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She nodded, unaware of how her mouth had drooped and the shadow in her eyes.
Wilmer stared at her for a moment, wondering what sort of cretin would let a woman like Marianne go, and then he sighed resignedly. ‘I think he’s crazy, Marianne, but then you know that,’ he said lightly. ‘And for what it’s worth there’s always a shoulder here to cry on if you need it. A friendly shoulder, nothing more, okay?’
‘Thank you.’ And she meant it.
‘And now we’ve had this little chat, can I take it you’ll be accepting a few more invitations to dinner?’ he probed determinedly, but with a grin to soften the words.
She blushed at that. She had been chary recently of going for a meal every time Mrs Polinkski had invited her, in an effort to spare Wi
lmer’s feelings.
He turned away without waiting for a reply, calling over his shoulder as he went, ‘Lunch-time, then. And you can buy the first round, considering you haven’t got me a card.’
Marianne nipped out mid-morning to the little paper shop halfway down the street and bought a cheeky card she knew would amuse him, but as Wilmer and his father had gone to visit a supplier she had to content herself with waiting until lunch-time to give it to him, whereupon he roared with laughter.
They were still smiling at they left the supermarket, Wilmer pulling her hand through his arm as they began to walk down the wet, cold street and Marianne’s face uplifted to his as he grinned down at her. And then she froze, quite literally froze, as Zeke’s voice came from a taxi purring gently at the kerb. ‘Marianne?’ It was cold, gritty. ‘Could I have a word?’
‘Zeke, what on earth are you doing here?’ He was only a couple of feet away from her in the taxi with the window wound down, but she would have walked right by if he hadn’t spoken.
That thought had obviously occurred to Zeke, too, as his icy voice reflected. ‘What do you think?’ he bit out harshly with a searing glance at Wilmer. ‘I’m here to talk to my wife.’
She felt Wilmer tighten at the side of her, and now her voice was rushed as she said, ‘I’m just going to lunch. It’s Wilmer’s birthday.’ It wasn’t the most tactful way to defuse what had become an electric moment but she was utterly out of her depth.
‘I see.’ Zeke’s eyes were almost black with dark emotion and his mouth was a thin white line.
He had clearly put two and two together and come up with a wacking great ten, Marianne thought dazedly, and she was just going to explain who Wilmer was and that they were work colleagues when she caught the words before they left her tongue.
What was she doing? she asked herself incredulously. Zeke had been entertaining little Miss America last night—she didn’t have to explain a thing to him! Talk about one rule for him and one rule for her. How dared he object to anything she did when he was seeing other women again?
‘What was it you wanted?’ she asked tightly, purposely keeping her arm linked through Wilmer’s as she met the granite gaze without the flicker of an eyelash.
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Zeke smiled a grim smile that wasn’t a smile at all. ‘It’ll keep until you’re less busy.’ The tone was insolent and insulting, and as Wilmer tightened still more Marianne pressed his arm in warning, but it was too late.
‘There’s no need for that,’ Wilmer said sharply. ‘We’re having lunch, that’s all.’
‘Sure you are.’
It was lethal and meant to provoke, and now Marianne said hastily, ‘Please, Wilmer, I’ll join you in a minute, okay? Just give me a moment or two with him.’
‘Him?’ Zeke looked ready to explode as she walked over to the taxi, but with the memory of a breathlessly sexy voice in her head Marianne found she didn’t care. There were double standards and there were double standards, but this was something else! ‘I’m not a “him”, I’m your husband,’ he said icily.
‘Well?’ Wilmer had started to walk slowly down the street as she reached the taxi’s window, and Marianne’s voice was low but cold. ‘What do you want?’
‘You phoned last night,’ Zeke grated tersely.
She certainly had! ‘I left a message with your…friend,’ Marianne said pointedly. ‘There was no need to talk further. I merely wanted to thank you for the mobile phone.’
They stared at each other for a moment and she saw he was furious, his features rigid. She waited for him to speak, and then when the silence stretched and lengthened began to turn away.
‘This is an example of the great love you have for me?’ he bit out savagely in the next second, inclining his head down the street in the direction of Wilmer’s stiff back. ‘It didn’t take you long to accept a little comfort, did it?’
‘It’s not like that.’ She glanced at him, her blue eyes sparking. ‘And who are you to talk anyway?’ she added bitterly.
‘What does that mean?’
‘What do you think it means?’ She was trying desperately to maintain her poise and keep her voice low, but she was so angry she wanted to hit him. ‘The little cheerleader you invited back to the apartment last night was there just to talk business, I suppose?’ She raised her eyebrows sarcastically, her eyes glinting.
‘The what?’ And then his eyes narrowed and his mouth compressed before he said, his voice curt, ‘Suzy is the wife of the guy I was playing squash with when I fell and broke my ankle last night. She joined us at the hospital and they insisted on seeing me home and getting me a meal before they left. She answered the phone whilst Andy was standing by in case I needed any help in the shower.’
