A Whirlwind Marriage

Zeke, on the other hand, ate his six rounds of bread with half a pound of bacon and lashings of tomato sauce with every appearance of enjoyment, washing it down with two more mugs of tea.

She glanced at him as she pulled on her coat, wishing with all her heart that it didn’t thrill her to see him sitting on her sofa, but it did. Which probably made her the most stupid person in all of England, she reflected silently.

He caught her eye, smiling the smile he used so rarely but which had the power to turn her inside out, before he said softly, ‘Sure you don’t mind me staying a while longer?’

‘Not at all.’ She tried to sound brisk and matter-of-fact, but it was not easy in view of the fact he was practically naked. ‘Just let yourself out when your clothes are dry and you’re ready to go.’

‘We never did have that talk.’

Story of their lives together, really. ‘No, we never did,’ she agreed evenly, her throat tight. If he’d ever really intended it, that was.

And then he made her feel guilty for the unworthiness of her suspicions when he said, quite humbly for Zeke Buchanan, ‘Can I stay until lunch-time and we’ll talk then? We need to get a few things sorted.’

More than a few. She nodded carefully, searching in her mind for how best to phrase her next words. ‘I think it might be better if you came to the shop and we went for a bar snack, something like that,’ she managed steadily. ‘In view of the separation we shouldn’t really be…’

Her voice trailed away as words failed her.

‘Copulating?’ he suggested expressionlessly.

Okay, pretty basic, but then what had she expected? Marianne asked herself savagely. ‘Making love’ would have been slightly out of place, in the circumstances, although that was exactly what she had done. And Zeke had copulated.

‘I break for lunch at one,’ she said stiffly.

‘I’ll be there.’

Selfish, unfeeling, arrogant pig of a man! She found she was calling him all the names under the sun as she ran down the stairs after a hasty goodbye, and then she stopped just before the door into the street, leaning against the wall for a moment. But he had been sufficiently disturbed by what she had said to him the night before to lose a night’s sleep, she reminded herself hopefully. That was good, wasn’t it?

Or had his nocturnal musings merely confirmed that they weren’t suited and should part? He hadn’t said anything to the contrary; in fact, if she thought about what he had said, rather than what he had done, every indication was that he had decided they should part. And she had fallen into his arms like a ripe peach the minute he had touched her! She groaned quietly, the chill from the wall behind her nothing to the bleak rawness that swept through her as she remembered her total capitulation.

When she opened the door she stepped into seven or eight inches of snow, which immediately swamped the one pair of shoes she had brought with her from the apartment. Great, just great. She stared down at her already soaking feet in exasperation. Thank goodness the supermarket wasn’t a few blocks away! Well, it looked as if a new pair of boots was on the agenda for lunch-time, as well as her date with Zeke. Or perhaps Mrs Polinkski would let her nip out mid-morning and do a spot of essential shopping? She didn’t fancy presenting herself to Zeke as the little waif and stray, especially not after this morning. He needed to see her as cool, calm and confident, perfectly able to take care of herself and her own destiny—not orphan Annie.

Lunchtime saw Marianne snug and warm in the new winter coat and boots which had effectively cleared out the last of her bank account, but she didn’t care. Her life was in ashes round her feet, her husband wanted a separation—she ignored the little voice reminding her she had been the one to set the ball rolling—and she had made a terrible mistake in sleeping with Zeke that

morning, but she intended to look like a million dollars for this lunch date.

Never mind that it was basically to confirm the end of her marriage and all the hopes she’d had for the future; she would go out of his life like a glittering star, not a damp squib!

It was in that frame of mind that she sailed out of the shop at one, glancing round for Zeke as she did so.

‘Marianne?’

She hadn’t seen the BMW, parked, as it was, between a large van and a big four-by-four, but as Zeke wound down the window and called to her she lifted a gloved hand—new beige leather gloves which matched the boots and complemented the chocolate-brown coat perfectly—and walked carefully over to the car. It had stopped snowing but was freezing hard, and the pavement was like glass.

‘Hallo, Zeke,’ she said shortly, her cool voice belying the rapid beating of her heart as he left the car and walked round to open her door for her.

He had obviously been home to change; the big lean body was clothed as immaculately as ever, a different overcoat open over a crisp designer suit that dared a flake of snow to spoil its spotless perfection. He looked what he was—a powerful, wealthy, handsome man with an excess of intelligence and a raw magnetism that was lethal. As different from the grey-faced, tormented individual she had opened the door to first thing that morning as chalk from cheese.

Would the real Zeke Buchanan please stand up!

As she slid into the car and he closed the door, before walking round the bonnet to the driver’s seat, she found herself watching him.

She had seen two facets of his complex personality this morning—one, a tongue-tied, tortured creature, and the other a devastatingly accomplished and confident lover. Now she was seeing a third—the man he usually presented to the world in general. But it was the first one who interested her. She hadn’t seen him before, and something deep inside, born of her love for him, told her she had to see that Zeke Buchanan again if there was any hope for them.

He had been very low this morning, exhausted with all his defences down, and so the mask had slipped for a while. She would have to make it slip again.

And she wouldn’t do that by dressing herself up as she had this lunch-time and trying to act a part—the part of cool, self-contained woman of the world. She had to be herself, whatever the cost. In fact, as she looked back over the last twenty-six months and saw how much she had tried to clone herself to fall into line with the Lilianas of his empire, she was surprised and shocked at herself.

Zeke had fallen in love with an ordinary young girl who hadn’t known one designer label from another, who had been exuberant and fresh and outspoken.