Innocent Cinderella: His Untamed Innocent / Penniless and Purchased / Her Last Night of Innocence

It was like a little war, she thought, with herself caught in the middle. Maybe it was time she definitely established just whose side she was on.

It was apparent, for instance, that he’d washed his hair while he was showering and it shone, thick and glossy in the sunlight, only inches from her hand, offering her an irresistible opportunity for an intimate gesture of her own.

He’s paying me, she told herself. Maybe I should start earning my money.

She let her hand drift down almost casually, stroking her fingers through the dark, silky strands, breathing as she bent towards him the beguiling scent of warm, clean skin, soap and the faint citrus aroma of some expensive shampoo. Everything, she thought, that she would forever associate with him. And as she did so she could have sworn she felt him tense.

Her hand slipped down to touch the damp tendrils at the nape of his neck. She said very softly, ‘You didn’t dry your hair properly.’

‘I was in a hurry.’ He turned his head, his eyes smiling lazily, intimately up into hers. ‘Next time, I’ll get you to do it for me.’

She wished she didn’t blush so easily, but after all she’d started this, so she could hardly back down now. She said sedately, ‘It will be my pleasure.’

His smile widened to a grin. ‘Now that I can guarantee,’ he murmured.

‘Consuela.’ Diana Halsay spoke imperiously to the hovering olive-skinned maid. ‘Please attend to my guests.’

Within seconds, a small table was placed beside Marin’s chair and she and Jake were being offered plates providing a choice of tiny sandwiches of smoked salmon, egg and cress and some delicious pâté, plus Earl Grey tea served with lemon.

In spite of her inward churnings, Marin had managed to eat her share and chat to Clare Dawson, who was plump, grey-haired and disposed to be friendly.

As the party on the lawn eventually broke up, Diana announced, ‘Tonight’s strictly caz, darlings. I’ve invited some locals tomorrow, so we’ll save the formality for then.’

But Jake had made it clear as they went up to their rooms that he didn’t believe her. ‘Diana doesn’t do casual,’ he said flatly. ‘Or not as any ordinary person understands it. She’s probably trying to wrong-foot you, so I suggest you wear something from the evening gear Lynne made you buy.’

She bit her lip. ‘As you wish,’ she agreed colourlessly.

It was on that very subject that she and Lynne had come close to falling out, she recalled.

She’d looked at herself with horror in the changing-room mirror as she tried on the first dress. ‘No way. My God, the skirt’s too short and the top hardly exists.’

‘What would you prefer?’ Lynne had queried acidly. ‘A nun’s habit? For heaven’s sake, honey, I thought you’d accepted that you’re dressing as Rad’s girlfriend rather than yourself. So please believe that shade of green is perfect for your colouring, and the bustier style makes the most of everything else you’ve got.’ She’d paused. ‘ So stop complaining and try this next.’

This had turned out to be the dress she’d be wearing tonight, hardly more than a silky slip in turquoise, with a deep cross-over bodice and narrow straps.

Her protest to Lynne that she wouldn’t be able to wear a bra under this had fallen on deaf ears.

‘All the better,’ her stepsister had commented breezily on the way to the cash desk.

You’re dressing for a part, Marin reminded herself now as she twisted her hair into a loose knot on top of her head and secured it with a silver clip studded with yet more turquoise. Her earrings were silver too, in a simple spiral design, and she’d kept her make-up light.

But she felt hideously self-conscious when she opened her bedroom door to Jake’s brief knock and saw his eyes widen.

She said quickly, ‘Is it too much? Only you did say…’

‘You look amazing,’ he told her quietly. ‘The other women will be eating their hearts out.’

She could see as soon as they entered the drawing room that Jake’s instinct had been quite right. The men, including himself, were in dark lounge suits, but all the women were wearing cocktail dresses, Diana’s being a midnight blue spangled affair that plunged to a dangerous depth at front and back. And a fleeting look of chagrin crossed her face when she saw Marin and what she was wearing.

Robert Bannister came over, cocktail shaker in hand. His eyes lingered on the soft curves revealed by Marin’s bodice. ‘Well, Jake, you’ve always been a lucky bastard, I’ll grant you that.’ He held up the shaker. ‘Can I tempt you both to a Halsay Hand Grenade?’

Jake smiled calmly. ‘A kind thought, but absolutely not. Marin would like white wine and soda, and I’ll have a gin and tonic.’

