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‘Aha—now you sound like a wife,’ Marcus told her. ‘Are you hungry? Would you like to eat now, or later? The hotel provides an unpacking and pressing service…’
‘I’d like a shower. But more than anything else I’d love—’
‘Some coffee,’ Marcus finished for her. ‘I’ll order it for you, shall I? And perhaps we can have an exploratory walk whilst they unpack for us?’
‘Mmm. Oh, Marcus, come and look at this,’ Lucy exclaimed. ‘It’s a pillow menu. You can choose your own pillow.’
Ten minutes later they were walking hand in hand through the Great Room of the hotel. Built around an old coral warehouse and a sugar mill, the hotel had been refurbished recently to a wonderful standard of luxury.
Their own master suite in the main hotel was furnished in the style of the eighteenth century, the bed hung with voile, the furniture elegantly styled and painted a soft, rubbed off-white. A large freestanding double-ended hip-shaped bath and a private plunge pool added to the romantic luxury, and as they explored the gardens and stopped to admire the beach that lay beyond Lucy could well understand why this luxurious hotel was so very prestigious, and so loved by its guests. By the time they returned to their suite, via the privacy of the night-cloaked gardens and several impromptu stops to exchange kisses, their cases had been unpacked for them.
‘Perhaps just a Room Service meal tonight?’ Lucy suggested, stifling a small yawn.
‘Good idea,’ Marcus agreed.
‘Oh, Marcus, this is brilliant…’ Lucy sighed happily as she leaned back against him in their plunge pool, her body between his spread legs, her head pressed against his chest, with his arms wrapped around her and his hands cupping her naked breasts.
‘Mmm, absolutely,’ he agreed, nuzzling the sensitive spot just below her ear and making her shudder so hard that the water shuddered with her.
‘You don’t think anyone can see us, do you?’ she whispered to him several seconds later, as they lay naked together in the water and Marcus teased her eagerly expectant body with all the touches he knew it loved.
‘No…but we can go inside, if you want.’
‘No, I like it here,’ Lucy told him. ‘There’s something so nice about lying naked in the water and the sun.’
‘Mmm, something very nice,’ Marcus agreed, as he took advantage of her nudity to enjoy unlimited access to her body whilst encouraging her to do the same with his.
She had woken up this morning to Marcus stroking teasing fingers against her breast whilst feathering kisses on her closed eyelids, and they had gone from there on a slow journey of foreplay that had ended up with her abandoning herself willingly and completely to his thrusting possession. Now, scarcely a couple of hours later, her desire for him was already an urgent clamouring force.
Sliding away from him, Lucy slowly stroked her hand down over his body to embrace his erection.
Marcus watched whilst she focused on his pleasure, wondering if she knew just how much of it was attributable not to what she was doing but to the look of erotic delight in her eyes as she did so. Even her own body was registering its pleasure in what she was doing, her nipples tightening and her breasts lifting slightly. Beneath the water he could see how the lips of her sex were swelling and flushing.
‘Marcus, we can’t—not here,’ Lucy protested as he reached for her, but it was too late, and as Marcus positioned her over the erection she had just been caressing she straddled him and sank slowly onto it, luxuriating in the erotic intensity of taking him into her, centimetre by centimetre, her slick muscles and flesh gripping and caressing him. He groaned fiercely and reached for her hips, pulling her down hard against him whilst he thrust into her, over and over again, then lifted his hand to place it over her mouth when she screamed out in wild ecstasy before sinking down on top of him in quivering release.
‘I can’t believe we’re on our way home,’ Lucy sighed, as they left the small plane which had brought them from Mustique.
‘We’ve got a few hours yet before we pick up our connecting flight for London. Is there anything you want to do?’
Lucy shook her head. ‘I’ll go and get myself some magazines and a book.’
‘I’ve got couple of calls to make, so I’ll go and order you some coffee, shall I?’ Marcus offered.
‘Mmm—please.’ Lucy thanked him.
