cannoning into Diana Halsay, who was standing right behind her.
‘Well, well,’ Diana said softly. ‘You look very pleased with yourself this morning. Has Jake taken pity on you at last?’ Her eyes swept Marin from head to foot in a piercing assessment. ‘Why, I do believe that he has.’ She laughed. ‘Not just belle-laide any more, but well and truly laid, if I’m any judge.’
Marin said, ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Only to be totally betrayed by the bright wave of colour that was sweeping from her toes up to the roots of her hair, making her burn with humiliation under the other’s all-knowing gaze.
‘I suppose it was inevitable,’ Diana went on, musing. ‘Even though it may not have been what he intended originally.
‘You see, I was never fooled by that “here’s my new girlfriend” routine. Graham may think it’s love, that Jake’s met his fate at last, but we three know that isn’t true—don’t we? That it’s all just a clever trick to get the sexy Mr Radley-Smith off the hook—the ultimate PR spin.’
She shrugged. ‘I suppose you hinted to Jake that I didn’t believe it. Making him realise he might need to take—stronger measures to make his little deception really plausible.
‘And you weren’t exactly unwilling, were you, my dear? Or subtle about what you wanted. In fact, everyone noticed how you’ve been trailing after him all weekend with your tongue hanging out. As Sylvia said, like a starving kid outside a baker’s window. And Jake, like a perfect gentleman, has duly obliged, thus killing two birds with one stone. So in one way you owe me a vote of thanks, or he might never have bothered.’
There was sudden nausea, hot and bitter, in Marin’s throat. She swallowed. ‘How—how dare you talk to me like this? I refuse to listen to any more.’
‘How very disappointing,’ Diana said brightly. ‘When at last we have something in common to discuss.’ She paused, a little smile curling her mouth. ‘He’s good, isn’t he?’ She lowered her voice intimately, sister to sister, talking about a pleasure shared. ‘Knows all the right buttons to press, as it were. I’m sure he rewarded you very generously for being such a good girl.’
She gave a little gurgle of laughter. ‘However, I presume he wasn’t in one of his more adventurous moods, or you probably wouldn’t be able to walk this morning.’
Marin was shaking, but she managed to lift her chin. ‘You’re crude,’ she said with quiet clarity. ‘Crude and unbelievably vile.’
‘And you, Miss Wade, are a fool,’ Diana retorted, shrugging. ‘Oh, I expect you’ll be enough of a novelty to become the flavour of the month for a little while.’ She shrugged. ‘After all, I’m sure he’s grateful if nothing else. But he also gets bored very easily—and very quickly. He’ll soon have exhausted all your limited possibilities.
‘And he certainly doesn’t do happy-ever-after, in case you were hoping.’
‘I wasn’t.’ Marin’s voice was ice, chipped from the shivering emptiness inside her. ‘But thanks for your concern, if that’s what it is. Goodbye, Mrs Halsay.’
She walked past Diana into the house, heading blindly across the drawing room and out into the hall to the downstairs cloakroom, her heart beating like a wild creature chased by hunters.
She shot the small, brass bolt on the door, then walked across to the tiled vanity unit with its scented soaps, hand lotions and pile of small, fluffy towels. Leaning over the shell-shaped basin, she retched drily and weakly.
As the feeling of nausea began to pass and she felt marginally calmer, she straightened, turning on the cold tap and letting the water run over the pulses in her wrists. She caught her reflection in the large gilt-edged mirror right in front of her.
Found herself looking at—understanding—what Diana Halsay had seen: all the signs of self-betrayal. The shadowed, dreaming eyes emphasised by the smudges of sleeplessness beneath them; the sensuous, luminous pallor of her skin and the soft mouth, blurred and swollen with kissing.
Well and truly laid. Diana’s words ate into her brain like acid. Corrosive, destructive.
Has Jake taken pity on you at last? Like a starving kid outside a baker’s window.
Comments that made her feel as if the skin had been flayed from her body. Because she could not deny that they held a basic truth.
I thought I’d been so clever, she thought, pretending to pretend, hiding what I was truly feeling. But I was only fooling myself. And all the time people have been laughing at me.
She poured water into her cupped hands, splashing it on to her face as if she could wash away the evidence of last night. Of her appalling weakness. Her stupidity. That, she thought, above all.
And now she had to go back and face them, the occupants of this small, malicious world, and the man who’d brought her here. Subjected her to this. The man she now had to rely on to take her out of it and back to where she really belonged, she reminded herself bitterly.
And quelled the sob rising in her throat.
The dining room was mercifully empty. There was coffee on a hotplate on the sideboard and she poured some into a cup, swallowing it in great, painful gulps, trying to dispel the chill inside her.
She did not turn as she heard someone enter the room, but she knew instantly who it was, and her body tensed painfully.
Jake’s arms slid round her waist, drawing her back against him as he nuzzled her neck. ‘Where did you go?’
By some supreme effort, her voice sounded almost normal. ‘I—I couldn’t sleep.’
‘You should have woken me.’ He smiled against her skin. ‘I know the perfect cure for insomnia.’
‘Anyway, it was morning.’ She remembered lying in his arms, watching night turn into day, her body glowing with joy and fulfilment. Making her forget that people spoke about ‘the cold light of dawn’. Meaning a time when reason and commonsense kicked in. Even a time for an agony of shame and bitter regret.
‘You speak as if that makes a difference,’ he said softly. ‘All evidence to the contrary.’
The words twisted inside her like a knife. She released herself. ‘How—how soon can we leave here, please?’
‘It’s usual to stay for lunch,’ he said after a pause. ‘But we can go earlier, if that’s what you want.’
‘Yes.’ Her voice shook a little. ‘I—really want to. I—I’ve had enough.’
‘Which makes two of us, believe me.’
Believe me. Oh God, how could he say that? she wondered, unable to look at him as he stood beside her, casually helping himself to coffee.
‘You go and pack our things,’ he went on. ‘While I have a final brief word with Graham, and then we can be off.’
Marin was standing by her bedroom window, gazing sightlessly at the garden, some fifteen minutes later when she heard him go into his room. A moment later, he appeared in the doorway.
‘You
