His Untamed Innocent (4 page)

‘At Toulouse, I got on a flight thanks to a no-show, and here I am,’ she added, trying a smile which collapsed.

Lynne said quietly, ‘Bastard! Complete and utter bastard! And let’s hope La Mason’s next book’s a stinker.’

She was equally upbeat about Marin’s future prospects over supper.

‘Up to this point you’ve had clients singing your praises. And if the worst happens you can stay on here while you’re job-hunting.’ She paused. ‘I’ll have to clear it with Rad, of course, as it’s his flat and he’s letting me camp here as a favour. However, there shouldn’t be a problem.’

Marin hastily swallowed some chicken and was about to say, ‘Actually…’

But Lynne was going on, ‘Of course, I won’t be here myself for much longer. Mike and I are starting to look for a flat to buy next week.’ Her sudden smile was rapt and tender. ‘We’re planning the wedding for next year, and you have to be bridesmaid.’

She paused, frowning a little. ‘And I shall also have to find my successor and train her up.’

‘You’re going to leave the agency?’

‘Not immediately. But a married assistant will never do for Rad. He requires total commitment, and my priority is going to be Mike.’ She cut herself another sliver of pie. ‘I know you weren’t keen a couple of years back,’ she added thoughtfully, ‘But you might consider working for Rad yourself, if push comes to shove.’

Marin drew a deep breath, telling herself that she had to break the news at some point. ‘Oddly enough,’ she said, trying to sound casual, ‘I’m doing precisely that—in a manner of speaking.’

There was a silence, then Lynne put down her knife and fork, her eyes narrowing. ‘Explain,’ she said. ‘Speaking in a manner I can understand.’

Marin considered and rejected a number of openings, and was left with the unvarnished truth.

She said baldly, ‘He’s hired me to be his girlfriend.’

She saw Lynne’s expression turn to horror and added hastily. ‘Well, pretend to be, anyway. He needed someone to take to a party. His real girlfriend couldn’t go, and you were away, so he picked me.’

‘Then he can just unpick you again,’ Lynne said grimly. ‘And I shall tell him so. When is this party?’

Marin bit her lip. ‘Last Friday.’

Lynne closed her eyes. ‘Dear God.’

‘No, it’s all right,’ Marin assured her. ‘It was business. It was fine. Nothing happened.’

Give or take a kiss, she thought uncomfortably, the memory of his arm around me and the warmth of him near me.

‘Fine?’ Lynne echoed derisively. ‘After what’s just happened in France?’ She snorted. ‘I’d say it’s out of the frying pan into a very hot fire. Oh God, I could murder Rad for this.’

‘If you really want to kill someone,’ Marin said, ‘Try a woman called Diana Halsay.’

There was a silence, then Lynne said wearily, ‘Oh, bloody hell. Just when you think it’s safe to go back in the water…’ She sighed. ‘I thought she’d finally abandoned the chase where Rad was concerned.’

‘She has, in a way.’ Marin pushed away her empty plate. ‘Now she’s trying to convince her husband that Ja…’ She swallowed. ‘That Mr Radley-Smith is chasing her instead.’

‘So that the agency loses the Torchbearer business,’ Lynne said grimly. ‘My word, she must want her revenge very badly.’ She looked at Marin. ‘And, of course, Friday was the Torchbearer reception. It’s been in the diary for weeks. I should have remembered.’

She paused. ‘But I assumed Jake would be taking Celia Forrest.’

‘She was ill.’

‘I don’t doubt it.’ Lynne pulled a face. ‘A condition brought on, no doubt, by the realisation that her application for the post of Mrs Radley-Smith, like so many others, has not been successful. She added cynically, ‘But she’ll get over it. One of his girlfriends told me that falling for Jake was rather like catching a virus—except that it was much easier to recover from once you’d got out of bed.’

Marin’s face warmed. She said, ‘I can’t imagine why any woman would want him. He’s far too fond of his own way.’

