Follow a Stranger

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Follow a Stranger Page 18

by Charlotte Lamb


  made herself sit upright, her chin tilted defiantly.

  “Take me back to the Murray apartment,” she ordered.

  She was only wearing a thin shawl over her white voile

  dress, and it kept slipping down. “I’m cold,” she said, her

  voice reproachful.

  He put out his hand and ran it lightly along her thinly

  covered arm. It burnt through the fine material and she

  jerked away.

  “Don’t touch me!”

  He stiffened and a glint came into the grey eyes. “I’m

  tired of this game of yours,” he said thickly. “As you seem

  to expect me to try to seduce you, I might as well be

  hanged for a sheep as for a lamb, as you say in England!”

  He leant over her, holding her back against the seat.

  Vaguely she thought of struggling, of pushing him

  away, but the clamour of her senses drowned the voices

  of common sense. When his mouth lowered to hers, she

  abandoned herself, heart pounding, and allowed her arms

  to creep round his neck and touch the dark hair at the

  back of his head.

  He groaned and pulled her closer, kissing her throat

  and her closed eyes.

  “Kate, my dearest,” he murmured, “you love me, I can

  feel it! You couldn’t kiss me like this if you didn’t love

  me.” His mouth moved back to hers, burning and dry on

  her lips.

  She half sobbed, but responded passionately, unable to

  resist him. When he drew away again she was weak and

  drowsy with pleasure. Eyes huge, she stared up at him as

  he thrust a hand through his hair.

  “Why the devil did you hold me off?” he demanded.

  “Why did you refuse to talk to me the night before I left

  Kianthos? I was almost out of my mind over you.”

  “I can’t have an affair with you, Marc,” she whispered

  through dry lips. “I love you—I admit it. I wish I didn’t.

  But I’m just not the sort of girl who has casual affairs.”

  He stared down at her. “Casual affairs? What the hell

  do you mean? I want to marry you, you featherbrained

  female!”

  She began to tremble violently. “Marry me ... you ... but

  ... she said ...”

  “She?” His voice was sharp. “Who said?”

  “Marie-Louise,” she said miserably. “Oh, Marc, what

  about her? She said ... everyone thought ...”

  “I wouldn’t marry her if she was the last woman in the

  world,” he said forcefully. “She is fun for a party, but

  hardly the sort of girl one marries. She is all surface, like

  a painted doll. In the rain the paint comes off. And with

  Marie-Louise, the glitter comes off when one knows her

  well enough. So what did she say to you, my silly

  darling?”

  “She implied that you only wanted to seduce me,” she

  said softly, half dazed by her joy, “that you would throw

  me away when you were tired of me. I couldn’t bear it. I

  was so miserable.”

  “And that’s why you wouldn’t let me in that night? You

  thought I’d come to drag you into bed with me?” He

  grinned at her. “Was it a struggle, my sweet? Or did you

  righteously lock your door without a second thought?”

  “Don’t laugh,” she pleaded. “I was desperately

  unhappy.”

  He wound his fingers in the silky blonde hair and

  pulled her close to him, kissing her ear. “I felt pretty fed

  up myself. I came to ask you to marry me. When you

  wouldn’t even talk to me I felt like smashing the door

  down. You don’t know how close you came to being pretty

  savagely kissed that night. I lay awake thinking of what I

  would like to do to you. I couldn’t understand your

  sudden changes of mood.”

  “I didn’t want to love you,” she said, sighing.

  “That was obvious. I thought, though, that once I had got

  Peter Hardy out of your life it would be plain sailing. It

  was a big shock to find I was still not home and dry.”

  Kate sat up indignantly. “How conceited! You thought

  that as soon as I was free I’d fall into your arms, I

  suppose?”

  “Something like that,” he grinned unrepentantly. “You

  see, my dear girl, I fell in love with you on our second

  meeting, when you threw home truths at me like

  poisoned arrows. Your eyes fascinated me. They were so

  blue and so cross!”

  “You deserved every word!” she said.

  “So I did,” he agreed lazily, with disgusting com-

  placency. “I knew then that I had to marry you. I had

  been in love before, but never like that—it was like a

  thunderbolt. When you told me you were engaged I felt

  the first qualms. Jealousy was a new experience, and not

  one I enjoyed. I felt a little better after I had met the

  gentleman.” His derisive tone irritated her.

  “Peter is very nice,” she said. “I just didn’t love him.”

  “I’ve no axe to grind about Hardy,” he shrugged. “I

  found him boring, personally,” he grinned. “I enjoyed

  listening to you giving him his marching orders. I knew

  then that I was right—you didn’t love him.”

  Kate pinched the hand which was fondling her neck.

  “Vanity, again—you’re too sure of yourself!”

  Marc looked down at her, his face darkened with a look

  which turned her bones to water. “I wanted you so much

  that I just dared not believe you wouldn’t feel the same,”

  he said thickly, kissing her throat.

  “Oh, Marc,” she murmured joyfully, stroking the black

  hair.

  “My mother gave me hope when I came back from the

  States,” he went on. “She was sure you loved me. I came

  to England after you, but you were away, and your

  mother seemed so vague about who you were with ... I

  wasn’t certain you weren’t seeing Hardy again. I meant to

  come back again soon. Then I saw you with Jean-Paul.”

  “Jean-Paul was using me to make Pallas jealous,” she

  explained.

  Marc grimaced. “Stupid ass! But why did he break off

  his engagement if he still loves her?”

