‘I think I can remember the way,’ he drawled with a twist of his lips.
She felt sure he could, settling down comfortably in her seat, Marcus driving with complete familiarity and confidence. The way that he did everything, Beth mused to herself, watching him from beneath lowered lashes. His face looked harsher than ever in profile, his eyes narrowed as he concentrated on negotiating the traffic. Beth didn’t doubt for a moment that he would take her home with little difficulty, despite having been there only once before.
She was starting to believe this man could do anything he set out to do.
Was she falling in love with him?
She gave him a startled look. Surely not. She couldn’t love any man, ever again, it hurt too much.
But she could choose not to love him.
Did one have a choice when it came to loving someone? She had a feeling not. What…?
‘Comfortable?’
She gave a self-conscious look in his direction. Marcus was already out of the car and at her side with the door open, waiting for her to get out. She had been so deep in thought she hadn’t even noticed that the car had stopped!
‘Very,’ she ruefully acknowledged his teasing as she stepped out on to the pavement. ‘Would you like to come up for coffee?’
‘I thought you would never ask,’ he drawled.
Actually, she was nervous of being alone with him after the chaotic thoughts she had just been having about him.
She looked at her apartment with critical eyes as they entered, mentally nodding her approval of the elegant comfort she had introduced into the rooms in the last year. It was a large apartment for one person, she realised, but she had managed to eliminate all trace of Martin. She had a feeling that after tonight Marcus could be the dominating presence she felt here…
‘Coffee,’ she said decisively, more than a little surprised when Marcus followed her out to the kitchen. She had always believed it was a fairly spacious room, but it suddenly seemed dwarfed. Her movements were sure from habit as she prepared the percolator, looking up at Marcus enquiringly as he suddenly grasped her wrist.
‘What’s he like?’ He frowned down at her hand, his thumb rubbing over her fingers.
She swallowed hard. ‘He?’ God, surely Marcus couldn’t be another man who was just trying to do business with her father and was getting to him through her? It would explain his earlier determination. But she just couldn’t bear it if that was the case!
Grey eyes held her gaze unwaveringly. ‘The man whose ring you wore,’ he said softly.
Colour darkened her cheeks, her mouth suddenly dry. ‘How did you—know about that?’
‘It always leaves a mark.’ His thumbtip slowly caressed the finger that had worn her plain gold wedding band and the emerald engagement ring.
She straightened defensively. ‘It was over—long ago,’ she dismissed harshly, wondering what he would say if he realised Martin was the man she had been married to. She could see Martin for exactly what he was now that she wasn’t blinkered by love, and she didn’t want Marcus to know the extent of her folly. ‘It isn’t important,’ she shook her head.
‘You’ve been married,’ he said pointedly.
‘But I didn’t try to hide it from you,’ she reasoned. ‘You just didn’t ask. And I didn’t tell you.’
‘You reverted back to the name of Palmer,’ he said flatly.
Beth drew in a sharp breath, having no answer for that accusation, not without going into details about the name change. And she had no intention of doing that.
‘Look, Marcus, I was married—very briefly—and it didn’t work out. There’s nothing more to be said about it.’ She was more vehement than she would have wished to be because of her recent encounter with Martin. ‘Now, if that bothers you I—Oh!’ she gasped as Marcus’s mouth came down on hers.
All the fight went out of her, as it normally did when Marcus took her in his arms.
His lips were punishing as she clung to him, possessing hers again and again, her pulse leaping, her body all heated fire, her limbs shaking.
The kisses went on and on, Beth feeling as if her body were melting, becoming a part of Marcus, so much so that she could only stare up at him dazedly when he finally raised his head.
A nerve pulsed in his cheek, his eyes almost black.
‘That’s how much it bothers me,’ he bit out harshly, turning on his heel and walking out of the room, the door closing softly behind him seconds later.
Beth was left unsure of just how it affected him—with a potful of bubbling-hot coffee that no one was going to drink…
CHAPTER EIGHT
BETH sipped from the mug of hot coffee that she held in her hands, her eyes heavy from lack of sleep.
