Marigold led the way through all the black suits and into the foyer. From there, Calli led the way to the ladies’ room. “I’ve been in this conference center many times before. Ma and Far do one of these big dinners every year. Kell will be speaking before dessert. He’s half-annoyed and half-pleased, but Far has been impressed with him from the start and thinks he is a great asset. So do I.” Calli deliberately fluttered her eyelashes. “For entirely different reasons.”
When Marigold had finished in the loo, she stepped outside to make room for the lines of women waiting to enter. Calli hadn’t yet left. Like someone about to cross the road, Marigold looked to the left, looked to the right, and spotted Hagen disappearing around the corner in the direction of the atrium. Since the dinner had begun, she hadn’t spoken to him, though she had caught his glance a couple of times. Reining him in now for a comfortable review of the night so far seemed like a good idea.
Clutching her little bag under her arm, she managed a catwalk strut in her heels. Apparently, he hadn’t quite reached the atrium because she heard his voice. “I thought we agreed to keep it quiet.” His voice sounded deep and cool.
A woman answered him. “You said we would. I didn’t necessarily agree.”
“What’s this really about? Your visit to my office last week?”
“You’re not the only man in the world. If you’ve found someone else, good luck to you. I can find someone else, too.” The voice moved closer and then suddenly, Scarlett marched around the corner, her face tight and hard. “Muriel,” she said in precise voice. “You’re welcome to him.”
Hagen, a bare two steps behind, stopped, his face set. He stared after Scarlett and then back at Marigold. After visibly collecting himself, he eked out a smile. “There you are. I was looking for you.”
Marigold stood, welded to the spot. ‘If you have found someone else…’ She hoped she was smiling, though she couldn’t be sure. “If you want to find women at large functions, most of us are lined up outside the loo.” Her voice sounded steady, though the pulse in her neck thrummed with the beat of her heart. “The men’s loos don’t get the same amount of traffic. I’ve always thought a good designer of venues used for large functions should take a more considered approach to that sort of thing.”
He hadn’t explained what had happened between him and Scarlett in the office last week. Scarlett had looked smug and he had been flustered.
At the time, Marigold hadn’t been overly concerned. Her employer didn’t need to answer to her. Now in a relationship with him, she recognized the expression on the face of the other woman was one of humiliation. She had been supplanted. Apparently, as Sandra had originally hinted, the two had enjoyed a relationship. Marigold hadn’t suspected that. Hagen had let her think he had been, until her, a bereaved widower. Apparently, she was as blind as her mother. Hardening inside, she stood straighter, chin higher.
“You’re a very astute woman.” He sounded a little more relaxed, though he kept his eyes on Scarlett’s retreating back.
Marigold fixed her smile. “Scarlett is everywhere these days. How did she get a date with a married man from interstate?”
“I suppose she knows someone who knows someone. Isn’t that the way this sort of thing usually happens?”
“Not in my world. I’ve never had anyone ask me to go out with a stranger. She wouldn’t be working for an escort service, would she?”
He laughed, as if his dates witnessed scenes between him and his ex-lovers all the time. “I doubt it. Her divorce settlement was very generous. I think she is the sort of woman who wants to attend every function possible, and she asks around until she finds out how to wrangle an invitation.”
“Do people really live like that?”
“They do in her circles. Not in mine.”
Not his? Which were his circles and which were Scarlett’s? In the foyer, Scarlett had said something about husbands playing around with wives’ best friends. Had she been referring to herself? Sandra had said Scarlett was Mercia’s friend. This would explain Hagen’s caginess. Marigold should have suspected that he had been playing around outside of his marriage when she recalled his comment about having himself tested for a sexually transmitted disease.
For a man to have an STD check, he must have had some reason. He said he had been tested recently. Before or after Scarlett?
Marigold’s head ached. According to Scarlett, Marigold was welcome to Hagen.
She tucked a wandering lock of her hair behind her ear, desperate to put aside thoughts about his former or current relationship with Scarlett. Having tonight ruined by the other woman was unbearable. Unable to look him in the eye, she said, “I shouldn’t have chased you down, but I wanted a review of my performance tonight.”
“Gold. Twenty-four carat.” He fingered the top button on his jacket, as if needing something to do with his hand. “Thomas and Bertrand enjoyed themselves. You don’t have the opportunity to sit beside a beautiful and intelligent woman at every corporate dinner.”
“That’s good to know,” she said drily.
“As you can see by my partners tonight, I rarely have a chance myself.” He sounded wry.
“That’s even better to know.” She silently added, for the time being. While she had Hagen, she would enjoy him without worrying about where he had been before and with whom. For tonight, at least, he was hers.
After they sat down again for a chocolate dessert that Marigold found she couldn’t swallow, Kell gave an amusing talk about being the company’s project manager, which raised a cheer. Calli had done well for her family in marrying him. Hagen had done well for his family in marrying Mercia. Tiggy wouldn’t let team Allbrook down, either. Marigold had no one who would be proud or ashamed of her. Her behavior would only ever reflect on her upbringing.