Lynne gave her an old-fashioned look. ‘Well, he managed to persuade you to go to his party,’ she commented. ‘Why didn’t you say no, and go on saying it until he got the message?’

Marin had a sudden memory of blue eyes lazily scanning her half-naked body. A voice saying, “We could always stay here together instead.”

She thought—Because the alternative would have been so very much worse.

Aloud, she said lamely, ‘He said he’d pay me. Very generously.’ She tried to smile. ‘It seemed like an offer I couldn’t refuse.’

‘As long as it was the only one.’ Lynne smiled back, but her eyes were serious. ‘And forget I suggested working for him. Once was clearly enough.’

Marin moved restively. ‘Except it won’t be,’ she said in a low voice. ‘The Halsays have invited us to their house in the country next weekend, and this time he’s paying me four times as much to go with him, to keep up the pretence.’

There was a silence, then Lynne said softly and succinctly, ‘Over my dead body.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Marin, you can’t afford to get involved with Jake, believe me. He’s out of your league, just as he was always out of mine.’

She shook her head. ‘When I first started working for him, I could have gone overboard so easily, and don’t think I wasn’t tempted, but I saw the danger just in time and pulled back. Because I didn’t want to be one more notch on his bedpost, and you mustn’t settle for that, either. You’re worth so much more.’

‘But it’s not like that,’ Marin protested. ‘The whole thing is strictly business, I promise. Separate rooms, everything. It couldn’t possibly be anything else. I mean, look at me,’ she added, Adela Mason’s strident insults echoing in her mind.

‘I’m looking,’ Lynne said flatly. ‘And I see a sweet and conspicuously innocent girl. Who should not be spending even a moment, let alone two days and nights, with a major predator like Jake Radley-Smith.

‘Separate rooms?’ She shook her head again. ‘I’d prefer you in a separate universe. Because you would not be dealing with a fumbling amateur like that idiot in France.’ She paused. ‘Sweetheart, if you’re worried about money, then stop. I’ll match whatever he’s offering, and you can pay me back as and when you can afford it.’

‘When you’re saving for a deposit on a flat and a wedding?’ Marin bit her lip. ‘Lynne, it’s lovely of you to think of it, but he—Mr Radley-Smith’s already given me five hundred pounds and promised me another two thousand after the weekend.’ She saw Lynne’s eyes widen. ‘If Mrs Ingram fires me, I shall need it. And you couldn’t possibly spare that much.’

‘No,’ her stepsister admitted ruefully. ‘Probably not.’ She sighed. ‘But I still don’t like this—any of it.’ Her eyes glinted wrathfully. ‘And I shall have a few things to say to my esteemed boss tomorrow morning.’

‘No—please.’ Marin was aghast. ‘I made the agreement with him, and I can handle it. There are—ground rules in place.’

She tried to speak more lightly. ‘And, after France, my sense of self-preservation has improved a hundred per cent. So you really don’t have to worry. Because I’m not a child any more.’

‘That,’ Lynne informed her drily, ‘is exactly the problem.’ And she got up to clear the table.

Chapter Four

M
ARIN FOUND IT
difficult to sleep that night. She told herself it was because she was dreading the coming interview with Mrs Ingram, but in her heart she knew she was restless because she hadn’t been completely honest with Lynne.

Or, for that matter, with herself.

She turned over, punching irritably at her pillow. In retrospect, she now realised she’d been silly to think that, whatever the reason for it, she could remain totally immune to Jake’s company. Especially that kiss.

I just wasn’t expecting it, she thought defensively. That’s all. Besides, I was off-balance from the moment he walked and caught me in that damned towel. And he made sure I stayed that way.

But now that she knew his potential danger, she would be more on her guard.

Besides, it was a house party, she reminded herself defensively. There would be other people around, and, for at least some of the time, Jake and Graham Halsay would be off talking business, so they wouldn’t be in each other’s pockets.

As for the hours of darkness—well, she would just have to trust that the Halsays’ housekeeper would allocate the usual rooms, giving her privacy if not total peace of mind.