It had been a long night, her thoughts going round and round. She had been wrong about the coffee—she had drunk the whole potful! The mug of coffee in her hand was from a fresh pot she had just made.
She didn’t know what had happened last night, had gone over and over it in her mind a thousand times, and she was still no nearer knowing whether her marriage to Martin had bothered Marcus—and, if so, in what way—or not. Had he been showing contempt for that marriage? Dislike of its existence? Indifference? What? She just didn’t know.
Just as she didn’t know whether or not she would be seeing him again.
Her shattered nerves jumped as the telephone began to ring, and she swore softly to herself as she spilt hot coffee over her fingers, swearing again as the hot liquid landed on her bare toes.
She slammed the mug down on the worktop, hopping across the room to snatch up the telephone receiver. ‘Yes?’ she snapped.
‘Well?’ her mother asked eagerly.
Beth frowned, licking the sticky coffee from her fingers. ‘Well, what?’ she said irritably, massaging her burnt toes now.
‘You don’t sound very happy, darling.’ Her mother seemed puzzled.
‘I’ve just spilt hot coffee all over myself in my rush to answer the telephone, so perhaps that has something to do with it!’
‘Oh.’ Her mother sounded flat.
‘Sorry,’ Beth excused her bad temper with a sigh. ‘As you said, I’m not feeling too happy this morning.’
‘No Marcus?’
‘No Marcus, what?’ Her irritation was still with her.
‘Oh, dear,’ her mother groaned regretfully. ‘What went wrong?’
‘After your masterful piece of matchmaking, you mean?’ Beth derided. ‘Mummy, subtlety passed you by years ago.’ She gave a rueful smile, starting to relax a little.
‘Didn’t he take you home?’ Disgust edged her mother’s voice.
‘Yes, he escorted me home,’ she answered evenly. ‘But he also left again, if that’s going to be your next question.’
‘Beth!’
Her mouth twisted with amusement. ‘Don’t pretend to sound shocked, Mummy,’ she teased. ‘Because we both know your next question was going to be “why did he leave?”.’
‘Certainly not… Oh, all right,’ her mother sighed at the truth of that. ‘Maybe that would have been assuming too much,’ she accepted. ‘But he’s gorgeous, Beth. I don’t know how you could resist him.’
‘What makes you think I did?’ she returned drily.
‘Oh.’ Her mother sounded speculative now. ‘But if you didn’t resist him, and he isn’t still there—Beth?’ There was a frown in her voice.
‘Marcus, it would appear, is something of a gentleman,’ she said self-derisively. ‘He is also somewhat bothered by the fact that I’ve been married—and obviously divorced.’
‘Why?’ Her mother sounded puzzled now.
Why? She wished she knew! She had spent hours pondering the same question.
‘I mean, it isn’t as if it’s an unusual occurrence nowadays,’ her mother added slowly. ‘A man of Marcus’s age would be very hard pushed to find any woman who hasn’t been involved, in some way, in a serious relationship that has gone wrong.’
‘That doe
sn’t mean he has to like it, Mummy,’ Beth grimaced.
‘But the marriage break-up wasn’t your fault, darling. Given a choice—’
‘But I wasn’t,’ she sighed. ‘And Marcus isn’t comfortable with it.’
‘Beth, the man followed you from Verona to Venice, and then back here; I can’t believe he finds it that difficult to accept,’ her mother scorned.
‘Perhaps he hadn’t realised then,’ she shrugged. Although he had said last night that wearing a ring for any length of time left a mark that was visible; that must surely have been just as visible in Italy…
‘Maybe not,’ her mother accepted. ‘But I really wouldn’t have believed he was a man that narrow-minded, especially if he knows none of the circumstances for the break-up.’
Neither would Beth, but he had said he had a partly Italian family, so maybe that had some bearing on his views. If he knew of Martin’s reason for divorcing her, the fact that she was no longer able to give him children, his sympathies might lie with the other man anyway! Children were very important to a lot of men, and Beth would be far from the first wife discarded for just such a reason. Marcus was probably also a man whom children would be very important to.
