He was silent for a while and then, out of the blue, he said, ‘By the way, Lukes has told me he’s leaving the company.’
Hayley was stunned. Why had Martin chosen to spring the news on Marcus today of all days?
‘You knew, of course,’ he stated, without giving her a chance to answer. ‘Was the meal a thank-you for your moral support?’
‘I didn’t know until today,’ she said woodenly. ‘The meal was a celebration.’
‘So that was the reason for the sexy dress.’ He cast her a coolly ironic glance. ‘A celebration with the boyfriend.’
Hayley stared at him, perplexed and angry. ‘Martin isn’t my boyfriend. And I dress to please myself.’ She lifted her chin defiantly. ‘I’m sure it’s inconvenient for you to lose Martin at the moment, but surely he’s entitled to better himself if he can.’
He grunted. ‘Do you seriously think he’s bettering himself? No one betters the salary I pay.’
She said doggedly, ‘People’s views on what’s meaningful differ. Perhaps Martin looks beyond the subject of money.’
‘Doubtful, I’d say.’ His tone was disparaging. ‘And I must say, for someone who isn’t interested in Lukes, you seem to know a lot about him.’
‘I didn’t say I wasn’t interested. I have a friendly interest.’
‘So I noticed. Friendly enough for you to kiss him in public this morning.’ He gave a short, hard, humourless laugh. ‘But then I forgot; that’s your usual style, isn’t it, Miss Pushy?’
His attack surprised and dismayed her. It showed he still hadn’t forgotten that foolish incident. She might have guessed he’d dig it out and use it against her at some time.
She said at last, hiding her visibly shaking hands in her lap, ‘That was a long time ago, Mr Maury.’ It seemed like a lifetime.
‘Not that long.’ His voice was softly jeering. ‘You never did explain it. And you’re still pretty free with your kisses.’
Hayley’s mouth trembled, but she bit hard on her bottom lip to steady it.
‘If it makes you happy to think that, then go ahead,’ she said dully. ‘I’d rather not discuss it.’
He grimaced. ‘And I’m damned sure I would prefer to forget it.’
She turned on him angrily. ‘Then why don’t you? After all, it doesn’t really concern you. I’m only your secretary. Anyone would think...’
She broke off as he shot her a hostile, enquiring look that dared her to go on.
‘That you were jealous.’ The words were out before she could stop them and she gave a little gasp, putting her hand to her mouth.
He looked stunned and then furious.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her voice barely audible. ‘That was a silly thing to say.’
The car slowed and drew to a halt at the side of the road. Releasing the seatbelts, he caught her arms in a grip of steel.
‘Is it silly?’ he demanded in a voice that was strangely hoarse, and then answered his own question. ‘Yes, I suppose it is. But the real stupidity is in trying to pretend that it isn’t true.’
Hayley’s eyes widened on his. ‘I...I don’t understand.’
‘Don’t you? I should have thought it was obvious.’ He pulled her closer. ‘Yes, I’m jealous. When I saw you kissing him this morning I could have hit him and wrung your lovely neck.’
His mouth came down savagely on hers, giving her no time to absorb his astounding admission. With the warm pressure of his mouth against hers, persuasive, parting her own to taste the inner sweetness, it would soon be impossible to think of anything more than the sensations his kiss was arousing.
But she tried, knowing this was madness. In fact everything that had happened between them had been madness and they would both regret this later, when the adrenalin ebbed and sanity returned. She wished she could tell him all this, but his mouth was exploring hers with a famished intensity that was sweeping her own senses away.
A strange kind of yearning began somewhere deep inside her and she shivered as he drew her even closer, his hands moving against her waist and the gentle curve of her hip. She strained towards him, her lips answering his with their own need, her body seeming to catch fire with the heat of her longing.
She heard him groan and was aware of a searing disappointment as he began to move away from her. Involuntarily she clutched at him, and he laughed softly.
‘Hayley, this is an English country road and it’s still broad daylight,’ he murmured. ‘Neither the time nor the place.’