But she couldn’t allow herself to think like that. From here on in, it was going to be strictly business. Forty-eight hours, she told herself. That was all. And when it was over she would never have to see him again, unless it was as a guest at Lynne’s wedding next year.

Just two days and two nights and he would be out of her life.

She awoke later than she’d planned the following morning, to find the flat empty and a note from Lynne on the kitchen counter. ‘You looked as if you needed your rest, it ran. I took some croissants and a loaf out of the freezer earlier, and there’s cereal in the cupboard. Also plenty of eggs. I’ll be back around six.’ And, heavily underlined, ‘Try not to worry.’

Marin scrambled the eggs and ate them with grilled smoked bacon, followed by toast with cherry jam and some strong coffee.

Then, dressed in a neat grey skirt and white blouse topped by a navy jacket, she set off for the Ingram Organisation.

Tina, the office secretary, greeted her wide-eyed. ‘The phone line between here and France was burning up on Friday,’ she whispered, and nodded towards Wendy Ingram’s office door. ‘Go right in. She’s waiting for you.’

Mrs Ingram was on the phone when Marin entered, nodding briskly and making notes on a pad in front of her. She gestured to Marin to take a seat then, her call over, she put down her pen and leaned back in her chair.

‘That’s quite a can of worms you seem to have opened,’ she observed caustically. ‘According to Ms Mason, you’re a home-wrecker—a sex-mad wolf in sheep’s clothing who abused her hospitality, her kindness and her trust.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘So, any comment?’

Marin met her gaze steadily. ‘I think the lady is blaming the wrong wolf,’ she said quietly, and gave a succinct and unemotional account of what had happened. ‘I think, when she decided to hire me, she assumed it would be safe,’ she added. ‘That I wouldn’t be his type.’

Wendy Ingram gave a sharp, angry sigh. ‘I suspected as much. In the heat of the moment, Ms Mason said rather more than she intended. And she is now blacklisted.’ She clicked on her computer and looked at the screen. ‘But it leaves me with a difficulty about you. I have nothing until next week at the earliest, and that would be another residential job, running the admin for a veterinary practice in Essex.

‘Their office manager is the sister of one of the vets, but she’s off to Australia for a month, and her local replacement has broken her right arm quite badly so this is something of an emergency.’

She paused. ‘You’d need to spend a couple of days being shown the ropes, and you’d be using Ginny Watson’s flat.

She sighed. ‘I was sending Fiona, but it seems she doesn’t want to be apart from her boyfriend for four weeks, and this is a busy set-up, hardly likely to want someone moping about the place. So, how does it sound to you?’

Like the answer to a prayer, thought Marin. For so many reasons.

Aloud, she said, smiling, ‘You can safely tell Fiona she’s off the hook.’

She had a rich Bolognese sauce bubbling on the stove when Lynne returned that evening, a pan of water heating for the pasta and garlic bread waiting to go in the oven.

Lynne scented the air appreciatively. ‘I think I’ll hire you myself.’

‘Too late.’ Marin informed her. ‘I’m off to deepest Essex next week to work for some vets. Small animals a speciality, which would seem to cut out wolves.’ She smiled. ‘And, as I’m now working again, I don’t need any more money from Mr Radley-Smith. So next weekend is hereby cancelled.’

‘Ah,’ Lynne said quietly, and paused.

Marin stopped stirring the sauce and looked at her. ‘What’s the matter? I thought you’d be cheering.’

‘I probably would,’ Lynne said grimly. ‘If I hadn’t spent much of the day fielding phone calls from Diana Halsay.’ She shook her head. ‘She’s not giving up without a struggle.’ She gave Marin a long look. ‘I think Rad’s relying on you, babe. In fact, I know he is, because I have orders to take you shopping tomorrow.’

‘The only thing I’ll be shopping for is more jeans and some wellies.’ Marin lifted her chin. ‘Naomi worked for a vet in Norfolk a couple of months back, and she said she spent a lot of time tramping behind him over ploughed fields.’

