there a problem?’ Desmond Hayes enquired as he approached them, having obviously already seen that there was and moved smoothly away from the group he had been conversing with.
‘Nothing I can’t handle,’ Marcus assured him tightly. ‘I suggest that in future—’ he turned back to Mike Reynolds ‘—you save your less than obvious charms for someone who is more interested in them than Kit appears to be!’
‘And if I don’t?’ the other man challenged.
‘That’s up to you, of course.’ Marcus shrugged. ‘But I should warn you that I have no intention of letting you upset Kit.’
Kit could have wept at the scene that was unfolding in front of her eyes, couldn’t believe this was happening.
‘I believe that at the moment both you gentlemen are upsetting Kit,’ Desmond intervened, at the same time putting a protective hand on her shoulder. ‘I suggest we leave the two of you to sort this out in private.’
‘That’s fine by me,’ Marcus snapped, his icy gaze not leaving Mike’s angrily flushed face.
‘And me,’ Mike concurred, looking at Marcus with intense dislike. ‘If anything, you’re even more arrogant than your girlfriend,’ he told Marcus.
Kit gasped. ‘I told you, I’m not—’
‘Leave them to it, my dear,’ Desmond advised, turning her away from the other two men and back into the throng of the party. ‘Don’t you know better than to try to come between two males fighting over territory?’ he chided, reaching out to take a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and hand it to her. ‘Drink some of that,’ he encouraged. ‘It will make you feel better.’
Kit didn’t feel anything was going to succeed in doing that as she saw Marcus and Mike leave the house by the French doors. Doors that very firmly closed behind them!
‘They’ll be fine,’ Desmond assured her laughingly. ‘I believe Marcus was a champion boxer when he was at Cambridge. Unless, of course, it’s Mike Reynolds you’re worried about?’ He raised amused brows as the idea suddenly occurred to him.
‘Not in the least,’ Kit told him firmly, sipping her champagne agitatedly. ‘Tell me, does hitting another man actually ever solve anything?’
‘Not usually, no,’ Desmond confirmed. ‘But it makes you feel a hell of a lot better!’ he said with relish.
Kit laughed too. It was impossible not to, this man’s expression was so full of boyish mischief. In fact, it was easy to see, when he was amusingly charming like this, exactly why Desmond had been married three times.
‘All the things you’ve heard about me are true,’ Desmond said, those shrewd blue eyes seeming to read her thoughts exactly. ‘Except one of them,’ he added softly, suddenly serious. ‘I don’t intend letting my third wife divorce me. She’s the love of my life,’ he told Kit quietly as she looked at him enquiringly.
It was too much on top of everything else that had happened to her this evening; Kit’s eyes filled with sudden tears at the utter desolation she detected in the gentleness of his voice.
‘It does happen, you know,’ Desmond told her candidly. ‘The so-called biggest of womanizers, when they find the right woman, will never look at another one.’
‘I’m sorry.’ She bowed her head, searching through her small evening bag for the tissue she had placed in there earlier. ‘I know I’m being silly. It’s just—’
‘You’re falling in love with Marcus,’ he said knowingly.
Kit raised her head to look around them worriedly, concerned that someone might hear their conversation, reassured when she saw that no one was listening. She turned back to Desmond. ‘Of course I’m not falling in love with Marcus—’
‘Of course you aren’t,’ Desmond echoed her words teasingly. ‘In the same way I’m not still in love with my wife.’
Kit gave a rueful smile. ‘No, I really mean it—’
‘So do I,’ Desmond encouraged sympathetically. ‘Ah, the victor returns,’ he said with satisfaction after a glance over her shoulder. ‘No doubt battle-scarred but victorious!’
Kit was almost afraid to turn round and see which one of the two men had just re-entered the house, Marcus or Mike. Not that she thought for a moment that it wouldn’t be Marcus; there was just no comfort in it, knowing how furious he was with her.
She sighed, the tingling sensation she felt down her spine telling her that it was indeed Marcus who had just re-entered the house. And that he was making his way across the room to where they stood talking. ‘I shall have to leave, of course—’
‘You most certainly will not,’ Desmond told her firmly, his hand once again clasping her shoulder. ‘You’re the only thing that’s making this whole weekend bearable!’
‘How touching,’ drawled that all-too-familiar voice. ‘Really, Kit,’ Marcus said with hard derision as he moved to stand beside her, his shrewd gaze having taken in Desmond’s proprietary hold on her, ‘you’re turning into quite the femme fatale!’
‘She is a femme fatale,’ Desmond told him happily. ‘Beautiful. With a delightful sense of humour. Sensuous. Deliciously—calm down, Marcus,’ he ordered as the younger man made an impatient movement. ‘You can’t go around fighting every man Kit so much as talks to, you know.’
Poor Desmond had this all so wrong, it would have been laughable if it weren’t so tragic. She was falling in love with Marcus. But he certainly didn’t feel the same way about her, despite his defence of her just now. And she very much doubted that he appreciated the suggestion that he did!
‘Ah, to add to the intrigue, the lovely Andrea returns,’ Desmond observed speculatively as Andrea Revel came back into the room.
The beautiful, sensuous, delicious Andrea Revel, Kit acknowledged heavily, knowing that the other woman really was everything that she wasn’t herself. Andrea also looked stunningly attractive this evening in a bright red silk sheath of a dress that clung to her voluptuous curves. A fact she was obviously completely aware of as she strolled across the room to rejoin Derek Boyes.
Frankly, Kit had had enough of all of them for one evening!
‘I’m afraid I have a headache.’ She spoke to Desmond Hayes, deliberately keeping her gaze averted from the broodingly silent Marcus, one quick glance having shown her that, despite what Desmond had said, he showed no visible battle scars. But the fact that Mike Reynolds hadn’t reappeared seemed to say that Desmond was right about which man had been the victor. ‘If you will excuse me?’ she added for politeness’ sake only, not waiting for a response from either man before she turned and hurriedly left the room, looking to neither left nor right as she did so. She certainly didn’t want to see Catherine Grainger again before she went to bed!
What a disaster of a weekend this was turning out to be! There wasn’t a single person here that she wanted to be with. Although Desmond Hayes had been something of a surprise these last few minutes, not at all what she had expected. Surprisingly, she actually found herself liking him. He—
‘Oh, no, you don’t!’ Marcus