As he moved back, Hayley’s eyes held his in clouded confusion, her hands gripping the lapels of his jacket in a mute question. What was this? Some kind of game to relieve the tedium of the day?
He gave a little laugh. ‘We’ll talk later, Hayley. In the meantime, here’s something to think about.’
Leaning forward, he pressed a light, soft kiss against her mouth. It was over in a second, but he was right. The sensation haunted her for a long time afterwards.
He started up the car again and she sat in a kind of a daze, questions chasing around in her head.
How could she have let him kiss her that way; let herself respond to him with absolutely no resistance? And what kind of jealousy had he admitted to? Probably the dog-in-the-manger type of jealousy Martin had accused him of. She was his secretary, bought and paid for, with a sign that commanded ‘Don’t touch’. Except himself, of course, when he was in the mood.
And where was her old resentment at the casual way he’d claimed her? Why hadn’t she fought him with all the fury and disdain such chauvinism should have aroused? The answer to that lay in her feelings for him, which led her, at some deep unconscious level, to hope...knowing such hope was an act of self-deceit.
Rationally she knew that to him his lovemaking was a game, a shameful game of ‘When the cat’s away...’ And if she had any pride...any common sense, she would make sure she kept a cool head as far as he was concerned.
But at the moment she was far from cool.
The thought of staying overnight with him in a hotel loomed over her, but despite everything she was aware of a deep, tantalising anticipation. How could her mind and feelings be split this way? He was dangerous, she acknowledged, to her peace of mind and her pride, but he drew her like a chasm to its edge. Would she be able to follow without jumping off to her own destruction?
She was disturbed by the look the receptionist gave them as they signed the register. Marcus was looking handsome, distinguished, amazingly fresh still in his expensive business suit and crisp white shirt. And she stood alongside in her sexy dress, with her hair a little wild and probably her lipstick smudged. When Marcus politely passed her the register for her signature, she was glad her name was Morgan and not Smith.
She was even more disturbed to discover, as they were escorted to the first floor, that they had been given adjoining rooms.
‘I’ve booked dinner for eight,’ Marcus said curtly once the girl, with a last curious glance, had left them. ‘I’ll give your door a knock around then.’
He seemed absorbed in his own thoughts, turning to enter his room with only a brief glance in her direction.
Hayley’s spirits sank. She herself had predicted that when he’d cooled off he would regret the searing moments of passion in the car, but it still hurt to be proved right. When are you going to regain your sanity, girl? she admonished herself, knowing she should be feeling gladness, instead of this odd deflation. The more distance he kept between them, the less likely she would be to make a fool of herself.
She consoled herself with a leisurely bath and then set about choosing something to wear. The skirts and blouses were formal office wear, she realised, silently cursing her contrary mood of the morning. The only possible choice was the midnight-blue cocktail dress that she’d worn to the première. Its thin straps seemed hardly capable of holding it up and, observing the plunge of the neckline, she was almost tempted to take it off and wear a skirt and blouse after all.
But the dress was a real favour
ite of hers. It made her feel good, boosted her confidence, and goodness knew it could do with a little boosting tonight.
She smoothed the silky fabric over her trim hips and regarded her reflection critically, but she could find no fault. It turned her light tan to honey-gold and enhanced her slim waist and full rounded bosom. Her shapely legs looked slim and elegant in matching strappy sandals.
Her hair, loosed from its restraining coil, sprang vibrantly from the brush and rioted in a cloud of rich dark brown curls. A little light eye make-up and some lipstick added a glow, and she cast a last satisfied glance in the mirror just as his knock sounded on the door.
His brows rose in silent appreciation as she stood framed in the doorway, and she felt her colour rise at the warm glint in his blue eyes, which sent shivers of response down her spine.
She managed a calm smile, stepping out into the corridor and locking the door behind her. ‘I hope there’s something good on the menu. I’m starving.’
‘It would have to be very good to beat what I’m looking at.’
Hayley stifled a sigh. She wished he wouldn’t say things like that. It confused her. One minute he was furious with her and the next full of admiration.
