Deal With the Devil--3 Book Box Set

When once she would have laughed, now Lucy could only manage the paltriest of wan smiles, Marcus noticed bitterly.

Why? Because secretly she was thinking she wanted to spend her Christmas with Blayne? The pain that thought caused him was almost beyond bearing. Where had it come from and what did it mean?

She still hadn’t said a word to him about seeing Blayne, and Marcus wondered how much contact there had been between them since then.

‘No.’ Lucy gave him a rueful look. ‘Mother is talking about us all going to Framlingdene and staying there.’

Framlingdene was the National Trust Property that had originally been the country seat of Lucy’s father’s family. The family had retained the right to use a suite of rooms there.

‘Will there be enough room for all of us?’

‘No, not really. I think it would be better if we simply stayed here in London. We normally have a big family party at Great-Aunt Alice’s on Boxing Day, since she’s got the space, and I imagine we could all have dinner there quite easily.’

‘Well, it certainly makes more sense than driving up to Yorkshire. Lucy—is something wrong?’

His question shocked and surprised Marcus almost as much as it obviously did Lucy. Since when had he wanted to talk about emotions?

Lucy’s colour came and went whilst she struggled between truth and fear—and love.

In the end, love won out.

‘No, of course not. Why should there be?’

‘No particular reason—other than that you don’t exactly look like a glowing newly married,’ Marcus heard himself saying curtly.

‘Glowing newly marrieds are normally glowing because they are in love with one another,’ Lucy told him lightly. ‘And we aren’t.’

She would have to tell him soon that she wanted to end their marriage. Soon, but not yet. Please, just let her have a little more time with him. One birthday, one Christmas…she would tell him before the New Year, she promised herself.

Lucy hesitated outside the jeweller’s. It was Marcus’s birthday today, and tonight they were going out for dinner with his family. She had already bought him a new silk tie, and she certainly couldn’t afford to buy him one of the expensive watches displayed in the window in front her.

Besides, he would replace his stolen Rolex himself in due course. It had been insured.

Even so…There was a discreet sign in the window saying that they also sold good quality ‘previous owner’ watches.

She could always go in and enquire.

Half an hour later she was back on the pavement outside the shop, huddling into her coat to protect herself from the icy blast of the wind, the Rolex watch on which she had just spent virtually every penny she had in her bank account safely tucked in her handbag.

It was exactly the same model as the watch Marcus had had stolen, and she was thrilled to be able to give it to him for his birthday. Would he keep it for ever? Even after they were divorced? The pain caught her breath and held her immobile in its grip.

They were going for dinner at the Carlton Towers—mainly because in Marcus’s opinion they served the best steak in London.

Marcus arrived home just as Lucy stepped out of the shower. By the time he had reached the bedroom she had wrapped herself in a towel and was seated on their bed, his watch carefully gift wrapped beside her.

‘What’s this?’ he demanded as she handed it to him.

‘Your birthday present.’

‘I thought I had that this morning.’

‘Your tie? Yes, I know. But this is something extra,’ Lucy told him huskily.

She was beginning to have an effect on him that wasn’t what he had planned, Marcus acknowledged as he sat down beside her and unwrapped his present.

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. But when he removed the paper and saw the familiar Rolex box he was surprised.

‘It isn’t new, I’m afraid. I couldn’t…But it’s just like the one you lost.’

It wasn’t—not quite—because the one he had lost had originally belonged to his father. But he didn’t tell her that. Instead he put the watch on without a word, and then took hold of her and kissed her fiercely.

It seemed to have been such a long time since he had kissed her like this—even though in reality they had only been back from their honeymoon a fortnight. And if he had not made love to her as passionately since their return then that was very probably down to the fact that she had not encouraged him to do so. Lucy had that brief thought, and then she stopped thinking about anything as he rolled her down onto the bed beneath him and kept on kissing her.

Yearningly Lucy kissed him back. She loved him so very much…

‘You two are late. What kept you?’ Lucy’s mother asked, when Lucy and Marcus hurried into the restaurant of the Carlton Towers hotel.

Automatically Lucy looked at Marcus. Thank goodness it was too dark in here for anyone else to notice the look Marcus was giving her.

‘Marcus, you’ve got your watch back,’ Beatrice announced halfway through dinner.

‘Actually, no. Lucy gave me this for my birthday.’

Again he looked at her, and this time Lucy suspected that Beatrice had seen the gleam in his eyes, and had guessed exactly what the giving of the gift had led to, because she suddenly grinned and said quietly to Lucy, ‘Aha—now I think I know why we weren’t the last to arrive for once. I thought it was unlike my normally prompt brother to be late.’

It was gone midnight when they finally got home.

‘Only another three weeks to Christmas,’ Lucy said sleepily.

‘Mmm. Early in the New Year would be a good time for us to start looking for that country house we’ve been thinking about, I suspect.’

Lucy’s heart missed a beat. Early in the New Year their marriage would be as good as over, thanks to Nick and Andrew Walker.

‘What’s wrong?’ Marcus asked her sharply.

‘Nothing. What makes you think there is?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that the emotional temperature has just dropped by ten degrees might have something to do with it,’ Marcus responded, his voice every bit as cool. ‘Something’s on your mind, Lucy.’

‘Nothing is on my mind. I’m just tired, that’s all,’ she lied.

‘I want to get this business of Prêt a Party’s debts sorted out before the New Year,’ Marcus announced. ‘I think we should go and see McVicar together and—’

‘No!’

‘Why not?’

‘I’ve already told you. Prêt a Party is my business and I want to keep it that way. And—and I don’t want to be bullied into doing something I don’t want to do!’

Marcus didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. The look he gave her said it all.

Lucy wanted to plead with him to understand, but how could she do that? Dorland had not been joking when he had said to her that Andrew Walker was a bad man. People’s happiness, people’s lives meant nothing to him, or to those he worked for; she knew that. Ending her marriage to Marcus was the only way she had of protecting him. It was like…it was like performing an amputation to save a person’s life, she told herself. But whilst Marcus would survive that amputation, and probably go on to make a perfectly happy life for himself without her in it, she knew that losing him would leave her bereft for the rest of her life.

Only a week now and it would be Christmas. All the Knightsbridge shops and of course the big stores—Harrods and Harvey Nicks—had been flaunting their Christmas finery for weeks. Lucy had done all her shopping—her cards were posted, and her presents wrapped. Mrs Crabtree had taken some extra holiday so that she could spend more time with her daughter and her grandchildren, and Lucy had been enjoying showing off her domesticity to Marcus via her cooking—even if he had turned the tables on her by cooking for her last night.

He hadn’t mentioned Prêt a Party again, but there was a tension between them that hurt her—though at the same time she was clinging to every second of the ti

me she had with him.

At least he was still making love to her—every night, in fact—with skill and passion and determination. But not, of course, with love.

The doorbell rang as she was on her way through the hall. Automatically she went to answer it, and then froze as she saw Nick standing on the steps.

She tried to close the door, but Nick pushed it open and stepped into the hall, telling her sullenly, ‘What are you doing? I thought you’d be pleased to see me. Andrew said you would be when he told me to come round.’

Andrew Walker had sent him here? Why was she not surprised?

‘Nick, you shouldn’t have come here,’ she protested. ‘If Marcus saw you…’

‘He isn’t here, is he?’