Lovelink (9 page)

“Not that it's any of your business but I want to get one thing clear. I am not engaged to the man you saw me with the other evening nor to any other man.” Vicky felt her cheeks burn as she looked away, far into the distance, as if it was the most interesting sight she'd ever beheld.

“I'm pleased to hear it. He didn't look nearly good enough for you,” he whispered to her.

As they walked further on, leading Black Magic beside them, Vicky was glad to see Nuneton House getting closer and closer. She felt very uncomfortable indeed so dangerously near to Marcus. It was so intimate. She could feel his body heat, smell the special musky tang of his aftershave. And her heart was thumping so hard she wondered he didn't notice it beating beneath her thin, cotton dress. This had been the very situation she'd wanted to avoid. In a way she despised him for it. Would he have held her hand if Lucinda had been around? She didn't think so somehow.

Finally, as they neared the yard at Nuneton stables, Vicky pulled her hand away. Marcus took on a mock, pained expression and then said, “Caro's probably down by the pool already. She doesn't like the heat. I might join you in a moment.” His eyes were teasing her relentlessly.

With that she stomped off, in search of Caroline. He always had to spoil everything by ridiculing her. Playing with her. Didn't he realise the effect he had on her?

She found Caroline in the pool and soon changed into her costume in a small room just off the main pool area. Aware that Marcus might join them she looked at the pathetic scrap of material that made up her skimpy, white bikini and groaned. It hardly left anything to the imagination.

When Vicky emerged from the changing room Caroline stopped swimming to call, “Come on, Vicky. The water's lovely.”

She took a few steps back and then ran quickly forward, diving gracefully into the pool. The sensation of the cool water caused her to gasp for a second as it made contact with her skin but as soon as she was over the initial shock she was swimming beside Caroline, trying to keep up with her.

“You swim really well, Caroline,” said Vicky, as they took a rest treading water after swimming several lengths of the pool.

“Do I? I suppose I get quite a lot of practice. When I began to get well the doctor recommended swimming as the very best exercise for me to improve my strength, so Marcus had the pool house built. I must admit I've taken complete advantage of it and try to swim every day.”

“Even in winter?” Vicky asked.

“Yes, especially then,” Caroline laughed as she swam off to do some more lengths.

Vicky knew she wouldn't be able to keep up with her so she went off in the other direction, swimming steadily but by no means fast. She felt herself relax and realised she was beginning to enjoy this evening. A swim was just what she needed after a heavy, sticky day in the office and a tense meeting with Marcus. Besides Caroline really was such good company she couldn't fail to feel at ease with her.

Sometime later she saw Caroline climb out of the pool.

“Where are you going?” Vicky asked.

“To see how supper's coming along. It won't be anything elaborate I'm afraid.”

Vicky waved to her and started to swim another length. The water was making her feel fantastic after the heat of the day and she was loathe to leave it. When she heard a muted splash she assumed that Caroline had come back after checking on the supper. It was only when she felt someone circling her waist that she knew it couldn't be Caroline. Panic gripped her and she lashed out.

“Hey, hold on. I'm only playing!” said Marcus, laughing at her.

“You scared me half to death. That could have been dangerous,” she scolded him.

“I'm sorry. I thought you realised that I was in the pool.”

“No, I didn't. I thought it was Caroline.”

She was very aware that they were alone and that his mouth was only inches away from hers; that his arms were still around her waist.

“I was hoping you might need me to rescue you and then I could give you the kiss of life.” He smiled at her.

She trod water again, studying him. With his dark hair wet and sleek, it seemed to emphasise the blue of his eyes.

“That won't be necessary, thank you.”

His eyes held hers and she tried desperately to stop herself from blushing. In one swift movement he pulled her to him and kissed her.

“Don't, Marcus,” she said, pushing him away.

“What's the matter? Surely you're not still cross with me?”

What could she say? That she was angry with him for thinking that she was his own personal puppet. That he only had to pull on her strings and she would kiss him. That she knew he was trying to get rid of her in a frightening way just to be able to buy her cottage. That she was in love with him and every inch of her screamed out for him. Instead, she didn't have time to say anything as Caroline came back and told them supper was ready.

“Come on out, you two,” Caroline called, smiling.

Vicky swam towards the side of the pool but she was soon eclipsed by Marcus who was a powerful swimmer, cutting easily through the water. He hauled himself out of the pool and sat on the edge waiting for her. He dangled one long leg in the water as he pushed his hands through his wet hair, towelling it dry with his fingers. Water dripped off the thick hair that covered his chest and traced a long, dark line down his firm stomach, disappearing into the band of the briefest, blue trunks. His body was tanned, powerful and muscular.

