‘Yes,’ she said needlessly.
He gave a ragged sigh, pulling her inside the house before taking her hungrily into his arms. ‘God, Olivia!’ His mouth came down fiercely on hers, bending her body into his as she clung to him, making no secret of his desire for her. ‘Olivia, Olivia, Olivia!’ He smoothed back her tumbled curls, the last cry of her name coming out as a triumphant laugh, one of his rare smiles lighting his austere features. ‘God, you’re beautiful!’ He shook his head almost dazedly.
She moistened her lips, aware that they had a tingling sensation from the force of his kiss. ‘I am?’ She gave an uncertain smile.
‘You are.’ With his arm still about her waist he took her into the lounge, a strange uncomfortably modern room, the furniture all angles and squares, white fluffy rugs scattered about the highly polished floor, modern pictures hung on the white walls. It didn’t look like Marcus at all. ‘My wife’s choice of décor,’ he explained with feeling. ‘I just haven’t got around to changing it yet.’
‘Of course,’ she bit on her bottom lip. ‘You’re separated.’
He nodded abruptly and moved away from her. ‘In the process of getting a divorce. Which is precisely the reason Sally and I argued.’
‘Oh,’ Olivia grimaced. ‘Do you think it’s wise to argue with her about it? She needs your love and understanding, not more arguments.’
He sighed. ‘I’ve tried to be understanding, but I’m afraid it isn’t a two-way thing at the moment. Sally has the ridiculous idea that I’m going to start bringing a string of different women to the house.’ He saw her smile, his expression rueful as he thrust his hands into his trouser pockets. ‘I know—hardly my image, is it?’
‘Daddy—–’ A young girl came to a halt in the doorway, her rebellious grey eyes focusing on Olivia before she turned angrily on her father. ‘You didn’t waste any time, did you?’ she accused. ‘And to think I came down here to apologise for being silly!’
‘Sally—–’
‘Leave me alone!’ she almost spat the words at him. ‘Mummy was right, men aren’t to be trusted!’ She slammed back out of the room.
Stunned silence followed her exit before Olivia hastily gathered her thoughts together. ‘I don’t think it was such a good idea for me to come here after all. I thought if you could talk to me I might be able to help, but instead I’ve—–’
‘Been subjected to my daughter’s rudeness,’ Marcus said grimly, running a weary hand through the dark thickness of his hair. ‘It’s been like this ever since Ruth and I separated six months ago. I’m running out of solutions.’
‘I think all your daughter needs is time—and me out of the house,’ Olivia added ruefully. ‘I think you should go up and talk to her.’
‘And what are you going to do?’ He looked at her with narrowed eyes.
She shrugged. ‘I’ll go back to the nursing home and do some studying—and goodness knows I need to!’ she added lightly. ‘I don’t know how you ever remember it all.’
‘Experience,’ he derided dryly. ‘You really do want to go?’
‘I think I should,’ she answered evasively.
‘But do you want to?’ He watched her intently.
‘No,’ she admitted truthfully.
‘I was hoping that would be your answer,’ he gave another of his rare but mesmerising smiles. ‘My housekeeper usually sits with Sally if I’m out in the evening, so will you have dinner with me tomorrow evening?’ His hands grasped her upper arms strongly.
Olivia was almost hypnotised by the deep grey of his eyes. ‘Yes,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Yes, I’d like to.’
It was to be the first of many evenings they were to spend together, although on none of them was Marcus ever as intense as he had been that first evening at his home. He would be an entertaining companion, give her a chaste kiss on the cheek before they parted, usually arranging to see her again in a couple of days’ time, but never again did he kiss her with passion.
By tacit agreement they didn’t make their friendship obvious at the hospital, being completely cool to each other whenever they happened to meet there. And although several of Olivia’s friends teased her about her mysterious new boy-friend, none of them guessed she was secretly seeing Marcus Hamilton. She wasn’t sure any of them would have believed her if she had told them—she wasn’t sure she believed it herself half the time!
Sally Hamilton had point-blankly refused to meet her, and in the circumstances Olivia couldn’t exactly blame her. She wasn’t even sure herself what part she played in Marcus’s life; she only knew that for the moment he seemed to need her, her quiet presence, her gentle teasing if he should happen to become too grim. And not once did he mention his wife to her, whether through marital bitterness or just uninterest, she didn’t know.
Then one night their relationship changed drastically, Marcus telephoning her urgently to put off their meeting for that evening. ‘My mother-in-law has turned up to see Sally,’ he explained tersely. ‘I can hardly deny her, she is Sally’s grandmother.’
‘Of course,’ Olivia agreed quietly, for the first time realising the consequences of going out with a man who was still married to another woman. ‘I understand,’ she said, not understanding at all. Was Marcus ashamed of his relationship with her, was that why he was so determined no one should know about it?
There was silence at the other end of the telephone for several long minutes as Marcus sensed her confusion. ‘Come and meet Sybil,’ he invited suddenly. ‘Then you’ll see why I was so anxious for you not to do so.’
She did indeed. Sybil Carr was still a beautiful woman despite being in her mid-fifties, her figure slender, her black hair fashionable grey at the peak. She was also bitchy and condescending, treating Olivia as being no older than her granddaughter, the latter having graciously consented to sit down to dinner with Olivia, obviously enjoying her grandmother’s treatment of the woman she didn’t like and had no intention of attempting to like.
It was a strained and uncomfortable evening for Olivia, and Sybil Carr’s friendly word of warning about ‘middle-aged men trying to recapture their youth with a younger woman’ was the worst of it. The two women unexpectedly found themselves alone in the lounge when Marcus went upstairs to say goodnight to Sally, and Sybil Carr took full advantage of the opportunity this gave her to warn Olivia off him.
‘Well?’ Marcus arched dark brows questioningly as he drove her back to the nurses’ home.
‘I shouldn’t have come,’ she confirmed woodenly, still shaken by what Sybil Carr had said to her. ‘Your mother-in-law believes you will eventually go back to your wife.’ The words came out in a rush as she couldn’t hold them in any longer.
He stiffened, his expression remote. ‘I wasn’t the one to leave, she was.’
‘And if she wanted to come back?’
‘She’s never asked to.’
‘But—–’
‘I do not wish to discuss my wife, Olivia,’ he told her harshly. ‘She has no relevance to our relationship. Sybil may believe what she likes, but I don’t expect you to listen to her.’
If only she had more confidence in his feelings for her! And yet Sybil Carr had been so patronising about Marcus’s interest in her, had called it a fantasy for him, every man’s dream of having a young girl infatuated with him. She had also pointed out that Marcus needed someone with more sophistication, that he would soon tire of a child like her. Her last warning had had the most effect on Olivia, telling her that Ruth Hamilton