When they were left alone, he added softly, ‘If you hate spritzers, you can feed yours to one of Diana’s plants. God knows there are enough of them around this room.’

Graham Halsay bore down on them. ‘Someone getting drinks for you both? Excellent.’ He smiled expansively. ‘Jake, you already know everyone, so let me take your charming companion under my wing and perform some proper introductions.’

And quite suddenly, it all became easier, and she was almost able to relax.

‘That’s a Fenella Finch dress, isn’t it?’ said Clare Dawson. She sighed. ‘She’s my daughter’s favourite designer, but no use to me, I’m afraid.’

Her husband Jeffrey, a large, grey-haired man who reminded Marin of her stepfather, smiled at her affectionately. ‘Well, I think you always look lovely, darling.’

That’s how marriage should be, Marin reflected wistfully, thinking of her mother, loved devotedly by two good men. Because it wasn’t about good looks, money and large houses but finding someone who was your other half to complete you, make you whole and safe. Then—keeping them close, for ever.

And wondered if she would ever be that lucky.

Her slightly sombre mood wasn’t improved when she went into dinner, and found she’d been seated next to Robert Bannister with Jake placed on the opposite side of the table and much further down.

However, the food was lovely, and she easily resisted all Mr Bannister’s slightly patronising efforts to flirt with her, so the meal, although far lengthier than she’d bargained for, was also less of an ordeal than she’d feared.

And most of the conversation was general, which meant she was not obliged to contribute.

Eventually, inevitably, the talk turned to the weather.

‘You seem to have struck lucky again, Diana,’ Chaz Stratton remarked. ‘Do you have a secret deal with the great weather-man in the sky?’

Diana Halsay joined the general ripple of amusement round the table. ‘Oh, how I wish it were true. It’s such a nightmare trying to plan anything in an English summer. I suppose that’s why so many people are moving further afield, finding themselves second homes near the Med.’

She flashed a smile at her husband. ‘I’ve been trying hard to wheedle Graham into doing the same, but he’s being awfully stubborn.’

‘We have a second home, darling,’ Graham Halsay reminded her quietly. ‘In fact, we’re having dinner in it right at this moment.’

‘Of course,’ she said swiftly. ‘But it’s a rather different story when it’s lashing with rain outside in sub-zero temperatures.’ She ticked off on her fingers. ‘Leila James has a place near Marbella, Gilly Webb is looking for a big country house in Italy and another friend of mine has been immersed in a renovation project in the South of France.’

Her laugh tinkled out. ‘And here am I, praying for two fine days in a row.’

‘You keep up the pressure, Diana,’ said Robert Bannister. ‘Graham will give in eventually.’

Will he? Marin wondered, noting the host’s set expression. Somehow, I doubt it.

‘What about you, Miss Wade?’ All eyes swivelled to Marin as Diana spoke, smiling. ‘I’m sure you must have hankered for your own special place in the sun.’

Which is why, she’s implying, that I’m dating a millionaire, thought Marin.

But she smiled back with the utmost tranquillity. ‘I’m very fortunate, Mrs Halsay. My parents have a home in Portugal, and I spend a lot of time with them there.’

Or I would, if I didn’t have to work so hard and so long in order to make a living.

‘Really?’ Diana said brightly. ‘How fascinating.’ And she changed the subject—and her target.

It was much later, while coffee was being served and she was taking a surreptitious look at her watch, that Marin found herself unexpectedly under her hostess’s spotlight again.

‘Do you swim at all, Miss Wade?’ Diana enquired sweetly from the foot of the table during a lull in the conversation. ‘Because my little Saturday morning gala is becoming quite a tradition. I do hope you’ll feel able to take part in it.’

Well, that explained the session with Lynne in the sports department, Marin thought drily. She debated whether to mention that she’d swum for her school, and in a junior county team, and decided to keep quiet.

‘Thank you,’ she responded calmly. ‘I shall look forward to it.’

‘Excellent.’ Diana’s smile wafted past her to Jake. ‘And I can’t wait to see if anyone can beat you, darling.’

‘I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed, my dear.’ Graham’s intervention was also smiling but brisk. ‘Jake and I have business to discuss tomorrow, which makes us both non-starters. I thought you understood that.’

There was a pause, then Diana sighed prettily. ‘Ah, well.’ She spread her hands in a humorous gesture of resignation. ‘This is what happens when you marry a workaholic. But I’m sure I don’t need to remind any of the wives present of that.’

