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 didn’t pack for me?’
She turned defensively. ‘I didn’t know you wanted me to.’ It was a lie. She couldn’t bear the implied intimacy of handling his clothing, touching things he’d worn recently. Behaving as if they were a couple.
He shrugged, sending her a faintly puzzled look. ‘It would have saved time, that’s all. But it doesn’t really matter.’
He paused. ‘I’ve already said our farewells. Our hostess has swept her female guests off to the tennis court, and Graham and the guys are planning to play poker.’
He smiled at her. ‘I’ll throw my things together then, with one bound, we can be free.’
The garden blurred suddenly, but her voice was steady. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘We can.’ And felt her heart break.
THE VILLAGE WAS several miles behind them. That part of her ordeal was over, but now she had to deal with its aftermath.
In spite of herself, she found she was glancing sideways at his hands on the wheel of the car as they steered it, controlled it, with effortless expertise.
Just as he’d done with her last night. His hands on her body touching, arousing, with the same precision. Taking her exactly where he wanted her to go.
And, God help her, she’d wanted it too. Had wanted all of it and more. Had wanted the glory of him with her, inside her, as they reached paradise together. Had prayed for it never to stop.
Only to find all that pain, hunger and rapture belittled—reduced to words like pity, reward and gratitude. The passion she’d imagined replaced by a sense of obligation.
He’d performed, she thought. He’d given her pleasure, because she’d made it so shamefully clear that was what she required. Why she’d thrown herself at him, as she had.
He knew how to arouse—to fulfil, but that did not mean that he had to be emotionally engaged. Inexperienced as she was, she’d been aware of his restraint. Maybe he’d simply known how little effort on his part would be needed to bring her to climax. Turn her into his willing creature.
Worst of all, she’d ignored the fact that he’d tried to step back from her.
Suddenly she remembered Greg, standing in the flat in France. ‘She’s no bloody oil-painting,’ he’d said, the words dripping with contempt. ‘Who the hell would want to start anything with such a pathetic little object?’
Oh God, she whispered under her breath. How can it be possible to hurt so much? To feel so ashamed?
‘Well, that’s that, thank God.’ She started as Jake’s voice intruded on her unhappy reverie. ‘Would you mind if we made a slight detour?’
She swallowed. ‘Why should we do that?’
‘There’s somewhere we could have lunch,’ he said. There was a smile in his voice. ‘It’s not too far out of our way, and you might like it.’
‘Thank you.’ Her voice was polite but definite. ‘But I’d rather go straight back to London. If you don’t mind.’
She couldn’t bear, she thought, to spend any more time with him than was strictly necessary. And once this journey was over she would never see him again.
‘Well, just as you want,’ he said after a pause. ‘The other will keep, and maybe London is the best option at this point. How about I drop you at the flat to pack the rest of your stuff and collect you in an hour or so?’
‘Collect me?’ Marin repeated. Her head turned sharply towards him. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I live in Chelsea, darling,’ he said. ‘You don’t imagine I’d suggest you get there by public transport?’
‘I know where you live,’ she said. ‘How does it concern me?’
There was a silence, then Jake said quietly, ‘I’d imagined it would concern you very closely.’ He slowed the car, driving on to the broad grass verge, then braked and switched the engine off. He unfastened his seat belt and turned, frowning slightly as the blue eyes searched her face.
He said, ‘You see, I thought—I hoped—that you’d be moving in with me.’ He smiled faintly. ‘After all, I can hardly come and live with you. Lynne would have a heart attack if she had to fight me for the shower each morning. Or if she found us in the bath together.’
The flavour of the month for a little while…
Pain twisted inside her as she recalled those other mocking words, which had told her nothing but the truth.
Instead, she moved suddenly, restively. ‘You think I’m coming to live with you because of what happened last night?’ She shook her head. ‘That’s—over and done with. And now I have my own life to go back to. So I have no intention of sharing anyone else’s, even on a temporary basis. I never did.’
His gaze sharpened. Became incredulous. ‘What the hell are you talking about.’
‘About the parting of the ways.’ She made herself look at him, coolly and calmly. ‘We had a deal, but today it ends. And nothing takes its place.’
There was a silence, then he said quietly, ‘Darling, you don’t—you can’t mean that.’ He unclipped her seat belt and reached for her.
She recoiled and said hoarsely, ‘Don’t touch me. Just—don’t…’
‘Oh,