In Bed with Her Ex: Miss Prim and the Billionaire / Mardie and the City Surgeon / The Boy is Back in Town. Marion Lennox

In Bed with Her Ex: Miss Prim and the Billionaire / Mardie and the City Surgeon / The Boy is Back in Town - Marion  Lennox


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can see all I want from here. I’m going to tear it down, and that’s it.’

      ‘I can put you in touch with three excellent building contractors—’

      ‘Can’t we just hire the best?’

      ‘With three you can play them off against each other,’ she pointed out.

      ‘Splendid. I see you believe in reading your employer’s mind and following his instructions exactly.’ ‘What else am I here for?’

      ‘Then here’s another instruction for you. I’ll have no grim and forbidding ladies working for me.’

      ‘Are you firing me?’ she asked lightly.

      ‘No, I’m telling you to make yourself less severe.’

      ‘Flaunt myself, you mean?’ she demanded in a voice that managed to sound shocked. ‘Mr Falcon, I hope I’ve misunderstood you.’

      ‘Only because you’re determined to,’ he replied with a smile that nearly destroyed her composure. ‘I’m going to need you with me a lot of the time—’

      ‘And you think I’m so ugly I’ll frighten the horses?’ she managed to say lightly.

      ‘You’re not ugly. But for some reason you’re determined to pretend you are. Now that is frightening.’

      ‘Why would any woman want to pretend that?’ she murmured.

      ‘A good question. We might talk about it later. Ah, I hear someone at the door. It must be the waiter with my order.’

      He moved away and she clutched the windowsill to stop herself swaying. She was trembling from the feel of his hand on her shoulder, and also from the sensation that he too had been trembling.

      It took several hours to walk slowly through the building, making notes, trying to be inconspicuous. They ended up back in his suite, thankfully drinking coffee.

      ‘I’ll just check my mail,’ he said, opening his laptop, which he’d already connected to the hotel’s Internet.

      He didn’t take long, sending a few messages and making a gesture of dismissal.

      ‘Time to think of having some dinner,’ he said. ‘There’s a place upstairs—’

      Her phone rang. Marcel watched her face as she answered, saw her expression drop and heard her sigh. ‘Dave, I’ve done my best—’

      Dave, he thought. A man with some kind of hold over her, perhaps a man who’d once inspired her love and for whom she still felt some sympathy. Or was he blackmailing her?

      ‘All right, all right,’ she was saying. ‘I’ll send some more. Bye for now.’ She turned to Marcel. ‘Can I use your computer?’

      ‘Be my guest.’

      She was online in a moment, accessing her bank account. Marcel had the impression that she’d forgotten his existence. Totally absorbed, she was trying to transfer a large amount out of her account, into another one. But only trying. The bank refused, saying it would take her over her limit.

      ‘Oh, no!’ she said frantically.

      ‘Look, I don’t want to pry, but if this man is extorting money from you, then you need help,’ Marcel told her. She looked up as if wondering why he was there. ‘Extorting—?’

      ‘Why are you giving him money? Especially money that you clearly can’t afford.’

      ‘Dave’s married to my sister Laura. They have a lot of financial problems, and I try to help them out.’

      ‘He’s … your brother-in-law?’ he echoed, astounded.

      ‘Yes, why do you sound so disbelieving?’

      He couldn’t have told her. It would take time to come to terms with the thoughts whirling chaotically in his head. All he knew was that somewhere the sun had come out.

      ‘He didn’t sound like a brother-in-law,’ he said lamely.

      ‘I know. He sounds like a needy child because that’s what he is,’ she said grimly. ‘Also they have a little girl who needs a lot of care, so Laura can’t take a job. Now, if you’d just give me a moment—’

      ‘Well, I won’t. Move over.’

      She was forced to yield and let him get to the computer, where he accessed his own bank account in Paris, ordering them to transfer a sum of money to her.

      ‘You’ll have to fill in the details of your account,’ he said.

      She did so, too bewildered to argue, and in a moment it was done.

      ‘Now, you just give the money to Dave and it’s finished,’ Marcel said.

      ‘Actually, I give it to Laura. That way the bills get paid. He’d just be off down the pub.’

      The contempt in her voice was plain. With more relief than he cared to admit, Marcel realised that Dave didn’t have the place in her life that he’d suspected.

      Dreaded?

      ‘Thank you,’ she said as she completed the transaction. ‘I don’t know how to—’

      ‘Let’s be clear. I’ve come to your aid for entirely selfish reasons. I want your whole attention and I won’t get it if you’re worried about money.’

      ‘But you gave me so much.’

      ‘Three months’ wages in advance. Now you’ll have to work for me whether you want to or not.’ ‘I’ve already said I will.’

      ‘Yes, but you might have changed your mind.’ His lips twisted. ‘It’s my opinion that women are notoriously unreliable about sticking to their word. So I’ve taken you prisoner. I’m sorry if you object.’

      ‘I don’t. I’m grateful. Laura needs all the help she can get.’

      ‘By help you mean cash. Is that why you live in that shabby little dump?’

      ‘What would you expect? Should I be revelling in the lap of luxury?’

      It took him a moment to reply and she had the satisfying feeling that she’d caught him off-guard.

      ‘I wouldn’t know, would I?’ he asked at last.

      ‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘How could you?’

      ‘I think we both need a good stiff drink and a large meal,’ he said. ‘The best restaurant seems to be the one on the roof, and so let’s head up there.’

      The restaurant had two halves, one with a glass roof, one with no roof at all. As the weather was clement they settled here with a magnificent view over London. In the distance the setting sun blazed crimson as it drifted slowly down the sky.

      ‘It’s like watching a fire that you don’t have to be afraid of,’ she said in wonder.

      ‘Is there such a thing as a fire you need not fear?’ he asked.

      He spoke lightly, even casually, but she thought she sensed tension beneath the tone.

      Only because you’re listening for it, said her inner voice sternly. Be careful of getting paranoid.

      ‘What did you say?’ Marcel asked.

      ‘Nothing, I—’

      ‘It sounded like, “Sometimes paranoid is best.”’

      ‘Nonsense.’ She laughed edgily. ‘I didn’t say anything.’

      ‘I thought you did. Ah, here’s the waiter. Time for a celebratory supper.’

      He ordered the best of everything, including champagne and caviar, seeking her opinion, deferring to her as if she were a queen.

      Until


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