Нина Харрингтон – In Bed with Her Ex: Miss Prim and the Billionaire / Mardie and the City Surgeon / The Boy is Back in Town (страница 14)
‘Looking back is scary,’ she whispered. ‘It fills you with hate and makes you want to do things that you know you shouldn’t, so then the person you hate is yourself.’
She didn’t look at him as she said it. She didn’t dare. And his reply was so soft that another person might have missed it. But she was alive to everything about him, and she heard the quiet words with their ominous warning.
‘That’s very true.’
She glanced at him just in time to meet his eyes, but not in time to read their expression before he looked away. She waited, hoping that he would turn back to her and they might even find a way to talk. But his eyes were fixed on the distance and the silence between them was as deafening as a roar.
All around them the lights were sparkling, arranged in arches by the walls, with dainty lamps near the tables.
The atmosphere on the roof had changed, grown softer, sentimental. This was a place for romantic trysts, with lovers’ eyes meeting over the rims of wine glasses. Here there should be smiles of heartfelt understanding, unspoken promises of love. It was a world apart and anyone who did not belong in that world had no right to be here.
Nearby was a couple sitting close together. The man was middle-aged and heavy. The girl was about twenty, gorgeous and flaunting it. She might have been the young Cassie.
‘I guess there’s no point in me trying to talk to him tonight,’ said a male voice nearby. ‘Sorry,’ he added hastily, as Marcel and Cassie turned to look at him. ‘It’s just that I’d planned to talk business with that fellow.’
Marcel grinned. ‘No chance now.’
‘We should never have agreed to meet here. Too many good-time girls as a distraction. I gather this place is known for it. Everywhere you look there’s a lush female trying to seduce a man into parting from his money.’ He seemed to become aware of Cassie and hastily added, ‘Forgive me. Not you, of course!’
‘Of course,’ she said.
‘I mean you’re obviously a very … sensible … businesslike woman, and I didn’t mean to insult you.’
She regarded him with ironic humour. ‘You mean it’s quite impossible that I could ever lead a man down dark and dangerous paths? Some women would be more insulted by that than the other.’
‘Look I … put my foot in it. I apologise.’
He retreated in a flurry of embarrassment.
‘Well, you certainly made him sorry,’ Marcel declared.
She managed to laugh. ‘I did, didn’t I? His face!’
The man had gone to join the couple at the other table, talking wildly and making gestures, clearly explaining something to them. He glanced up, saw Cassie looking at him and gave her an embarrassed grin.
‘He’s terrified of me,’ she murmured to Marcel.
‘And you don’t mind?’
‘Why should I mind? I don’t want to lead him down “dark and dangerous paths”. Hey, the girl’s looking at me now. I wonder if she’s taking warning.’
‘That your gaze might turn her to stone?’ Marcel hazarded hilariously.
‘No, that a woman can start out like her and end like me. Not that she’d believe it.’
She had a dizzying sensation of going too far. Surely now Marcel must be remembering the dark and dangerous paths down which they’d travelled together, and reading the truth in her eyes. But the time was not right. If things had been different she could have told him everything now, but that was impossible until he could bring himself to admit that he knew who she was.
And that day might never come.
Suddenly she doubted that she had the strength for this. She wanted to cry aloud and flee him. She even moved to rise from her seat, but his hand detained her.
‘Are you all right? You look troubled.’
His voice was gentle, his eyes warm and concerned. It was as though another man had taken him over, or perhaps lured him back to the past, and it was her undoing.
‘Look, I must go. It’s late and I’m tired—’
‘Of course. I’ll take you home.’
‘No!’ The word was almost violent. ‘No, there’s no need for that. I’ll be all right.’
‘I’ll tell Hotel Reception to send a car to the front for you. Then you’ll be free of me.’
‘It’s not that—’ she began wildly.
‘Yes, it is,’ he said. ‘It’s like that for both of us.’ His voice grew softer, more intense. ‘We both need some time to get our heads together.’ His eyes met hers. ‘Don’t we?’
She nodded dumbly.
He escorted her out of the hotel and to the waiting car, assisted her into a seat at the rear, then stood with the door still open, leaning in slightly, holding onto her hand.
‘It’s all right about going to Paris, isn’t it?’ he asked.
‘Of course.’
‘Then be ready to travel tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow? But you said I could have the day off to sort out—’
‘I’ve changed my mind. There’s no time. You’ll have to do it long-distance when you get there. I’ll collect you at nine tomorrow morning.’ His hand tightened on hers. ‘You will be there, won’t you?’
‘Of course.’
‘You won’t vanish?’
‘No.’
His eyes held hers and for a moment she thought he would refuse to let go of her hand. But then he released her suddenly, slammed the door and stepped back. Her last view of him was standing there, completely still, his eyes fixed on the retreating car like a man clinging on to a vanishing hope.
He watched her until she was out of sight, then took out his phone and dialled a number given to him by his father. It was a private security firm. In a hard voice he gave her address.
‘These are your instructions. You park outside and watch. If she comes out with a suitcase and gets into a taxi you call me. Then follow her. And don’t let her out of your sight for a moment.’ In her time with Jake, Cassie had grown used to his ways of flaunting his wealth and what he fondly believed to be his status. He would book the most expensive seats on planes, then arrive at the last minute with the maximum of fuss.
Marcel, in contrast, reached the airport early, got through the formalities with courtesy and was driven quietly to the private jet that was waiting for him.
‘My father’s,’ he explained.
The plane was pure luxury. It could seat eight people in soft, comfortable seats, and had its own galley from which food and drink was served to the two of them by a steward who existed solely for their comfort.
As they began to move down the runway he said, ‘The weather’s fine so it should be a smooth flight. Nothing to worry about.’
So he remembered that she was afraid of flying, she thought. After one modelling job she’d returned home still shaken and distraught from a bumpy flight. How bright his eyes had been, how full of expectancy for the night of passion to come. And how quickly he’d forgotten all thoughts of his own pleasure to take her trembling body in his arms and soothe her tenderly. There had been no sex that night, and in the morning she had loved him more than ever for his generosity.
‘Have you ever been to Paris?’ he asked now. ‘No, but I’ve always wanted to. I’m looking forward to exploring it.’
‘You won’t have time for that. You’ll live in the hotel, and have a desk in my office. Everything will be provided to help with your work and you’ll be “confined to barracks”, forbidden to leave.’
For a moment she almost thought he meant it, but just in time she saw the gleam of wicked humour in his eyes. ‘Yeah, right!’ she said cynically.
‘You don’t believe me? Wait until you see the locks on the doors.’
‘Nonsense!’
‘That’s no way to talk to your employer.’
‘If you were any other employer I wouldn’t, but we both know that I’m not just here to study the facts of La Couronne. I’m here to absorb the atmosphere, and that means the atmosphere of the city as well.’
‘Very subtle,’ he said appreciatively. ‘So you’ll arrange the job to suit yourself.’
‘It’s what I’m good at,’ she said impishly. ‘Being in control.’
He grinned. She smiled back, happy in this brief moment of warmth and ease between them. But then a scream burst from her as the plane jerked and plunged a few feet.
‘Sorry,’ came the pilot’s voice. ‘Air pocket. It’s going to be a little turbulent.’