She looked back at Marin. ‘Beware, Miss Wade, of becoming involved with a man who puts the job first.’

In fact, thought Marin, you’re really saying—don’t get involved with Jake. Full stop. And you’re addressing your own interests rather than mine.

She said composedly, ‘I’ll certainly bear your advice in mind, Mrs Halsay—if I’m ever tempted.’

As they left the dining room, Jake was momentarily detained by his host, and Marin found herself claimed by Sylvia Bannister.

‘You’ve turned out to be the surprise of the weekend.’ Her tone was faintly supercilious. ‘How did you and Jake Radley-Smith become such an item? Or is it indiscreet to ask?’

‘Certainly not,’ Marin returned. ‘We met through my sister. She works for him.’

‘Oh.’ The other woman was clearly surprised. ‘But you don’t?’

‘Heavens, no.’ Marin produced a mock shudder. ‘That would be terribly unwise. Don’t they say never mix business with pleasure?’

‘I’ve heard it mentioned.’ Mrs Bannister paused. ‘So how do you earn a crust, if I may ask?’

‘I work for the Ingram Organisation,’ Marin said coolly. ‘We supply a whole range of secretarial services for companies and private individuals.’

‘You must be good at your job. It certainly seems to pay very well.’ Sylvia Bannister ran a narrow-eyed glance over the Fenella Finch dress. ‘And when did you meet Jake?’

Marin shrugged. ‘A while back.’ She added nonchalantly, ‘But I seem to have known him for ever.’ And she realised with a little shiver of awareness that it was no more than the truth.

Mrs Bannister’s eyes narrowed. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘You’ve been his best-kept secret until now.’ She glanced towards Diana Halsay who was standing alone by the fireplace. ‘No wonder…’ She checked herself fsuddenly. ‘But that’s not important.’

‘No,’ Marin said gently. ‘It isn’t.’ She smiled politely and turned away, then after a brief hesitation walked over to Diana.

She said quietly, ‘I hope you’ll excuse me, Mrs Halsay, if I say goodnight. It’s been rather a long day.’ Nor do I want any more sessions with the Spanish Inquisition.

‘And will probably be a much longer night.’ Diana’s mouth smiled brightly, but her eyes were like stone. ‘Do make sure, my pet, that Jake allows you just a little rest. We don’t want to drag you out of the deep end tomorrow.’

Marin felt embarrassed colour flood her face, but she kept her voice steady. ‘Thanks for the advice, Mrs Halsay, but I think I’ll manage to keep afloat.’ She added lightly, ‘Besides, Jake’s not an easy man to refuse.’

I’ll probably have to pay for that, she thought with a soundless sigh as she turned away. I hope it was worth it.

She was in her room, replacing her dress in the wardrobe, when there was a knock on the door and Jake’s voice said, ‘Marin—a word, please.’

She hesitated. ‘Can’t it wait until tomorrow? I—I’m rather tired.’

‘I’d rather we spoke now.’ He paused, then added flatly, ‘I’ll count to three, then I’m coming in.’

To find her, she realised numbly, naked except for a pair of lace briefs.

She heard him say, ‘One…’ and called back, her voice strangled, ‘No, wait—please.’

Hastily she searched along the rail for the pretty ivory satin robe which Lynne had insisted should be added to their haul and dragged it from its hanger, thrusting her arms into its sleeves and knotting the sash firmly round her slender waist.

As she opened the door, Jake walked past her into the room and stood hands on hips, viewing her critically. ‘I must remember to tell Lynne that her taste is faultless,’ he commented.

She lifted her chin. ‘If that’s all you came to say, it could certainly have waited.’

‘I don’t do waiting,’ he said. ‘I thought you’d have picked up on that by now. But I wanted to talk about something else.’ He paused. ‘Clare Dawson, who’s taken a shine to you, told me quietly that you seemed to be having a minor confrontation with Diana just now, and she was afraid you could have retired hurt.’ He shook his head. ‘I should have been with you to draw her fire.’

Marin bit her lip. ‘No need.’ She forced a smile. ‘I think I actually came off best from the encounter—this time, at least.’

He said with a touch of harshness, ‘And I fear she’s just getting into her stride. Goddamn it, I should have said no to Graham’s invitation and insisted on a weekday meeting instead.’

Marin shrugged. ‘I’ve been in worse situations.’ She thought of Greg and her skin felt suddenly clammy.

