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‘I believe I was wrong. Lov… knowing you as I do, once the shock wore off, I knew there had to be another explanation.’ She searched for the right words, because she had to be honest. ‘I can’t live with fear, through fear, any longer. This was the last piece I needed in the puzzle of Charles. I realised it wasn’t my fault he was like that, it was him, his nature. And I knew that you would never hurt me, or anyone else. That you could never be cruel.’
Marcus stood and walked slowly to the foot of the bed, his eyes fixed on her face. ‘You have been very discreet about Charles, very loyal, but I knew he had hurt you very badly, had frightened you to the point where I feared you could never love me.’
Marissa caught her breath. Does it matter, then, that I love him?
Marcus smiled at her and carried on speaking gently. ‘I had heard something of my late cousin’s tastes, but only recently. I decided to seek out the truth for myself.’
‘But why? Why does it matter to you? He is dead.’
‘But his shadow still lies over you and I love you. I want you to be free.’
‘You love me?’ Marissa breathed, afraid to believe her own ears.
Marcus came and sat beside her, gathered her hands in his, a rueful smile on his lips. ‘It has taken me a long time to say it, but I think I must have loved you from the moment I saw you. For a long time I believed you were grieving for Charles, that you could never love anyone else, especially someone who reminded you so painfully of what you had lost.’
‘Lost? I lost only fear and cruelty. You taught me that not all men are like that, that I could love, and trust a man not to hurt me. Trust you. I am sorry that my instinct was to run, not to ask you for the truth.’
She found herself gathered in Marcus’s arms, held so tightly against his chest she could hardly breathe. ‘You have to learn to trust again, I understand,’ he said, before he covered her face in kisses.
When she emerged, breathless, she saw he was searching her face, a touch of doubt in his eyes. ‘You do love me, Marissa? The bastard hasn’t killed that for you, has he?’
‘Yes, I do love you. I knew I loved you when you went back to Jamaica and I ached for you, lived for your letters to Nicci.’
‘Then why would you not marry me?’ His hands were straying down her shoulders, stroking through the lace, tangling as his fingers sought the ribbons tying her peignoir.
‘I didn’t think I could ever be a true wife to you, that Charles had so affected me that I could never give you everything. And I believed that you would turn to Diane for comfort. I could not bear to share you.’
‘Diane? It has been all over between us for a long time, way before I left Jamaica to come to London. She is a true friend to me, that is all.’
His fingers had found their way beneath the fine cotton lawn and were stroking the swell of her breasts. It made it difficult to think, to speak, to do anything except give in. ‘But, Marcus, I do not know if I can,’ she confessed. ‘I do not know if I will ever be able to love you as I want to.’
To her shock he stopped caressing her and sat back, watching her with smiling eyes. ‘Then now is the time to find out. Make love to me, Marissa. You take control, you do what you want and only what you want.’ He shrugged off his shirt and breeches as he spoke.
Marissa struggled to find her voice. ‘But I don't know… I mean, I’ve never… Marcus, what do you want me to do?’
Marcus threw himself on the bed beside her and with a deft twist of his arm caught her up, stripped off the peignoir and nightdress and threw them across the room. ‘Right.’ He lay back against the pillows, pulling her against his aroused body. ‘Now, Marissa, you are in charge.’
She sat up, stared at him. Something in the quality of the light – or was it his obvious delight and love for her? – made him look only like Marcus, not in the slightest like his cousin. Marissa took his face in his hands and kissed him, exploring the taste of him with her tongue.
Marcus stayed quite still as she nibbled his earlobe then he gasped as her lips moved down the hard planes of his chest, teasing his nipple before, daringly, exploring further. His skin was satiny, hot with his desire for her, yet she could sense his restraint as he let her set the pace.
Impatient with his patience, she twisted round. pulling his glorious weight on top of her, opening her body to him. ‘Marcus,’ she managed to say, ‘I cannot wait any longer. Make love to me, please.’
And he did, gently at first, but he too was beyond restraint, swept along with the passion of her surrender, giving to her as much as he took.
It seemed hours before they stirred, then Marissa opened her eyes to find him looking into hers with such love that she was almost unable to say, ‘Is that how it is meant to be?’
‘I have no idea.’ Marcus’s voice shook. ‘I have never experienced anything like it. But I suggest we spend the rest of our lives finding out.’
Half an hour later Marissa heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor and looked up into Marcus’s eyes. ‘Early morning tea,’ she whispered.
‘The door’s locked. Do you want me to open it?’
‘No. Not for at least a week.’
‘That, my love, is quite definitely the right answer.’ And he began to make love to her all over again.
The End
