voice was leeringly warm. 'I've always wondered.' 'You're disgusting.' Her lips fell back from her teeth as she looked at him, and her contempt seemed to be the last straw. 'Don't you play the high and mighty untouchable with me, not when you're running around with him!' He took hold of her arm and jerked her roughly to him. 'If you're one of his women you know the ropes.' 'Take your filthy hands off her.' Kelsey was swung round as Greg turned, still holding her arm in a bruising grip, and she saw Marshall's eyes were murderous. 'I'm going to fumigate your mouth with my fists.'

Greg glanced from his face to Kelsey and silently released his hold. She flew in front of Marshall like a small barrier, grasping hold of the front of his shirt with her back to Greg. 'Please, Marshall, don't. He's not worth it—leave it alone.' 'What's all the fuss about?' Greg sounded genuinely puzzled. 'There's enough for both of us.' Marshall swore softly as he tried to loosen Kelsey's hands from his shirt. 'Get out of the way, Kelsey, I don't want you to get hurt.' His eyes were fixed like stone- cold diamonds on Greg's face, and for the first time a flicker of uncertainty showed in the younger man's face. 'Hey, no harm done.' He took a step backwards as he spoke. 'She's all yours. I haven't done anything, have I, Kelsey?' 'No, no, he hasn't,' she was gabbling with fright. 'Please, Marshall, this is my party. Don't spoil it. Greg was just leaving.' 'Were you?' His voice was ominously quiet and Greg's face flushed painfully. He wasn't used to being ordered from anywhere; spoilt by a rich father all his life, he found this new experience intensely humiliating. 'I guess so.' His voice was sulky as he backed away, clearly getting more courage with each step he put between them. 'I can afford to wait anyway. She'll be only too pleased to crawl back to me once you've finished with her.' Kelsey felt Marshall's shirt rip as he almost threw her out of the way, but Greg had anticipated his opponent's reaction and had fled, running across the lawns and disappearing behind the house. A few seconds later they heard the roar of his sports car as it hurtled down the drive and then the sound was lost as the music took over again.

Kelsey stood shivering as she stared up into Marshall's grim face. It had all happened so quickly and the raw ugliness in Greg's words had upset her more than she would have thought possible. 'Come on, come into the house. I'll get you a brandy.' She allowed him to lead her through the garden and into the house, following obediently after him as he walked swiftly through the crowded rooms and into the small annexe which housed her father's old den. Her mind was refusing to function. 'Sit still. I'll be back in a minute.' He pushed her down into the old easy chair and shut the door as he left, returning almost instantly with a balloon glass , almost a third full of neat brandy. 'Drink it.' She did as he ordered, too bemused to argue. As the raw liquid hit the back of her throat she gasped in surprise and coughed helplessly, but he tilted the glass again when she had recovered and didn't move away until most of it had gone. 'I'm sorry about your shirt, Marshall.' Reaction and brandy were making her light-headed and she stared stupidly at his bare chest where his shirt hung open. 'Just a few buttons missing.' His voice was gentle and he lifted her chin carefully with one finger. 'All right?' 'Yes, I'm all right,' she murmured through pale lips. 'You should have let me hit him.' His voice was suddenly grim. 'He's badly in need of a short, sharp shock. What are you going to do?' 'What?' She couldn't think; her brain seemed frozen in ice. 'About Greg, Kelsey. What are you going to do? He will make things impossible for you at work.' His voice was patient.

'Yes, I suppose so.' She looked at him dazedly. 'I can't go back there. If I ever see him again in my life it will be too soon.' She gave a little shiver as she recalled the brutality in Greg's face as he'd spat his coarseness at her. 'I can get another job; his father's firm isn't the only interior design place in the world.' 'No, it isn't, but there is more than that to consider.' His voice was cool and deliberate. 'What?' She gazed at him in consternation. 'What else is there?' 'By the time he spreads his venom round certain circles your reputation will be in shreds.' His voice was expressionless. 'He will make sure that there isn't one person left who doesn't assume you are my mistress.' Her eyes widened, dilating with the knowledge that he was right, and she flushed painfully. 'That doesn't matter.' 'Of course it matters!' For the first time since they had come into the room he sounded more like himself. 'Don't talk rubbish.' 'Well, even if you're right there's nothing I can do about it, is there?' she answered angrily. 'I'll just have to weather the storm and trust the people who really know me will hold judgement.' 'You can be such a child at times.' He glared at her in exasperation. 'Do you really think anyone will give you the benefit of the doubt? It doesn't work like that, Kelsey, and I'm afraid I do seem to have something of a name for myself where the ladies are concerned.' 'All undeserved no doubt,' she said acidly, and he smiled slowly. 'I'm glad to see you are recovering, and yes, as it happens, quite undeserved. I only have to date a woman once and I've been sleeping with her for months. Normally it doesn't matter in the

circles in which I move but I don't want you to be on the receiving end of such gossip.' 'Why worry about me? I didn't see you showing much concern for Anna in the old days, or Jade either if it comes to it.' She glared at him angrily. This was all his fault! She wasn't quite sure how but it was definitely all his fault. 'That's quite different. Those ladies could more than look after themselves.' 'Oh, and I suppose you think I can't?' she spat furiously. 'Can you?' His voice was gentle and after a few long seconds she looked at him with suspiciously bright eyes. 'Just leave me alone, Marshall. There's nothing you can do about it. I'll find another job and take it from there. Please don't worry about it.' She just wanted him to leave so that she could creep upstairs to her bedroom and let go of the flood of tears that was threatening to break her chest. She would certainly never forget her twenty-first! It would seem she was losing two suitors and her job in the same breath. She could see where he was leading. He was going to suggest that he stay right out of her life and give the dust a chance to settle. She couldn't blame him—it did make sense. 'There's plenty I can do about it but I need your cooperation,' he said evenly, and there was an inflexion in his voice that had her raising her head sharply to peer closely into his face. She couldn't take much more tonight. 'Yes?' She stared at him with huge amber eyes in which the trace of tears glittered, and as he looked down at her a small muscle jerked for a moment in his tanned cheek. 'What can I do?' 'You can agree to many me.'

For a moment she thought she had misheard the quiet, cold voice but then as she looked into his dark, sardonic face she realised he was perfectly serious. 'I don't understand.' She stared at him in amazement. 'What do you mean?' 'You don't have to go through with it, of course.' He smiled down at her shocked white face with bitter self- mockery in his eyes. 'I realise that that really would be making the ultimate sacrifice. But if we announced our engagement, now, tonight, before Greg is capable of doing any mischief-making, it will take care of that aspect of things. Give it six months and then you can publicly announce that you've decided to call the whole thing off—we can think of an excuse later—and your reputation is intact and no one will think any the worse of you. In fact I think there are probably quite a few people who will congratulate you on making a lucky escape.' 'You're crazy,' she whispered slowly. 'Not at all, and in the meantime I have the perfect job lined up for you until we can find something here I've just bought a house in Portugal and it needs completely gutting from top to bottom and then every room individually designed. I've obviously taken care of the building side of things but you could take on the interior design for me. I'd pay you, of course—it would be proper bona fide employment.' 'I don't believe you're saying all this.' She looked at him helplessly, incredulity making her voice high. 'Why on earth would you do this, Marshall? Greg's gossip is not your fault. I should never have gone out with him in the first place—I was always uneasy about him. And you aren't responsible for finding me another job. I won't be destitute.' 'I'm aware of that,' he said lightly. 'And as for my reasons...' Something glowed in his eyes for a moment before he turned away,

walking over to sit on her father's big wooden desk before turning to look at her again. 'Let's just say I owe David.' 'Dad? You're doing this for Dad?' She felt a sudden little stab of pain in her heart region, but didn't stop to analyse why. 'Can't you explain, Marshall?' 'I first came in contact with your father when I was...struggling with a situation I let take me over.' His voice was hard. 'I was in danger of having everything fold up on me, I wasn't making the right decisions, and although he didn't know me from Adam he stepped in and virtually saved my business with his financial acumen. Not only that, he offered his hand of friendship and was a tremendous support to me. You could say things really took off from that point; within five years I had a chain of shops and factories and everything I touched seemed to turn to gold.' He smiled carefully. 'Is that clear enough for you?' 'Not really.' She stared at him warily. 'You still don't owe me anything.' 'You are your father's daughter,' he said imperturbably. 'Besides which there are other reasons I don't want to discuss now. Suffice it to say I think this action is necessary and it will save your mother undue anxiety.' She stared at him dully—he sounded so distant. 'No.' She shook her head slowly. 'Thank you, but no. I can't—' 'You can and you will.' Her head jerked back at the harshness in his voice and she licked her lips nervously. 'I'm not some callow youth who won't be able to keep his hands off you, Kelsey. You have nothing to fear from me. This will save both yourself and Ruth any unpleasantness, and you will only have to pretend to be fond of me in public. The rest of the time I shall merely expect courtesy.' 'Look, please—'

He interrupted her as though she hadn't spoken. 'This will be entirely between ourselves, of course. There is no need for Ruth to be informed of the true facts.' 'Now just hang on a minute, I'm not—' 'I'll just get my jacket from the car and then we can make our announcement.' His eyes gleamed quizzically. 'I don't think my shirt would bear close scrutiny, do you? People might get the wrong impression and assume you have compromised me.' A feeling of weary resignation replaced the angry panic under his tight gaze. He was obviously intent on having his own way and she was too tired and confused to argue any more at the moment. This must all be a monstrous joke. He was back within minutes, opening the door with what she almost thought was an anxious expression which was quickly masked when her eyes met his. 'I thought you might have taken the opportunity to run away,' he said lightly as he helped her up. 'I wouldn't do that.' She looked him straight in the face. 'No, that was stupid of me,' he agreed gently. 'You haven't got a cowardly bone in your body, have you? That's one of the reasons I—' He stopped abruptly and immediately that dark, sardonic mask fell over his face, hiding the softness in his eyes. 'One of the reasons I want to help you,' he continued smoothly, although she had the feeling he had been going to say something else. She looked at him uncertainly as they walked to the door and* he lifted her chin with one finger as he turned the handle. 'Our protestation of undying love might seem a little more believable if you could stop looking as though you were being led to the guillotine,' he said mildly. 'OK?'

'Marshall, stop a minute, please,' she rushed desperately. 'Can't we sleep on this? We don't have to tell everyone now. Let's think about—' 'It's the obvious solution and speed is of the essence if we're going to stop Greg's version of our relationship becoming common knowledge.' He gave a wry smile. 'Don't worry, honey-bee, it'll all work out. Just a few months while you get my villa organised in Portugal and then you can come home, unattached and with a delicious tan. Now what could be simpler than that?' She had to admit he made it sound reasonable. 'OK.' She forced a smile to her lips as they walked hand in hand through the house and into the garden to find her mother. Walking by his side like this with her hand in his wasn't convincing her she had made a wise decision in agreeing to his incredible proposal! She had the nasty feeling she might well have jumped out of Greg's frying- pan into Marshall's fire, and the fire was by far the more dangerous. She must be mad to trust him, to let his smooth talk and apparent concern for her welfare override all she knew of him. It might be the desire to pay an old debt to her father that had motivated his offer, but the fact remained that she would become his fiancee, to all extents and purposes, and she just wasn't sure what he^. would expect of her. Or, more importantly—and here the feeling of panic that had been growing in her chest reached her throat, constricting breath—what she could expect of herself. She trusted herself less than him; she seemed to have no strength where he was concerned. Of course it was just physical attraction intensified by his sensual expertise, but it was rendering her vulnerable and she didn't like it. 'Now, a big smile, sweetheart,' Marshall drawled as they caught sight of Ruth in the distance. 'Enjoying the party, Marshall?' Her mother smiled at them both.

'Couldn't be better, Ruth.' Marshall's voice was silky- smooth and her mother's eyes widened as he leant over and whispered discreetly in her ear. Kelsey stood by, feeling distinctly embarrassed as her mother's startled gaze swept over her flushed face, and as Ruth's eyes began to mellow into surprised delight she felt her heart sink still further. She might have known her mother would approve if Marshall had whispered the magic word 'marriage'. She realised now that she had been desperately hoping Ruth would object, strongly, and delay things until she had had more time to think. 'Oh, my love, congratulations...' As her mother flung her arms round her and pulled her into her tight embrace she met Marshall's amused, indolent gaze over the top of Ruth's head. 'This is wonderful news, and on your birthday,' her mother gushed on happily, quite unaware that the bride to be was giving her future husband a ferocious glare that would have floored lesser men. 'I had no idea...' She endured the announcement and the effusive good wishes afterwards with tight, smiling control, acting the part of the excited sweetheart with magnificent aplomb. She noticed a few puzzled glances and the odd whisper among her friends at work, which acted like a burst of adrenalin on her nervous system. It was clear Greg had done his work well and they all assumed she had belonged to him, and the thought straightened her back and put a tilt to her chin, enabling her to laugh and dance into the early hours, betraying none of the extreme physical and mental exhaustion that was keeping her at fever- pitch. 'I'll call and see you tomorrow afternoon,' Marshall whispered as he took his leave on the doorstep after everyone had left after coffee, coffee and more coffee. 'We've got certain details to arrange and I would like you established in Portugal within the month.'

She stared vacantly at him, her mind in such a state of turmoil that his words seemed all mixed up in her head and the effort of making a reply beyond her. 'You're exhausted.' He reached out a hand and smoothed a loose tendril of hair from her face, letting his fingers wander down to her mouth and tracing the soft, quivering outline of her lips with one gentle finger. 'Try and get a good night's sleep for what's left of it.' Her mouth was tingling where he had touched and still speech was impossible as she gazed at him, her amber eyes huge and dazed in the soft light from the shadowed hall. 'You're so beautiful.' His voice was husky as he looked down at her and slowly, almost reluctantly, he bent his head to let his lips cover hers, gently coaxing at first and then, as she remained still and unresisting under the embrace, deepening into slow, tantalising passion. He pulled her more closely into his shape until she was moulded against each hard contour, leaving her in no doubt of his desire, and as she felt his need it seemed to trigger a consuming warmth in her lower limbs that caused her legs to tremble and her arms to find their way to his broad shoulders as if of their own volition. By the time he gently put her aside she was clinging to him unashamedly, lost in a mounting vortex of emotion that had no sense of time or surroundings. 'I think this is the moment where I act quite out of character and refuse to take advantage of what has been a very trying day for you.' He was smiling wryly at her . as he held her from him, and for a moment she had the unreasonable desire to hit him, hard. How dared he remain so unruffled and contained when every nerve in her traitorous body was crying out for release? She had no experience to draw on in fighting his sensual finesse; it was intimidating and

dangerous and she was like a helpless puppet as he dangled the strings, making her dance for some strange pleasure of his own. 'Yes, I'm very tired,' she answered stiffly. He nodded slowly. 'Till tomorrow, then.' 'Unless you change your mind.' She didn't know what prompted the words, but suddenly the smiling, laconic man in front of her turned into a cold, hard stranger with dark, wintry eyes, his face menacingly tight. 'Don't even think of escaping now,' he said softly. 'You have made an agreement and you will stick to it as I will. I have no intention of changing my mind, as you well know, and I will not allow you to either. What is done is done.' She stared at him, her mouth dry. 'Do you understand?' She silently nodded her acquiescence as her lashes flickered nervously. 'I won't be made a fool, of, Kelsey, not even by you. You will come to Portugal with me as my fiancee and play the part that fate has allotted to you. I won't force you to stay when the time is up; I have no reason to do that, do I?' There was something in his taut stillness that didn't add up, but she was past caring. She just wanted this awful evening to end and to be able to be alone with her thoughts. 'Goodnight, Kelsey.' He made no further attempt to touch her, leaving quietly without a backward glance. It was just as she was sliding wearily into bed, stretching her aching limbs slowly under the cool, thin covers, that the first growls of thunder broke the stillness. The storm had arrived after all, but as she watched the vivid white flashes of lightning through the window, and listened to the furious squalls of hail being flung violently against the glass, she thought miserably that it couldn't compare to the tempest that had ripped her safe little world to

shreds. Marshall had burst into her life again like a savage tornado, whirling her out of all that was familiar and normal and leaving her in a wild, turbulent land where there were no recognisable landmarks to guide her way. She couldn't imagine now how she had been so foolish as to agree to his absurd proposal, but agree she had. She twisted under the covers silently. Greg with all his spite couldn't affect her the way this man did. The storm outside was already abating, its furore spent, but if her thudding heart was right the storm in her life had only just begun.

CHAPTER FIVE 'MARSHALL'S here, Kelsey!' Her mother's voice told her what she already knew. She had heard his car purr on to the gravelled drive but was determined not to race downstairs to greet him like a teenager on her first date. From now on she was going to be cool and collected, keeping a safe distance between them both in space and emotion. She had slept the sleep of exhaustion until mid- morning, waking to the sound of gentle raindrops pattering lightly on to the closed window. As she lay in a warm, comfortable daze, listening to the reassuring familiar sound of church bells in the distance, she had allowed her mind to wander back and forth, collating facts and sorting them into some sort of sense. Now she had time to meditate she had to admit that Marshall's offer had been both generous and opportune. He had removed her swiftly from an impossible situation with her self-respect and pride intact. He had made it clear that he viewed the engagement as a temporary interlude that could be terminated to their mutual convenience and satisfaction, and in the meantime she would be kept busy with the sort of chance her friends at work dreamt about. To redesign a whole house! Most people were in the business twenty years or so before they had such an opportunity, if at all. She frowned suddenly. She would have to be on her toes. It was essential she gave value for money. As the smell of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding permeated the bedroom she persuaded herself to rise, having a quick shower and slipping on freshly laundered jeans and a warm fluffy jumper. The storm had cooled the September air considerably. She brushed her hair until it hung in shining silky curls over her shoulders and, after applying a light touch of grey eyeshadow and mascara, wandered downstairs to help with the lunch. She ate with a surprisingly

healthy appetite considering the state of her emotions, and after clearing away she washed the dirty dishes after persuading her mother to take a nap in the lounge. She crept quietly up to her room after she had returned the kitchen to its usual state of shining order, and after writing her resignation for work she sat on the bed waiting for Marshall. She couldn't have waited downstairs. She knew Ruth was longing to probe the whys and wherefores of her lightning engagement and she just couldn't face any searching questions. She was leaving for London tonight, so if she could just avoid her mother's questions till then... 'Kelsey! Did you hear me? Marshall's here.' She glanced at her small gold wristwatch. Three minutes. That had been enough delay. Now to face him. She walked downstairs without replying, outwardly composed but inwardly as tight as a coiled spring. She could hear him talking in the drawing-room and her stomach lurched sickeningly. 'Stop it,' she muttered irritably to herself. 'He isn't going to affect you.' 'Good afternoon.' She smiled coolly as she entered the room and Marshall looked up with an answering smile, his dark eyes sweeping over her stiff face perceptively. He didn't reply and after a moment she found his silent appraisal acutely unnerving. 'I was just finishing writing my resignation.' 'Of course you were,' he drawled slowly. 'I've already taken care of that, as it happens. I know Greg's father on a business level, and when I phoned and explained our engagement and my quandary with the Portugal residence he was more than happy to release you immediately.' 'You've done what?' she spluttered angrily. 'Don't you think that is a little—?'