‘Then you have my sympathy.’ His mouth twisted wryly. ‘However, you don’t have to take part in Diana’s swimming fest tomorrow, if you’d rather not. I can find some way of getting you out of it.’

‘After you’ve bought me a new swimsuit?’ Marin enquired coolly. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. And I’ll try not to make a complete fool of myself.’

‘One more thing,’ he said softly. ‘Is there really a villa in Portugal?’

‘Yes, of course. I wouldn’t lie about a thing like that. Has Lynne never mentioned it?’

‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘Even—probably. Although we don’t share every facet of our lives.’

‘For which she must be eternally grateful.’ The thought translated itself into words and escaped aloud before she could stop herself.

His eyes narrowed. ‘Save your claws for when they’re needed,’ he directed coolly. ‘Don’t sharpen them on me.’ He paused. ‘I asked about Portugal only because I’m surprised you didn’t go there when the job went pear-shaped. Wouldn’t your parents have helped you?’

‘Yes,’ Marin said. ‘But I’ve always tried to remain independent. Manage alone, whatever happened.’ And if I’d even hinted about Greg’s behaviour, she thought, Derek would have gone looking for him with an axe.

‘But instead you turned to Lynne and fell into my evil clutches.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Portugal might have been the safer option, my sweet.’

‘Safer, but fraught with long-term difficulties, because they’d have wanted me to stay. Whereas in another thirty-six hours all this will be over, Mr Radley-Smith, and you and I will never have to meet again.’

She took a breath. ‘And, now that’s settled, I’m sure you’ll want to rejoin your friends downstairs.’

His brows lifted. ‘Not when you let it be known you were having an early night,’ he observed caustically. ‘That would be considered in most circles as a delicate hint to me to join you without delay.’

He added softly, ‘Believe me, sweetheart, they won’t be expecting to see either of us until we arrive exhausted but ecstatic at tomorrow’s breakfast table.’

‘Yes, that was what Mrs Halsay implied.’ Her face was burning again. ‘But I just wanted to get away. I—I wasn’t thinking when I said it.’

‘No?’ He smiled at her. ‘And I thought it was all part of some cunning plan.’

‘I don’t think I’m that devious,’ Marin said ruefully.

‘No,’ Jake said slowly. ‘I don’t think so, either.’ He walked over to her and stood looking down into her face, the blue eyes sombre as they searched hers. ‘I should never have involved you in all this,’ he said quietly. ‘I don’t often suffer from regrets, but this is one of those rare occasions.’

She was trembling inside, her voice husky as she said, ‘Well, it’s too late to turn back now.’

‘Yes,’ he said, and there was an odd almost bitter note in his voice. ‘I know it is.’ He framed her face in hands that felt as cool as water against her flushed skin and held her for a long moment. He said softly, ‘Goodnight, Marin. Sleep well.’

He let his gaze rest on her parted lips, then after an almost palpable hesitation stepped back, turning in the direction of his own room.

Motionless, she watched him go, heard the click as the door closed behind him, lifted a hand to touch the mouth she’d thought he was about to kiss. Knowing how much she’d wanted him to do precisely that.

Wondering if he’d known too—had guessed somehow—and decided to let her down lightly with his refusal.

And, if that was indeed so, trying quite desperately to feel grateful.

She spent a restless night, her sleep interspersed with fitful dreams, and woke all too early in a bed that looked as if it had been hit by a cyclone. She then had to decide whether to get up and re-make it, or simply get up. And, feeling hot, sticky and frazzled, she went for the latter option.

She trod over to the window and knelt on the seat, resting her forehead against the coolness of the glass. Everything was still, the sky a hazy blue, the sun already gathering strength.

A walk in the garden, she thought. Peace and quiet to bolster her for the day ahead, and the storm clouds hovering not far away which had nothing to do with the weather.

She showered swiftly, then dressed with equal speed in a pair of white linen cropped trousers, and a dark blue sleeveless top, keeping one eye on the communicating door as if expecting it to open at any moment. Which was ridiculous, bordering on paranoid, when it was still as firmly closed as it had been when Jake had left her the previous night.

I have to start trusting him, she thought as she brushed her hair, then paused, wondering uneasily if it could possibly be herself she didn’t trust as she remembered vague but embarrassing fragments of last night’s dreams.

But she couldn’t afford that kind of speculation. She had to think of the money, and only of the money she reminded herself as she made her way downstairs. If she concentrated on that and nothing else, in another twenty-four hours all this would be over and her life would be back under her own exclusive control once again.