Lynne sighed. ‘Well, before you go on this agricultural spree, could you turn your attention to a couple of evening dresses and all that goes with them instead—no expense spared?’ She added gently. ‘You know I wouldn’t ask you to do this unless I thought it was necessary. And if it’s any reassurance,’ she went on, brightening. ‘I told Rad that he wasn’t your type.’

Marin swung round from the stove, aghast. ‘Reassurance?’ She shuddered. ‘I bet that went down like a lead balloon.’

Lynne grinned. ‘Not a bit of it. He said he’d already worked that out for himself. Anyway, he was quiet for a moment, then promised me on all he held sacred that he’d look after you and that you weren’t to worry about a thing.’

‘All Jake Radley-Smith holds sacred?’ Marin gave a hollow laugh. ‘That must be one of the shortest lists in the universe.’

Lynne’s eyes narrowed as she poured the pasta into the boiling water and added a dash of olive oil. ‘Whoa there, missy. He may be allergic to marriage, but that’s not a hanging offence.

‘Last night you were assuring me there was nothing to worry about, that you could cope and only the cash mattered. Now he’s suddenly turned into Bluebeard. What’s changed?’

Marin shrugged defensively. ‘Perhaps I realised that you were right and I was wrong.’

‘But the money would still be handy,’ Lynne reminded her. ‘The rent you’re getting on your flat only covers the mortgage payments. You’ve nothing put away for contingencies.’

She added slowly, ‘Besides, during the time I’ve worked for him I’ve never known Rad break his word, and, as he’s said you’ll be safe with him, I’d be inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. But the final decision is yours, of course.’

And what happens, Marin thought wryly, giving her sauce a final stir, when the person I really don’t trust in all this is myself?

Twenty-four hours later, reluctantly committed, she found herself the wary possessor of what amounted to a new wardrobe.

‘But I don’t need all this stuff,’ she protested to Lynne as she was herded inexorably from one store to another. ‘It’s such a waste when I’ll never use it again. And I already have underwear,’ she added defiantly.

‘And very pretty it is too,’ Lynne said kindly. ‘But you may not be unpacking your own bag, and your hostess, who is well aware of Jake’s private tastes, may take an interest in what you’ve brought. So you have to remember that you’re supposed to be his girlfriend, and that everything you wear needs to exude man-appeal.’

Marin pursed her lips. ‘And how degrading is that?’

‘That,’ said Lynne, a little smile dancing on her lips, ‘Might depend on how you allegedly feel about the man. So this weekend definitely calls for silk and a fair amount of lace.’

She added briskly, ‘And don’t scowl like that, my pet. You’re not paying for any of it, and when Sunday night comes you can stuff the whole lot into a bin liner, if you feel like it.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Marin said through gritted teeth. ‘I plan to.’

She dug her heels in, however, over the purchase of a bikini, insisting instead on a simple black maillot, and Lynne did not argue the point.

Her only comfort in all this, Marin reflected vindictively as she put each tissue-wrapped garment in the soft tan leather case, was that Mr Radley-Smith would never get to see most of these expensive trifles. Although he might wince when the credit-card bill arrived.

She was glad of the diversion that her Essex visit provided. The practice was busy and efficient, and the demands of the job well within her capacity. Ginny Watson was pleasant and friendly, and the self-contained flat over the garage that Marin would occupy was comfortable as well as compact.

She was going to Australia to see her boyfriend, Ginny confided, another vet who’d recently relocated there.

‘He wanted me to go with him,’ she said. ‘But it’s a big change, and I wasn’t sure. However, we miss each other terribly, so I’m off to see if I like it there too.’

‘How wonderful,’ Marin said, wondering rather wistfully what it would be like to be wanted and needed from half a world away. ‘I hope it all goes really well.’

Ginny eyed Marin thoughtfully. ‘You’re all right about staying down here for a whole month? Your boyfriend won’t mind?’

‘That was Fiona,’ Marin said. ‘I’m—free as air.’