'Presumptuous?' So he remembered that confrontation in the garden all those years ago too? 'No, I don't. You are under my protection now and I shall act as I see fit. I'm afraid that is something you will have to get used to.' His quiet voice was quite reasonable but she had the full benefit of the dark brown eyes trained on her face and didn't miss the warning they contained. 'Shall we go for a drive?' She couldn't tell him what she thought of his high-handed methods in front of her mother and she was beginning to feel she would burst if she didn't get out of the house. Once in the car she turned on him like a small virago. 'I'm perfectly capable of arranging my own life, Marshall! Don't you dare do anything like that again without consulting me.' He had just started the engine but allowed it to die again immediately. 'I wondered what the ploy was to get me alone.' He smiled mockingly as he spoke. 'For a moment there I thought you might want my body.' 'I mean it.' She wouldn't be deflected from the attack. 'I—' 'Hold it.' All humour had gone from his face, leaving it cold and hard, and there was a note in his voice that brought Anna's face swimming before her eyes. 'In the first place you are patently incapable of arranging your life. And in the second I don't know how you usually address the men in your life but if you ever take that tone again with me you will find that you have bitten off more than you can chew. I mentioned courtesy yesterday and I meant it. Do you understand, me, Kelsey?' She glared ferociously as scalding colour flooded her cheeks. 'I see. I'm not allowed to disagree with you, then, or have an opinion of my own?'

He swore softly and leant back in his seat with a small sigh, shaking his head gently as he let his eyes rove over her angry face. 'No. That is not what I meant and you damn well know it.' He looked at her with exasperation written all over his face. 'You can say what you like to me but I expect you to be civil. It would obviously be helpful if you stopped suspecting my every move, but that's probably asking too much. Now, are you serious about this drive or do we go back inside?' She shrugged as she fought for control. 'Please yourself.' 'You really shouldn't say things like that,' he countered silkily. 'If I pleased myself at this moment in time I would kiss you very thoroughly as befits a newly engaged girl.' She glared at him again in answer, momentarily nonplussed, and- he gave a small chuckle of amusement. 'What a vixen...' They left the long tree-lined street slowly, driving at a relaxed pace through the small market town that was .really little more than a village. At the crossroads just outside the town Marshall turned away from the road which led towards the city and headed into the open countryside, allowing the car more speed. They had been travelling for some time in virtual silence when they came to a small village square in the middle of a tiny hamlet, and, just as Marshall slowed almost to a halt to let some children clear the road, a bridal party from the quaint old church opposite came spilling out into the street. 'Oh, they're going to take photos on the green!' Kelsey exclaimed as she watched the group position themselves under a huge cherry tree on the patch of grass in the middle of the square. 'Can we watch for a minute?' 'If you like,' Marshall agreed slowly with a tight smile, steering the powerful car smoothly into the side of the road as he spoke.

The bride was dressed in a frothy creation of white silk looped with pale pink organdie and caught with pink rosebuds, and as her long veil blew gently in the freshening wind she laughed shrilly as one of the men in the party shouted something to her. 'Isn't she lovely?' Kelsey whispered admiringly, and as Marshall didn't reply she turned to him, intending to repeat herself, but the words died in her throat as she caught a glimpse of his dark face. 'Marshall?' She caught at his arm. 'What is it?' He turned to her, his gleaming eyes dilated and a look of such savagery on his face that she shrank back against the car door. 'Marshall?' His eyes focused on her as she spoke again and she had the strange impression that he was returning from a very long journey as the fierceness diminished and bitter contempt took its place. 'Are you all right?' She didn't know what to say. She would have liked to get out of the car and run! 'Of course.' He had schooled his features into then- usual mocking mask, and she looked at him uncertainly, searching his face for she knew not what. 'The lady reminded me of someone, that's all, someone from a long, long time ago.' She turned again to look at the bride, suddenly chilled. The girl's face was pretty but not beautiful, but the large blue eyes had a pertness that made them sparkle with life and the soft blonde hair fell in shimmering waves round the heart-shaped face. She was clearly enjoying her big day without a trace of shyness to mar the occasion, calling out laughingly to first one man, then another, flirting unashamedly before reaching up to kiss her bridegroom on his cheek and whisper something in his ear that brought a grin to his good-looking face. 'Who?' She had to ask although she knew he would have preferred her not to.

'Laura, my ex-wife.' His voice was quite expressionless now and she turned from his bland face to glance again at the bride as that sick feeling rose again in her chest. 'Was she as pretty as her?' She forced her voice to be cool. 'I think so,' he said calmly. 'Laura had the same hair and eyes, and a vitality, a love of life that that girl seems to feel.' Her heart began to race wildly as he spoke her name. 'Where is she now?' she asked carefully without looking at him again. In spite of the coolness of his voice and face she instinctively felt this was hurting him, badly. 'She's dead.' The words hung baldly in the still air. 'Dead?' She faced him, open mouthed with shock. 'Oh; I'm sorry, Marshall, no one told me.' He looked at her coldly. 'Why should they?' he asked with a twisted smile. 'We were only married nine months before she died. Within a couple of years most people had forgotten I'd ever been married.' 'But that's awful.' She had died! His wife had died? 'No, it's the way I wanted it.' He started the engine abruptly. 'You have to get back in the stream of things, Kelsey, or you die in the shallows.' His face was harder than she had ever seen it. 'Yes.' She didn't have a clue what he was talking about, and suddenly she felt unaccountably desolate without knowing why. All this time she had been thinking he didn't care about anything, that he was cold and heartless, and he had been mourning his dead wife with whom he had had so short a time. Ice gripped her heart. 'You must have loved her very much,' she said painfully.

He glanced at her briefly before he swung the car into the road again. 'What I felt about Laura is as unforgettable as her memory.' There was no expression in the words but she marvelled at their content. To love like that...had his wife known how fortunate she was? How very, very fortunate? 'And you've never wanted to marry again?' She glanced at his hard profile as she spoke and saw his mouth was a thin white fine. Of pain, she supposed. 'No.' The word was sharp. 'I have not considered that necessary.' She subsided into her seat in tense silence as the big car ate up the miles. The fresh wind had blown away all the rainclouds and a mild watery sun was bathing the dying afternoon in a warm golden glow, but she was oblivious to the beauty of the woodland through which they were travelling; her thoughts were all inward. She had been so wrong, she thought miserably. All the time she had considered him a heartless rake with no depth of emotion beyond physical desire he had been yearning for his lost wife and filling his time with a succession of girlfriends who clearly hadn't touched his sore heart at all. She must have been so young. How tragic. Her stomach gave a huge lurch. Perhaps he still loved her? The thought stilled her heart. 'What are you mulling over now in that busy little brain of yours?' His voice was gently teasing and she was grateful he couldn't read her mind. 'Nothing.' She forced a smile. 'Where are we going?' 'I know a charming little tearoom,' he said briskly. 'Now we are an old engaged couple I think we should take up such genteel pastimes, don't you?'

'Possibly.' She kept her eyes averted. He laughed softly. 'Well, in view of the fact that certain other privileges are going to be denied me I thought I'd better try for a slightly more respectable image. Don't you approve?' 'You'll never keep it up,' she said drily with an upward tilt to her mouth, and he cast her a quick amused glance before chuckling softly. 'I think I'm going to enjoy being your beau, Miss Hope—there is a lot more to you than just a pretty face.' He was teasing her and she knew it, and she responded quickly in an effort to keep the atmosphere light. 'I'll reserve judgement before I say the same to you.' He laughed again with obvious satisfaction, stretching his back as he did so and running one hand quickly through his short black hair. She wished he weren't so arrogantly handsome, she wished that virile masculinity that emanated from him through every nerve and fibre weren't so pronounced, she wished— She stopped abruptly, confused and perturbed by the direction her mind was heading. She was wishing a darn sight too much all of a sudden where he was concerned. 'I'd like us in Portugal by next week.' She looked at him quickly. 'Us? You aren't going to stay out there, are you?' The thought filled her with panic. 'Would that be so dreadful?' He shot her a swift sardonic smile as he spoke. 'No, of course not, but I shall pop out most weekends to see how things are progressing.' 'Pop out?' He spoke as though he were talking about going next door for a cup of sugar. 'Surely that's going to be very expensive?'

'I'll have to save my pennies, won't I?' he said drily. She flushed hotly—it had been a stupid thing to say. Of course he could afford it, she knew that. 'This tearoom must be good; we seem to have travelled miles,' she said when the silence between them was making her nerve-endings scream. 'Are we nearly there?' She looked down at her jeans and jumper as she spoke. 'And am I suitably dressed?' 'You would look good in anything—or nothing,' he added wickedly. 'And yes, we've arrived. Just a minute or two more.' As he spoke he drove the car through a pair of high wrought-iron gates that were open on to the small country lane they had turned into a few minutes previously. The car crunched up the immaculate drive and as they turned a sharp corner she caught her breath in surprise and pleasure at the sight before her. A huge three- storeyed mansion was set among tall, graceful pine trees overlooking a small lake in which its reflection was picked out in piercing detail on the clear, still water, each leaded window and mellow old brick copied in perfect detail. 'What a beautiful place,' she breathed softly. 'And they do teas? How did you find out about it? I didn't see any signs.' She glanced at him enquiringly but his face was blank. 'I know the proprietor,' he said smoothly as he brought the car to a quiet halt in front of the massive oak doors with lavishly wrought brass handles. As he helped her from the car a wood pigeon in the small copse to one side of the immaculately tended grounds sent its cool, melodious call into the still evening, and she paused with her head on one side listening, quite entranced. 'It's so peaceful here,' she

breathed softly, although the size and grandeur of the imposing building was making her wish she had dressed more circumspectly. As he took her hand and opened his mouth to reply one of the huge doors opened and a small, well- proportioned woman in her late fifties stood beaming at them. 'I thought I heard your car, Mr Henderson,' she said delightedly. 'And this must be your young lady. I didn't think I'd get to meet her so soon.' 'Neither did I, Mrs Rook,' Marshall returned easily. 'A spur-of-themoment decision.' Kelsey noticed he avoided her eyes. As he spoke a large missile hurled itself from the interior of the house with an excited series of piercing barks, closely followed by two more smaller dogs of indeterminate breed. 'Down, Scrounger!' As the huge Irish wolfhound reached Kelsey's side it subsided into an ingratiating heap, rolling its eyes and creeping along the floor in the most ridiculous fashion. 'I'm, sorry, Kelsey. I forgot about the dogs. Are you comfortable with them?' He shot her a quick smile which she ignored, anger making her cheeks scarlet. 'Marshall Henderson! This is your home, isn't it? You've brought me here under false pretences,' she hissed softly. 'Guilty, I'm afraid.' He took her arm as they walked up the steps and as they entered the massive hall she pulled away sharply, her eyes turning to the thick, deep- piled carpets in a soft shade of blue and the impressive pictures lining the cream walls. 'Could we have a tray, please, Mrs Rook?' Marshall asked smoothly as he led Kelsey into a spacious room on his left. 'Have you any of your delicious chocolate cake to tempt us with?' He seemed quite unperturbed by her anger.

'I dare say I can find you a piece,' Mrs Rook laughed warmly, 'although how you can eat anything after that lunch you had is beyond me.' She shut the door after them as she spoke, leaving them alone. 'Why didn't you tell me we were coming here?' Kelsey asked crossly as Marshall waved for her to be seated on one of the many sofas and chairs dotting the huge room. 'Would you have come if I had?' he asked quietly, and she blinked at him in surprise. 'I might have.' She stared at him defiantly. 'I doubt it.' He smiled mockingly. 'Even with Mrs Rook as chaperon.' She looked carefully round the beautifully furnished room, trying not to gape. Everything was of the most exquisite taste, the soft shade of grey in the cream and grey carpet picked out in the heavy velvet drapes at the windows and perfectly complemented by the dusky-pink furniture. She had known he was wealthy but not the enormity of it. With all this and his devastating physical attributes he must have the women lining up! Her heart began to thud uncomfortably and she took a deep silent breath, forcing her frayed nerves into order. It was just a house and he was just a man, a little more dynamic and forceful than most but still just a man. The dogs had followed them into the room and she felt a warm snout suddenly pushed into her hand and looked down in surprise to see the smaller of the other two dogs gazing up at her with huge mournful eyes. 'Aren't you lovely? What's your name?' She crouched down as she spoke and the dog lifted one smooth paw for her to shake.

'She's called Velvet, on account of those eyes,' Marshall said quietly. 'A friend of mine found her and her mate, Spider, abandoned in an old caravan a few years ago. There had been some puppies but they didn't make it, although we managed to save Mum and Dad.' The other dog had come closer at the mention of his name but seemed less outgoing than the female. 'Scrounger took them in and now the three of them are great pals.' She looked at him carefully over the dog's head. 'Do you live here alone?' She couldn't imagine him without female company. 'Apart from the harem upstairs,' he said with a crooked smile, reading her expression accurately. Her eyes spoke her reply and he laughed softly. 'Sorry, but I felt it was expected. Yes, I live here alone with .the dogs although Mrs Rook and her husband have a flat above the garages at the back of the house. They prefer to be independent.' 'Her husband works for you too?' 'Ill,a fashion,' he said quietly. 'He's had ill health for some years but he looks after the garden for me and organises general maintenance on the house and grounds.' 'I see.' She gazed at his hard face curiously. 'You seem to collect waifs and strays, don't you?' 'I doubt if Mrs Rook would appreciate hearing her husband referred to as a waif or stray but I dare say the dogs don't mind.' He stroked the Irish wolfhound's huge head absently as he spoke. As soon as Marshall had sat down it had positioned itself at his side with a comical air of possession which the other two dogs seemed to accept with an air of resigned submission.

'I didn't put you down as a philanthropist,' she said with a small smile, but his face was straight as he looked at her. 'I know exactly what you've got me down as, honeybee.' Their glances met and locked and for a moment the silence was so charged that the air almost crackled. 'Can you blame me?' Her voice was defiant. He looked at her quietly as a gleam of amusement flickered in the dark face. 'You don't deny it, then?' She shrugged gracefully. 'I'm not sure what you're accusing me of, so that would be foolish, wouldn't it?' 'Touche, Miss Hope.' He laughed softly. 'When are you going to let that guard down?' 'I don't know what you're talking about,' she said quickly, and he laughed again as the door opened and Mrs Rook entered pushing a tea-trolley loaded with goodies. 'Good grief, Mrs Rook, you've set out to impress,' he admired gently, and the plump little woman smiled warmly at him, affection evident in her smiling brown eyes. 'It's not every day you bring a young lady here, is it, sir?' she said quietly. She turned to Kelsey with a welcoming smile on her round little face. 'Mr Rook and I would like to offer you our congratulations, Miss Kelsey. I've been waiting for this day for a long time.' She nodded her head as she spoke for all the world like an approving little pixie, and before Kelsey could muster a reply she had bustled out, her tight permed curls bobbing as she walked. Kelsey raised one eyebrow enquiringly.

'I told her this morning,' Marshall said softly in answer to her unspoken question. 'You'll have to excuse her; she looks on me as the son she never had and takes an inordinate interest in my private life.' He didn't sound as though he minded and Kelsey wondered again at this different side to his character. Just when she had thought she had him all neatly taped he had stepped right out of line again! Something of her irritation must have shown in her face because he smiled wickedly, his dark eyes glittering in his tanned face. 'Now what have I done?' She didn't know how to reply to the challenge and merely contented herself with a wide-open innocent stare and a dismissive shrug of her slim shoulders, and then tried very hard to ignore the soft, deep chuckle that followed. He really was the most disturbing man. Obviously capable of very deep emotion, as the conversation about his wife had shown, yet on the other hand he could treat women like Anna and Jade with cynical, ruthless disregard that bordered on cruelty. And now a picture of him as a quiet family man. She didn't understand any of it but felt there was even more to come, which did little to settle her nerves. He was several people all rolled into one. After they had had tea and a piece of Mrs Rook's delicious chocolate gateau, Marshall took her on a short tour of the grounds with the dogs bounding happily by their side. He tucked her arm in his as they left the house, and although she stiffened slightly he appeared not to notice, and within a few minutes she relaxed as he kept the conversation easy and general, pointing out the different bushes and flowers by name as they walked. 'That's artemisia,' he said quietly as Kelsey expressed admiration of the silver plumes of tiny flowers against the dark background of a deep green hedge. 'I planted that myself when I first moved here; the blooms persist for months on end.' 'Don't tell me you're a gardener too!' she exclaimed with some sarcasm, and he smiled deprecatingly.

'Not exactly. I don't have the time.' 'All work and no play?' Her voice expressed her disbelief. She knew exactly how he played! 'Quite so,' he agreed smoothly, stopping to point out a mass of maijoram glowing gold in its neat bed in Mrs Rook's small herb garden. It was beginning to grow dark as they walked back to the house and the sky was low and leaden now the weak sun had been banished. She shivered suddenly and he looked down at her. 'Are you cold?' He pulled her against him as he stroked her hair gently. 'I could warm you if you'd let me.' 'I don't doubt it.' She tried to keep her voice light but something in his face caught at her breath as he stopped and traced the outline of her mouth with his finger. 'Your lips are begging to be kissed. Do you know that?' His deep, rich voice stroked along her veins, causing the blood to pulse hotly. She opened her mouth to reply but he lowered his head quickly, taking her half-open lips in a searing kiss that seemed to reach down to her toes. 'Mmm...' His voice was thick as he raised his head. 'Honey from the honey-bee.' She wasn't cold any more.. 'Marshall—?' 'No.' He put one finger to her mouth. 'Don't talk. We get nowhere when we talk. I'll lead and you follow.' It was the humour rather than the lovemaking that suddenly unlocked her mind as he drew her to him again and explored her mouth with small darting thrusts. She loved him! His mouth was

doing incredible things to her ears and throat and as her body responded blindly she knew with terrifying clarity that she had loved him unknowingly for years. That was why no other man's love- making had even begun to stir her blood, whereas merely a glance from those glittering brown eyes could make her knees weak. How blind she had been. How stupidly, dangerously blind. To fall in love with him of all people! He mustn't guess how she felt; it would be the ultimate humiliation. She had foolishly promised to spend the next six months tied to this man who at best had a mild affection for her heavily laced with desire, and as far as she knew had a willing and able string of women to fill his spare time who offered him far more than she could. She felt the tips of her breasts hardening against the steel of his chest as the kiss deepened. 'Please, Marshall.' She pulled away sharply, feeling curiously bereft as the warmth of his body was gone. He let his hands drop to his sides, his face mockingly rueful. 'I know, I know, no strings attached. But you're so tempting, sweetheart.' The endearment that was becoming familiar cut into her like a knife. If only it were for real. He had proffered what he considered a sensible way of escape from difficult circumstances, content in the knowledge that at the end of the allotted time period she would disappear from his life without any complications and the minimum of fuss. She was unusually subdued on the way home, and felt his watchful gaze on her more than once, but he said very little, confining his conversation to general small talk which she responded to with monosyllabic shortness. It was dark by the time they drew up outside the house, and the uncertain weather had cleared, leaving a clear, star-studded sky and cool fresh air washed clean by the storm.

'We'll be flying out a week tomorrow.' She glanced at him nervously and he smiled sardonically. 'Come on, Kelsey, you might as well get it over with. I've always found that if something has to be endured for any length of time it becomes commonplace and far more acceptable. You might even like Portugal.' She nodded stiffly. 'Get your affairs in order this week and you'd better assume that you will be away until Christmas.' 'I still can't believe all this is happening.' She gazed at him helplessly, the new awareness of her feelings for him making her hopelessly tongue-tied in his presence. 'Perhaps this might bring a little reality into the proceedings,' he said drily as he reached in his pocket for a small velvet box. 'I was going to give it to you earlier but you were less than receptive.' She took the box with wide eyes, their dark tawny depths expressing her unease. 'Open it, it won't bite you,' he commanded with a flicker of irritation in his deep voice. 'Oh, no, Marshall, I can't wear this,' she protested sharply as she lifted the lid to see the glittering beauty the box contained. The ring was beautiful and obviously wildly expensive, consisting of three generous-sized diamonds on a twist of gold. 'It's far too expensive.' She thrust it away and his face hardened. 'Why are you the only woman of my acquaintance who makes such a fuss every time I give you a little gift?' he asked with magnificent understatement, his voice cold. 'Hardly a little gift.' She fingered the tiny honey-bee brooch that she had pinned on her jumper earlier. "This alone would pay my salary for months.' She wouldn't be his plaything!

