hesitated. ‘Can’t it wait until tomorrow? I—I’m rather tired.’
‘I’d rather we spoke now.’ He paused, then added flatly, ‘I’ll count to three, then I’m coming in.’
To find her, she realised numbly, naked except for a pair of lace briefs.
She heard him say, ‘One…’ and called back, her voice strangled, ‘No, wait—please.’
Hastily she searched along the rail for the pretty ivory satin robe which Lynne had insisted should be added to their haul and dragged it from its hanger, thrusting her arms into its sleeves and knotting the sash firmly round her slender waist.
As she opened the door, Jake walked past her into the room and stood hands on hips, viewing her critically. ‘I must remember to tell Lynne that her taste is faultless,’ he commented.
She lifted her chin. ‘If that’s all you came to say, it could certainly have waited.’
‘I don’t do waiting,’ he said. ‘I thought you’d have picked up on that by now. But I wanted to talk about something else.’ He paused. ‘Clare Dawson, who’s taken a shine to you, told me quietly that you seemed to be having a minor confrontation with Diana just now, and she was afraid you could have retired hurt.’ He shook his head. ‘I should have been with you to draw her fire.’
Marin bit her lip. ‘No need.’ She forced a smile. ‘I think I actually came off best from the encounter—this time, at least.’
He said with a touch of harshness, ‘And I fear she’s just getting into her stride. Goddamn it, I should have said no to Graham’s invitation and insisted on a weekday meeting instead.’
Marin shrugged. ‘I’ve been in worse situations.’ She thought of Greg and her skin felt suddenly clammy.
‘Then you have my sympathy.’ His mouth twisted wryly. ‘However, you don’t have to take part in Diana’s swimming fest tomorrow, if you’d rather not. I can find some way of getting you out of it.’
‘After you’ve bought me a new swimsuit?’ Marin enquired coolly. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. And I’ll try not to make a complete fool of myself.’
‘One more thing,’ he said softly. ‘Is there really a villa in Portugal?’
‘Yes, of course. I wouldn’t lie about a thing like that. Has Lynne never mentioned it?’
‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘Even—probably. Although we don’t share every facet of our lives.’
‘For which she must be eternally grateful.’ The thought translated itself into words and escaped aloud before she could stop herself.
His eyes narrowed. ‘Save your claws for when they’re needed,’ he directed coolly. ‘Don’t sharpen them on me.’ He paused. ‘I asked about Portugal only because I’m surprised you didn’t go there when the job went pear-shaped. Wouldn’t your parents have helped you?’
‘Yes,’ Marin said. ‘But I’ve always tried to remain independent. Manage alone, whatever happened.’ And if I’d even hinted about Greg’s behaviour, she thought, Derek would have gone looking for him with an axe.
‘But instead you turned to Lynne and fell into my evil clutches.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Portugal might have been the safer option, my sweet.’
‘Safer, but fraught with long-term difficulties, because they’d have wanted me to stay. Whereas in another thirty-six hours all this will be over, Mr Radley-Smith, and you and I will never have to meet again.’
She took a breath. ‘And, now that’s settled, I’m sure you’ll want to rejoin your friends downstairs.’
His brows lifted. ‘Not when you let it be known you were having an early night,’ he observed caustically. ‘That would be considered in most circles as a delicate hint to me to join you without delay.’
He added softly, ‘Believe me, sweetheart, they won’t be expecting to see either of us until we arrive exhausted but ecstatic at tomorrow’s breakfast table.’
‘Yes, that was what Mrs Halsay implied.’ Her face was burning again. ‘But I just wanted to get away. I—I wasn’t thinking when I said it.’
‘No?’ He smiled at her. ‘And I thought it was all part of some cunning plan.’
‘I don’t think I’m that devious,’ Marin said ruefully.
‘No,’ Jake said slowly. ‘I don’t think so, either.’ He walked over to her and stood looking down into her face, the blue eyes sombre as they searched hers. ‘I should never have involved you in all this,’ he said quietly. ‘I don’t often suffer from regrets, but this is one of those rare occasions.’
She was trembling inside, her voice husky as she said, ‘Well, it’s too late to turn back now.’
‘Yes,’ he said, and there was an odd almost bitter note in his voice. ‘I know it is.’ He framed her face in hands that felt as cool as water against her flushed skin and held her for a long moment. He said softly, ‘Goodnight, Marin. Sleep well.’
He let his gaze rest on her parted lips, then after an almost palpable hesitation stepped back, turning in the direction of his own room.
Motionless, she watched him go, heard the click as the door closed behind him, lifted a hand to touch the mouth she’d thought he was about to kiss. Knowing how much she’d wanted him to do precisely that.
Wondering if he’d known too—had guessed somehow—and decided to let her down lightly with his refusal.
And, if that was indeed so, trying quite desperately to feel grateful.
She spent a restless night, her sleep interspersed with fitful dreams, and woke all too early in a bed that looked as if it had been hit by a cyclone. She then had to decide whether to get up and re-make it, or simply get up. And, feeling hot, sticky and frazzled, she went for the latter option.
She trod over to the window and knelt on the seat, resting her forehead against the coolness of the glass. Everything was still, the sky a hazy blue, the sun already gathering strength.
A walk in the garden, she thought. Peace and quiet to bolster her for the day ahead, and the storm clouds hovering not far away which had nothing to do with the weather.
She showered swiftly, then dressed with equal speed in a pair of white linen cropped trousers, and a dark blue sleeveless top, keeping one eye on the communicating door as if expecting it to open at any moment. Which was ridiculous, bordering on paranoid, when it was still as firmly closed as it had been when Jake had left her the previous night.
I have to start trusting him, she thought as she brushed her hair, then paused, wondering uneasily if it could possibly be herself she didn’t trust as she remembered vague but embarrassing fragments of last night’s dreams.
But she couldn’t afford that kind of speculation. She had to think of the money, and only of the money she reminded herself as she made her way downstairs. If she concentrated on that and nothing else, in another twenty-four hours all this would be over and her life would be back under her