As she climbed out of the pool he held her, helping her out of the water. She was very aware of her skimpy bikini and wished he'd gone off with Caroline. She tried to hide her embarrassment.

“There's no need to be shy with me. Remember,” he said.

She did and blushing, ran towards the changing room, glad to be away from the scrutiny of his gaze.

When she emerged once more in her pale, peach dress she was more at ease. She felt very vulnerable with Marcus, especially when all she wore was a bikini.

Caroline came to meet her and linking arms with her led her through to the dining room. Like all the rooms Vicky had so far seen at Nuneton House, the dining room was beautiful. She'd seen it before on the night of the Nuneton party but it had been crowded then and she'd not been able to view the room properly. Now she saw it was light and airy, furnished in dark mahogany. Silver candelabras decorated the wide table and there was a profusion of flowers, which she'd come to expect as one of Caroline's personal hallmarks. Laid out ready was a prawn salad, bottle of chilled, white wine and a basket of huge crusty rolls. After her swim, Vicky found that she was very hungry indeed.

“What a lovely meal, Caroline. You've gone to a lot of trouble.”

“Well, take a seat,” Marcus said, as he held out a chair for her.

She sat beside Caroline as Marcus went around the other side of the table to sit opposite her.

He poured the wine and Caroline looked up at him when he reached her glass.

“And to what do we owe this honour, dear brother? You dining at Nuneton for a change?”

He looked straight at Vicky and said, “Just entertaining the locals.”

They all laughed but Vicky knew that he meant he'd stayed because of her. She felt ridiculously happy. Until…

“Now isn't this cosy?”

They all looked up to see Lucinda Dayton standing in the doorway, looking stunning wearing a short, black dress. They'd all been laughing so much they hadn't heard her arrive.

Vicky suddenly felt a chill seep over her that had nothing to do with the icy cold wine she was drinking.

Chapter Eight

“Lucinda! What a surprise.” Marcus's tone was polite but not particularly friendly towards her, Vicky noted.

For a fleeting moment, her hopes soared, wondering if this was the first proof she longed for that he wasn't romantically interested in Lucinda. But then she realised, he was probably embarrassed. For here, in the same room, were the two women he'd been relentlessly pursuing. He obviously wouldn't want to reveal to either woman how he felt about the other, Vicky reasoned.

Lucinda walked slowly over to Marcus, her movements as sleek as a cat's and sat down beside him, her attention fixed solely on him.

“I just called on the off-chance you'd like to go over to the Campbell's. They're having a barbecue. It should be great fun. But I can see you're…busy.”

“Yes, he is.” It was Caroline who had spoken.

Vicky could see the gleam of anger shining in her eyes.

Lucinda's gaze locked into Caroline's. A red flush had coloured Lucinda's cheeks and for a second Vicky wondered if they might launch into a bitter argument. But Lucinda could obviously see the mood Caroline was in and knew there was no way she was going to win any battle with her tonight. Instead, she gave Marcus's arms a slight squeeze, smiled dazzlingly up at him and said, “Well, I'd best be off then. See me out to the car, please, Marcus.”

Vicky watched as slowly he stood up and excusing himself, walked out with Lucinda. At once, she linked her arm through his. Vicky could hear the staccato of her high heels tapping across the floor long after they were out of sight. Lucinda only had to crook her little finger and he would obey her, Vicky thought.

They seemed to have been gone ages and a host of unpleasant images chased themselves through Vicky's mind. The most abhorrent was Marcus sweeping Lucinda into his arms, apologizing for not going with her and kissing her, passionately.

Vicky had to face it. She was jealous. The man she loved was, at this very moment, with another woman. It was apparent they held a mutual attraction for each other. Vicky had to forget him. It was no good torturing herself like this.

Toying with the salad on her plate, Vicky found she'd suddenly lost her appetite.

As she glanced up, Caroline started speaking, breaking the long silence.

“I'm sorry about that. The girl may have all the right breeding but she has no manners.”

She could see Caroline was angry and her tone was cold and disapproving. This wasn't the first time she'd witnessed the animosity between them. She longed to ask Caroline why but although very curious, she didn't want to pry.

“God, I'd have thought he'd have learnt his lesson after the last time. Why can't he see what she's really like?” Caroline muttered, violently spearing a prawn with her fork.

“You…you two don't seem to hit it off?” Vicky said, tentatively.

Caroline laughed.

“Hit it off! No, I'm sorry—we don't. Lucinda Dayton is the type of woman I despise. I've watched her. She uses people, sucks them dry and then spits them out when they're no longer of any use to her. Especially any man who's dumb enough to be taken in by her beautiful face.”