'Hardly.' His voice was quiet. 'And you will accept the ring, Kelsey. Look on it as a necessary stage prop for the little scenario we are writing if that makes you feel better.' 'It doesn't.' She looked at him angrily. 'Couldn't you have found anything less expensive? I shall be terrified I'll lose it before it's time to give it back.' 'Who said anything about giving it back?' This time it was his voice that was sharp. 'The ring is a gift, Kelsey, for crying out loud. What you do with it when we part company is entirely up to you—sell it, keep it, but it's yours. Do you understand me?' He placed the box very firmly on to her lap, his face grim. She drew in a deep silent breath as she gazed down at the tiny box. What she really wanted to do at this moment was beg him to release her from this terrible mistake, but that would be fatal, so instead she raised a face that was deliberately blank and nodded quietly. 'That's really very kind of you, Marshall. I don't understand why you are going to so much trouble.' 'We've already had this conversation,' he said abruptly. 'Now put the damn thing on the third finger of your left hand and have done with it. I must say when I bought it I didn't envisage that I'd have to force you to wear it.' He sounded extremely put out and very arrogant, and she took a deep breath as she did as he had commanded, holding her hand out for inspection. 'What do you think?' The ring felt strange on her hand. For an answer he moved over her seat and deposited a brief hard kiss on her soft lips. 'Very nice.' He wasn't referring to the ring, and she smiled weakly. 'You are a woman who needs to be kissed,' he said reflectively as he gazed into her surprised amber eyes with a dark, sardonic smile. 'Has anyone ever told you that?' She shook her

head and he smiled again. 'Good. They'd better not, either, in the foreseeable future.' He tilted her face with his hand and moved all round her lips with tiny feather-light kisses that caused a dull ache to flare in her lower stomach and a slight swimming sensation to take over her head. As his lips closed possessively over her mouth a swift shaft of pure pleasure shot through her, causing her to gasp with surprise against his face, and after a moment he settled back in his seat with a regretful sigh. 'You're too tempting,' he said slowly, his face wry. 'I told you you were going to pack one hell of a punch, didn't I?' She smiled shakily. It was dangerous to be alone with him like this; it made her want all sorts of impossible things, like the feel of his big male body next to hers and words of love whispered in her ear. She wished he would go. He gave her one last hard, long look and opened his door abruptly, moving round to her side of the car and helping her out with a gentle hand. 'Maybe it's a good thing that we are going to have an ocean between us in a few days,' he said drily. 'It's going to help my unaccustomed chivalry no end.' His face was full of cynical amusement. 'And whoever said that denial was good for the soul obviously hadn't held you in their arms. Give me a hair shirt any day.' She didn't know what to say so she said nothing, and he gave her a light kiss on her forehead before moving round and sliding into the car again. 'I'll call round at the flat tomorrow. You'll need a fat cheque for the next six months' rent, won't you?' She nodded dumbly. 'And if you could stop looking at me as though I'm all the visions from your worst nightmares rolled into one it would probably help no end.' Her eyes widened with surprise at that, and he smiled fleetingly as he swung the purring car into a wide arc and

disappeared down the drive with a casual wave of his hand through the window. She stood for a good five minutes just as he had left her while the cool night air took the flush from her cheeks and enabled her heart to resume a steady beat. He clearly still thought she had no time for him and that thought comforted her a little. She couldn't bear to see the amused tolerance in those dark eyes turn to irritation or, still worse, pity. From the first moment she had become aware of him as a man all those years before he had made it perfectly plain that his dealings with the opposite sex were conducted on the basis of a short-term physical relationship which could, and would, be severed without a second's regret on his side. Perhaps he was the sort of man who only loved once and his wife had used up all he had to give, his heart dying with her. She took a few deep breaths of the cool night air and gathered her jangling nerves into order. She would be careful from now on, very careful. She would play her part to the best of her ability and do a wonderful job on his house, and when the time came to leave him she would be casual and friendly and never betray for one instance that he was breaking her heart. He had been kind to her in her moment of need and she wouldn't repay his generosity by becoming a noose round his neck, but she wished, how she wished, that she had never set eyes on him again.

CHAPTER SIX 'KELSEY, it's Ines. You are ready to leave? I wait for you in the lobby.' 'I won't be a minute, Ines.' Kelsey hastily brushed her hair into shining order as she spoke. 'I overslept this morning—all that dancing last night.' As the other girl giggled in reply and replaced the receiver in the foyer of the hotel, Kelsey quickly grabbed her folder and briefcase containing all her sketches and plans. Since arriving in Portugal six weeks ago she felt she had been transported to an enchanted land of swift- flowing rivers and mountain greenery, brilliantly hued flowers and vines, old churches and ancient convents and castles, dank, severe monasteries and gaily painted small towns where the architecture was awe-inspiring. It had all been so different from what she had expected that first afternoon when she had stepped off the plane with Marshall, nervous and bewildered and quite overwhelmed by the speed with which he had taken charge of her life. They were met at the airport by Ines, a tall, slender Portuguese girl with long jet-black hair and huge almond-shaped eyes, who, it appeared, was the secretary of the building contractor Marshall had hired to see to the construction work. She welcomed them prettily, her dark eyes smiling from under lowered lids, and Kelsey warmed to her immediately, which was fortunate as she was to see a lot of her in the coming weeks. Ines drove them first to their hotel, a low, sprawling white structure surrounded by pine trees and quite secluded, where they merely left their bags, and then on to the villa where she informed them in broken English that Pires, 'the—how you say?—the boss,' was waiting for them. Kelsey was interested to see the villa where she

was to prove her worth and the years of study, but nothing had prepared her for the old, magnificent structure that greeted her eyes as they veered slightly off the beaten track just outside the small busy northern town and down a long overgrown drive to where a group of men greeted them with loud cries and ear-to-ear grins. 'Pires.' Ines indicated a tall, well-built man standing in front of the massive two-storeyed residence, but Kelsey's eyes were fixed on the house where she was to work. The original rough stone had been painted in the obligatory white that was the Portuguese pattern but was flaking and cracked, and the large oak doors and windows all had latticed screens that were hanging crookedly in various states of disrepair, as were the ornate balconies that adorned each upstairs aperture. The house was an 'L' shape, one part having a high, sloped roof and the other a flat concreted covering where she could see a mass of plants growing in riotous disorder. The whole effect was slightly colonial but like nothing she had ever seen before, an impression heightened by the small dome-shaped porch at the front of the house whose walls were entirely covered in glazed azure-blue tiles, a line of which were picked out above each large window on the rest of the house. 'What do you think?' Marshall had been watching her closely and she turned to him enthusiastically, her face alight with pleasure. 'It's absolutely lovely, and so unusual. How did you find it?' 'I've got a friend in one of the northern towns who has been keeping his eyes open for some time for a suitable house. He came across this place quite by chance. The cost was minimal; you'll see why when we go inside,' he added wryly, 'and there's a lot of work to be done, but I liked it. The setting was ideal, quiet and secluded with a big parcel of land included. Henrique organised the building work and so on, and here we are.' He glanced at her, his dark eyes warm with lazy amusement. 'Enough to keep you busy?'

'And how,' she breathed quietly. When they went inside the full import of the job she had set herself almost overwhelmed her. There were fourteen rooms in all, six downstairs and eight upstairs, all set round an internal inner courtyard that was open to the stars. The house must have been unoccupied for years and was virtually derelict, the dank smell of decay evident everywhere. They spent two hours discussing the most immediate ' problems with Pires, part of which included the clearing of a substantial amount of undergrowth and quite a few trees from the back of the house, where Marshall had planned a large swimming-pool, and by the time Ines took them back to the hotel the combination of fatigue from the journey, panic at the enormity of the task before her and a persistent grinding headache engendered by the hot, sticky climate had rendered Kelsey useless. siesta for you.' Marshall left her at the door of her room with a terse command as he noticed her dazed amber eyes and white face. 'Dinner isn't for another three hours and I'll wake you in plenty of time.' He seemed to have adopted a rather withdrawn, aloof attitude towards her since the night in England when he had given her the ring, and although it troubled her at times she had to admit it made her feelings easier to hide. ; He had stayed in Portugal long enough to approve the initial plans for the outside of the house and the proposed swimming-pool and the main internal alterations, and had then left, promising her he would ring each night to check how the work was progressing. He had tentatively promised to fly out again in two weeks' time, but she hadn't mentioned it when he had left, regretting her shyness immediately his car had disappeared from sight. The days had settled themselves into a glorious pattern. Ines would pick her up just after eight at the hotel before the heat of the day

made itself felt and take her to the site a few miles away where she would work, sketching plans and approving the proposed work for the day, until Ines returned at just after twelve. After lunch and a brief siesta Marshall had organised that Ines be both her companion and guide in getting to know the country better, and the two girls would spend a few happy hours exploring the surrounding countryside and small towns and villages. Within a few days Kelsey had really begun to get a feel of the country she was to live in for the next six months. They had wandered through blinding whitewashed towns asleep in the hot afternoon sun, marvelled at spectacular mountain views that reminded Kelsey of the green beauty of Wales with coastal forests of pine and eucalyptus, chestnut, oak and poplar trees growing out of a carpet of bracken and heather, visited several beautiful old churches and museums and passed numerous windmills basking in the golden warmth, their conical stone towers complete with masts carrying four triangular sails. It was an idyllic existence and the work on the house was progressing well, but as first one week and then another had fled by with Marshall restricting his contact to a brief telephone call every night that left her aching and frustrated, she had begun to worry that he was regretting his magnanimity regarding their bogus engagement. Twice he had made arrangements to fly out which had then been cancelled due to supposed pressure of work, and, acting on impulse, she had written him a long terse letter a few days ago explaining that it was not necessary to continue with the engagement in order for her to complete the job in hand; she would be quite happy to break the engagement now and merely work for him as an ordinary employee. She had half expected a telephone call at any time in the last three days but had heard nothing; even the customary nightly call had ceased. After two nerve-racking evenings hanging about by the

phone she had accepted Ines's invitation to attend a birthday party in the village where the Portuguese girl lived, arriving back at the hotel in the early hours totally exhausted. She took one last look in the mirror now, pleased at the way her newly acquired tan had turned her skin peachy-brown and her hair a mass of gold highlights, and opened the door to her room, freezing in the doorway at the sight of a large dark figure poised in the opening with his hand raised to knock. 'Marshall?' She looked at his grim face in amazement. 'What on earth are you doing here?' 'I might ask you the same question.' There was no trace of warmth in the cold, harsh face. 'What exactly have you been doing, Kelsey?' 'What?' She gazed at him bewilderedly as he pushed past her into the room and slowly shut the door after him. 'Ines is waiting for me down in the lobby; I'd better—' 'I saw her,' he said shortly. 'I've sent her on to the site with a message that you won't be going there this morning.' 'Won't I?' Her stomach constricted at the sight of him after so many weeks. Impeccably groomed in dark grey tailored trousers and a short-sleeved white shirt that was open at the neck, he oozed virile masculinity from every pore. 'When did you get here?' She was annoyed to find that her voice was shaking. 'At ten last night.' His eyes were glittering steel. 'Where were you?' 'Where was I?' She repeated his words in bewilderment and then jumped violently as his hand slammed down on the top of the dressing-table. 'Don't play games with me, Kelsey! Where were you?'

'Ines invited me to a party.' She stared at his dark face. 'Did she?' His voice was brusque. 'And who escorted you and the lovely Ines to the said event?' 'What do you mean?' She felt a little throb of anger at his tone. He burst in here after not ringing her for days... 'I think it's perfectly obvious what I mean. I'm asking my fiancee in plain English who she was with last night.' The suggestion behind his cold words suddenly registered on her bewildered brain and she felt a crimson tide of anger flood into her cheeks. 'You think we went with a couple of men?' She had a fierce desire to hit him. 'My patience is running short, Kelsey.' He ground the words out through clenched teeth. 'Now answer the question. I know for a fact you weren't back in the hotel at three because I called your room before I went to sleep and there was no reply.' 'No, I wasn't back at three,' she snapped out in brittle fury. 'Ines brought me back here at ten past as it happens, and you can ask her to verify that if you don't believe me.' 'You still haven't answered my question.' 'Probably because it's beneath contempt,' she said scathingly, and as biting anger tautened the handsome features a little shiver of apprehension trickled down her spine. How could she have thought she loved such an arrogant, hateful—? 'You're treading on very thin ice, my girl,' he breathed heavily. 'Let's try another tack, then, shall we? What's the meaning of this?' He threw an envelope down on to the dressing-table and with a little

start of surprise she saw her own handwriting on the small blue envelope. 'I thought I'd made myself perfectly clear,' she said coolly as she forced her voice steady. His eyes narrowed slightly. 'Like hell you did. I get back from France after a stinking trip that was the icing on the cake of four hellish weeks of one disaster after another to find the original "Dear John" waiting for me. No explanation, no apology, nothing!' She stared at him in amazement. 'It's not a "Dear John,'.', letter.' She didn't understand any of this. 'No?' He laughed bitterly. 'Then what is it? You want to call off our engagement. Now what I want to know is the name of the man who is responsible for this change of direction.' The anger drained away leaving her pale. 'The name is Marshall Henderson if you must know.' He said nothing for a full minute as his eyes raked her features and then his big body seemed to relax with a low expelling of breath. 'Care to explain?' he asked obliquely. 'Can I sit down?' she countered with faint sarcasm, and he smiled for the first time since entering the room although his eyes were still wary. 'Do.' He waved towards the bed and after a moment she walked deliberately to the big padded easy chair at the other side of the room and perched uneasily on the edge of it. 'I'm waiting,' he drawled as he shot her white face a discerning glance. 'And don't look so frightened.'

'I'm not frightened,' she declared, immediately raising her small chin with a sharp jerk. 'Don't flatter yourself.' 'I rarely do.' She stifled the quick retort that sprang to her lips and looked at him stiffly, trying to discern his thoughts. He appeared totally relaxed, in sharp contrast to the furious tautness of a few minutes before, and there was even a small smile playing round the firm lips. The man was a chameleon. 'You haven't visited here at all,' she began tensely, aware that she had to be very careful as to how she phrased the next few sentences. He mustn't suspect how his absence had affected her. 'I distinctly remember you saying in England that you would be out every weekend, and I just thought—well... You were probably busy. Tied up with this and that.' 'And?' He stared at her blandly as she hesitated. 'Well, I thought you were perhaps regretting the limitations our engagement would put on your social life, the added difficulties—' 'In other words you thought I had stayed away because I was busy in other...areas?' There was a touch of cold steel in his voice which was not lost on her. 'I didn't know what to think. You're so short when you phone—just asking about the house and then down goes the phone! You haven't even contacted me in the last few days.' 'That could be because I was working from dawn to dusk and then some,' he said softly. 'I told you I was going to France the last time I rang and that it was going to be difficult.'

'I thought you meant just for the day.' She looked at him bleakly. 'But you haven't come out here at all.' 'Not because I didn't want to.' There was a warmth in his gaze that suddenly panicked her, and she tore her glance away from his as she twisted miserably in her seat. 'I won't bore you with everything that's happened in the last few weeks but there was no way I could have left England, Kelsey. Too many people were relying on me for their jobs.' 'That crucial?' She raised her eyes to his grim face. 'You'd better believe it.' He swept his black hair off his forehead and she noticed how tired he looked. Drained. 'It's been deadly but we're over the worst with minimal casualties. With the twist that often occurs in these situations we are now stronger than we've ever been, but it was touch-and-go for a time.' 'Oh.' She suddenly felt very silly. Why had she written that letter? He had her doing things she never would normally. 'I'm here now anyway.' He laughed derisively. 'Glad to see me?' 'Yes, I am.' She felt a little careful honesty was called for. 'I've got masses to show you and—' 'Come here.' She froze at the expression on his face, and her brain went into overdrive. This was Marshall, the original charmer; that warm, tender expression didn't mean a thing, he probably was like that with everyone, he— 'I said come here.'

She rose slowly and walked across to him, her body taut and her face stiff. 'You really are the most fascinating bundle of contradictions,' he murmured lazily as his arms went round her possessively. 'One minute the original ice-maiden and the next a veritable package of dynamite.' She looked at him warily, her amber eyes veiled in her pale face. 'You think so?' Her body was as tense as a rod in his embrace. 'I know so.' He touched her face, gently running one long finger down the outline of her jaw. 'Your skin is the most delicious shade of honey, little honey-bee. And that hair...' She was mesmerised by his touch, her eyes dilating until they were nearly black. 'Are you pleased to see me? Really pleased to see me?' 'Yes.' Her voice was as expressionless as her face. He mustn't guess how glad. She couldn't bear that humiliation on top of everything else. The look he cast her was impossible to decipher, and she waited, tense and still in his hold, as his dark eyes travelled inch by inch over her face. 'Well, you sure know how to make a man feel welcome,' he drawled wryly after a time. 'No one could accuse you of over- enthusiasm, could they?' She felt a sharp stab of disappointment as he let her go without making any move to kiss her, walking over to the window and pulling die flimsy curtain aside with a jerky abrupt movement. 'Good.' His voice was hard. 'My Range Rover has been delivered. I don't like being driven.' She crossed to stand by his side, peering down into the quiet courtyard below. 'Have you hired it?' She could smell his aftershave and her stomach knotted in an immediate response.

'Bought it. I shall need a decent vehicle if I'm going to be spending some time out here on a regular basis.' 'Decent'—it was certainly that; gleaming new and a dark bottle-green, it stood in majestic authority beside the row of cars parked near by. 'Don't worry.' He turned his head slightly and looked down at her with smiling eyes. 'I shall buy a car later for more sedate excursions but I thought the Range Rover would be good for exploring. I've a hankering to get on those mountains.' 'I'm not worried,' she said tightly. 'I suppose I shall be long gone by then.' Something moved in the darkness of his face that she couldn't quite place and then his mouth covered hers in a slow, teasing kiss, sending her heartbeat racing and causing a buzzing in her ears that rendered her deaf. 'Kelsey...' His voice was a groan as he ran his hands up and down her back in possessive intimacy. 'What are you doing to me?' The kiss suddenly became almost savage, a hard, brutal sensuality in his mastery of her lips that had her quivering helplessly and her hands sliding up- to his shoulders. She wasn't aware that he had moved her over to the bed, but as she fell back on the soft covers sanity returned for a brief moment, causing her eyes to widen with fear. 'No, Marshall...' Her whisper was lost in the feel of his hard mouth on hers as he probed the sweetness within, an urgency in his movements now that had her body leaping to respond. She loved him so much... It was the feel of his hands moving over the bare skin of her stomach that brought her back to reality and the state of her undress. He had opened her blouse without her even being aware of it and now, half naked, she flushed painfully and twisted in sudden embarrassment, turning away from him and sitting up in one sudden movement.

'I'm sorry.' She pulled her blouse round her with shaking fingers, keeping her head lowered so that her cloud of hair covered her flushed face from his piercing gaze. 'I didn't mean to let you...I shouldn't have—' 'I shouldn't have.' The tone was full of wry self- mockery and she didn't dare look at him. 'I had promised myself when I came into this room that I wouldn't lay a finger on you today. I was going to give you time to get to know me, get things right between us again.' 'Have they ever been right?' she asked miserably. 'Perhaps not.' His voice was slightly husky. 'But they sure won't improve if I seduce you, will they? You don't trust me, do you, Kelsey?' 'It's not a question of that.' She kept her eyes lowered. 'The hell it isn't.' His voice was rough now. 'Right or wrong, you've got the impression in that cute head of yours that I'm the wolf and you're little Red Riding Hood. Sooner or later you're going to have to open up a bit and allow me to get closer.' 'Why?' She raised her head now and met his enigmatic gaze. 'Because.' His voice was terse. 'Because what?' 'Just because.' He leant across and refastened the buttons of her blouse with cool, steady hands, his face distant and cold. She felt hot burning anger flare scarlet into her face as she became aware of his composure— he was made of iron!