Lucy was standing in the queue waiting to pay for her purchases when she saw him. The blood drained out of her face and she whispered, horrified, ‘Nick!’
And, even though she knew he could not possibly have heard her, he turned his head and looked straight at her, abandoning the woman he was with to come over to her.
Immediately she shrank back from him, not wanting him anywhere near her.
‘Well, well—if it isn’t my ex-wife. Here on your own, are you?’ he taunted her.
‘No, actually, I’m with Marcus,’ Lucy told him coldly. She badly wanted to ignore him, but he was standing right next to her now, and unless she abandoned the books she was holding and walked away she would have to stay where she was in the queue.
‘Carring?’
She could see that Nick wasn’t at all pleased—that in fact he looked distinctly put out.
‘Yes, Marcus,’ Lucy repeated. ‘He and I are married now.’ She couldn’t resist the small happy boast.
‘He married you?’ Nick demanded sharply. ‘How on earth did you persuade him to do that? Pregnant, are you? I thought he’d dump you the moment he saw the little wedding present Andrew and I sent him. Perhaps he has his own reasons for going ahead, does he? But if he thinks he’ll force Andrew into paying more for Prêt a Party, then—’
‘You sent those photographs?’ Lucy cut him off, white-faced.
‘Mmm…good, weren’t they?’ he mocked her. ‘Especially that one of you smiling like you were really having a good time.’
She mustn’t let him see how shocked and upset she was, Lucy decided frantically. Nor must she let him guess how frightened it made her feel to know that he was working with Andrew Walker, and that the two of them had tried to destroy her marriage before it had even begun.
She felt as though she was being subjected to a sensation not unlike the centre of gravity beneath her feet physically shifting, as though there had been a minor earth tremor. It scared her sick to recognise how far Andrew Walker was prepared to go to get Prêt a Party.
‘You really should have accepted Andrew’s offer, Lucy,’ Nick was telling her. ‘He isn’t at all pleased with you, you know. He wants Prêt a Party, and believe me he will get it—one way or another.’
Several equally horrible suspicions were thrusting into her awareness like ice picks.
‘How do you know Andrew Walker?’ she demanded.
‘What’s that got to do with you? Let’s just say that I do
know him, and that I recommended to him that he look into investing in Prêt a Party,’ Nick boasted. ‘It’s perfect for his needs.’
‘Those needs being laundering money stolen from refugees who live in fear of him, you mean?’ Lucy challenged Nick furiously.
‘My, my—we have been nosey, haven’t we? Be careful that nose of yours doesn’t get chopped off for being stuck into places it has no right to be, Lucy. And think about this: you had already agreed verbally to a partnership with Andrew, so you are just as involved in what goes on as the rest of us.’
‘No. We only discussed a partnership—and then I didn’t know the truth.’
‘But can you prove that?’ Nick taunted her. ‘I’m sure Andrew would be able to prove that you did if he felt he needed to. He means to have Prêt a Party, Lucy, and he wants it without Carring being involved in it. Andrew will get what he wants. He always does.’
She was beginning to feel sick again, and she knew she couldn’t bear another minute of Nick’s company. He made her feel so vulnerable and afraid. But she must not let him, she told herself.
Where was Lucy? Marcus left the coffee shop and went to look for her.
It was easy for him to pick her out from amongst the other travellers—and easy, too, for him to recognise the man standing so close to her, obviously engaged in a very intimate conversation with her.
Nick Blayne. What the hell…?
He could feel the anger sheeting though him. Lucy was his now. Marcus started to move towards them, but at that moment Lucy put down the books she was holding and started to walk away from Nick, heading for the coffee shop. When Marcus looked away from her, to where Nick Blayne had been, the other man had disappeared.
He caught up with Lucy just as she reached the coffee shop. She looked shocked and very distressed.
‘What’s happened?’ he demanded tersely. So tersely that Lucy almost shrank from him. ‘You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.’