Or I will be, she thought, her throat tightening. Once this weekend is behind me.

As she waited for Jake to come for her on Friday afternoon, tension was coiled inside her like a spring.

Punctual to the minute, he stood in the doorway of the living room, smiling faintly. ‘So you haven’t run away after all?’

The charcoal trousers he was wearing emphasised his lean hips and long legs, and the pale grey-and-white checked shirt was open at the neck, its sleeves rolled back over his forearms, revealing what she suspected would be an all-over tan.

‘Did you think I would?’ she challenged, suddenly dry-mouthed and despising herself.

She hadn’t wanted the clothes he’d bought for her but, as she endured his critical scrutiny, she knew that the deep-red sleeveless top gave warmth to her pale skin and looked good teamed with the plain cream knee-length skirt, while elegant cream sandals added at least an inch to her height, plus a much-needed boost to her confidence.

What she was wearing underneath would be her little secret.

Her hair, which Lynne had ordained should be trimmed slightly, was newly washed and shining, and she’d made careful use of cosmetics to bring a glow of colour to her mouth and darken her long lashes.

He shrugged. ‘I wasn’t sure.’ Once again he made no comment on her appearance, but simply picked up her case. ‘Just this bag?’

‘It’s a weekend,’ she said. ‘Not a lifetime.’
Words she’d been repeating to herself continuously over the past days.

His mouth twisted. ‘Although it may seem like a lifetime before it’s over,’ he commented brusquely. ‘Shall we go?’

The car waiting downstairs was low, sleek and powerful with a dashboard like the controls of a nuclear reactor.

‘Typical,’ Marin muttered under her breath as she slid into the passenger seat and adjusted her skirt. Yet, at the same time, the smell of expensive leather made her draw a swift, appreciative breath, and the comfort of the cushions which supported her was like a caress.

She desperately wanted him to drive badly, to be an arrogant, selfish risk-taker with a bad temper. Needed it, so that she could focus all her churning, fragmented feelings about him and channel them once and for all into dislike.

But she was to be disappointed, because of course he was none of those things and, instead, she was unwillingly forced to admire the skilful and patient way he dealt with the heavy traffic leaving London for the weekend.

‘Do you drive?’ he asked at last, breaking the tautness of the silence between them.

‘I have a licence,’ Marin said stiltedly. ‘So I can do so if my work requires it. But there isn’t much opportunity when I’m in the city.’

‘Do you want to take a turn driving this?’

She gasped. ‘My God, no.’ Adding, ‘Thank you,’ as a hurried afterthought.

‘As you wish,’ he returned casually. ‘I simply thought you might enjoy it. That it would start the weekend on a pleasant note at least, whatever happens later.’

‘Are you expecting trouble?’

‘If I was anticipating a restful break with close friends, I’d be travelling alone,’ he said caustically. ‘As it is, I don’t know what to expect, and that makes me uneasy. Let’s just say I’ll be glad when it’s over.’

‘Not nearly as much as I will,’ Marin retorted.

His brief smile held no humour. ‘I can believe it. Try to keep that particular viewpoint under wraps, will you?’

Once they were free of the capital, an hour’s steady driving brought them to their destination. Queens Barton was an attractive village, its houses clustering round a well-kept green.

The house, Georgian in style and built of mellow brick, was situated down a private road some three hundred yards past the church, and approached through a tall, pillared gateway. Jake parked the car alongside several others on the broad, gravelled sweep at the front and came round to open Marin’s door.

He said quietly, ‘It’s going to be all right. I promised your very scary stepsister I’d look after you, and so I will. Now stop worrying.’

He drew her towards him and for a brief instant Marin felt his lips brush her forehead, her eyes and her startled, parted lips.

When he stood back, she stared up at him, telling herself it was unimportant. A gesture. Trying to laugh about it but failing, she said huskily, ‘More window dressing?’

‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘Sheer self-indulgence, actually.’ He took her hand and walked her across the neatly raked gravel. ‘And here’s our host, waiting for us.’