'So I can be another tick on your list?' She knew even as she spoke that she was being insultingly unfair but she would have said worse to get some sort of response from this cold ice-man. 'I'll ignore that.' He didn't even glance at her red face as he stood up and walked lazily across to the door. 'Be ready in ten minutes and bring all your sketches and ideas. I want to see exactly how you've been keeping yourself busy in the absence of male company.' There was cruel, teasing mockery evident in his laconic voice, and for a second she almost hated him. It was a game to him, an amusing unusual game. 'Don't keep me waiting, Kelsey.' 'I wouldn't dare.' She knew what she was going to say next and almost stopped herself—almost. 'Did Laura ever keep you waiting?' The name seemed to stick in her mouth like bad fruit. He swung round and regarded her steadily for a long, still second that stretched into eternity. She didn't know what to expect but as the deep voice spoke again the words ripped into her with bitter sharpness. 'Don't speak her name to me again, Kelsey, not if you value your well-being.' She stared at him with huge eyes and his face could have been set in stone except for the brilliant savagery evident in the dark glittering eyes. 'Do you understand me?' She didn't reply and then started violently as he shot the next words at her with cold fury. 'Do you?' 'Yes.' She wasn't aware of speaking through her numb lips but she heard her own voice with a feeling of disbelief. She had got her reaction all right, and what a reaction. As the door slammed shut behind him she sank back on to the bed with a feeling of dreadful finality blanketing her mind. He still cared that much? So much he couldn't hear her name spoken by another woman?

What should she do? Her own question mocked her. What could she do? She knew better than anyone that love grew where it would. She would never have chosen to love him but she did, and she could no more shut that feeling off than he evidently could regarding his dead wife. It was all so hopeless. They struck sparks off each other without even trying and it seemed the only thing he felt for her was this strong animal passion. There had been an emotion she could only describe as hate in his eyes as he had looked at her across the room seconds before he left. 'Don't cry, don't cry.' She found she was talking to herself as she hastily washed her burning face in cool water and brushed her hair into shining order. She couldn't afford the luxury of tears; they would have to wait until later. She was downstairs within the allotted ten minutes and as she turned the corner she saw his tall, lean body detach itself from a corner of the lobby and move towards her, a cool smile on the dark handsome face as though he were preparing to meet someone for the first time. 'Let me have those.' He took the huge folder of sketches and her small compact briefcase from her easily and gestured for her to precede him out of the hotel. She walked over to the Range Rover without speaking, her mind in complete turmoil. They drove in silence until they were almost at the site and then he pulled on to the grass verge a mile before the house and cut the engine abruptly. In the distance she noticed a large party of women dressed in black walking along the road but they were as yet too far away to hear and the only sound was the slow whisper of the pine trees overhead as they swayed gently in the soft warm breeze. 'Are you all right?' he asked quietly as he turned in his seat to face her, and she nodded quickly. 'Fine.'

'Liar.' His voice was rueful. 'I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I apologise, but the request stands. I don't want to hear her name.' There was granite in his tone. 'I understand.' What a stupid thing to say, she thought angrily; you don't understand a thing about him and probably never will, and at this precise moment she almost hated him. 'I doubt it.' He reached across and took her hand in his, and she concentrated with all her might on stopping the quiver that was shaking her insides showing on the outside. 'Just let it drop, will you, there's a good girl?' He raised her chin up to meet her eyes in a direct gaze. 'Let's just concentrate on the job in hand for the time being and let things take their course.' His voice was very gentle and she suddenly felt like bursting into tears. She was horrified at her lack of control. 'That's fine by me.' Her voice sounded wobbly and she hunted for something safe to say. 'What are those women doing?' He turned to follow her gaze to where the women had stepped off the road and were gathering round some pine trees, going deeper into the forest after a few minutes. 'They're gathering resin from the trees,' he said quietly. 'It's quite a thriving industry and they use the resin for pitch and turpentine. I understand a considerable amount is exported.' 'Doesn't it kill the trees?' she asked to give herself time. 'It's only done the last two years before felling and a third of the land surface here is covered in pine trees, so there is no shortage. The men cut a hole in each trunk with a special long-bladed axe before fixing a little metal cup below it into which drips the resin. In spring and autumn it's quite a common sight.' His voice was dry; he had recognised the diversion.

'I see.' The women had disappeared from sight, and after one more piercing glance at her face he started the engine again, his eyes narrowed and his face grim. 'I'm not really a monster, honey-bee.' They had just pulled into the drive and Ines waved her hand in the distance. 'Not all the time, anyway. You just tend to hit the fire button.' 'I know that.' She glanced at his watchful face, her eyes cool. 'As you say, the job is the important thing at the moment.' 'Did I say that?' he muttered as he jumped down from the seat and moved round to lift her down, and then Ines and Pires were on them and there was no time for further conversation. Pires and his army of workmen had made remarkable progress in six weeks and Marshall seemed pleased as they toured the site. The outside of the house had been restored to its former splendour and the land cleared and excavated for the proposed swimming-pool. All the interior rooms had been cleaned and replastered with three of the upstairs rooms plumbed ready to be fitted out as bathrooms. Two of the downstairs rooms had had the dividing wall taken down to provide the space for a large fitted kitchen and breakfast-room, and the small courtyard had been quite transformed. Kelsey had had the floor laid with azure-blue tiles to match the front porch and a small fountain erected in the corner, although as yet water to the site was disconnected. 'That's come together well.' Marshall's face expressed his delight with the courtyard and Kelsey felt a small throb of satisfaction; it had been wholly her idea. 'I understand the swimming-pool will be started soon, at the same time as the bathrooms and kitchen. Have you got the sketches for those?'

She worked hard sketching possible variations and ideas all morning, and by midday Marshall was satisfied that all potential problems had been dealt with. 'We haven't done the interior fabrics and furniture,' she said as he ordered her to pack away her things. 'I've only got a rough idea of the colours you want and there are masses—' 'You deal with the rest,' he said firmly. She looked at him in amazement. 'Marshall, this is your house, and you're the one who's going to live in it. You might not like what I choose.' 'I'll like it.' She knew the tone. It meant no further discussion was possible. 'Be it on your own head.' She looked at him helplessly, and his lips curved in a wry smile as his eyes stroked her face. 'It usually is.' She glanced away quickly; he was too close. She trotted by his side to the Range Rover after they had made their farewells, and he helped her up into her seat. 'Do you need to go back to the hotel first?' 'First?' She looked at him in surprise. 'I'm taking you out to lunch and then we'll have a drive this afternoon. Would you like to change?' It was a fait accompli. 'I am a bit sticky,' she replied slowly as her stomach tightened. He nodded in acquiescence and drove swiftly to the hotel. The sun was very hot now and she was glad of the big straw hat that Ines had bought her the first day— it afforded welcome protection for her fair skin.

'Half an hour OK?' She bobbed her head as he stopped outside her room. 'I'm number twenty just down the corridor if you need me any time.' I need you all the time, she thought wryly as she closed the door. Unfortunately the feeling was not reciprocated, and therein lay the problem. She flung herself down on the bed and lay there for a minute in the quiet warmth, her mind racing. She wanted to go out alone with him, of course she did; she hadn't seen him for weeks and her need to be with him was making her body ache. And yet she knew it was just asking for trouble. 'Damn, damn, damn!' She jerked herself up and stamped into the bathroom to ran a cool bath. He was making her head hurt! She reluctantly left the water after five minutes and towelled herself dry, slipping on a thin silk robe while she applied a light touch of eyeshadow and mascara to her eyes and fixed her hair into a high loose knot on the top of her head. It felt wonderful to have her neck bare— she hadn't realised how warm the weight of her hair was— and the style enhanced the soft beauty of her large amber eyes and honey-tinted skin. She had discarded her earlier skirt and blouse and drew a pale green shirtwaister dress in light cotton from the wardrobe, toning it with matching low-heeled sandals in soft leather. At the last moment as she left the room she grabbed a pair of dark sunglasses that were on the table with her sketches, not so much as protection against the sun's brilliance but more as a form of defence against those piercing dark eyes that seemed to be able to read her thoughts at times. Any barrier was better than none.

She tapped gently on the door to his room, opening it warily in answer to his growl of welcome. 'It's only me, Marshall.' She could hear him splashing in the bathroom and then his low voice reached her. 'Sorry, Kelsey, you're ahead of me this time. I had an important telephone call as soon as I got back and I've only just got off the phone. Sit down a while and I'll be as quick as I can.' He was as good as his word, appearing through the bathroom door within two or three minutes and causing her spine to dissolve in the process. He was stark naked except for a brief towel tied loosely round his hips, and his big-muscled body was lean and brown, his broad chest liberally covered with curling dark hair in which tiny drops of water glittered like jewels. She knew she was staring but was horrified to find she couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight of him. He exuded such blatant virile masculinity that it stopped her breath and was causing her toes to curl into tight little buds. 'I won't be a minute.' 'What?' She raised dazed eyes to meet his indolent, lazy gaze and knew instantly that he was aware of the effect he was having on her and loving every minute of it. 'I said I won't be a minute,' he repeated silkily, and she nodded distractedly, forcing her eyes away from his with sheer will-power. How could she hate and love someone at the same time? She picked up a magazine from the table near by and sat perched on the edge of an easy chair while he pulled some clothes from the wardrobe. Please don't let him dress in here, she prayed silently, her pulse frantic and a deep flush staining her cheeks. She was burningly conscious of the dark figure just out of her line of vision, and knew from the tight curling sensation in her stomach that he was donning his clothes in relaxed casualness, his movements calm

and unhurried. She flicked over the pages of the magazine with concentrated intensity, and when a few moments later he moved to stand by her side, clothed now in light grey cotton trousers and a short-sleeved shirt, she looked up with a feeling of relief to meet his amused gaze. 'I didn't know you were so interested in model engineering,' he drawled slowly. 'It's a particular interest of mine; I must show you a steam engine I acquired a few years ago.' For a moment she didn't have a clue what he was talking about but then her gaze dropped again to the book in her hands and she realised it was a specialised magazine he must have brought with him from England. How like him to enjoy her embarrassment! She stiffened defensively and bit back the hot words that had jumped into her mind. She would only come off worst in any verbal conflict. 'Are you ready?' She rose as she spoke and avoided his eyes, compelling her mind to concentrate on the images of Anna and Jade. It didn't matter what had turned him into the person he was—what did matter was that she didn't forget for a moment that this was Marshall, cool, ruthless Marshall, who amused himself for a short time every now and again with a different woman and then discarded her like an old newspaper. There was no reason to expect he would treat her any differently from the rest if she fell prey to the madness that had taken her over—he mustn't suspect for a minute that she felt anything else but wary friendship for him. Laura was a spectre she couldn't compete with; no doubt the years had made her image all the more brilliant in his mind. It was all hopeless. 'I thought we'd eat at a little place Ines recommended this morning. It's a few miles but we've time. OK?' 'Fine.' She answered automatically. Her mind definitely was not on food.

He allowed her to walk out of the room without making any effort to touch her, but as they walked down the flight of stairs and into the small shady lobby of the hotel he took her hand in his and looked down at her, his firm lips parting in a warm, lazy smile that had more than a hint of mockery about it. 'Safe here?' 'I don't know what you mean.' She stiffened angrily. 'Now why don't I believe that?' His smile widened as she snatched her hand away. 'We are engaged, Kelsey. It's quite in order for me to hold your hand now and again.' 'You know it's not real.' Her eyes sparkled with self- protecting rage as they stepped into the pure blinding sunlight and walked over to the Range Rover parked near by. 'You don't have to pretend all the time. It gets on my nerves.' , 'Maybe I like to,' he answered blandly, his eyes veiled... She looked at him shakily. 'Well, I don't.' 'You might if you let yourself relax long enough to try it.' 'And become yet another of your has-beens? No, thank you,' she said emphatically. "That sort of merry- go-round is not for me.' She took a step away from him as she spoke, and he frowned. 'I see.' His voice was thoughtful. 'But you want me physically, don't you, Kelsey?' She froze with her hand on the car door as her startled eyes met his cool gaze. 'You flatter yourself.' Her words were a whisper and in spite of their content almost confirmation of what he had just suggested. He said nothing, his expression one of quiet, quizzical cynicism. 'You're the most conceited—'.

'Not really conceited,' he interrupted her deliberately, his dark eyes tight on her flushed face. 'I do believe in facing facts, though, which is something I suspect you avoid.' She glared at him. Who did he think he was anyway? 'Get in the vehicle, Kelsey.' There was a slight throb of amusement in his voice which was not lost on her and made her wish for a second she had the nerve to walk back into the hotel. 'I've no intention of having a somewhat...intimate discussion with you in the middle of a Portuguese car park with the temperature in the eighties.' 'I didn't start it.' She settled herself into her seat quickly after scrambling into the Range Rover before he could help her, tossing her head defiantly. 'Don't blame me.' 'Don't be childish.' His voice was cold. She had a sudden and overwhelming longing to hit him. His cool imperturbability was intensely and painfully infuriating. As he eased his long body into the space beside her she kept her gaze rigidly in front, and then started violently as his hand reached out and touched the engagement ring on the third finger of her left hand. 'Steady.' He looked at her strangely. 'You're very nervous.' 'You make me nervous.' She had replied before she had time to consider her words and then bit her lip angrily as she heard their import. Idiot! He would make the most of that little remark. Curiously he didn't, merely starting the engine after one last long, considering search of her tight face and drawing out on to the dirtroad outside the hotel grounds with his usual panache, leaving her to the doubtful comfort of her own thoughts. She sat tense and still for the first couple of miles and then the slow, lazy beauty of the land began to work its spell as the combination of bright warmth and beautiful scenery relaxed her stiff body. He was

right, she was nervous, and she couldn't afford to be. She needed all her wits about her if they were to part with their shaky relationship intact after the next few days of close contact. She knew he wouldn't force himself on her, but with the searing honesty that was an integral part of her make-up she also knew he wouldn't have to; she was like a ripe plum ready to fall into his outstretched hand. She closed her eyes for a brief moment and took a deep breath. She wished she were more experienced, wished she had slept with a man before—perhaps then she would have had more instinctive knowledge of how to protect herself, but even as the thought registered in her brain she knew it was nonsense. She loved him, it was as simple as that, and nothing that could have happened in the past or would happen in the future could save her from the power her own weakness had given to the cold, ruthless man by her side.

CHAPTER SEVEN 'NICE little place, isn't it?' They had driven for half an hour and come to rest in a tranquil little town that had been standing quietly in the sun since Roman times. Kelsey could see there had been some building work in the not too distant past, a couple of fine houses and a shopping precinct stood patently new among the squat whitewashed cottages that had made up the original town, but the additions were tasteful and unobtrusive, being too far from the dry, hot south to invite too many tourists. 'Ines said the locals come from far and near to that little restaurant on the hill.' She looked to where Marshall was pointing to see a charming, rambling white house set among orange groves quite separate to the rest of the town, high on a small hill overlooking the majority of the cottages. There was no road to reach it—that ended a good hundred yards before the incline—just a rough and meandering dirt-track that led to the wide, arched doors. 'Come on.' He helped her from the Range Rover and took her hand in his as they walked, and immediately a slight tinge of pink flooded her cheeks, giving a rosy hue to her face that had nothing to do with the sunshine. She remembered the sunglasses in her handbag and hastily fumbled for them with her free hand; she had the feeling she would be glad of their anonymity during the next few hours. They reached the inn in minutes, passing through the open doors in the surrounding white wall and into the grounds, where a good number of tables were scattered under the orange trees with the sun dappling the crisp white tablecloths and lacy wooden chairs. The thick foliage of ancient bougainvillaea covered the interior walls, protecting the eyes from the brilliant white outside and creating warm gentle shade and enchanting picturesque beauty.

Most of the tables were occupied, but as they stood just inside the doorway the beaming, fat proprietor came hurrying to their side, his welcome genuine if a little theatrical. He showed them to a small table for two in a quiet corner of the garden with great flourish, returning immediately with a large ornate menu which he gave to Marshall as though bestowing a great service to a valued friend, and a small jug of white house wine which he insisted was his 'gift of refreshment after their long journey'. As he had no idea of who they were or how long they had travelled Kelsey thought the gesture was rather nice. She had found in the six weeks she had lived in this country that such an act of hospitality was typical of the Portuguese. 'Would you like me to order for you?' She glanced at the menu and nodded quickly; she couldn't read a word of the scrawled flamboyant script. Marshall gave their order to the large redcheeked waitress standing to attention by his side, and she bustled away with a shy smile once it was complete, leaving them alone. Kelsey glanced up to find his dark eyes tight on her face. 'I've tried to play safe.' He smiled at her and she attempted to respond to his relaxed coolness, but the image of his near-naked body kept flashing uncomfortably at the back of her eyes and getting in the way. He leant back in his seat, his eyes narrowed slits. 'What did you choose?' she asked uncomfortably after a moment. 'Ham with fresh figs for starters, and then chicken, OK?' She nodded in relief. The smells wafting from other tables were extremely spicy. 'And you can take those off. We're in the shade.' He had removed the sunglasses before she could protest and she glared at him angrily, enraged by his calm arrogance. The ham proved delicious but when the chicken arrived she looked at it warily, and as she glanced up she caught Marshall's eye and noticed he was trying very hard not to smile. 'Try it, you'll love it.'