  She explained and he groaned. “You again! I might

  have known! But Pallas adores Jean-Paul, you little fool.

  She has been miserable since we left Kianthos.”

  “I was sure she was reluctant to marry him, though,”

  she explained anxiously.

  “I talked to her about that,” he said. “She said she was

  only unhappy because she thought it was a business

  arrangement—that Jean-Paul did not really love her. He

  had never breathed a word of any affection to her, of

  course. It was all done through me. And Pallas hated the

  idea of an arranged, loveless marriage. But she is

  attracted to him, all right.”

  “Oh, dear, I hope I haven’t harmed them,” said Kate,

  biting her lip.

  “I doubt it,” Marc said. “Jean-Paul must convince her

  he loves her, that’s all. She is still very young. He will

  have plenty of time.” He reached for her and kissed her

  hard. “Never mind them. What about us? When will you
r />   marry me?”

  “I don’t know ...” She wriggled uneasily. “Marc, we

  come from such different worlds. Do you think we could

  make a marriage work?”

  He looked very seriously into her eyes. “It has got to

  work. I need you too much to let you go. Don’t start all

  that again, Kate. I couldn’t bear it. When I saw you with

  Jean-Paul tonight at the concert, holding hands like a

  pair of lovers, I almost killed him. And I drove back to his

  apartment, only to find him out. I waited around the

  corner, where I could see when his lights went on, and

  then when I got up there, and found you, with your hair

  all tousled, as though he’d been making love to you ...”

  he drew a deep breath, looking savage. “I am amazed at

  how well I controlled my urge to knock him down.”

  Kate shivered at the look on his face. “Don’t!” she said

  sharply.

  “Then don’t you ever again suggest that I could live

  without you,” he said deeply.

  She relaxed against him. “Just as you say, my

  darling,” she whispered.

  And Marc laughed, softly, and began to kiss her again

  with a passion that convinced her that any further

  argument would be a waste of time.

  Next day he called for her, at the Murray apartment,

  and drove her to his Paris home, to meet his mother

  again. Mrs. Lillitos was overjoyed by their news. She

  welcomed Kate with open arms, her eyes filled with

  tears.

  “I am so glad! I knew you were the girl for my son

  when I first met you. The way he looked at you, spoke to

  you, and of you—I could not be mistaken. But then you

  told me you were engaged, and I was worried and

  unhappy. I foresaw grief for Marc.”

  Marc looked down at Kate with amused eyes. “How

  right you were, too, Mother! She has given me more

  headaches than any business deal I ever put through.

  But I’ve got her now, and I mean to keep her!”

  Kate grimaced up at him. “You talk as though I were a

  valuable piece of property instead of a person!”

  “You are valuable, to me,” he teased, and his mocking

  eyes brought hot colour into her cheeks. “And as for not

  being a person ... if you have forgotten how human I can

  be then I’ll have to take you out and show you all over

  again, and it will be a pleasure, I assure you!”

  “Children, children,” said his mother gently, smiling at

  them, “I am too old for such a conversation! So, Marc, you

  have invited Jean-Paul to tea? Have you told Pallas that

  he is coming here?”

  Marc shook his head, grinning lazily. “Let it be a

  surprise for her. I will even ask him to be my best man

  at the wedding. Will you let Pallas be a bridesmaid,

  cherie?”

  “Of course,” she said, still very flushed.

  Three months later they were married, from her home,

  and at the reception she watched Pallas, glowing like an

  apricot in her orange bridesmaid’s dress, toasting their

  health at Jean-Paul’s side.

  Marc grinned at her, his eyes intimate. “I do not think

  Jean-Paul will wait too long before following our

  example!” he whispered.

  She nodded, watching smilingly as Jean-Paul put an

  arm around Pallas and said something to her which

  brought a flush to her cheeks.

  Since their engagement was announced she had seen

  nothing of Marie-Louise, but she was here today, elegant

  and provocative in a vivid flame-coloured dress. She had

  a handsome escort with her and seemed to be enjoying

  herself. But Kate had no doubts as to Marie-Louise’s

  attitude towards herself. Once or twice the French girl

  had looked at her viciously, eyes full of hatred.

  Nothing could mar her happiness today, though. She

  slid her hand through Marc’s arm and he turned his

  head to look down at her with that intimate, smiling

  glance which made her heart turn over.

  “Shall we slip away, now, darling?” he whispered. “I’m

  in a hurry to be alone with you. Three months is a long

  time to wait for what you want.”

  Kate flushed and laughed. Moments later she had shed

  the lacy white bridal gown and was slipping down the

  back way of the hotel in which the reception was being

  held.

  Marc grasped her hand and they ran to where his car

  was secretly parked. Behind them they heard cries of

  whooping pursuit, but they were in the car and away

  before the guests could catch up with them.

  Looking back, she saw Sam waving, and her mother

  tearfully smiling. Pallas and Jean-Paul stood, close

  together, their hands linked.

  “We have both got nice families,” said Marc softly, as the

  car left them all behind.

  “Yes,” she agreed. “But I know a nicer one!”

  He glanced at her, brows lifted.

  “The one we’re going to start some day,” she said,

  smiling at him.

  He drew into the kerb, brakes screeching, and reached

  for her. “For that remark, my sweet, you must pay the

  forfeit!” he whispered, as his lips reached hers.

  And she gladly paid it.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

 

 

 


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