‘More of those swings and roundabouts you warned me about?’ she queried, looking him straight in the eye, hoping she’d find some clue to guide her through the evening.
He laughed, his eyes crinkling with amusement. ‘I should have warned myself,’ he said.
And what was she to make of that?
Dinner was served in the large dining-room at the rear of the hotel, overlooking a beautiful informal garden and an ornamental lake. There were lights hung in the trees, which would no doubt be lit at dusk to add to the charmed atmosphere.
‘You look delightful, Hayley,’ Marcus said softly, the words vibrating along her nerves like music on a finely tuned instrument. ‘A fresh surprise every time I look at you.’
‘Thank you,’ Hayley murmured, glad of the interruption as the waiter served their first course.
‘This is spinach?’ she said, her brows rising.
There was a neat little parcel of pastry on her plate, its four corners pointing into the middle, a creamy white sauce oozing from the folds.
She cut into it and took a mouthful. ‘Mmm. Wonderful!’
Marcus laughed. ‘What’s wonderful is the way you enjoy things. It almost makes it worth what it probably cost.’
The rest of the meal lived up to the start, the wines changing with the courses. She drank only a little of each, but felt decidedly heady by the time coffee was served. The rich, strong brew, sipped slowly because it was hot, took the headiness away and left the happiness.
She looked around the quietly luxurious room and said drily, ‘For a stopover hotel, Liz certainly broke the bank with this one. I’m sure she could have found a cheaper one.’
‘She did,’ he said, his mouth curving at one corner. ‘I changed reservations.’
Hayley’s mouth dropped open. ‘But why?’
‘Because I knew you’d like it.’ He reached across the table and took her hand, his thumb brushing lightly against the palm, creating eddies of excitement. ‘And because this one is more romantic.’
His eyes were a softer captivating blue, luring her into their smouldering depths. Somewhere a little warning bell was ringing.
She didn’t smile. ‘Are you sure you don’t mean seductive?’
He sighed and took his hand away. ‘I mean exactly what I say. When are you going to start listening?’
The wine had loosened her tongue after all. She said, ‘Perhaps when I know I can trust you.’
He frowned. ‘Do you have reason to think you can’t?’
She shrugged, feeling a sudden spurt of anger, the rising of a fear that she had thought long-buried.
‘Only in the way that I’ve learned not to trust any man. I used to work for a man who thought that just because he paid my salary he was entitled to take whatever liberties...’
She gave a sudden convulsive shudder. Why on earth should she have begun to think of Frank Heaton now?
His mouth was grim line. ‘And what’s been happening between us was...taking liberties?’
She seemed unable to stop. ‘Perhaps. Your approach is more subtle, of course, but what you want is the same in the end.’ She went on bitterly, ‘Unfortunately for my ex-boss his looks and technique are against him, but maybe his approach is the more honest. At least there was no mistaking what he was after.’
Marcus sat back, releasing his hold on her hand, studying her from under the heavy brown lashes. ‘And you think I’m after the same?’
Hayley’s cold glance challenged him. ‘Well, aren’t you?’
He gave a short, unamused laugh. ‘If you mean do I want to take you to bed and make love to you, the answer is yes. But I thought...I believed...it was what you wanted too.’
Hayley’s eyes flew wide in astonishment. She hadn’t expected him to admit it quite so blatantly. Neither had she thought she’d been that transparent.
‘Was I wrong?’
Remembering them together in the car, the way her body had burned as he’d held her in his arms, knowing he’d felt her response, it was difficult to deny it.
‘At the time...no. But the difference between you and me is that I’m free to make that kind of choice.’
His brows rose. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’
Hayley met the piercing blue gaze with a painfully thudding heart. ‘Oh, come on, Marcus! Don’t you know?’
It was then she remembered that she hadn’t passed on Felicity’s message that she was free this evening, but somehow it didn’t seem to matter. Marcus hadn’t been anyway. She gave a funny little giggle.