She frowned doubtfully but did as he suggested and found the spiced meat excellent. 'They brush it with a hot piri piri sauce as it grills, hence the colour,' Marshall said quietly. 'The salad is flavoured with coriander—it's delicious.' She dutifully ate a small mouthful and gave her approval. 'Good.' He relaxed back in his chair. 'I thought I'd know what you liked.' She found his dark gaze had wandered to her lips as he spoke and hastily took a sip of wine. He could make the most casual remark into a caress. It was after they had chosen from the vast cheese board, and were sitting quietly sipping the glass of vintage port their host had again insisted was on the house, that Marshall suddenly reached across and took her left hand in his. 'I have something I'd like to put to you, and please think a moment before you reply.' This was it. Her suspicions had been right. He was tired of their arrangement and wanted to let her down lightly. Her thoughts brought her eyes, a soft gold in the dappled sunlight, shooting up to meet his and she moved involuntarily, wrenching her hand from his with a tight, sharp movement that brought a frown to his dark face. 'Let me explain.' His voice was very cold and she sensed he was keeping his temper in check with great difficulty. He took her hand again but this time his touch was almost cruel in its tightness, and his eyes dared her to move. 'You accused me of conceit earlier but I was merely making an observation that you are attracted to me physically.' Her colour flared but his gaze was steady and the deep-timbred voice was as smooth as silk. 'It is becoming increasingly...inconvenient for me to be unmarried; I need a reliable

hostess at least a couple of times a week these days and I'm tired of relying on hired help or—' He stopped abruptly. 'The current girlfriend?' Kelsey put in baldly. 'Exactly.' She noticed he had a tinge of colour under the high cheekbones, but it was gone in an instant and she decided it must have been a trick of the light. 'Situations like the one with Jade are both time- consuming and irritating and I have no time to waste on such trivialities. I need to put my life in order and have consistency.' He was speaking quite clinically and appeared totally cool and relaxed, but she found the trembling in the pit of her stomach was growing with each measured word along with her anger. 'You want to be free of our engagement?' His eyes narrowed slightly at her biting tone. 'In a manner of speaking. I want you to marry me.' 'I can't believe what I'm hearing.' She looked at him as the shaking transferred itself to her limbs. As he felt the tremor in her body through the hand he was holding swift anger tautened the handsome features, and he let go of her abruptly, settling back in his seat like a dark avenging angel with his eyes fiery. 'Would it be so bad to be married to me?' His voice was ominously quiet. 'But we don't love each other,' she began desperately, recoiling as he gave a hard bark of a laugh. 'I'm talking about marriage, not love.' He leaned forward as he spoke and his eyes held hers intently. 'I've seen that you are very good at your job, Kelsey, and I would have no objection to you continuing

with your career—in fact I'll set you up in your own business; I don't expect you to be at my beck and call all the time.' She stared at him dumbly. 'You would have your own car, own bank account and so on, financially independent and quite secure.' His eyes were grinding into her brain. 'But I would expect you to share my bed and be available when I need you to entertain and so on.' After a stunned silence he downed his port in one swallow. 'Well?' 'There must be hundreds of girls who would jump at the chance, Marshall.' She paused shakily. 'I don't see—' 'I have no intention of considering the exercise as if it were a cattle show.' Again there was no expression she could discern in either his face or voice. 'I have known you since you were very young, and I can trust you. Unfortunately I can't say the same about any of the other ladies I'm acquainted with.' 'You didn't trust me very much this morning,' she said weakly. To share his bed! A thousand images flashed before her eyes. 'Oh, that.' He waved his hand dismissively. 'Merely a crossing of the wires. Well?' he asked again impatiently. 'Look, this is crazy, Marshall.' She felt stunned as she stared at his face; there was no warmth or comfort in the dark, enigmatic features. 'We agreed on a fake engagement and I was very grateful to you for helping me out of a spot, but to actually carry it through... It's...' She couldn't find the word to describe her amazement and growing alarm. It meant so little to him. 'It's logical,' he said harshly. 'I could give you everything you want and I would satisfy you in bed.' It was said quite unemotionally. 'You wouldn't find yourself in the position Greg engineered, and neither of us would lose out. If the sexual thing was put in its place

I'm sure we would get on very well on a day-to-day level, and you know you want me.' She suddenly felt icy cold and furiously angry. Such arrogance! 'That's not enough.' She was amazed her voice was calm. 'Of course it is.' He looked at her with a strange light in his eyes. 'We would be compatible, I know it, and companionship would grow from that. Sex is the main criterion, after all.' 'But that's not what marriage is about,' she said slowly. 'Most marriages consist of little more.' His determination was relentless. 'If you are worried about my commitment, don't be.' His voice was suddenly ringingly sincere. 'If you married me, Kelsey, I would never look at another woman.' A touch of granite showed in his face. 'And I would make sure you never looked at another man.' His voice was as cold as his eyes. She stared at him as her mind geared into overdrive. If she was married to him she would never want to look at another man! She caught her thoughts in horror. What was she doing? She wasn't considering this ridiculous suggestion, was she? There was one vital consideration he knew nothing about, and that was that she loved him, hopelessly. She was sure if he had even suspected a chance of such a thing happening he would have dropped her long before this like a hot brick. He wanted convenience and order and had made it plain love was simply a four-letter word to him that had meant something in the distant past but was as dead to him today as the dodo. He would crush her to nothing and wouldn't even know he was doing it. 'I'm sorry, Marshall.' She raised her head wearily to find his dark eyes tight on her pale face. 'I can't agree.' The anger drained out of her in a big flood and she wanted to cry.

'"Can't" is not a word that features in my vocabulary.' The cold voice was hard. 'Think about it. I don't want an answer until Thursday when I fly back.' 'There's absolutely no point,' she said bleakly. 'I said think about it.' His face did one of its mercurial changes and suddenly he was smiling, his eyes full of self-mockery. 'It makes a pleasant change to be the hunter.' His words confirmed her thoughts. He wanted her because he thought she didn't want him; he had had enough of women flinging themselves at him. The thought crystallised her resolve. It would be suicide to agree to marry him— the hunted would become the prey and a wolf showed no mercy to its victim. She felt her breath constrict painfully in her throat and took a sip of her port to ease the blockage. The paroxysm passed but not the conviction that had caused it. They sat for a while longer in the warm, scented garden, and as they rose to leave Kelsey was surprised to note that it was mid-afternoon. 'It's later than I thought.' She glanced at his dark face for an instant. 'Don't tell me that's because you were having such a good time,' he answered with dry, cruel humour, and she flinched as they strolled out into the bright sunlight, amid waves and nods from the beaming innkeeper, forcing her face into a bland mask with considerable effort. They walked back to the Range Rover in silence. The interior was too hot for comfort, although Marshall had parked it under a large spreading plane tree, and it was some time before she could lean back against the soft leather. 'They say this warm spell is due to end soon,', Marshall remarked conversationally as they sped along the rough-cut road, the rush of air wonderfully cooling on her hot face. 'It's normally only about sixty-five degrees at this time of the year, give or take a degree or two, but they seem to be having an Indian summer.' He glanced at

her by his side, waiting for some response, but she merely nodded absently as she peered out of the window. 'This is not the way we came.' She glanced at him sharply. 'I'm not ready to go back yet.' Obviously her opinion wasn't worth considering! 'I'm afraid you'll have to grit those sharp little white teeth and put up with my distasteful company a little longer.' He stared out of the windscreen as he spoke. He seemed to be in the grip of a filthy mood, she thought in surprise, wondering what had caused such a frown on the handsome face. 'That's all right, I don't mind,' she said quietly. 'Hoy very kind of you.' Acid dripped from his voice. Marshall took a route that led through low rolling hills and sleeping valleys with the odd little town picked out in mellow old stone and whitewashed walls. They passed a marble quarry, the only sign of activity in the indolent countryside, and later, as dusk began to blur the outlines of the tall, graceful pines, majestic oaks and numerous orange and lemon groves, he drew to a halt in a minuscule square in the middle of a tiny town tucked away in the hills. The whole journey had been in taut silence. 'Do you know this place?' Kelsey looked round in surprise, finding herself, suddenly hungry in spite of the large meal a few hours before. The warm night air was redolent of cooking, but now the darkness had fallen like a canopy over the quiet streets and she could see no sign of life. 'Henrique lives here. You remember I told you about him? He was looking for a house for me.' She nodded in reply as he continued. 'I'd half promised I would drop by some time over the next few days. He wants to meet you.'

'Me?' She looked at him, startled, and his face was wintry as he replied. 'Yes, you. What's unusual about that? It's customary in these parts for an engaged couple to actually be together occasionally.' His voice was tight. , 'Where does he live?' she asked carefully. He pointed to what looked like an old garage gate in the large white wall that ran down one side of the main street. 'He owns the only pub in the village, and everyone seems to collect here about nine in the evening. It's a bit early yet but it'll give you time to meet Henrique— he's a bit of a character.' Marshall rattled the gate loudly, and after a few minutes a small childish voice sounded inside in rapid Portuguese. 'It's Marshall, Amalia.' The gate was immediately swung open, and instead of the small child she expected to see a tall, slim woman flung herself into Marshall's arms with a rapid volley of undecipherable chatter. 'His wife,' Marshall explained over the brunette's dark, glossy head, and Kelsey nodded dumbly. It was stupid, she knew, but it hurt unbearably to see the other woman in his arms. She followed Marshall through the gate and into a tiny courtyard which led immediately into a cave-like room that seemed to stretch indefinitely into the shadowed distance. It was lined with small tables on which candles were flickering dimly, but as yet there was no one there but themselves. She was enchanted to see the stone walls had been beautifully painted with numerous pictures of singers, bullfighters and the odd family scene of children gathered round a full table or playing in what looked like the village square, small faces alight with the joy of being alive.

She noticed it took a good few minutes before Amalia let go of Marshall's arm and went off to find her husband. She might be happily married, Kelsey thought grimly, but she certainly wasn't blind to Marshall's charms, and he seemed to have a great deal of affection for her too. 'She's very beautiful,' Kelsey said as casually as she could, and Marshall nodded unsmilingly. 'Yes, she is. Henrique is a very fortunate man.' Kelsey felt a little thud in her heart region and turned away quickly. Was that why they had come here? So he could see Amalia? She shook herself mentally, suddenly ashamed. Stop it, Kelsey, she thought crossly. Whatever's the matter with you? Henrique turned out to be a tall, statuesque giant of a man, heavily pockmarked but undeniably attractive with a wicked twinkle in his dark eyes. Kelsey could see immediately why the two men were friends. 'So this is your English rose, my friend,' he said approvingly to Marshall as his gaze swept over her pink face. 'You are a lucky man!' He slapped Marshall hard on the back. 'That's what he said about you,' Kelsey said smilingly, and Henrique nodded vigorously as his face broke into a big grin. 'Yes, yes, we are both lucky. But me and my Amalia, we have eight children!' He held up eight fingers on his huge hands. 'You have some catching up to do!' He roared with laughter at the expression on her face and even Marshall managed a wiy smile. They sat drinking wine while Amalia put the children to bed, and Henrique explained there was a barbecue each night. 'You stay as my guests, yes?' he said warmly. 'Relax a little, have fun?' He cast a mildly enquiring, slightly puzzled glance at his friend. 'This man, he

works too hard,' he said slowly to Kelsey. 'Life is not to be taken seriously. You do a little work, make love, have babies...' He waved graphic hands encompassing the room. 'That is what it is all about.' 'I'm sure you're absolutely right, Henrique,' Marshall said smoothly as Kelsey squirmed in her seat, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. She suddenly longed to blurt out to the jovial, friendly Portuguese man that this wasn't what it seemed, they weren't really engaged, it didn't mean anything; but of course that was impossible. Marshall would never forgive her. 'He has often talked about you, little English rose,' Henrique continued cheerfully. 'It is time the net was gathered in—' 'I think that's the first customer banging on the door, Henrique,' Marshall interrupted coolly as a determined knocking reached their ears, and as Henrique left them Kelsey turned to Marshall enquiringly. 'Have you talked about me to him?' she asked before she could stop herself. 'Of course,' Marshall said expressionlessly. 'Henrique knew of your father and his friendship to me. I have often talked about his family.' 'Oh, I see.' She felt horribly disappointed and curiously deflated but wasn't allowed to dwell on her feelings. Within minutes the two older children, a boy of seventeen and a girl of sixteen, began to set the tables with red earthenware mugs and gleaming cutlery ready for the evening festivities, and the long room slowly began to fill. Henrique placed a large jug of dark frothy wine in front of them which proved quite delicious, and from Marshall's red lips she assumed her own were gradually being stained the same deep crimson.

A huge side of meat, reeking of the distinctive piri piri garlicky tang, was slowly turning on a large earthenware barbecue in the middle of the smoke-filled room, and after an hour or so Kelsey began to feel she had been removed back in time to the Middle Ages and was present at a medieval banquet. 'Enjoying it?' Marshall moved closer to her as he spoke and settled her into his side, draping his arm round her shoulders. The gesture brought a pang of indescribable delight, and suddenly the somewhat disastrous day was transformed as she leant against him and felt his lips touch her hair in a brief caress. At the end of the room Jaime, Henrique's oldest son, began to sing a slow, haunting song to the accompaniment of his guitar and, as the daughter served them with large steaming slices of meat and hunks of fresh bread along with several small bowls of vegetables and sauces, Henrique refilled their jug of wine. Marshall lifted her chin with one hand as he moved away slightly to eat. 'Crazy atmosphere, isn't it?' he asked lightly as he placed a swift hard kiss on her lips, and as she nodded silently he kissed her again, long and lingeringly. 'Eat, wench!' There was a glow in his eyes that had been absent all afternoon since their conversation at the restaurant, and as the evening progressed he drew her closer against him until she could feel his heartbeat in time with her own and felt drowned in the fresh, clean smell of him. Just after midnight the first few people began to leave, and Marshall whispered quietly in her ear, 'Time to go, Kelsey. We've quite a drive back.' He sounded as reluctant as she felt to leave Henrique's own particular brand of magic, and she stirred in his arms, willing the moment to go on forever. Here time had stood still for a few brief wonderful hours. Outside all the difficulties and heartaches would crowd in again, and she wanted him like this, holding her close to him so she could feel every line of his magnificent body and know, if only fleetingly, that she was the woman in his thoughts.

As they made their farewells to Henrique and Amalia, the Portuguese woman thrust a small, beautifully carved wooden doll into her hands. 'For you,' she said haltingly in pidgin English. 'To make the big strong babies with your man.' 'Thank you.' Kelsey didn't know where to put herself and at her side she could feel Marshall hiding his amusement with great restraint, shaking with silent laughter. Once in the Range Rover she turned to him, her cheeks still pink with embarrassment. 'What was all that about?' she asked stiffly. 'I think it's a fertility doll,' Marshall answered coolly with just the slightest tremor in his voice betraying his inward mirth. 'Amalia is still steeped in the old traditions. It didn't mean anything. She thought she was doing you a favour.' 'She was wrong, then, wasn't she?' At the reminder that this was all unreal, a farce, she had the overwhelming impulse to smash the doll against the front of the vehicle, her hurt and anger intensified by the obvious enjoyment he had found in the Portuguese woman's wellmeaning actions. This was just a joke to him, she was a joke! 'Hey, come on.' He had started the engine but let it die again, turning to her as he caught sight of the outrage on her white face. 'Amalia didn't mean to offend you. Having plenty of babies is still considered a mark of femininity in some of these more remote villages. She didn't mean any harm.' She stared at his concerned face as her thoughts churned painfully. Don't you know I'd give the world to have your babies? she thought as a dart of sheer rage turned her eyes bright. Can't you see that all this is tearing me apart? Don't you care at all? 'I know that,' she said coldly as she kept her voice even with tremendous effort. 'It's just a little misplaced in the circumstances,

don't you think, considering I've no intention of sharing either your bed or your life?' The words came out more stark and cruel than she had intended, but even as she spoke and saw ,the stony look replace the concern on his face she realised she had wanted to hurt him, wanted to wipe out that amusement he had felt. How dared he laugh at her? How dared he? 'Maybe so.' He stared at her for one last long moment and then started the engine without another word, his face icy and his mouth hard. I hate him, I detest him. The thoughts ground in her mind all the way home and once back at the hotel she was out of the Range Rover before he could move, walking ahead of him to her room and shutting the door in his face after a cursory goodnight. She was still standing fully dressed in stunned misery when the light knock sounded at her door minutes later. She walked across the room and called, softly, 'Yes?' 'It's Marshall.' His voice was quiet. 'Yes?' 'Open the damn door, woman.' She recognised the intense irritation in his tone and, after hesitating for a moment more, slid the bolt reluctantly. 'Yes?' She opened the door a minute crack. 'For crying out loud open this door properly or I'll break the thing down.' He was clearly at the end of his tether and she thrust it open forcefully to its fullest extent. 'Well?' She moved quickly as the door boomeranged back.

'What the hell is the matter with you, woman?' 'Absolutely nothing! Goodnight.' She went to shut the door again but he moved quickly, putting one hand on the handle as he gripped her hair with his other one, forcing her head back so she had to look up into his furious face. She knew a second of fear as she realised how angry he was, but then her own rage swamped the apprehension. 'I've no intention of raping you, Kelsey.' His eyes were savage. 'I just wanted to say there was a note under my door and Pires wants us at the site first thing tomorrow. Problems. Can you be ready at eight?' 'I guess so.' She forced the words through shaking lips. 'Right.' He looked down at her huge amber eyes and the mass of redgold hair in his fingers and let his hands fall to his sides in a curiously controlled movement. 'Eight it is, then.' He stepped back as he spoke, shutting the door in her face with a sharp bang. She stood for a full minute staring blankly at the polished wood and then began to rip her clothes off with angry quick movements, tearing two buttons off in the process. This was it! She wasn't putting up with any more of his cold arrogance. If he wanted to play his little games fooling everyone he could get some other idiot to help out. She had had enough. She was going to tell him in the morning that she wanted out and wanted it now. It wasn't until she was lying in bed in the cool darkness that the original reason for the deception swum into her bruised mind. It had all been for her. To save her face in the light of Greg's proposed slander. He had done it all for her! She groaned and turned over,

twisting the sheets round her in a loose knot. Why had she started all this? Anything would be better than what she was feeling now.

She was ready for Marshall's light knock at eight the next morning in spite of hardly having slept. She stepped out immediately to join him in the corridor with her folder of sketches and plans under her arm. 'Good morning. * -She kept her voice brisk and airy and hoped the deep violet shadows under her eyes that no amount of cosmetics had been able to hide remained unnoticed. 'I'll let you know my opinion of the morning later,' he said drily as he took the heavy folder out of her arms. She noticed his piercing gaze lingering for a moment on the smudges under her eyes and then he turned away, nodding for her to follow him. He had kept her sunglasses when he had taken them off the day before and she couldn't bring herself to ask him for them. Their anonymity would have been most welcome at this moment. She now knew exactly what a wrung-out dishcloth felt like. They drove in tense silence to the site where work was already under way under the hot morning sun. Pires advanced immediately 'on the Range Rover as they drew up beside the house, and hurried them over to where a collection of pipes and fittings were lying warming in the sun. It was quickly apparent that the Portuguese builder had misread one of the sketches, and after trying unsuccessfully to explain the mistake to him Kelsey left Marshall to clarify the details. A massive cement-mixing lorry was churning away to one side of the proposed swimming-pool and already it was beginning to take shape. Kelsey noticed Pires had brought his two young children with him again; his wife was expecting twins any day and the five-yearold boy and his four-year-old sister were too much for her to handle.

She stood idly for a few minutes watching them playing some complicated game of their own making, and then returned to the two men as Marshall called her name. It was when she was explaining the layout of the kitchen to Pires that she was aware of Marshall stiffening by her side. 'What—?' She heard his muffled exclamation at the same time as he started running, and, as she and Pires turned, her horrified eyes took in the sight that Marshall's quick mind had grasped. The huge lorry was moving, slowly, towards the two small figures of the children, who had their backs turned to it and were crouched on the ground engrossed in something they had drawn in the soft sand. The lorry had been parked on a small incline just above the large area that needed to be concreted, and as it gathered momentum the large wheels with their dreadful crushing power were lined up directly with the two small, thin bodies. She heard Marshall shouting as he ran, but with the noise of the mixer churning relentlessly on the back of the vehicle it wasn't until he had almost reached them that they turned, and then the bulk of the lorry was inches away. Kelsey was never very sure of the sequence of the next few seconds. She was aware of a blur of denim as Marshall threw himself at the children, grasping their slight bodies in his arms, and it seemed as though in the same instant the mass of grinding metal reached the three of them. There was a massive shuddering bang and she must have shut her eyes for a second because when she next became aware of the world about her the lorry was lying in the pit that had been excavated for the swimming-pool and of Marshall and the two children there was no sign. Then she was running, screaming and running, with Pires and some of the workmen by her side, to gaze over into the crater, terrified at the sight that might meet her streaming eyes. For a moment her tears

blinded her and then she was aware of Pires shouting something in Portuguese at the same time as he and several of his men leapt into the hole near to the grinding lorry, which was now belching thick black smoke from its engine and screeching like a wounded animal. 'Marshall! Marshall!' She could hear someone shouting hysterically in the background but was unaware it was her voice until one of the workmen who was standing by her side shook her violently and slapped her face, apologising profusely in his native tongue as she lapsed into a dazed silence. She saw Pires, white-faced and shaking uncontrollably, lift first one crying child, then the other, into the arms of the men on top of the pit, and it registered on her frozen mind that they, at least, seemed relatively unharmed. But Marshall? Her mind was screaming his name even as her white lips were dumb with shock. She couldn't live without him... 'I don't want to appear helpless but I'd appreciate a hand out of this damn hole.' As she heard that deep, laconic voice she saw him crawl seemingly from the very bowels of the lorry out into the bottom of the pit, and stared at him as he stood shakily to his feet, covered in a mixture of cement and brick-red dirt that clung to his clothes like blood. She resembled a pale, slender statue as her mind tried to take in what she was seeing. He was alive. He was safe. He wasn't dead. Marshall. His name was a voiceless prayer, and there must have been something in her stillness that reached out to him because he turned his head and met her dazed eyes just as they began to close and she sank, very quickly and very completely, into a dead faint on the baked earth, unaware that he shouted her name as he leapt like a bullet from the cavernous hole.