As she reached the ground floor, the chink of crockery from the dining room and a murmur of voices indicated that the staff were already busy preparing for breakfast. The drawing room was deserted, however, the French windows standing wide open to air the room, and she slipped out noiselessly on to the terrace and went down the broad steps.

The lawn was damp with early dew, and the air had a clarity and freshness not discernible in the house.

Marin knew where the pool was, because Clare Dawson had been talking regretfully before dinner last night about the herb garden that had been destroyed to make way for it by Graham’s first wife. She followed the path down to a high brick wall and pushed open the wrought iron gate.

As she walked in, a bird rose from one of the climbing roses growing round the enclosing walls and flew away with a trill of warning, leaving only silence.

Whatever the charms of the herb garden might have been, Marin felt as she looked around her that the first Mrs Halsay had made a good job of the conversion. There was a wooden changing pavilion painted pale yellow at one end, while wrought iron tables with cushioned chairs and parasols in pastel colours that matched the roses were set in groups round the pool.

She stood for a long moment, eyes half-closed, breathing the scent of the flowers in the warm, still air. Then she moved across the flagstones to the side of the pool and knelt, dabbling an exploratory hand in the turquoise water.

‘Trying to get some secret practice, Miss Wade?’ Diana Halsay’s voice made her start.

Mentally cursing the premature loss of her solitude, and its cause, Marin got to her feet and turned to face her hostess who was standing a couple of yards away, glossy in grey linen trousers and a matching silky top.

She said composedly, ‘Just testing the waters, Mrs Halsay.’

‘You’re certainly an early riser,’ Diana commented. ‘Fresh as a rose too. You’ve really impressed my husband. He was saying last night that you were what the French call “belle-laide”. Not strictly a beauty, but with an odd kind of attraction just the same.’

‘How very flattering.’ Marin lifted her chin. ‘I didn’t know I warranted being a topic of conversation.’

Diana gave her an old-fashioned look. ‘Oh, come on, sweetie. Not even you can be that naïve. But understand this. Whatever game you’re playing with Jake isn’t fooling anyone, except perhaps poor old Graham, who thinks you’re a really nice girl.’

Marin said tautly, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. There is no game.’

‘I hope not.’ Diana’s smile did not reach her eyes. ‘Because I promise that you’re in a strictly no-win situation.’

‘Trying to undermine the opposition, Diana?’ Jake asked from the gateway. ‘Isn’t that against the rules?’ He walked over to Marin, put a hand under her chin and bent to kiss her lightly on the lips. ‘You were missing when I woke up,’ he said softly. ‘That’s not allowed, either.’

‘One of the things we always had in common, darling,’ said Diana. ‘We both made our own rules and changed them whenever we wished. Maybe we should all remember that.’ She added, ‘Breakfast is being served—if either of you are interested.’

And, on that, she sauntered to the gate and disappeared, leaving them alone together.

Chapter Six

JAKE’S HAND WAS still clasping Marin’s chin as he looked down into her eyes.

He said quietly, ‘Are you all right?’

‘Of course.’ She freed herself, stepping back. ‘How did you know where I was?’

‘I saw you from the bedroom, crossing the lawn. I wanted to talk to you anyway, but then I saw Diana following you and decided to hurry.’

She said stiltedly, ‘She doesn’t believe it. That we’re involved—having an affair.’

‘Did she say so?’

She looked past him. ‘Pretty much.’

‘Then we’ll have to try to be more convincing.’ He nodded at a wooden bench set against the wall. ‘Shall we sit down?’

She hesitated. ‘Shouldn’t we go back for breakfast?’

‘There’s plenty of time. Besides, we do need to talk, and this seems relatively neutral territory.’

‘Talk about what?’ she asked as she reluctantly took a seat beside him.

He shrugged. ‘Maybe explore the vast uncharted wastes of all the things we still don’t know about each other. I wouldn’t want to be caught out again by something like the house in Portugal.’

‘That’s hardly likely.’ She stared down at the flagstones. ‘Besides, I think we know enough to get us through the next twenty-four hours.’

‘After which?’

‘After which we revert to being strangers,’ Marin returned, ignoring the sudden thump of her heart. ‘Getting on with our very separate lives,’ she added with emphasis.

‘Well, there we differ,’ he said softly. ‘Because I think the mutual learning-process has just begun. And that our lives are going to be far from separate.’