obstacle.
She turned to look at him as he stood so mockingly in front of Mark. ‘Our relationship is none of your concern, Adam,’ she told him flatly. ‘Nothing that has happened in my life over the last three years is,’ she added determinedly.
Adam’s mouth curved wryly. ‘I’ve been waiting most of that time for some family announcement of a wedding between the two of you.’ He looked at them both coldly. ‘Or did she turn you down a second time, Mark?’ he added scornfully.
Again Maggi put a restraining hand on Mark’s arm. Adam had always liked to bait the younger man. The friendship she’d had with his cousin before knowing him had always been a sore point with him, even though it had been Adam she had loved. It was true that perhaps if she had never met Adam she might have one day married Mark. But she had met Adam, and so the question of any marriage between herself and Mark was now ridiculous. As Adam must know only too well. He was just playing his games again—and she, for one, did not want to play!
‘Mark and I don’t need marriage to cement our relationship.’ Again Maggi was the one to answer him. ‘We know how we feel about each other,’ she added challengingly, feeling some of the tension leave Mark as her hand still rested on his arm.
Adam’s mouth thinned disapprovingly. ‘So does everyone else when the two of you are openly staying here together!’ He looked around him pointedly.
‘Moral indignation, Adam?’ Mark taunted, completely in control again now, squeezing Maggi’s hand in thanks for her support before moving slightly away. ‘That’s rich, coming from you.’ He looked at the other man contemptuously.
Neither Maggi nor Mark, she was sure, had any intention of telling Adam that this suite had two bedrooms: one for Mark and one for herself. If he chose to believe the two of them shared the bedroom they had just left, then that was Adam’s problem. He only had his own warped morals by which to judge other people...
Adam looked coldly at the younger man for several seconds before slowly turning back to Maggi. ‘I didn’t come here to talk to the monkey,’ he bit out disgustedly, his gaze dark on Maggi’s face now. ‘I spoke to the organisers of the festival after you left earlier,’ he told her smoothly. ‘They were very pleased with the way things went this evening.’
‘You had no right to talk to any—’
‘I’m sure they were,’ Maggi interrupted Mark’s angry outburst, glaring steadily at Adam.
He nodded unconcernedly. ‘They would like us to repeat the performance tomorrow evening.’
‘No,’ she told him flatly, having already guessed what he was going to say; the organisers of the festival would be very silly not to try and cash in on the fact that Adam Carmichael was willing to perform. ‘For one thing, I’m sure a world-famous celebrity like yourself must have a more pressing engagement—’
‘None that I can think of,’ he dismissed easily, looking at her challengingly now, hands thrust deeply into the pockets of his black trousers.
‘And for another,’ she continued as if he hadn’t interrupted, ‘I’m a solo performer myself now. I don’t sing with anyone else.’ It was a flat statement of fact which held no challenge. ‘The organisers either accept that, and I go on stage alone tomorrow evening, or I don’t perform at all,’ she added.
His mouth twisted. ‘You’re better than you ever were, Magdalena,’ he acknowledged dryly. ‘So I’m sure they will accept that.’
‘Then there’s no problem, is there?’ She gave him a humourless smile, immune to his praise, knowing that it was being given on a purely professional level; that was one area where Adam was always completely objective. As she knew only too well.
He shrugged those broad shoulders. ‘The problem is, we were always better together than apart.’
Maggi drew in a harsh breath. ‘It’s a little late in the day for you to realise that!’ she snapped scornfully.
‘I always knew it, Magdalena,’ he told her softly. ‘It’s just that there were commitments three years ago, commitments you weren’t able to meet—’
‘You know damn well why she wasn’t able to meet them!’ Mark exploded. ‘Good God, man, she—’
‘That’s all old ground, Mark,’ she interrupted firmly, her voice a little shriller than she would have wished. But to talk of the past was still hurtful for her; she couldn’t deal with it objectively. ‘It certainly has no relevance to here and now. It must be all too obvious that we have completely separate lives now, Adam. And I want it to continue that way,’ she added hardly. Knowing Adam in the past had ultimately brought her only pain; she had no illusions left where he was concerned. She certainly didn’t want her life involved with his again—not in any way!
‘Musically—’
‘Musically too,’ she cut in. ‘It’s late, Adam,’ she continued. ‘It’s been a long day, and I would like to get some sleep.’
He made no move to leave. ‘You do realise there are bound to be repercussions from our being on stage together tonight?’
She wasn’t so naive that she didn’t realise their joint performance this evening would give rise to speculation about a new merging of talents; she just didn’t want to deal with it now. Certainly not when Adam was present!
‘I think the only repercussion that is likely to occur as a result of tonight’s one-off performance,’ Mark cut in dismissively, ‘is that the general public will see that Maggi Fennell and Adam Carmichael are—publicly, at least—friends again, despite all the media speculation.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Privately, of course, it’s a completely different story!’ He turned to comfort Maggi. ‘I don’t think too much harm will come out of this evening, love,’ he assured her gently.
‘You’re a fool, Mark,’ the older man told him coldly. ‘But then, you always were. Magdalena—’
‘Get out of here, Adam,’ Mark bit out shortly.
‘I—’
‘Can’t you see Maggi has had enough?’ the younger man interjected forcefully.
She could feel Adam’s gaze on her now, didn’t need to look at him to know he was looking at her. And she knew what he would see, knew that her face was pale, ethereally so, her eyes made to look even darker because of the shadows beneath them. She had never been particularly robust before her illness, but now her health was delicate to say the least. Tonight had been a strain she could well have done without.
‘You’re right,’ Adam finally, grudgingly conceded. ‘I’ll come back in the morning, for breakfast, and we can talk about this then—’
‘No!’ Mark was right; she had had enough. By rights Adam shouldn’t even be here, let alone be dictating what they would and wouldn’t do. Her eyes flashed. ‘I’ve told you, Adam.’ She looked at him unblinkingly. ‘We have nothing left to say to each other. About anything,’ she added to save his protests. ‘I don’t want you to come back here, tomorrow or any other time. Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I’m tired and I’m going to bed.’ She didn’t wait for a response from either man, turning sharply on her heel and going back to her bedroom.
It