'Marshall...' She murmured his name as she came round in his arms. The long shudder she gave passed through both their bodies, and for a moment the feeling that was swelling up inside her seemed too gigantic to hold in her slim frame. 'I thought you were dead.' She lost sight of his dark face as the sobs that were tearing at her flooded out of her eyes, mouth and nose in a torrent of weeping, the sound of which caused him to flinch in protest and pull her to him as his face twisted. 'Kelsey, it's all right...it's all right, sweetheart.' The sound of his voice only increased the enormity of what she would have lost, and he wisely let her cry it out, stroking her hair with one shaking hand while the workmen tended to the lorry and Pires took his children to his car. 'Come on.' He picked her up in his arms and carried her over to the shade of the house in spite of her feeble protests. 'This is typical, you know, Kelsey,' he murmured teasingly into her hair as her sobs quietened. 'I'm the one that feels as though I've been used like a punchbag and you're the one getting all the comforting. I could do with a bit of that myself.' He was trying to lighten the atmosphere but as she gazed up into his face and saw a huge bruise already turning blue across his cheekbone she had to bite hard on her bottom lip to stop bursting out into fresh sobs. She loved him and she had nearly lost him forever. 'You could have been killed,' she said slowly as her eyes widened with remembered horror. 'That lorry...' '"Could have" doesn't count,' he said softly as he stroked back her hair from her hot face. 'Don't think about it. I don't intend to.' He hugged her to him again. 'But Marshall...'

'But nothing,' he said firmly as his gaze took in her quivering lips and huge saucer-like eyes. 'We're going back to the hotel and having a couple of pots of coffee and then you'll feel as right as rain. The kids are all right, I'm all right, end of story. OK?' 'OK.' Her voice was flat. 'I can walk now.' 'Maybe, but I rather like having you this close.' He looked down into her eyes as he carried her over to the Range Rover, and his dark face, streaked and grimy, was painfully precious. 'Marshall.' She touched his arm as he went to move away after lifting her into her seat. 'Yes?' His brown eyes were narrowed against the glare of the burning sun and she could see dark chest hair where his shirt had been ripped. Something turned over deep in her stomach but she forced herself to say the words that were in her heart before she had time to change her mind. She needed to be with him, at any cost. 'Do you still want to marry me?' For a second she thought he hadn't heard her as his expression didn't change but then she noticed his whole body had frozen into stillness. 'Marry you?' he said huskily. 'Yes, do you still want to?' 'Yes, I want to.' There was something in that complete lack of movement that she didn't understand. 'Then I accept.' She waited a moment as his eyes registered her words. 'What did you say?'

'I accept. I'll marry you. Whenever you want.' She found herself babbling and wished he'd do something, react in some way. 'Why?' He moved so close to her that she could see the tiny black hairs under his tanned chin and smell that lemony tang of his aftershave. He made no move to touch her, putting both his arms either side of the open door as he stared deep into her golden eyes. 'Why, Kelsey? What's made you change your mind?' Because I love you enough for both of us, her mind answered him silently. Because I can't live in a world that doesn't have you as its pivot. Because when I thought you were dead— 'Does it matter?' She brushed back her hair with a hand that trembled. 'It's what you want, isn't it?' 'Yes, it's what I want,' he said quietly. He moved round to the other side of the vehicle and climbed in beside her, starting the engine without another word. They drove for a few minutes in silence and then he drew into a small grassy curve off the road and switched off the ignition. She waited, trembling with a mixture of excitement and apprehension, for him to take her in his arms or make some light mocking comment, but he did neither, merely resting his muscled arms on the steering-wheel as he looked straight ahead across the small valley in front of them. 'It will be forever, Kelsey.' She didn't understand his lack of emotion and suddenly felt like crying. 'Not some careless arrangement that can be terminated in a few years. And it will be a real marriage in every sense of the word. You understand me?' 'Of course I do.' Her voice was as flat as his now.

'I don't think you do.' He glanced at her briefly and she was shocked by the savage hunger in his dark face. 'You have never slept with a man before; you don't know what it entails, do you?' 'I'm not a child, Marshall!' Her voice was high with outrage now. He shut his eyes for a second and shook his head. 'I sure as hell know that.' His voice was harsh with naked desire. 'So you're prepared? To share my bed and be my wife?' His wife! In spite of her fear her heart leapt with fierce joy. She would be his wife and all the Jades and the Annas in the world wouldn't be able to alter that. She would make him love her, even if it took the rest of her life. How could she have hesitated for so long? 'Yes, I'm prepared.' She looked at him with veiled eyes. 'And you can kiss me now.' 'I can?' There was the old mocking amusement in his voice but that flame of passion in his eyes flared hotly as he leant back lazily in his seat. 'Well, that's very gracious of you, my sweet.' He laughed softly at the look of surprise on her face. 'I'll do that very thing in a moment, but first there's one thing I want to make clear. There's no going back now.' He paused to emphasise his words. 'You've made a commitment of your own free will and I will keep you to it, whatever you feel in the future. It's irrevocable.' 'It is?' she asked weakly, and he nodded grimly. 'And now I'll take you somewhere where we can seal the bargain.' Her head shot up with a jerk. She tried to meet his gaze nonchalantly but the sudden rush of colour to her cheeks betrayed her and he smiled a smile that didn't reach those dark eyes. 'Want to back out already?'

'No.' She met his sardonic face with her eyes clear and steady. It was inevitable that he wouldn't see the need to wait. 'So be it.' As he got out of the Range Rover and walked round to her side of the vehicle she felt a moment's indescribable panic and then he was beside her, opening her door. 'We'll explore.' He indicated the narrow dirt-track leading to a deep, secluded, steep-sided valley that was rimmed in by small protecting hills and low, drifting white clouds. 'What about the coffee?' He smiled slowly, revealing his strong white teeth. 'Later, my sweet, much later.'

CHAPTER EIGHT 'A LAMB led to the slaughter.' Marshall's voice was mocking as he helped Kelsey over a stile into the lush meadow beyond that sloped down to a gently moving river in the distance, its banks a bright mass of tiny daisy-like flowers of white and scarlet and small trumpet-shaped blooms that exuded a rich, heavy perfume. It was a beautiful spot, and for a moment Marshall stood with his eyes shut, breathing in the fragrant air, and she noticed his face was pale under his tan. 'Are you all right?' she asked anxiously, and he turned towards her, his eyes smiling. 'Just glad to be alive, honey-bee.' His face held that strange expression she had come to recognise but not understand. He started walking down the gentle slope towards the river, holding her hand in his, and she felt her stomach knot in anticipation. Well, she had just agreed to marry him, hadn't she? Marshall being Marshall, he would claim the prize immediately, wouldn't he? A thrill of fear shot through her. The air was warm and sweet and as they reached the river-bank Marshall dropped to the ground, patting the grass beside him. 'Come here.' She sat down obediently next to him, her lashes fluttering down over her eyes like a veil. Did he know she was inexperienced? Really inexperienced? Would he expect too much, be disappointed? She opened her mouth to speak and then shut it again. What could she say, after all? Nothing that wouldn't sound like the old lines from a bad movie. Be gentle with me! The thought almost caused a nervous giggle to escape and she clamped her lips shut firmly. He would think she was mad. 'You're beautiful, honey-bee, really beautiful.' He was lying on one elbow, his dark face tender and his eyes hot.

'Thank you.' She looked at him helplessly, completely out of her depth. 'You're very handsome.' He stared at her for one startled moment and then burst into laughter. 'Oh, Kelsey, you'll be the death of me...' He rolled over to her side and as she stiffened he moved behind her, sliding his long, muscled legs either side of her body so that she was lying between them, her back against the hardness of his chest and his chin resting in the golden-red silk of her hair. The feel of his body through the thin material of her dress was burning her, and yet she couldn't move away. 'Caught in my net, little honey-bee.' His deep voice was slumbrous and rich. 'Shall I eat you alive?' She moved slightly to look at him but he caught her body between his thighs. 'No, stay still. And relax. Just relax.' That was easier said than done, she thought weakly as she felt the power of that steel frame holding her so tightly. Her stomach was churning and her mouth was dry, and still the white-hot sun beat down from a tranquil, untroubled sky. This couldn't be happening. Not to her. Things were moving so quickly. 'Will you be a submissive wife, Kelsey?' She could hear the laughter in his voice and felt intensely annoyed that she should be a quivering wreck while he savoured every moment of the situation. 'That depends...' 'On?' 'How well we get on, for one thing.' She could feel his heart beating against her back and it was doing unimaginable things to her precarious composure. 'And how well do you judge we get on now?'

'Not too badly...' 'We get on abominably but marriage will change all that.' She felt his body stir against her. 'Most of the tension is sexual frustration.' As his voice drawled to a halt she felt his lips against the nape of her neck and a shiver of delight ran down her spine. She lay quite still as he turned her over in his hold so that she was lying on top of his body, his face on a level with hers as he lay back in the thick green grass, and her full breasts resting against the hardness of his chest. 'You feel so good...' He moved so swiftly that she was hardly aware of it until he was raised over her, the sun blotted out by his powerful frame as he gently trailed his warm lips over every inch of her face before taking her mouth in a slow, deep kiss that had her aching for more. As his hands moved over her in tantalising sensual exploration she found herself revelling in the fresh, clean male smell that emanated from his brown skin, a trembling beginning deep in her limbs that was impossible to hide. His lips moved slowly, so slowly, to the velvet- smooth hollow at the base of her throat and then still further as he folded her blouse aside, his hands gentle and unhurried. He kissed her so thoroughly that she began to feel she would faint under his caresses as his hands and mouth worked a subtle magic that had her quivering against him in an agony of need. 'Marshall...' 'Yes, my sweet?' His voice was husky and low and she could feel his body betraying his desire, and yet there was something, an iron control, that was keeping him tightly in check.

His lips were burning where they touched and she would never have dreamed male hands could be so gentle as they elicited a response that had her whole body aflame with an alien need that was threatening to consume her. 'I can't bear it...' 'Can't you, my pet?' It was some moments before she realised he wasn't actually kissing her any more, and that the hands on her body were slowly straightening her dishevelled clothing. 'What's the matter?' She raised dazed eyes to his face but could read nothing in its imperturbable darkness. 'Nothing is the matter,' he said coolly as he sat up with his arms resting on his knees. 'But I thought...' Her voice trailed away at the deprecating gleam in his eyes. 'You thought I had brought you here in order to make love to you?' His voice was cold and expressionless with steel in its depths. She nodded slowly. 'You were right. I did make love to you, did I not?' 'Yes, but—' She stopped abruptly. 'Not...I mean, you didn't—' 'I didn't take you?' There was something here she didn't understand. Something of vital importance. 'No, and I shan't until there is a gold band on the third finger of y6ur left hand.' She stared at him in unconcealed amazement threaded with humiliation, her amber eyes yellow in the sunlight 'You've always had the idea I am little better than a cockerel in a farmyard.' His voice was velvet-smooth but she knew intuitively that he had deeply resented her opinion of him, and the anger and hurt had gone deep.

'There is only one way I can prove you wrong, isn't there?' She stared at him in an agony of confusion. 'I am not refusing what you offered so sweetly, Kelsey.' He paused to let the import of his words sink in. 'I am merely postponing my acceptance.' 'You—' 'No name-calling.' His eyes were chips of onyx. She looked at him as he rose to stand and stare into the distance, his broad shoulders outlined under the thin cotton of his shirt, still smudged and stained with dirt, and his dark skin glowing in the sun. He had never seemed so devastatingly handsome or so far from her. They were destined to misunderstand each other. She bit on her lips until she tasted blood to stop herself reaching out to him. She couldn't bear further rejection. 'Do you understand what I am trying to tell you?' 'Not really.' She glared at him to stop the tell-tale tears from forming in her eyes. 'I don't understand you at all.' 'If it's any consolation I feel exactly the same about you,' he said drily as he turned to face her, his eyes cloudy. 'What are we getting married for, then?' She stood up quickly with an angry little jerk. 'We aren't exactly well matched, are we?' She felt a burning need to hurt him. 'On the contrary.' He was by her side in an instant, his face harsh. 'We are very well matched.' He bent to kiss her again, and this time it was savage and hard, and she was shaking with a mixture of fear and excitement when at last he raised his head, his eyes black and proud. 'We will make it a Christmas wedding.' 'Christmas?' She was annoyed to hear the tremor in her voice as fiery colour seared her cheeks. 'But that's only a few weeks away.'

'I'm not made of stone, more's the pity.' He spun round and strode off towards the little stile, but not before she had caught sight of the frustration and longing that had darkened his face into a tortured mask.

When Marshall left Portugal, four days later, she left with him. He had kept her very much at arm's length since that day when she had agreed to marry him, and although it caused her more than a few heart pangs a part of her was relieved. She was feeling more and more that she was caught on a giant roller-coaster and hurtling along entirely out of control. If only she could be as cool and blase as him, she thought miserably more than once as his dark eyes seemed to look straight through her. The words she had flung at him that day in the valley were true. She didn't understand him and she wanted to, so much. He, on the other hand, seemed to be made of stone and was just as cold. Still, she had known what he was like. As she lay, twisting and turning in her bed in the hotel room, that thought didn't help much. His heart had been buried with his wife and she was beginning to doubt if Laura's spectre would ever let him go. Pires drove them to the airport, overflowing with gratitude to Marshall as well as being inordinately proud of the two new arrivals to his family who had been born late the previous night. 'Two boys,' he informed them with a beaming smile when he arrived to pick them up. 'And big...' His arms encompassed an amount of space that would fit a baby hippopotamus, and Marshall smiled indulgently as he turned his head slightly to wink at Kelsey. It was the first natural gesture he had made in days and her heart turned over. 'You know the name of the first?' Pires continued as his grin reached from ear to ear. 'Is Marshall!' It was obviously a great honour.

'Poor little blighter,' Marshall muttered caustically in an aside to Kelsey as Pires carried their suitcases to the car. 'What a name to be saddled with.' He glanced at her wickedly. 'Marshall? Saddled with?' 'Well, it hasn't done you much harm,' she said quietly as she looked up into his handsome face. 'And your parents must have liked the name.' 'We'll never know about that one way or the other,' he said coolly as he took her arm and led her across the hotel foyer, out into the blindingly bright sun. 'I was left on the steps of an orphanage when I was a few hours old and my mother was never traced. There was a western on in the nurse's room at the time and the hero was a marshal. Hence the name—pity she couldn't spell it right!' She stared at his expressionless face, too shocked to make the light reply that would have been tactful. What a start in life! What had that done to him? She suddenly had the mad impulse to reach up and draw his dark head down to her, to whisper words of love and tenderness to the man in comfort of the child that had gone. 'Were you adopted?' She kept her voice bland, sensing that any show of emotion would embarrass him. 'No.' He gave a sharp bark of a laugh. 'I was quite a handful when I was young.' He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes as they reached the car. 'A portent of the man?' 'You took the words right out of my mouth,' she agreed lightly, preventing the compassion from showing in her face, and was rewarded by the quick grin he afforded her as he helped her into the car. It was raining and bitingly cold when they stepped off the plane at Heathrow Airport, and as Marshall's chauffeur-driven Mercedes nosed its way regally through the heavy evening traffic she reflected

for the hundredth time since being whisked into his world how the power of money smoothed one's path. 'Would you like to spend a couple of days at my house while we stock up your cupboards and so on?' Marshall asked suddenly as they drew up outside her block of flats. London seemed dreadfully grimy and greasy in the dull grey light with the rain pouring down after the colour and sun they had left behind. 'No!' Her answer was too quick and too vehement, and she bit her lip as that remote coldness settled over his face like a mask. 'No, thank you,' she added more politely. 'There's so much to do and I ought to get started.' But it was too late. The transient closeness they had shared for a few hours after his revelation about his childhood had gone, and after carrying her luggage up to her flat he left immediately as though her company was repugnant to him. She phoned her mother later that night to let her know her only daughter was getting married in five weeks' time, expecting, and receiving, a host of protests that she countermanded on Marshall's previous instructions. 'Marshall phoned the church from Portugal and they've agreed to do it,' she said calmly without mentioning the enormous donation Marshall had suggested to the church-roof fund. 'It's not a busy time of the year.' 'But your dress, and the bridesmaids, and me!' her mother wailed miserably. 'And the invitations. What are we going to do about the invitations?' 'Marshall knows a boutique that will take care of the dresses and we're to charge it all to him,' she said firmly. 'They'll sort out the flowers and all that side of things too. The invitations can be sent out this week and I don't suppose anyone is doing anything they

can't put off. The reception will be held at Marshall's home with an evening reception for friends and relatives who are perhaps committed in the day. OK?' 'Well, you certainly seem to have it all under control,' Ruth replied grudgingly, and Kelsey gave a wry grimace she was glad her mother couldn't see. Under control? Nothing was under control, least of all her. After promising to drive down and see her mother the next day, she decided to run a warm bath and lie and soak. Her stomach was telling her it was time to eat but there were only tins in the cupboard and some packet soups, and she didn't have the heart to try and concoct a meal out of such meagre fare. She could wait until tomorrow. An early night wouldn't do her any harm at all, she had been sleeping so badly. She had just stepped out of the bath, wrapping her thick bathrobe round her while she towelled her hair dry, when the intercom at the side of the front door buzzed stridently. Oh, no. She groaned inwardly. She felt too mentally bruised to talk to anyone tonight. And who knew she was home anyway? Perhaps they'd go away. She waited for a moment and then it buzzed again. 'Yes?' 'I hate these things.' Marshall's low growl sounded over the distance separating them. 'I've brought you a few essentials until you can get out tomorrow.' 'Oh, thank you.' She was momentarily lost for words. 'Come on up.' There was no time to get dressed so she merely pulled the robe tighter, knotting the belt firmly, and pushed her feet into white fluffy mules, giving her damp hair a quick brush as his impatient knock sounded at the door. 'Hang on.'

'What a ridiculous expression that is,' he said lazily as she opened the door, his piercing eyes sweeping over her freshly scrubbed appearance and long bare legs. 'You're going to be nice to wake up to in the mornings,' he threw over his shoulder as he sauntered into the minute kitchen area and proceeded to pack away the box of groceries he had been holding. She felt her cheeks burn but decided it was safer not to continue with that line of conversation. She was feeling at a distinct disadvantage and was painfully aware of her nakedness under the robe. 'I'm going out to get some food. What do you prefer? Chinese, Indian...?' 'There's no need really.' She looked at him under her eyelashes and for a moment felt giddy with the delight of having him close, even as it disturbed her. He was so altogether gorgeous. She banished the thought quickly. 'Just tell me, Kelsey,' he said slowly, a note of weariness in his voice. 'I'm starving if you aren't.' 'Chinese, please.' 'Right. I've put a bottle of wine in the fridge so get some glasses ready.' She stood in the middle of the small room with a slightly bemused expression on her face, and as he was passing her towards the front door he paused, lifting her chin with one hand and looking down into her dark amber eyes with a small smile touching his mouth. 'A case of the mountain coming to Mahomet?' He took her lips in a hard, sensual kiss even as he spoke and she couldn't stop herself from swaying against him, an immediate response making her body tingle. 'Food.' He put her from him firmly. 'Yes?'