“Marcus seems to like her. I hope he isn't too disappointed not to be joining her at the barbecue,” Vicky said, trying to avoid Caroline's eyes and feeling absolutely wretched.

Once more she laughed, attracting Vicky's attention.

“I doubt it,” she said, smiling ruefully.

Before Vicky had a chance to draw any further information out of her, Marcus was striding back into the room, a face like thunder. Was he really that angry at not being able to join Lucinda? And what lesson had Caroline hoped he'd learnt after the last time?

“Sorry about that, girls,” Marcus said tightly as he poured himself another glass of wine.

Vicky watched him under her lashes. There was a pulse beating angrily in his jaw and his mouth was fixed into a straight line.

Never had her heart felt so heavy. So Marcus was involved with Lucinda and Caroline didn't like her. That seemed only to prove how close he was to Lucinda. If their relationship wasn't serious, she doubted Caroline would feel so strongly about it.

Marcus lifted his wine glass and in doing so caught her looking at him. He winked at her and she smiled back.

“Well, eat up you two. Even I can't burn prawns,” Caroline said.

Vicky laughed as Marcus explained.

“My sister isn't renowned for her achievements in the kitchen. Salad is about the safest thing for her to attempt.”

It had broken the tension and slowly they began to eat the rest of the meal.

Every so often Marcus's gaze would hold Vicky's for a moment too long and she'd look away hurriedly, blushing. Why did he do it? Had he guessed how much she loved him? How jealous she was of Lucinda? Was he just playing some cruel game with her emotions?

As the conversation and laughter resumed, the pain of Lucinda's interruption dulled. The time went quickly—too quickly—and soon she realised that dusk had fallen into night and it was time for her to go home.

“I don't want to have to leave but I'd best be getting home. It's been a long day. I've a stack of paperwork to catch up with. People don't realise how much work they create for me when they fall in love.”

“What a romantic view,” Marcus said, leaning back in his chair.

The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile as a light danced in his sapphire blue eyes. One look from him and she was lost. She found the intended retort died on her lips. She'd planned to say that he was a fine one to accuse her of being cynical when he had confessed that he doubted the existence of true love. How she longed to show him. Prove to him how wonderful love could be. But instead she said nothing. There was something about Marcus tonight that was making her act out of character. Maybe knowing how much she loved him had dulled her reactions. She was so frightened of betraying her true feelings to him.

“If you have to go now I'll escort you back to the cottage.”

“Oh no, that won't be necessary,” Vicky said, dreading being alone with him.

“It's all right. Marcus doesn't mind,” Caroline said, quickly.

Once more Vicky found she couldn't argue. Not without looking foolish in front of them both. So she wished Caroline goodnight and thanked her for the evening.

“We'll go back the way you came. Across the grounds,” Marcus said, leading her through the French doors at the end of the conservatory which opened on to the patio.

She nodded.

The night air was now several degrees cooler but Vicky found it refreshing after the heat of the day.

“I can understand the appeal of sleeping outdoors on nights like these,” she said.

“What a good idea,” he said, teasing her once more.

He threw his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. She felt the familiar quickening of her heart. How could he play with her like this when he was trying his hardest to get rid of her? It was wicked. If she could be certain of her next move she might have argued with him now, told him she knew what he was up to. But she couldn't. Not until she was sure what to do.

She tried to steer the conversation on to safer ground as they reached the brook, the trees silhouetted against the dark sky like black lace.

“Have you any horses entered in races next week?”

“Yes, on Friday there's a race of local interest at Brighton. The business association in Churchton has sponsored it. Misty Lady will be running.”

“What are her chances?” she asked, feeling the heat of his arm on the back of her neck as they crossed the narrow bridge over the stream.

“Pretty good. Why don't you come with me and see for yourself?” he said, curling a lock of her hair around his finger.

How she longed to fall into his arms, kiss him, tell him how much she loved him. Instead she shook her head and said, “Oh no, I'm sorry.”

They were nearing the stone wall that marked the end of the Nuneton estate and the beginning of her back garden.

“It'll be fun. Surely you can take a day off, being the boss lady.”

“I'm sorry, Marcus. I can't. I…won't be here.”

He looked puzzled.

“I'm going away for the weekend,” she explained.

He lifted his arm from her shoulder.

“Anyone I know,” he asked.

She could hear the bitterness in his voice.

At once, she felt a flash of anger. He didn't own her. What right did he have to question what she did with her free time? How hypocritical could he be? Hadn't she just witnessed how close he was to Lucinda?

