Lost in Love

He nodded grimly. ‘If I had loved you better, Marnie, then—’

‘I had a fall, Guy!’ she inserted shrilly. ‘Neither you nor I could be to blame for that! I fell. I told you last night. I stumbled and fell down some steps. A tragic accident. No one’s fault.’

‘My fault,’ he insisted. ‘You are not a careless creature, Marnie. If I had taken better care of you, loved you so openly that you could never have doubted me in any situation you caught me in, then you would not have run away from me. And you would not have become so wrapped up in your misery as to allow yourself to fall!’

‘So,’ she said, ‘because you decided to take the whole guilt of it on to yourself, you then decided the best thing you could do for both of us was jump into that—rotten car and drive it at speeds guaranteed to kill!’

‘No.’ Reaching out, he took hold of her, dragging her into his arms. ‘Never,’ he denied. ‘I have no intention of ever leaving you again. Be clear on that. But you know my black devils, Marnie. When they drive me I have to answer to them. And behind the wheel of a car I am as cool as a cucumber, clear-headed and clear-eyed. A tyre blew, that’s why I spun off the track,’ he explained. ‘It had nothing to do with my bad driving, or the speed I was travelling at. Or even my trying my best to die for love of you!’ he mocked. ‘It was just the simple result of a faulty tyre. Nothing else.’

She looked dubiously over at the wrecked car. ‘But you could have killed yourself.’

‘Impossible,’ he said with more his usual arrogance. ‘I am too good a driver. Even at speeds of one hundred and fifty miles an hour these cars can be controlled on three wheels. They are built for safety, no matter how flimsy they look.’

‘They set on fire at the drop of a hat, too,’ she pointed out.

‘Which is why I wear all this protective gear, so I can still climb out relatively unscathed.’

It was only then that they both seemed to become aware of the rain pouring relentlessly down on their heads. Of the puddle they were kneeling in. Of their dripping heads and muddy clothes, and their cold, wet faces.

‘You look a mess,’ Marnie observed frankly. ‘And you’ve hurt yourself—here.’ She touched a wet fingertip to his cheek where a bruise was already beginning to swell.

‘And you have scratches all over your arms and face.’ Guy returned the tender gesture by touching his fingers to the thin red scratch-marks on her cheeks. ‘How did they happen?’

‘Coming to rescue you,’ she told him, blue eyes twinkling ruefully. ‘I had to fight my way through a hedge and it fought back—kiss it better?’ she murmured huskily.

Guy looked deeply into her love-darkened eyes, then slowly placed a kiss on each red mark. ‘Anywhere else?’ he enquired as he drew away.

‘Oh, all over, I think,’ she sighed, the feather-like feel of his mouth leaving her skin tingling with pleasure. ‘What about you?’ she then asked in sudden concern. ‘Did you hurt yourself anywhere else other than that bruise on your eye?’

‘Oh, all over, I think,’ he mimicked hopefully.

‘Seriously?’ she demanded.

‘Seriously,’ he mocked. ‘I bashed my shoulder a bit when the car lurched off the track, then received some other more—er—delicate injuries when a wild woman came at me from nowhere and began beating me up!’

‘Oh.’ She pouted, remembering her mad attack. ‘I was angry with you.’

‘I did notice,’ he drawled.

‘Well,’ she defended herself, ‘I expected to find you dead, at least! And there you were standing there looking as fit as a blooming fiddle!’

‘Is there something worse than death?’ he enquired curiously.

‘Yes,’ Marnie answered, her expression suddenly very serious. ‘A lifetime of never knowing how much I love you, Guy.’

‘Come here,’ he muttered, pulling her against him and wrapping her tightly in his arms. ‘You are all I have ever wanted in my life from the moment you entered it, Marnie.’

‘Then let’s go home, Guy,’ she whispered. ‘I want to hold you close in that big warm bed I woke up feeling so alone in this morning.’

‘Bed?’ His mood brightened, his manner with it. ‘That has to be a better option than a puddle any day,’ he agreed, pulling her to her feet as he got up himself. ‘A long hot bath sounds good, too,’ he added leeringly.

‘A bath for two?’ Marnie suggested, tucking her arm around his waist while he hugged her by her shoulders. She lifted her wet face up to him and let her eyes twinkle with promises.

Guy growled something and began to run, dashing with her through the rain towards the house.

‘I could paint you looking like this, all wet and sexily tousled,’ Marnie told him a few minutes later when they were safely locked behind their bedroom door.

‘Not today, you couldn’t,’ Guy said firmly. ‘Today I have other of your—talents to call upon. Mainly making this man you married happy.’