He made an impatient sound. ‘Drink up your coffee. We’ll finish this discussion in a more appropriate setting.’
Hayley did as he said, with a feeling of having stepped across some invisible line, and his expression told her he would allow her no avenue of retreat.
Outside in the warm night he took her arm and led her into the sheltered garden. The night was warm and scented, the sky hung with a myriad stars, but Hayley found she was shivering. She was nervous and her heart had begun to hammer quite painfully against her ribs.
She stole a glance at Marcus and saw, to her surprise and relief, that he was no longer angry.
‘What you’ve told me makes sense of a lot of things,’ he said, taking her hand and rubbing the cold fingers between his. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
‘No, I don’t want to talk about it, or think about it ever again.’ She was shivering uncontrollably now.
He put his arm about her shoulder. ‘If you’d like to go to your room...’
‘No! I want to be with you.’ It was a cry of anguish, and his arm tightened about her. She turned her head in against his shoulder. ‘Oh, Marcus! I’m so confused. I don’t know what to think any more.’
‘Then don’t think; just look at me.’
He raised her chin with a gentle finger so that their eyes met. All the confusion, all the pain seemed to melt away in the warm blue depths of his gaze.
‘What do you see?’ he asked, so softly that it was hardly a sound.
Hayley shook her head, afraid to say that in his eyes shone everything she’d ever dreamed of. Because this was a dream and soon she’d wake up.
‘Do you want me as much as I want you?’ he asked.
Her need was so huge, so painful. ‘How much is that?’
Marcus drew her into his arms kissing her gently, tenderly, drawing a hesitant response that grew more positive as he stroked her face, her hair, her slender throat. Softly, sensuously, his mouth caressed hers, his tongue outlining her lips, thrusting gently until she met him with her own.
Somewhere deep inside her a fire had ignited, its flames licking upwards, consuming her senses. Her arms reached out to hold him, moving urgently against his strong neck, the broad, hard shoulders.
He pulled her closer, kissing her deeply, almost hungrily, his hands moving urgently against her back and down, moulding her against him, the hardness of him pressing against her thigh.
How could this happen so quickly? she asked herself in some inner recess of her mind. Why was the effect so instantaneous for them both?
As the kiss went on the magic of his mouth claimed her, firing a passion she had never before experienced. As her taut body softened, pressing against him of its own volition, she heard a small growl deep in his throat.
Lifting his head, he looked into the soft velvet-brown eyes, glistening with excitement, and said softly, ‘You’ve answered my question. Now I’ll answer yours.’
He pushed her away and took her hand, leading her back towards the hotel and up the stairway. At the door of her room he held out his hand for the key.
Tremblingly she fumbled in her bag and then held it out to him, a stunned expression on her face. Things were happening so fast that there was no time for pondering upon her own weakness.
The door was at last open and he was drawing her inside, taking the bag from her to drop it on the floor before taking her once again into his arms.
It felt like coming home, and she wound her arms about his neck, all pretence fading as his lips moved persuasively on hers. As she pressed herself hard against him, yearning for his deeper embrace, he lifted her up and carried her effortlessly towards the bed, where he stood her again on her feet. With his lips still on hers, he slid the zip of her dress down, brushing the light material from her shoulders, slipping the belt from her waist to allow the garment to fall with a soft sighing sound about her feet. She gasped as his deft fingers unhooked her bra to reveal the hard, aroused swell of her breasts, and shuddered as his warm hand moulded her tingling flesh.
As his mouth lifted from hers and traced a path of fiery kisses down the arch of her throat she made a small cry of protest.
‘Marcus.’ She spoke his name in a voice husky with passion and a hint of fear.
‘Hush, my love.’
Gently he pushed her back on to the bed, swiftly removing her panties, that wisp of lace, the last barrier. And then he was shrugging out of his own clothes to lie naked beside her, where the heat of him, the clean male scent of his skin, had her senses spinning dizzily. Her fingers, seemingly of their own volition, reached up to twine in his thick hair, drawing his head to hers.
When Strangers Meet Page 13