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Marcus loved Suzi. Suzi herself had told her so. Marcus loved Suzi!
CHAPTER EIGHT
MARCUS winced, his tense muscles protesting as he bent down to pick up the case he had put on the floor before letting himself into his suite.
The negotiations in China had taken longer than he had expected and, coupled with a long flight, he had been left feeling stressed and tense.
Come on, he derided himself as he pushed the door to his suite closed and put down his case. Who was he kidding? The real reason he was feeling so uptight had nothing whatsoever to do with the negotiations in China. In truth, the source was far, far closer to home.
It was past midnight, and the hotel had been in darkness when he had let himself in, but his body clock was totally haywire, thanks to his long-haul flight, and the last thing he felt able to do was sleep. There hadn’t been a day when he had been away when he hadn’t thought about Polly. There was nothing unusual in that. There hadn’t been an hour when he hadn’t thought about her, never mind a day, from the first day he had set eyes on her, but what had distinguished these particular days, these particular thoughts from previous ones had been the knowledge of the sexual intimacy they had shared before he had left.
He had always known how much he loved her, but what had surprised him had been the discovery of just how intensely sensually responsive she had been to him. It had almost been as though she had hungered for him, longed for him, loved him, with the same longing and need with which he had done for her—with the same love he had for her!
Who was he kidding? he scorned again. Polly hadn’t been thinking about him, Phil Bernstein was the man she wanted.
As he paced his suite his eye was caught by the pile of post waiting for him.
Automatically he picked it up and started to go through it, his whole body freezing when he opened and read the letter from Tim Webb. Very slowly he read it a second time and then a third.
Polly’s room was right at the end of the corridor. Marcus stormed along it, knocked furiously on the door and then opened it, demanding angrily, ‘Would you mind explaining to me what the hell all this is about?’
It was Polly’s habit on quiet evenings to have a relaxing bath, don her bathrobe and then work at her desk, using the time to deal with her paperwork without any interruption. Her first intimation of Marcus’s return—and his fury—came when he thrust open her bedroom door, and now, as he strode across the room and came to stand almost threateningly over her whilst he flung down the letter Tim Webb had drafted for her, she could feel herself starting to shake inwardly.
It just wasn’t fair that he could affect her like this; that even now, when he was furiously angry with her, she should feel so aware of him, so aroused by him, and it was even less fair that she should yearn so much for him to take her in his arms and wrap them around her, holding her tightly, whilst he told her…
What? That he loved her? Just how much of a self-deluding fool was she?
‘Well?’ Marcus demanded as he slammed the letter down on her desk in front of her.
Trying to remain as calm as she possibly could, Polly told him quietly, ‘I should have thought it was self-explanatory. It’s my letter formally requesting my release from my managership of the hotel. I’ve been offered another job and—’
‘Another job?’ Marcus exploded savagely. ‘Don’t you mean it’s another position you’ve been offered, Polly?’
‘I’m sorry—?’ she began in confusion, only to stop, her face burning with outrage and shock, as Marcus explained bitingly, ‘A position that requires you to be in Bernstein’s bed…’
Immediately Polly stood up, pushing her chair away as she turned to confront Marcus and repudiate his totally unfair and humiliating remark.
‘Don’t you dare to say such a thing,’ she cried. ‘The job Phil has offered me is that of running his new hotel in London, and it has nothing to do with…’
‘With what?’ Marcus challenged. ‘With sex? You’re lying, Polly. It has everything to do with sex. I must admit I’m surprised that he’s willing to go to such lengths to get you into his bed. I should have thought—’
‘You should have thought what?’ Polly cut across him, hot-faced. ‘Just because I made…had sex with you, Marcus, that doesn’t mean—’
Abruptly she stopped. The last thing she wanted, the last thing she felt able to cope with was this kind of confrontation with Marcus. She had known, of course, that he wouldn’t be pleased about her decision; after all, he would have to find someone else to take her place if he wanted to continue—either that or sell his share in the hotel. But surely, with him and Suzi so close to for-malising their relationship, that wasn’t going to be a problem for him?