If the Allbrooks knew she was currently cohabiting with Hagen they would never see her the same way. Awkward wouldn’t even begin to explain how that would color her relationship with them, which was why she had never even hinted to Hagen’s sisters that she had a crush on him. As long as they never knew she had let them down by succumbing to her desperate feelings for him, she would be safe from losing their respect.
With this in mind, she didn’t cling to him on the way out the door that night. Though he would fade out of her life too soon, she had him for tonight. Even the world’s greatest cad wouldn’t invite one woman to dress in his house, and wear a gown he bought, and leave a function with another.
His car slid into his garage and stopped after one last powerful sigh. He walked around and handed her out. With a careful expression on his face, he took her into his arms, and rested his face on her hair. “Watching you from the other side of the table was torture.”
“Did you think I would say something tactless to embarrass you?” she asked in a dead voice.
“What brought that on? You’re the one person I trust never to embarrass me. Good as gold, Marigold. Your behavior is as perfect as the way you looked tonight. If only I could sing, I would sing that to you,” he added softly.
“It would echo quite bit in the garage.”
He laughed and then his face turned serious. “I don’t know what you heard between Scarlett and me, but sometimes she gossips too much. I would prefer her to keep private matters private.”
“Nobody wants to hear gossip, unless it’s about someone else. Take it that I heard nothing worthwhile.” She smoothed his pale gold hair back from his face and rose to her toes to press a soft kiss on his mouth. “I felt like a princess tonight. I wouldn’t have missed the function for the world. Property developing is much more interesting than I would have previously thought.”
“The scale of what you previously thought being nil?”
She shook her head. “Two or three. I’ve given it a ranking of eight now. That’s out of ten, in case you were wondering.”
“What would I have
to do for you to give a ranking of ten to my family’s company?”
“Promote me to social director.” She turned and led the way into the house.
He followed her. “We don’t have one. But I’ll see if I can find a place.”
“When I go back to my old job, I’m going to feel hard done by—no dinners, no company perks at all.” She continued through the kitchen to the upstairs, her every step forced, her every thought blotted out.
Hagen kept close behind her, saying nothing. She entered the bedroom, about to head into her dressing room, but he stopped her by the bed, loosening the knot of his tie. Then he took her little bag from her and tossed it to the side of the room. “And after all the time you took to slip into the gown, I am going to take it off you inch-by-inch.” His voice sounded low and husky.
Her gaze met his, and she saw on his face an expression of tenderness that she hadn’t seen before. Her breath eased out in a slow sigh of helpless yearning. “I could do with a little help.” Her voice trembled, and she so much wanted to be the sophisticate he would prefer—but she could be no one other than herself, a woman who had only ever loved one man, this man.
He stepped closer and held her against his big warm body while he eased down the zip of her gown. “I like your style. I always have.”
“It’s your style.” She nuzzled her face into his neck. His golden skin tasted like salty shaving cream, which she suddenly decided she craved. “You bought this gown for me.”
“Anyone could have bought the gown.” His lips touched her forehead, his voice so low that he barely whispered. “Not everyone can have the woman underneath, and I don’t know how I got so lucky.”
“I don’t know how I did, either.” She lifted to her toes, her arms around his neck, while his mouth began a slow exploration of hers. At the same time, he slid her gown off her shoulders.
The weight sent the fabric to the floor in thick folds. She eased her body away from his, stepping out of the gown, keeping the gentle pressure of his lips against hers. At the same time, she began to unbutton his shirt. He had no problem whatsoever unhooking her bra, and he tossed aside the lacy scrap. For a moment, he stopped kissing her and leaned back to help her to wrestle his shirt buttons undone. Then he dragged her into the circle of his arms again, his palms settling onto the sides of her breasts.
Her nipples, squashed against the skin of his chest, began to swell and ache. He lifted her hair and kissed her neck, her shoulders, beneath her chin, and down to the tops of her breasts. At the same time, he dragged a thumb across each nipple. Sensitized, she made a sound of yearning. She stood, her hands on his broad shoulders, barely breathing, her gaze on his perfect face. His expression said he loved her, and for a moment she believed that they belonged together. She couldn’t speak if she tried. Instead, she kicked off her shoes.
She wore cheap thin pantyhose, and she didn’t mind a bit when he slid the fabric down with her undies. Lifting each foot out, she stood naked in his arms, warmed by his athletic body close against her. Clearly, he would remove his own trousers, but first he edged out of his shoes. He toed off his socks. She had never seen anyone do that before, and she smiled, but just once in her life she wanted to undo a man’s zipper. She pushed his ready hands out of the way and did so.
“Done,” she said in a strange whispery voice she hardly recognized. “My dream come true.”
“Which part of this was your dream? Getting me naked? You’ve done that before a couple of times. It’s not so hard.”
“At the risk of falling into a linguistic trap, it’s hard enough.”
He gave a long slow smile. “Hard enough for a condom.”
“Do you have one in your pocket?”
“In my back pocket.” His eyebrows lifted with a clear challenge. “If you put it on me, that will be my dream come true.”
She scrabbled behind him and found a line of condoms. After tearing one off, she carefully took out the fragile protection while he stepped out of his trousers and his knit boxers.
