Roberto kissed her on both cheeks then formally welcomed her back into the family. ‘Not,’ he adjoined, ‘that we ever considered you anything else. Now what you both need is half a dozen pairs of tiny feet running about the place,’ he grinned. ‘That is the surest way of giving neither of you any time to think of falling out again!’
She felt herself go pale. The only thing stopping her from losing her balance on suddenly shaky legs was Guy’s arm fixed like a vice around her waist.
‘When we are ready, Papa, and not before,’ he threw back lightly. ‘So take that twinkle of anticipation out of your eyes for now.’
‘I’m going to the studio,’ she informed Guy tensely as soon as his father disappeared into his study.
‘Running away again?’ he mocked.
‘Where to?’ she snapped back. ‘You know as well as I do that there is nowhere left for me to run to. You’ve closed down all escape routes,’ she reminded him. ‘So even my brother isn’t mine any more.’
‘You have me,’ he said quietly. ‘Think about it, Marnie. When have you not had me to run to since the day we met?’
‘The day l lost—’ She had her lips snapped shut just in time, eyes closi
ng out the sudden anguish in her eyes. ‘Do you really mind if I go to the studio for an hour or two?’ she pleaded anxiously.
‘Why?’ he murmured a trifle cynically. ‘Will it make a difference if I say I do mind?’
‘Of course it will make a difference!’ She sighed, unable to hold back the note of frustration in her voice. ‘But…’
‘You are riddled with bridal nerves,’ he suggested, so poker-faced she could have hit him.
‘Please, Guy!’ she was driven to plead with him. If it wasn’t bad enough that he was wearing the most exquisite black suit, made of pure silk, that did the most disturbing things to his muscle-packed frame, then he had to taunt her with the lazy mockery of his liquid brown eyes, offering promises with them that turned her insides to jelly. ‘Let me go! Just while I get used to—’
‘Being married again,’ he inserted for her. And, as if tuned in to what was really bothering her, he let his own eyes run slowly over the simple cream silk suit dress she was wearing beneath its matching bolero jacket. A dress with a heart-shaped boned bodice that stayed up of its own volition and showed more than enough of her shadowed cleavage. She had taken her hair away from her face with two creamy combs, then left it to tumble in a riot of loose curls down her back. He took it all in: the dress, the cleavage, the hairstyle and the anxious face it flattered so nicely; then he let his eyes come firmly on to hers.
‘I’m sorry, Marnie,’ he said quietly. ‘But today is special, and I insist we spend it together.’
So by the time the ‘day’ grew to its inevitable conclusion Marnie was so uptight about what came next that even a long soak in a hot bath could not ease the tension from her aching body.
It took Guy to do that. With his usual devastating force.
He was standing in the shadows of the deep bay window when she eventually came out of the adjoining bathroom. The curtains had not yet been drawn, and Guy seemed engrossed in whatever he could see beyond the bedroom window. A bedroom lit by the muted glow from one small light bulb hidden beneath the pale gold shade of the bedside lamp. A bedroom they had shared before.
A bedroom they were about to share again.
Her stomach knotted, that awful tension centering itself in one vulnerable spot.
So this was it, she told herself nervously. Pay-up time.
Did she have it in her to just give herself to him as though the wedding-ring now gleaming on her finger automatically made it right?
He looked oddly remote standing there so deeply lost in his own thoughts that he wasn’t even aware of her presence. A big, lean man dressed in nothing more than his usual black silk robe. A man whose natural dark colouring seemed to reflect the mood surrounding him tonight, more so while he stood as deep in the shadows as he did.
She chewed down uncertainly on her bottom lip, not quite knowing what she should do next.
Either climb in the bed and think of England, Marnie, she mocked herself acidly, or show a little grace in defeat and go and stand beside him.
She chose the latter, but it took all the courage she had left in her to force her bare feet to walk silently across the thick wool carpet until she reached his side.
‘It—it’s a beautiful night,’ she observed, then could have bitten off her tongue for coming out with such a silly opening remark as that.
Her face muscles clenched, waiting for him to make some mockingly sarcastic remark in return. But he didn’t. Didn’t say anything for a while, and the tension in her increased, making her tremble a little, wishing herself a million miles away. Wishing she’d had the sense to run and keep on running the moment Jamie had walked into her flat with his latest problem.
‘They forecast rain for later,’ Guy answered suddenly, making her jump. Her reaction brought his hooded gaze on her. ‘You look beautiful,’ he murmured, a dry twist of a smile spoiling the compliment. ‘Quite the perfect sacrifice, in fact.’
Unexpected tears began to fill her eyes so she had to avert her face until she had blinked them firmly away, finding this role reversal from being the wronged to the wrongdoer very difficult to cope with. And his sarcasm only managed to make her feel more tense, more miserable.