“No it isn't. Not that it's any of your business. Let's just say it's someone I can't disappoint.”

He was angry and it would be so easy for her to elaborate, tell him and allay his suspicions but she wouldn't. She had more pride than that. His eyes held hers for a long moment. A pulse twitched in his jaw. If she didn't know better, she'd swear he was jealous.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. It's a shame you can't come to the races. I could have promised you a fantastic day. Well, have a good weekend. Goodnight, Vicky.”

With that he pulled her to him, bending his head to kiss her lips lightly, tangling his fingers in her hair. She willed herself not to react, drawing on all her determination not to return his kiss. Finally, he pulled away.

“I don't remember you being so cold before, Miss Lewis.”

“Maybe you're confusing me with someone else,” she said, bitterly.

As she watched him walk through the gate, he called back over his shoulder. “By the way, I meant to tell you. I've changed my mind. I do believe in love. Now.”

His words stung her as if he'd struck her. She felt a crushing weight on her chest. He was in love and that could be with only one person. Lucinda Dayton.

As she turned to walk towards the cottage, tears were blurring her vision. Then she heard a rustling sound and watched unbelievingly as a man darted out of the shadows.

Vicky let out a piercing scream.

For a second, he stopped dead in his tracks and then ran around the side of the cottage, towards the main road. It was too dark for her to be able to identify him.

“Vicky! Are you all right? What's the matter?” It was Marcus.

“A…a man. He ran round the house, there.” She managed to gabble out, as she stood there rooted to the spot, trembling.

Marcus gave chase but Vicky knew he'd got nowhere when she heard a car engine start up, followed by fierce revving and then tyres squealing as the man made his getaway. Vicky ran after Marcus in the direction he'd just taken.

She found him near the side of the cottage kneeling by a pile of something, wiping at the side of his mouth.

“Marcus! You're bleeding.”

He looked at the smear of blood on the back of his hand and nodded. Then he said, “He hit me when I collared him.”

“Did you recognise him? Get a good look at him?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Well, no…not really. What the hell's been going on, Vicky?” He looked furious.

“I…I don't know.”

With that he stood up, walked over to her and grabbed her arm roughly. He marched her over to the pile he'd been studying.

“I want some answers this time. Look at this.” He pulled her forcibly down to kneeling level. “It's kindling. And, sniff.”

He picked up a twig and held it under her nose.

“Urghh. Paraffin.”

“Yes, that's right. Your intruder wanted to bring Guy Fawkes Night a bit closer. Answers Vicky. I'm not going until I know the whole story. I won't be fobbed off so easily this time. Not like I was with the wreath.”

She didn't know whether it was the terrifying ordeal of finding an intruder on her land or Marcus's last words but Vicky saw red.

“That's rich coming from you. You know very well all about the wreath.” Her eyes were blazing with anger as she stared unblinkingly into his.

He still had hold of her arm and the pressure of his fingers digging into the skin, began to hurt. She tried to pull her arm free from his hold.

“What on earth do you mean?” he asked.

“You know all about the wreath because you were the one who ordered it. I've found out that much about your dirty tricks campaign,” Vicky shouted.

She hadn't known what she expected him to do, whether it was to be cross with her, deny it all, admit it. But what she hadn't been prepared for was for him to gently let go of her arm, push his hands through his dark hair and say quietly, “Can you really believe that of me?”

“Marcus, I went to the florist and they as good as told me it as you who ordered the black wreath.” Her voice had lost some of its anger.

She was now just resigned to hearing a confession finally from his own lips of all that she had suspected.

“Did they actually say it was me? Name me?”

Slowly, she shook her head.

“Well, no…they didn't. But they said it was a…dark haired man.”

Marcus smiled and then grimaced. His lip was still bleeding.

“Come on, inside. I'll see to that cut on your lip,” Vicky said, pleased for an excuse to be able to think this through.

Her mind was racing. The florist
hadn't
actually said it was Marcus. It sounded ridiculous even to her own ears that her one major piece of proof was now found to be so flimsy.

Once they were in the kitchen, Vicky took time searching for the first aid kit to treat his cut lip. She wanted to delay the moment when he would once again demand an explanation from her. This time she knew she wouldn't be able to defer it any longer.

She moved nearer to him, placing a bowl of warm water on the kitchen table in front of him when suddenly Marcus grabbed her hands and said, “Vicky, please believe me when I tell you I've had absolutely nothing to do with any of this.”

Tears pricked at her eyes. Who could she trust? Was he telling her the truth? He seemed sincere but could she rely on her own judgment? It had let her down so badly in the past.