His smooth, hard penis stood erect and he breathed carefully as she rolled on the condom. Then he moved right up against her, hitching her leg over his hip, his erection hard and thick and eager. Without noticeable effort, he lifted her by the waist and landed her onto the middle of the bed, his body right on top of her with her leg still curled over his thighs.
Then he began kissing her, from her mouth to her neck, to her breasts and back again to her mouth. She squirmed with pleasure, guiding his penis into her slick folds. Instantly, her need grew desperate, and she clutched at his muscular, tight buttocks, urging him on with the pressure of her fingers. He took her lips again and slowly edged inside her, not as easily as she might have expected. Nevertheless, she arched with an almost painful pleasure, noting that her body seemed only too willing to moisten and accommodate him. Raising her pelvis, she wound her legs around his hips and took him deeper. Her fingers clenched in his hair while her body took control of her emotions, lifting and moving in counterpoint to his rhythm.
Her skin prickled with damp heat. As he began to thrust harder and faster, almost shifting her up the bed with the force, she lost control of her breathing. Gasping, she tightened around him, experiencing a peak she would rather hold back. Although she did her best to prolong the moment, her body acted independently, and she began to climax. A sound like a wail came from the back of her throat.
Hagen was still hard when she flopped, her body sated. He rose on one elbow and examined her face. “I think you could probably do that again,” he said in a smoky tone.
“I couldn’t. My heart would stop beating. But if you have to…” She muffled her laugh into the skin of his shoulder.
He moved her hair back off her face and gazed into her eyes. “I don’t have to,” he said in an uncharacteristically gruff tone. “Not if you’ve had enough, but I think I can make you want me again.”
He slid down the bed and took her with his mouth. Her body didn’t consider resisting and she climaxed again. The next time she climaxed, he came with her, inside her. Although she fell asleep almost instantly, she awoke in the middle of the night, still in his arms, a disturbing dream running through the tunnels of her mind.
In the dream, she knew where she lived but couldn’t remember how to get there. She followed twisted stairs, entered various strange doorways, but whichever way she tried, she ended up in an elevator that wouldn’t work without a code she didn’t have. The other passengers smiled but couldn’t help. Every analysis of the dream made less sense than the last. Her eyes opened to in a room full of light. And still she tried to make sense of her dream. That she needed to go home was the clearest message but why she couldn’t was a mystery. Soon she would lose all these sleep memories but she stayed awake, lying on her side, watching Hagen sleeping.
He breathed deeply and regularly. She noted the thickness of his light eyelashes, the strength of his facial bones, and how his hair stayed perfectly in place. Not only was he handsome, but he was beautiful. One day he would make beautiful babies with some lucky woman who would be as golden and as gorgeous as he. He had lost that chance with Mercia’s death, but his chance would come again.
Her chance with him had never been a reality. She wanted to stay with him for the rest of her life, but when she had rolled on his condom, the act had reminded her once again about the life he had led before she had begun to work for him. He had worked and played like any other man, and he’d had a wife he mourned. But he’d recently been tested for STDs. What did ‘recently’ mean?
At the time he told her, she had accepted his words as throwaways, proof that he was willing to make sure he wouldn’t pass on any accidentally acquired disease. But he would only have had himself tested if he thought he had been at risk. In what sort of world would a happily married man be at risk? Extramarital activity would require a condom, but a married woman would more than likely be taking the c
ontraceptive pill, and he wouldn’t see the need. Would he?
Of course, this could always have been Scarlett’s husband and she had been the wife who had found out, but in that case why would Hagen want her to keep the matter quiet? In conversation before the dinner, Scarlett had referred to husbands sleeping with friends of wives. Not widowers or divorcees, but husbands and wives.
Marigold had to face facts. Everything she had heard from Hagen or Scarlett pointed to them having an affair while married to other partners. Unable to shut off her thoughts, she stared at the dark ceiling. Her own father had also been a cheater. Julian had been playing around with Jane while he was married to Marigold’s mother.
Marigold had always loved Hagen, but she realized she was now in love with him, too, which was a different matter entirely. In love meant consumed with love, achingly in love, besotted, and needy. However, she couldn’t give so much of herself to a man like her father, who took commitment lightly, who saw his marriage vows as unimportant. Hoping not to wake him, she reached over to switch off the bedside lamp.
The first time she had broken up with Hagen had been bad enough. She couldn’t go through those empty hours again, the crying jags, the sense of loss, almost of mourning. The second time would be worse because she now knew the depth of her love for him.
To go back to her lonely bed in her lonely house would be the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. Her mother had not fought Julian leaving her. She had let him go after barely uttering a word. Marigold wasn’t her mother. She wouldn’t let a man make a fool of her for years and then watch him leave anyway. Marigold would do the leaving before she had too much to lose.
Shifting away from him, she turned her back, determined not to weaken. He would survive without her, and she would survive without him. She had previously. As soon as Tiggy arrived home, Marigold would go back to her old job in property staging for someone else. She didn’t have Tiggy’s talent for property design.
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