'Thank you.' As he was shutting the door she called his name. 'Marshall?' 'Yes?' He turned to face her, his face watchful. 'Everything is happening so fast.' She wanted him to talk to her, reassure her. 'Fast?' His eyes held that strange look again and his face was curiously cold as he replied. 'You don't know how patient I've been, Kelsey.' He was gone before she could ask him what he meant and as she uncorked the wine and lit the gas fire, pulling two easy chairs and the small coffee-table close, she mused over his strange reply. Probably in the world in which he moved relationships flared and died so much quicker, she thought slowly. He probably wasn't used to having to wait one night for a woman, let alone weeks. That must have been what he meant. They ate sitting in front of the fire with the rain beating a tattoo on the window outside, and all the time she was vitally aware of his big body filling her small chair and his long, muscled legs stretched out in lazy relaxation. Her brain registered every movement he made and although the food filled an empty place in her stomach she really couldn't remember what she had eaten afterwards. 'Marshall?' She looked at him as she prepared coffee in the tiny kitchen. 'Tell me about yourself. I know so little about you.' His eyes shot to meet hers, narrowing slightly as they met her open gaze, and then he sighed softly, a touch of bitterness twisting his mouth as he began to speak. As she listened to him relating his early life and the growth of his business she knew there was much more he wasn't saying. He was talking clinically, quite detached, choosing his words carefully and keeping his thoughts hidden from her. When

he had finished speaking and they sat sipping coffee she was no nearer to understanding him than before he had begun to talk. He hadn't mentioned Laura or any of the women in his life, and she didn't have the courage to ask him about them yet. She knew it would hurt too much. 'I'd better be going.' He finished the last of his coffee and stood up abruptly, a tenseness about him that she felt reflected in her own body. 'I'll ring you tomorrow.' 'Yes, all right.' As he shrugged himself into his heavy thick overcoat she looked up at him, unaware that her expression was betraying her confusion and her eyes were wistful. 'Don't look so worried.' His voice was thick as he looked down at her. 'I'm not such an ogre, you know.' 'I don't think you're an ogre.' 'Darn it, Kelsey, don't look at me like that.' He took her in his arms and suddenly his lips were rifling her mouth with an urgency that was almost animal-like in its intensity. He was hurting her and she tried to draw away, but he seemed unaware of her distress, holding her against him with such savagery that she could hardly breathe. For a moment she froze under his passion and then something in her leapt to meet his need and she was kissing him back, arching her body into his and pressing against him with a wantonness that inflamed him still further. 'I have to go.' She hadn't been aware that the robe had fallen open but as he thrust her from him his dark eyes burnt down her body and she hastily gathered the material round her, tying the belt with hands that shook. 'You know I have to go, don't you?'

'Do -you?'. 'Don't make this any harder, Kelsey,' he said tautly as he swept the black hair off his forehead with one violent movement. 'We're going to do this right. You've already got enough against me to fill a book and I'm not adding one more reason to hate me to my sins.' 'Marshall...' He ignored her pleading cry and had covered the room in two steps, opening the door and banging it shut with a primitive anger that betrayed his inner turmoil far more effectively than words could ever have done. This was hopeless. She sank down on to a chair as she covered her white face with her hands, too shaken to cry. There had been such a mixture of emotions on his dark face, but stark bitterness had swamped them all. It almost seemed as though he hated her, and maybe he did? She was taking Laura's place after all. Whatever the reasons he was marrying her—for a hostess, a bed- mate—she was still taking the place of the woman he had once loved, and still did. Why was he doing it? Why was he forcing this torment on them both? It was an expensive price to pay for the little he was going to receive. There was nothing about any of this that made any sense, and it was getting steadily worse, not better. She took a number of deep, calming breaths as her heart began to pound. This was ridiculous. She was tired and overwrought and she wouldn't think about anything more tonight beyond the fact that she loved him. Life with him might not be a bowl of cherries but the prospect of a life without him was sheer unadulterated hell. There was no going back. She was alive and Laura was dead. He couldn't love a ghost forever, could he? She shut her ears to the little voice in her head telling her that she could never compete with a perfect memory; that if beautiful,

sophisticated, clever women like Jade and Anna couldn't hold him she had no chance. He was marrying her, Kelsey Hope, and for now that would have to be enough.

CHAPTER NINE THE weeks leading up to the wedding date flew by in a confused blur of frantic arrangements, dress fittings and constant minor panics that left no room for thinking about anything else. Marshall overruled any problems with ruthless efficiency, spending an inordinate amount on the most cursory of items in order for the deadline to be met, and refusing to accept a negative answer from anyone on anything. Kelsey found herself functioning as though in a crazy dream, and that unreal state continued until the night before the wedding. She had just climbed into bed, too exhausted to feel the nerves that had been grinding at her for days, when the phone rang shrilly by her side. 'Yes?' Her voice was weary as she spoke into the receiver and for a moment there was quiet, and then Jade's unmistakable drawl sounded down the line. 'Is that Kelsey Hope?' 'Yes?' Kelsey's stomach lurched tightly at the sound of the other woman's low, husky voice. The image of the beautiful cat-like face swam vividly into her mind. 'This is Jade Surridge. Is Marshall with you?' 'No.' She felt a chill feather down her spine. 'Why?' 'Good. It's you I want to speak to,' Jade answered arrogantly, ignoring the question mark in Kelsey's voice. 'We've just got back from America and there's some sort of fantastic rumour that you and Marshall are getting married tomorrow. True or false?' The last three words were splinter-sharp as the cool control faltered for a second.

'I'm marrying Marshall tomorrow, yes,' Kelsey said carefully. This clearly wasn't a congratulatory call. 'Well, well, well...' Jade's voice was mockingly cruel. 'Aren't you the sly one? I suppose you think you've been very clever?' 'I beg your pardon?' The swarm of butterflies in Kelsey's stomach vanished as pure anger invaded their air space. 'You heard me!' Jade spat viciously, all pretence at coolness vanishing. 'You come along with your touch- me-not eyes and helpless appeal, and bingo, he's hooked. How long do you think that little number is going to last, then?' 'I've no idea what you're talking about and—' 'Don't give me that!' The other woman's voice was loaded with venom she was determined to spit. 'I knew what your little game was the minute I saw you. The only thing that amazes me is that Marshall fell for it. Men can be such fools.' Her voice was ugly. 'But let me tell you one thing, my dear, sweet little angel. He'll get tired of you in time; the pure and innocent routine will only last until the honeymoon and then you'll be a novelty no longer. And I'll be here waiting for him. Any time, any place. I won't let him go. Understand me?' 'You're—' 'I know exactly what I am and don't try to put any of your pathetic labels on me.' Jade's voice was poisonous with hate and outrage. 'I'll outlast you, baby, you just see if I don't. Maybe I couldn't get him to the altar but that doesn't mean much. Every time he's late, every time he's not around, just think of me and wonder. That's my wedding present to you.'

The malevolent voice softened to a whisper that was more deadly than the harshness that had gone before. 'You're marrying trouble with a capital T and you just haven't got the equipment to deal with it. I suppose you think he loves you?' There was a sound that could in no way be described as a laugh. 'Think again. He's incapable of loving anyone. The only hope you've got of keeping him tied to your apron strings is your performance in bed, and in that realm you just aren't in my league.' Kelsey stared at the phone in her hand in disbelief. This couldn't be happening. She was too stunned by the other girl's malice to form a coherent reply. 'Are you still there?' As the spiteful voice bit again she slammed down the phone so hard that it leapt on to the floor. She should have done that minutes ago. Jade had to be deranged; no normal sane person could act like this. She clasped her hands round her knees as a deep, shuddering sob tore at her throat, trying to force her racing mind to think rationally, but the other girl's toxin had already got into her veins. How could she marry him feeling like this? There wasn't just Laura to contend with but a bevy of other women with whom she could never compete. And Jade \yould be waiting. At the first row, at the slightest sign of any discord, the voluptuous redhead would make her move. She recalled the naked hunger in those blue eyes and felt physically sick. She couldn't go through with it. She swayed backwards and forwards in an agony of indecision as the warmth of the covers relaxed her cold limbs and the shock and horror began to recede a little. But how couldn't she? She couldn't make him look such a fool in front of everyone, and he hadn't done anything, after all. The situation was really no different now than before Jade's phone call. But it was, and she couldn't fool herself any more. This marriage

meant heartbreak and pain, and she didn't know how she was going to be able to stand it, loving him as she did. She groaned softly, a little wounded sound in the darkness. She would have felt better if the redhead had tried to persuade her that Marshall really loved her, Jade, but she had been bitterly honest in that at least. 'He's incapable of loving anyone.' Jade's contaminating words were seared on her mind. It was true. She had to face the fact that she was committing herself to a life without love, and forget these foolish fantasies that she could make him love her. It didn't work like that, not with a man like him. She lay for hours in the dark of the night while her tortured mind flitted here and there seeking escape, and it was only as the first faint grey light of dawn crept into the room that she drifted off into a troubled and fitful doze. The alarm clock woke her after just three hours of sleep and already her head was thudding. She had promised her mother she would drive down early to the family home to get ready but had balked at spending the previous night there as Ruth had asked. She knew her mother too well. It would have been an evening of expected girl talk and shared confidences, and she just couldn't have borne it. Maybe she should have. Perhaps Jade's venom wouldn't have reached her there? But no. The other woman wouldn't have been satisfied until she had had her say. She began to feel a numbness creep over her during the short journey home. It was a bitterly cold day but a bright, weak sun lit up the bare trees either side of the road, outlining their branches against the blue-grey sky. This was her wedding day! It was impossible but it was true. She was going to marry Marshall today. Once she arrived at the house things seemed to happen of their own volition. The service was scheduled for two o'clock, and just after

eleven the two small bridesmaids arrived with their respective mothers and from that point on Kelsey didn't have a moment to think. The two little girls looked delightful in their long dresses of green and cream velvet with small cloaks to match, but as Kelsey entered the drawing-room just after the wedding cars arrived a collective sigh of wonder swept round the small group of relations gathered there. 'You look quite beautiful, my dear,' her uncle, who was giving her away, said fondly as her mother ushered everyone out of the house and into the waiting cars. In a moment the house was silent for the first time that morning and Kelsey sank down on to the sofa, oblivious of her dress as she looked vacantly at her uncle's face. 'Thank you, Uncle George.' Her voice was cold and blank, and that was exactly how she felt inside. In the last hour, as she had slipped on the exquisite dress of rich cream velvet encrusted with hundreds of tiny hand- sown pearls in a flowing pattern all across the wide hooped skirt and tightly flitting bodice, her emotions had frozen solid. A full-length cloak with a wide dipped hood in the same material and edged with green silk to match the bridesmaids' dresses completed the outfit, and instead of flowers she carried a large velvet muff that had thin green ribbons trailing from its sides. The hairdresser had arranged her hair in a soft chignon with hundreds of tiny pearls threaded through the silky strands, but the gleaming ethereal reflection in the full- length mirror in her old bedroom had merely added to the sense of unreality that had her in its grip. She looked at the stunningly beautiful girl before her quite dispassionately as though it were someone else. She wasn't real, none of this was real. She would wake up soon.

The dreamlike illusion lasted until she began to walk up the aisle, seeing no one but the tall, dark figure standing immobile and still at the front of the small, packed church, but then as Marshall turned the world splintered around her. This was really happening. As his dark, fierce eyes swept over her in intimate warmth she almost lost her step and only her uncle's supportive arm kept her from stumbling. There was a look on his face she had never seen before, a mixture of deep humbleness, hot pride and savage, unbridled desire that was masked in an instant, but not before she had felt its sensual power reach out and possess her. Then she was standing beside him and heard his deep, rich voice promising to love her until death. This was a mockery! A cruel, insane mockery, and they would be punished for it! Her frantic mind leapt from one wild thought to another, but her soft voice was cool and bland as she repeated the minister's carefully spoken words. And then it was over. She was his wife in the sight of God and man, and as he bent to kiss her it was as though he could read the panic and fear that had turned her ice-cold, and his lips merely brushed hers lightly. 'Hello, Mrs Henderson.' She looked up but it was Jade's face that swum before her for an instant, the slanted eyes mocking and the red lips pouting and moist. 'What is it?' He held her to him as she swayed, and she blinked her eyes dazedly. She must have something to eat, she'd feel better when she'd eaten, but how could she rid herself of the conviction that she had just made the worst mistake of her life? Champagne flowed freely during the buffet-style meal which had been prepared in Marshall's huge dining- room for the forty immediate wedding guests. At the evening party later the numbers were expected to swell to over a hundred. 'We'll only stay around

for an hour or so,' Marshall said quietly in a lull in the conversation. 'I've booked a room somewhere for tonight.' 'Have you?' For the life of her she couldn't stop the apprehension showing on her face. How could she have agreed to give herself to someone who didn't love her? She had never been so frightened in her life. His face stiffened at her expression and he nodded slowly. 'I thought you'd like to get away from the crowd. Unwind and relax a little.' 'Yes, of course.' The wooden doll Amalia had given her would have shown more anticipation, and his mouth narrowed into a thin line as he turned to speak to one of the guests. She had made him angry again, she thought wretchedly. It didn't bode well for the night ahead. By eight o'clock when all the evening guests had arrived her face was aching with the effort of smiling, and she was glad to escape to the quiet of Marshall's bedroom to change out of her wedding finery into the new white- wool dress and matching coat which were hung over a chair. This was her bedroom too now. The thought churned her stomach and made her mouth dry; It would have all been so different if he had loved her. She had refused Ruth's offer to help to change but now, as she struggled with the tiny pearl buttons at the back of the dress, she decided she would have to call her after all. 'Can I be of assistance?' The deep male voice caused her to swing round with a gasp of shock to see Marshall, immaculate in the dark pin-striped suit and pale blue silk shirt he had worn for the service, leaning lazily against the open doorway looking completely relaxed and very sure of himself.

'No...' Her voice trailed away as she glimpsed a flash of mocking amusement in his indolent gaze. He was her husband. He had a perfect right to be here. 'I think if I don't help we'll be here till morning, and although you look utterly ravishing in that dress I did have other plans for tonight.' A smile was beyond her as she turned round again, and as he moved across beside her she thought she heard him sigh softly. His long fingers were surprisingly dextrous as he applied himself to the intricate fastenings, and within seconds he had negotiated the small buttonholes, sliding the dress gently from her shoulders. As her hands went up immediately to hold the material against her breasts he laughed quietly, his breath warm on her bare back. As he turned her round to face him she couldn't stop a small shiver from snaking down her spine. He looked so very big and powerful and masculine, and he was almost a stranger. She didn't know how she felt any more. 'All done.' He indicated the dress lazily with a casual flick of his hand and the next moment he was walking across the room and out through the doorway, shutting the door behind him with a firm click, the faint aroma of his aftershave hanging like a shadow on the cool air. 'He didn't even kiss me.' The whisper was lost in the vastness of the big room and she let the dress fall into a billowing, untidy heap at her feet, unsure for a moment whether she was relieved or slightly piqued at his apparent lack of ardour. She had felt his piercing eyes on her all day, even when her head was turned, and every time she had met his dark glance she had felt that churning mixture of fear and excitement that had robbed her of her appetite and brought a hectic pink flush to her cheeks.

They left Marshall's brightly lit house just after nine in a shower of confetti and laughing good wishes from the assembled throng. Her mother had given her one tight tearful hug and then thrust her into Marshall's arms as if in repudiation, and for a moment Kelsey had longed to cling to the familiar figure instead of facing the night ahead with the stranger by her side. They drew into the tiny gravelled car park of a small country inn after a short car ride that had been conducted in total silence. Marshall had seemed distant and sombre now they were alone, and she was quite incapable of making conversation. 'Would you like the meal in our room or in the dining-room?' They had just entered the low beamed doorway into the crowded bar and she suddenly couldn't face more people and more noise. 'Our room, please. If that's all right?' 'Of course.' He put a casual arm round her shoulders as he gestured for the landlady who immediately moved to their side. 'There you are, Mr Henderson,' the small plump woman said brightly, her round button-like eyes twinkling a welcome. 'Your meal is all ready sir. And this must be your lovely wife.' 'We would like to eat in our room, if that is convenient?-' Marshall asked quietly, and the landlady nodded quickly. 'Of course. Come this way, please.' They followed her into a small hall that smelt faintly of beeswax and up some narrow, winding stairs to the first floor of the inn. As the small woman opened the heavy old door and ushered them through Kelsey was surprised to see they had entered a small suite of rooms, which included a tiny sitting-room with a roaring log fire crackling in the old leaded fireplace and what looked like a bedroom and en-suite beyond through an arched opening in the wall.

'This is lovely.' Kelsey turned to Marshall, impulsively touching his arm with her hand, and he smiled slowly as he looked down at her flushed face. 'I thought you'd like it. The top floor belongs to Mrs Jones and her husband but they occasionally let this floor to people they know, and we're old friends, aren't we, Mrs Jones?' 'Indeed we are, sir.' The smile on the little woman's round face was obviously a permanent fixture, and in spite of her nervousness Kelsey couldn't help smiling back. While Marshall fetched their cases from the car Kelsey wandered into the bedroom, opening the door that led into the bathroom and giving the pink interior a cursory glance, before her gaze fixed itself back into the centre of the bedroom on the large four-poster bed that took up most of the space. A huge lace bedspread covered the crisp linen' sheets and a large bowl of fresh flowers perfumed the warm air, giving the room a festive feel that didn't match the tightness invading her whole body. In a few hours, less even, she would be his Wife in the full sense of the word, and she suddenly knew she was going to disappoint him badly. Jade had been right; she knew none of the secret techniques a man of the world like him was used to. If only he loved her. Love covered a multitude of imperfections. ' As she heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs she hurried back into the sitting-room and was crouched in front of the red flames warming her hands when he entered, unaware of the lovely picture she made in the pure white dress with her hair, brushed free of the constriction of the day, falling in gleaming red-gold waves over her shoulders. She heard him pause for a moment as he entered the room but didn't look up, concentrating her eyes into the glowing red embers of the fire, and then he moved into the bedroom with the cases at the same moment as Mrs Jones appeared with their meal.