‘It doesn’t matter, Mummy—’
‘Of course it matters!’ her mother snapped. ‘I’m not going to let Martin and your father continue to ruin your life. If they—’
‘That’s another thing that bothers me about last night,’ Beth frowned. ‘What if Marcus decides to accept my failed marriage and then finds out that Martin, a man he was told was no relation to me whatsoever, was actually my ex-husband?’ She hadn’t realised what a problem that could be until those wakeful hours last night. But it could become an insurmountable one.
‘That’s Martin’s problem—’
‘No, it’s mine,’ she insisted.
‘Darling, I think you’re facing problems that may never arise,’ her mother soothed. ‘Going out with the man doesn’t mean you immediately have to start making grand confessions!’
‘But—’
‘It isn’t as if you’re about to marry the man,’ her mother teased.
Beth blushed in spite of herself. ‘No, of course not,’ she said awkwardly. ‘I just—I would feel better if I had been honest about things from the beginning. But Martin—’
‘Darling, you just have to forget about Martin,’ her mother sighed.
‘I would love to, Mummy,’ she said wearily. ‘But I have a feeling he isn’t going to let me.’
She was right about that, wasn’t altogether surprised when he arrived at the apartment later that morning, although she was absolutely furious that he dared to use his key to just walk in unannounced!
Beth had had a bath, washed and dried her hair in an effort to wake herself up, dressing in denims and a loose top so that she could do her housework in comfort, was actually down on her hands and knees washing the kitchen floor when she heard the key in the lock followed by the closing of the door!
She stood up slowly, the wet cloth still in her hands as she moved tentatively into the lounge.
Martin stood just inside the room, idly throwing the door key up in the air before catching it again and then pushing it inside the pocket of his cords. His expression was challenging as Beth watched his movements with furious eyes.
She made a resolve to have the lock changed first thing in the morning!
Martin had never attempted to come anywhere near the apartment after she left the hospital, and so the change had never seemed necessary before. But she didn’t intend this to happen a second time!
‘Your key?’ She held out her hand, not really surprised when he made no effort to retrieve it.
‘Yes, it is, isn’t it?’ he mocked.
‘I’d like it back,’ she grated.
‘Why bother?’ he shrugged, his hands in his pockets now. ‘You’ll be having the lock changed tomorrow anyway.’
She glared at him, hating him even more in that moment, mainly for being so damned knowing about her. And she had once thought him wonderful, even more wonderful than her father. They had both used and betrayed her.
‘What do you want, Martin?’ she asked coldly.
He didn’t answer her immediately, strolling about the room picking up ornaments before putting them down again.
Beth’s nerves were at breaking-point by the time he turned back to her, a mocking expression on his too-handsome face.
‘You’ve made a few changes,’ he drawled, his tone leaving her in no doubt how he felt about those ‘changes’.
‘After I sent your things to you?’ Beth scorned. ‘I didn’t want anything here that would remind me of the mistake I made in marrying you.’
His expression was disdainful as he looked at her. ‘The mistake was all mine, believe me,’ he derided. ‘And it’s obvious to me that the decor in here now is all your idea.’
‘What do you want, Martin?’ she repeated steadily, not at all disturbed by his taunting of her taste—as she once might have been.
‘Thanks, a coffee would be appreciated.’ He deliberately misunderstood the question, dropping down into one of the armchairs, resting the ankle of one leg on the knee of the other one.
She gave an impatient sigh. ‘I don’t feel any need to exchange social pleasantries with you—and that includes offering you a cup of coffee!’
Martin shrugged. ‘I don’t suppose I’ll die of thirst.’ His expression hardened. ‘I want you to stay away from Brenda.’
Beth put the damp cloth down. ‘Yes?’
‘Yes,’ he rasped, sitting forwards, all relaxation gone from his taut body. ‘I don’t want you going anywhere near her again.’
