In Bed with Her Ex: Miss Prim and the Billionaire / Mardie and the City Surgeon / The Boy is Back in Town. Marion Lennox
to me, won’t you?’ he’d say, and she would yield to the night that followed, trying not to show her revulsion. What Jake called ‘love-making’ was so horribly different to what she had known with Marcel that it came from another universe, one where she had to endure being slobbered over and violated.
At first she tried to pretend that she was back in the arms of her true love, but the contrast was so cruel that she gave it up in sheer self-defence. Otherwise she would have genuinely gone mad.
It was almost a relief to become pregnant, and have an excuse to banish Jake from her bed. Slightly to her surprise he accepted her decision without argument. At the thought of producing the next generation his sentimental streak was asserting itself again, and he withdrew to protect her.
And now she could at least feel that life held out some hope for her. She would have a child to love, a purpose in life.
But after five months she miscarried. No doctor could tell her why. There had been no accident, no trauma. It had simply happened, leaving her staring into a blank future.
Hope came from an unexpected source. By chance she discovered that Jake had been playing around.
‘It’s not my fault,’ he defended himself. ‘It’s months since we could … well, it’ll be different now.’
‘Yes, it’s going to be different,’ she agreed. ‘I’m divorcing you.’
His howls of protest left her unmoved, and so did his threats.
‘If you want to destroy me, Jake, go ahead. What do you think is left to destroy? Do your worst. I don’t care.’
Perhaps it was the thought of how many of his disreputable secrets she’d learned that warned him to be cautious. But something made him cave in. Before he could change his mind she hurled back at him every expensive gift he’d ever given her, including the engagement ring. Then she moved out the same day.
He made one last attempt to persuade her to remain his wife. When that failed he tried to get her to accept a financial settlement.
She agreed to very little for the sake of her family, but took nothing for herself. ‘If I live off your money you’ll still think you control me,’ she told him. ‘And I want to forget that you ever existed.’
He paled. ‘You’re breaking my heart,’ he choked.
And he meant it, she thought afterwards. Oddly enough, this unpleasant man had a heart to break, where she was concerned.
But it left her untouched. She no longer feared him. All she felt was a heady sensation of power at having brought him down.
She rejected his name, calling herself Henshaw because it had been her mother’s maiden name, and using the ‘Mrs’ because she thought it made her sound older and more serious.
Refusing to live off Jake’s money satisfied her but left her penniless. There was no chance of returning to modelling, even if she’d wanted to. Most people would still have called her beautiful, but she felt her magic ‘something’ had vanished for ever. She’d taken any menial job she could get, using her free time to go to evening classes, studying business to the point of exhaustion. She’d emerged triumphant, going to work in a bank and climbing fast. She had never looked back.
Now she was near the top of the tree, trying to believe it had all been worth it.
But as she looked back at Marcel, sitting quietly, watching her, she was filled with such a rush of hostility that she could have struck him down and enjoyed doing it.
You could have saved me, she thought. If I’d known who you really were I’d have appealed to your father, and everything could have been different. Oh, why weren’t you honest with me? You could have saved me from Jake, from that terrible marriage, losing my child. You could have stopped me turning into a heartless robot, but when it happened I had nowhere to turn. Damn you!
‘What’s the matter?’ Marcel asked, rising and coming beside her. ‘You look upset.’
‘Not at all,’ she said brightly. ‘I was just enjoying the view and the fresh air.’
‘Come away from the ledge.’ He led her firmly back to the table and stood over her until she was seated.
‘Go on telling me about your life,’ he said. ‘What happened to your husband? Did you walk out on him?’
Like I did with you, you mean? she thought ironically. That’s what you’re thinking right now, although you won’t come out and say so.
‘Yes, I left him,’ she said. ‘But only because he was sleeping with someone else.’
Let’s see what you make of that! If you want revenge I’ve just given it to you. But is that what you want? If only I knew.
‘I hope he made some financial provision for you,’ Marcel said politely.
‘I wouldn’t let him. It would have given him a hold on me, and no man has that. Ever.’
‘When you finish with a man you really finish with him,’ he murmured.
‘It’s the only way.’ She gave a sharp, defiant laugh. ‘When I’ve finished with him, he no longer exists.’ ‘No looking back?’
‘Looking back is scary,’ she whispered. ‘It fills you with hate and makes you want to do things that you know you shouldn’t, so then the person you hate is yourself.’
She didn’t look at him as she said it. She didn’t dare. And his reply was so soft that another person might have missed it. But she was alive to everything about him, and she heard the quiet words with their ominous warning.
‘That’s very true.’
She glanced at him just in time to meet his eyes, but not in time to read their expression before he looked away. She waited, hoping that he would turn back to her and they might even find a way to talk. But his eyes were fixed on the distance and the silence between them was as deafening as a roar.
All around them the lights were sparkling, arranged in arches by the walls, with dainty lamps near the tables.
The atmosphere on the roof had changed, grown softer, sentimental. This was a place for romantic trysts, with lovers’ eyes meeting over the rims of wine glasses. Here there should be smiles of heartfelt understanding, unspoken promises of love. It was a world apart and anyone who did not belong in that world had no right to be here.
I don’t belong, she thought wearily. I did once. Not any more.
Nearby was a couple sitting close together. The man was middle-aged and heavy. The girl was about twenty, gorgeous and flaunting it. She might have been the young Cassie.
‘I guess there’s no point in me trying to talk to him tonight,’ said a male voice nearby. ‘Sorry,’ he added hastily, as Marcel and Cassie turned to look at him. ‘It’s just that I’d planned to talk business with that fellow.’
Marcel grinned. ‘No chance now.’
‘We should never have agreed to meet here. Too many good-time girls as a distraction. I gather this place is known for it. Everywhere you look there’s a lush female trying to seduce a man into parting from his money.’ He seemed to become aware of Cassie and hastily added, ‘Forgive me. Not you, of course!’
‘Of course,’ she said.
‘I mean you’re obviously a very … sensible … businesslike woman, and I didn’t mean to insult you.’
She regarded him with ironic humour. ‘You mean it’s quite impossible that I could ever lead a man down dark and dangerous paths? Some women would be more insulted by that than the other.’
‘Look I … put my foot in it. I apologise.’
He retreated in a flurry of embarrassment.
‘Well,