They ate with the small table pulled in front of the fire, but although the meal looked delicious Kelsey found she was only able to force down a few mouthfuls of food, and gratefully accepted a large glass of champagne to ease the dryness attacking her throat. She just wished the next few hours were over. How could she compete against Laura and the rest? This was stupid, crazy, she must have been mad to think she could ever be enough for him. 'Relax, Kelsey.' She glanced up quickly from her contemplation of the sparkling liquid in her glass to find his dark eyes tight on her pale face. 'I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to. It's enough you are here for now.' 'What?' She stared at him, her eyes widening as he took her hand and moved her to the small settee to one side of the fire where he drew her down by his side. 'I didn't think you'd go through with it,' he said simply as his eyes caressed her face. 'You've been like a cat on a hot tin roof for "days. I thought you'd pull out.' 'I wouldn't let you down like that,' she said indignantly as she stared up into his face, and a wry smile touched the corner of his firm mouth. 'No. I should have known, shouldn't I? You're quite right.' He looked down into her small heart-shaped face, which was lifted up to his, and let a lock of her silky hair run through his fingers slowly. 'It's just that I wanted you so badly I was sure something would go wrong. Can you understand that?' 'Yes.' She answered as calmly as her racing pulse allowed. 'I doubt it.' He had removed his jacket while they ate and now he pulled his tie off and loosened several buttons of his shirt as he stretched out his long legs in relaxed comfort. He was the epitome

of cool laziness while she was as tight as a coiled spring, her hands two tight fists in her lap. 'Why did you marry me, Kelsey?' She gave a nervous start as he glanced at her again, stretching out his arm along the back of the settee behind her. 'I thought I told you,' she lied quickly. 'No, you never did,' he said musingly as he traced the outline of her face with his finger. 'Do you like me?' She looked at him silently as her mind registered the fact that this must be one of the strangest conversations a couple had ever had on their wedding night, and nodded slowly. 'But I frighten you.' This was a statement and she swallowed convulsively as she tried to find the right words to deny it without betraying herself. 'You don't frighten me, Marshall.' 'Oh, but I do.' There was an element of bewilderment in his voice. 'And you don't trust me, do you, Kelsey, even after all this time?' 'I do trust you,' she protested faintly, wondering where this conversation was going to end. 'It's just that—' 'Yes?' 'I don't know if you'll want me after...' 'After?' He clearly wasn't following her. 'After we've made love.' There, it was said. 'I don't know what you want me to do, I mean, I haven't...' She was stammering incoherently now as much from the incredulous expression stretching his dark, handsome face as from nerves.

'What on earth have you been thinking?' His gaze was tight on her eyes. 'I don't expect you to behave like a performing seal, for crying out loud.' He ran his hand through his hair in a gesture of irritation, and she realised too late that she had deeply offended him. 'No, I know, it's just that Jade—' She stopped abruptly. In her effort to put things right she had let slip the one thing she had been determined to keep from him. 'Jade?' He fastened on the name like a shot. 'I might have known! What's Jade got to do with all this?' 'Nothing, really.' She saw from his cold face that he wasn't buying that. 'It was just something she said—' 'I want it all, Kelsey.' His voice was grim. 'Our courtship has been a joke and I'pi damned if I'm letting Jade or anyone else make our marriage the same. All the truth. Now.' 'Please...' 'Now!' His face got darker and darker as she related the phone call word for word, and as she came to a stumbling halt he stood up abruptly, moving over to the fireplace to stare down into the flickering depths for a long minute before turning to face her again, his eyes filled with pain. 'And you believed her?' 'No.' She spoke quickly. 'I didn't think you'd ever cheat T>n our marriage, of course not. But I thought—' 'You thought I'd be giving you marks out of ten in the bedroom.' His voice was flat but the dark fury in his face was frightening. 'Damn you, Kelsey, you won't be content until you break me, will you?' His voice was so savage that for a startled second she thought he was going to pounce on her, but instead he strode the couple of steps to

the table and jerked his jacket off the back of the chair, walking swiftly to the door. 'Where are you going?' Her voice was shrill and high with panic but he didn't moderate his steps, pausing for one moment only in the doorway to scorch her with a glance of pure fire. 'What do you think I am?' In contrast to his face his voice was icy cold with a rapier-sharp biting edge that cut into her heart. 'What the hell do you think I am?' His gaze swept over her white face scornfully. 'No, on second thoughts, don't answer that. Don't you think I know that Jade isn't worthy to clean your shoes? Compared to you—' He stopped abruptly, and then swore softly. 'Don't look like that, Kelsey. I've got to think, allow me some time to think.' He had slammed the door shut before she could form the words to beg him to stay. She sat in frozen stunned immobility for the first hour after he had left, but then as the minutes ticked by and the fire began to die it dawned on her that he might not be coming back at all. She ran to the window and peered out of the small leaded panes into the dark car park below. His car was still there! He hadn't left her. She felt dizzy for a moment with relief and then tensed again as she noticed it was beginning to snow gently, soft, fat white flakes falling from a dark, dull sky. 'He'll freeze.' It was becoming a worrying habit, this talking to herself, but he hadn't got a coat as far as she knew. He had only been wearing the suit he had got married in. Maybe he was downstairs? She doubted it, but after a few more minutes made herself walk calmly down the winding stairs and into the small lounge, feeling bitter disappointment when he wasn't there.

'Hello, my dear. Is there anything wrong?' Mrs Jones was clearing up the glasses from the empty tables and turned in surprise at her entrance. Kelsey took a long deep breath. 'I was just looking for...my husband.' The words felt strange on her tongue and she found herself blushing furiously. What on earth must this little countrywoman be thinking? 'He's not back yet, then?' Whatever Mrs Jones thought she kept it from showing in her calm face. 'Not to worry, my pet, I gave him a key when he explained about his bad head. Too much champagne and too much excitement if you ask me.' She smiled conspiratorially. 'These men never know when to stop, do they? Overgrown boys, the lot of them.' Kelsey smiled in answer and turned wearily towards the stairs. She would have to wait. At twelve, when he still hadn't returned, she slowly got ready for bed, slipping under the scented sheets with a feeling of despair turning her thoughts into chaotic turmoil. It had ended before it had begun and it was all her fault. The pain was too intense for the relief of tears to lessen it and her eyes were burningly dry. Why hadn't she" kept quiet? Jade had done just what she had set out to do. Torn them apart. She twisted helplessly under the covers. Why had she let her spoil things? Here she was, perfumed and adorned in the whisper- thin silk nightie she had bought specially for her wedding night with no husband lying beside her. The thought almost brought a laugh of pure hysteria to her lips. Who, among all their relations and friends, would believe that Marshall Henderson, of all people, had left his new bride to cry herself to sleep on her wedding night?

CHAPTER TEN KELSEY didn't know at what time she fell into a sleep of deep exhaustion, but it felt as though she was coming out of a suffocating mist when she heard someone whispering her name persistently, over and over. 'Kelsey?' It was Marshall's voice, and suddenly she was wide awake to find him kneeling by her side of the bed, his face a dim white outline in the darkness. 'Marshall, you're back...' She felt too dazed and confused with the events of the last twenty-four hours to think properly, but instinctively reached out her arms to hold him, finding as she did so he was soaking wet. 'Marshall!' She sat up in bed quickly switching on the small lamp by her side. 'You look awful.' 'Great.' His voice was shaking with cold and his dark face was grey and drawn in the dim light, water dripping slowly off his black hair and running down his neck. 'You need a hot bath.' She looked at him anxiously but he shook his head, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. 'No. I have to talk to you. There are things I should have told you a long time ago, but I thought—' He stopped abruptly. 'I've made some mistakes and maybe it's too late but I have to talk to you. You have to understand.' 'After a bath.' She was too concerned with the state of him, to consider that she was practically naked in the transparent silk as she raced into the bathroom and began to run the bath with steaming-hot water. He stood just where she had left him, his eyes hungry and hopeless as he stared at her across the intervening space. He had come back! Beyond that she couldn't think. 'Marshall, come on, please... You're going to be ill.'

'Kelsey—' 'Please, Marshall.' He bowed his head at the desperation in her voice and walked slowly to join her in the bathroom, stripping off his sodden clothes mechanically, his face pinched with cold. In spite of her concern as the clothing was discarded she became hotly aware of his big, lean, powerful body and her own semi- nakedness. His hair-darkened chest gleamed brown in the bright fluorescent light overhead and although she knew she should leave she remained glued to the spot, unable to move, drinking in the sight of him. His large hands fumbled with the buckle at his waist, his frozen fingers unable to manipulate the fastening, and he turned to her with a small helpless gesture. 'Could you...?' 'Yes, of course.' She moved forward with a confidence she was far from feeling but then paused at his side, quite unable to bring herself to perform such an intimate task. 'Marshall?' She raised her eyes to his as a tide of embarrassment coloured her cheeks a fiery red, and his hands were gentle as they guided hers to his waist, helping her in her task with slow persuasion. As the last vestige of his clothing fell to the floor his body told her, far more adequately than words, of his need of her, and now it was he who turned quickly away, climbing into the bath and lying back in the steaming water with his eyes shut and a dull flush under his high cheekbones. She sat on the floor by his side, wanting to cry, wanting to talk, but doing neither. After a few minutes the greyness in his face was replaced by his normal colour as his body began to thaw and the compulsive tremors that had been shaking his big frame died away. 'I'm sorry, Kelsey, this is one hell of a wedding night.' The deep voice brought her head swinging up to meet his eyes and she saw his face was rent with an emotion she couldn't name.

'It's all right.' It was pathetic but the best she could do. 'No, it damn well isn't!' He moderated his voice as he saw her wince. 'I'd planned to be so understanding, take it nice and easy, and instead—' He gave that harsh bark of a laugh that had no humour in its depths. 'At Jade's name...' 'It was my fault.' She didn't know what to say any more. 'None of this is your fault.' He sat up abruptly and reached for the towel, standing up and stepping out of the bath as she raised herself from the carpet. 'Marshall...' She had a desperate need born of her love for him to make all this better, to take away that haunted, sad look that was deepening the lines at the sides of his mouth into craggy clefts. 'Marshall, please don't shut me out.' 'Shut you out?' He stared at her in amazement. 'I don't want to shut you out—if only you knew...' 'Then kiss me.' The fright and bewilderment of the preceding hours had faded into an urgent need to be close to him, to make some impression, any impression, on that cold mind. She took a step nearer to him and put her arms round his neck. 'Please.' She couldn't take any more. 'Kelsey.' His voice was a groan of hunger and as she pressed closer to him the tremor that swept through his body was reflected in hers. 'I need to talk to you, I can't think straight when you're—' 'I don't want you to think.' As he lifted his arms to pull her hands from his neck the towel slipped to the floor, revealing his desire. 'I want you to want me.'

'Want you?' With a despairing shudder he pulled her fiercely against his hard flesh, his mouth taking hers in a hot, savage kiss that brought something deep and primitive in her to glorious life. 'You'll never know how much, my darling...' She clung to him in helpless abandon as his warm, firm lips probed hers in sensual exploration, and as his shaking hands peeled the thin silk from her soft curves she buried her face in the hollow of his throat with an inarticulate cry. 'Marshall...please...' He was almost devouring her as his iron self-control, held rigidly in place for so long, melted away before the completeness of her submission. Kelsey was beyond thought or reason; for her everything but this man who was now her husband was fading. All that mattered was Marshall. He gathered her trembling body into his arms and carried her over to the bed, his lips drinking greedily from hers, and as he laid her down on the soft covers he let his eyes feast on her honey-coloured nakedness spread out before him. 'So beautiful, so perfect...' Just for a moment she wanted to cover herself from his dark, fiery gaze but then his hands and lips began to caress and kiss the rounded curves and hollows, and from that moment nothing existed but the ripples of sensation taking her on and on. She needed him, more than life. He was patient with her, how patient she didn't fully realise until long afterwards when he revealed the full expertise of his lovemaking, but that night his touch was both urgent and tender, leading her to a shared ecstasy more devastating than she had ever imagined. As his weight moved over her, pinning her beneath him, the full power of his male body was hard against her soft flesh, and with an instinctiveness that was part of her womanhood she clung to him, curving her hands tightly round his broad shoulders and then down

to his strong back as she curved beneath him. A flicker of fear at the unknown caught her breath but then it was banished as he let his lips travel over her face in panting, burning kisses. She was aware of whimpering his name in the one sharp, blank moment of pain, and then the escalating pleasure became so intense as to be unbearable. There was no escape from his utter savage domination, and she didn't want any. In this moment he was hers, totally hers, his mind and body concentrated on her alone. As she felt the world explode into a thousand shattering pin-points of light she heard him call her name in glorious triumph, the note in his dark voice reflecting the mad pounding of her heart, and then with the release came a quietness, a completeness. 'Did I hurt you too much, my love?' His voice was soft against the damp hair curling in tiny tendrils round her face, and as he rolled away he gathered her tenderly into his side where she lay drowsily content against him, one arm stretched over his hair-roughened chest. For the first time in months she felt at peace. In this giving of herself to him, completely and without reserve, she had found joy instead of humiliation, satisfaction instead of nagging unease. 'I had planned to initiate you slowly, gently...' His voice was rueful. 'But when I held you in my arms I felt like a young lad of sixteen on his first date. I wanted it all.' 'I love you.' She hadn't meant to say the words but as they passed her lips she felt a sense of relief. It didn't matter any more that he knew how she felt. Somehow their lovemaking and the unexpected tenderness he had shown her had wiped all the humiliation of their uneven relationship from her mind. This was Marshall and she loved

him beyond life. She had all the time in the world to make him love her in the same way. 'Kelsey?' He had stiffened at her side as she spoke, and just for a moment she was frightened that his face would be wearing that withdrawn, cold expression she knew so well, but as she gazed up at him she saw the handsome features were stricken as his brown eyes searched her face in the dim light. 'It's all right.' She spoke hastily before he became that remote stranger again. 'I know you can't feel the same. I understand. It's Laura, isn't it? But—' 'Laura?' Too late she remembered his anger when she had spoken that name before, but this time his voice was full of softness. 'What do you mean, you love me? You don't have to say that.' 'But I do love you.' She had no pride left now as she stared at him through the darkness. 'I think I always have, but it won't alter anything. I won't make any demands, you won't—' Her words were cut off as he suddenly pulled her to him in a fierce embrace that almost stopped her breathing, and it was a long moment before he loosened his hold and pushed her slightly away, looking down into her face before drawing her more closely into his body with her head on his chest. 'When I left here tonight I walked for hours out there.' He talked slowly and with evident pain. 'I saw for the first time just what a hopeless mess I'd made of things.' She moved to speak but he stopped her, his voice urgent. 'Listen to me, Kelsey, please. 'It seemed to me as I tramped the streets that there was nothing you thought me incapable of, no depths to which you considered I would

not sink. But then I reasoned, what do you really know about me? What have I told you? Nothing, nothing but banalities.' 'Marshall—' 'No, please. I have to tell you, you need to know.' She lay with her body fitted into his and her head above his heartbeat, but the dark misery in his voice told her his face was rent with pain. 'I didn't expect you to love me, I knew I would have to work for that, but I didn't care how long it took. When you agreed to many me I was frightened of pushing you for a reason, frightened you would back off. I thought if I played it cool time was on my side. But then tonight, when you imagined I saw you as just another—' He stopped and took a deep breath. 'Years ago, Kelsey, you kept me sane at a time when I thought I was losing my mind, and you weren't even aware of it. Just by being you, an untidy fourteen-year- old tomboy who was fiercely honest and hopelessly idealistic. At that time you and your family were the one bright unspoilt thing in a world gone mad.' She lay quite still in his arms, hardly daring to breathe. This was the first time he had talked to her, really talked to her. 'I was terrified you would change as you became older, become like all the rest, but that honesty and sweetness merely matured with the years. I didn't know I loved you then, not until much later, but when David died you were always there at the back of my mind like a dull, sweet ache that wouldn't go away. That's why I kept in contact with your mother. I didn't acknowledge it at the time but I couldn't cut the cords.' There was total silence for a few moments except for the slow, rhythmic ticking of the clock through the arched doorway. 'I don't understand.' Her voice was soft with bewilderment. 'Laura— ?' '

'I was twenty-one when I met Laura,' he interrupted her almost coldly, his voice low and strained. 'She bowled me off my feet. We were married within eight weeks.' Kelsey felt her stomach turn over but forced herself to lie still and passive in his arms. He mustn't stop talking, she had to hear it all. 'I was working like a dog at the time, trying to establish my own business. It meant long hours and short weekends but she said she understood. She came from a wealthy background and had lots of friends to play around with; she insisted she wasn't lonely and she seemed happy enough.' His voice hardened. 'She always gave me one hell of a welcome anyway. When she told me she was pregnant I was so excited.' She felt him shake his head slightly. 'I was so transparently gullible.' He drew in a harsh breath before continuing. 'Four months later I came back to the flat one day and she was gone. No note, no nothing. All her things had gone, cleaned out, and her parents had no idea where she was. I contacted some of her old friends 'and they were delighted to put me in the picture. It appeared I was the prize patsy. She'd been engaged to another man, a playboy type, just before she met me, but they'd had a tiff and he had gone off with someone else. No wonder her parents welcomed me with open arms.' He laughed bitterly. 'To teach him a lesson she married me. Simple as that.' He moved restlessly, his voice thick. 'Apparently she had never really stopped seeing him. I tracked them down to a resort in Greece and confronted them both. She admitted she wasn't sure if the child she was carrying was mine or his. He was quite happy to accept that. I wished them both dead and left. By ten that same night I had my wish. The police contacted me at my hotel to tell me the taxi my wife and "friend" had been travelling in had left the road and plunged down a cliff. They were killed instantly.'

Kelsey jerked in horror and raised herself to look into his agonised face. What she saw there appalled her. 'Do you know what hurt the most? What nearly drove me insane?' He looked into her soft amber eyes desperately. 'I hadn't really known her. I had lived with her for months and yet she wasn't who I thought she was. I couldn't believe one human being could do that to another. I didn't know how to feel any more.' He touched her face with his hand. 'Crazy, eh?' 'No, not crazy,' she said brokenly. 'I really lost my faith in mankind for a time after that. I went a little mad for a while. The business went downhill and I was falling apart, and then I met your father.' The pain began to ease from his features. 'He. quite literally gave me the motive to get back on my feet again just by being himself. You are so like him. His excellent advice saved the business, but more than that he introduced me to his family and sanity.' His eyes became, soft. 'I met you. It was only at that point and without knowing why that I understood Laura hadn't been real. She was a lovely myth, a transient shallow butterfly from a world I determined to grind under my heel. I went on from strength to strength and thought I was doing fine.' His mouth twisted. 'Wealth, success, with all the trappings that came with them. And then I heard of the arrival of Greg in your life through Ruth, and the stark truth hit me. How it hit me! There was nothing without you; you had always been there and I'd just blown it. For the first time I really knew what I wanted in life, and it was too late.' His eyes darkened. 'I went through hell, Kelsey, but after a time I made up my mind all was fair in love and war. I intended to have you and have you I was going to. Whether you wanted it or not. I was going to use every trick in the book and, believe me, I know quite a few.' 'I believe you,' she said drily.

'So I carefully made contact—to find Greg off the scene and a fullgrown Kelsey with a mind of her own and a definite determination to have nothing to do with me. It was a complication I hadn't envisaged.' 'A new experience for you?' she asked sweetly, and he tapped her bottom under the covers with the flat of his hand. 'Enough, wench. I decided the softly softly approach was the best, but it wasn't easy. You didn't give an inch, did you? And they say men can be cruel!' 'I thought I was just another flirtation. That you wanted—' 'I know exactly what you thought I wanted and you weren't far wrong,' he said drily. 'The thing is I also wanted a band on the third finger of your left hand to keep the other wolves away, but that seemed as likely as—' He paused to think of an appropriate phrase. 'You loving me.' There was a throb of pain in her voice as she remembered her anguish, and he gathered her up into his arms hungrily. 'That was inevitable from the first moment I saw you,' he said huskily. 'You're everything I want, my darling; those other women—' He dismissed them with a wave of his hand. 'They meant nothing. All the time I was searching, searching and without knowing why. You were so young, so far from me. I didn't understand until it was nearly too late.' 'I love you so much, Marshall,' she whispered against his face and his eyes lit up with passionate warmth as he searched her glowing features gently. 'You kept me waiting long enough,' he growled gruffly. 'You're going to have to pay for that.'

'I'm all yours,' she said with a teasing gleam of laughter in her eyes, but as he went to cover her body with his own she strained away slightly, touching his face gently with a loving hand. 'It's forever, Marshall. All the loving, all the sharing, it's all ours.' 'I know.' His voice was husky. 'And we've got all the time in the world.' And as his lips captured hers in sweet possession she knew, with a thrill that was deep and strong, that he was hers. Completely, irrevocably, finally hers.