‘Are you still seeing Chloe?’
Anger darkened his eyes. ‘None of your damned business!’
‘Which means you are,’ she said without doubt. ‘And your affair with Chloe was very much my business!’ she bit out tautly. ‘I lost my baby, my only chance of having a child of my own, because of your affair with her!’ She wished she could control the emotion in her voice, but that part of their marriage break-up would always be painful for her. Because of Martin’s affair with Chloe, because of the conversation she had overheard between the two of them, she would never again know the wonder of that life growing inside her, would never hold her own baby in her arms.
‘Bitterness is an ugly emotion,’ Martin said with distaste.
‘I passed bitter long ago,’ Beth told him with disgust. ‘But I’m certainly not going to stand by and see another young girl used in the same way I was!’
‘You lost the baby because you over-reacted to something you saw—’
‘And heard,’ Beth put in harshly. ‘You were in our bed, discussing the physical side of our marriage with your mistress, assuring her that the two of you would be able to be together once I’d had the baby, that then I would no longer be necessary to your plans!’
He looked taken aback that she had heard quite so much of the conversation, but he recovered well. ‘Nosy little parkers never hear any good of themselves,’ he said unsympathetically.
‘You were in our home, in our bed,’ she repeated incredulously. ‘I had every right to be here.’ This was the first time she had ever really discussed this with him, their contact after that day a year ago kept strictly to a minimum, most of it taking place through their respective lawyers.
‘Most women wouldn’t have stayed to listen to the conversation once they realised what was going on,’ Martin dismissed without regret.
‘I couldn’t move,’ Beth defended emotionally. ‘I was frozen to the spot in disbelief. Until that moment I had believed you loved me. It was earth-shattering to realise that our marriage was just a power-play to you, a step up the business ladder.’
‘So you acted like an immature child and miscarried our son!’ he scorned disgustedly.
‘Yet another step up the business ladder,’ she accused heatedly. ‘That’s all he was to you too!’
Marti
n drew in a ragged breath. ‘Rehashing the past isn’t going to help anything—’
‘Are you still seeing Chloe?’ she firmly repeated the question.
‘Yes!’ he answered forcefully, his eyes narrowed with dislike.
‘Then the past is still very important to this situation,’ she breathed heavily. ‘Especially to the young girl you’re about to marry.’
His hands clenched into fists at his sides. ‘Interfere with my relationship with Brenda and I’ll—’
‘Yes?’ Beth challenged as he hesitated about making the threat.
‘Don’t do it, Beth.’ His voice was dangerously calm, all the more effective because of that.
She felt a shiver of apprehension down her spine, but remained outwardly unmoved. ‘People like you and Charles have to be stopped,’ she told him quietly.
‘And you intend being the one who does it?’ Martin sneered. ‘You’re way out of your league, Beth, and likely to get hurt.’
She gave a harsh laugh. ‘You can’t hurt me any more than I already have been.’
‘Don’t you believe it,’ he grated.
If she had been out of her league with these two men, how much more adrift Brenda must be!
‘I’m not going to back down, Martin,’ she told him firmly. ‘Brenda is only a child; someone should at least try to protect her from you.’
‘You don’t even know her,’ he snapped.
‘I know her well enough to realise she doesn’t deserve you—I don’t think any woman does. Except possibly Chloe,’ she added with distaste.
His mouth twisted. ‘Brenda won’t be unhappy as my wife.’
‘Why not? I was!’ Beth snapped.
His expression was mocking. ‘No, you weren’t,’ he taunted. ‘Admit it, Beth, until you overheard that conversation between Chloe and me you had been completely happy with me.’
‘That isn’t quite true,’ she scorned. ‘You see, I was no more happy with the physical side of our marriage than you were.’
‘That’s a lie—’
‘No, Martin, it’s the truth. But I just thought that side of our marriage wasn’t quite so important as the fact that I loved you. But even that happiness was based on lies, your lies.’
Romance 0f A Lifetime (Presents Plus) Page 10