His Untamed Innocent. Sara Craven

His Untamed Innocent - Sara Craven


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always had a break after lunch, so the following afternoon I’d just got back from a swim when he, Greg, turned up. Said he wanted to have a look at the place and make sure the builders had done their job properly.

      ‘I didn’t want to let him in, but I couldn’t very well refuse. So he wandered round, peering at the window frames and examining all the kitchen and bathroom fittings.’

      She flushed. ‘And he went into my room, which was awful, because the clothes I’d taken off earlier were on the bed, including my underwear. And he looked at me and grinned, and made some remark about me being untidy but that he wouldn’t report me to the boss—this time.’

      ‘I see.’ Lynne’s tone was grim. ‘And when did this charmer make his move? Right then and there?’

      Marin finished the beans and pushed the colander to one side. ‘No. But I could feel him watching me all the time. I never gave him the least encouragement—I swear it.’

      She took a deep breath. ‘Then, a few days ago, Adela announced after lunch that she was driving to the supermarché. I—I thought he’d gone with her, so I went for my usual swim.’

      She shuddered. ‘When I went back to the flat, he was waiting for me in the bedroom. He said “Alone at last,” and called me “sweet pea”. I told him to get out, but he pushed me down on to the bed and started trying to undo my bikini top and kiss me at the same time. I—I realised he’d unzipped his trousers.

      ‘I was struggling and trying so hard to scream that, when it started, for one crazy moment I thought it was actually me. Then Greg let me go, and I saw Adela standing in the doorway with her mouth open, making these dreadful sounds.

      ‘I can remember thinking, “Oh, poor thing. She’ll never forgive him for this.” Then he got up and fastened his trousers, and started accusing me. Said I’d asked him over because the shower wasn’t working properly and started flirting with him, but he’d thought it was a joke until I undid his zip, and said, “She’s shopping. We’re safe”. And pulled him down on to the bed.

      ‘He said I’d been coming on to him from the day he arrived, that I’d asked him to guess the colour of my underwear and then shown him it was white with pink roses.

      ‘He said, “For God’s sake, Del, look at her. She’s no bloody oil painting. Who the hell would want to start anything with such a pathetic little object?”

      ‘He said he hadn’t told her about it because he felt sorry for me. He just never believed I’d go this far.’

      Lynne gasped. ‘Didn’t you tell her what really happened?’ she demanded.

      Marin closed her eyes. ‘I tried, but she didn’t want to know. He’d got his story in first, and she believed him.

      ‘Meanwhile, Adela was calling me foul names—“skinny little tart” being the most repeatable—and at one point I thought she was going to hit me, but by then Greg seemed to be in control because he stopped her. Said I wasn’t worth it, and she should just get rid of me.’

      She lifted her chin. ‘So that’s exactly what she did. I had to pack and get out. I’d have been stuck down there in the middle of nowhere but for Cecile, the housekeeper, who brought me some supper and told me her nephew would take me to Toulouse in his lorry first thing next morning if I wanted. I gathered that I hadn’t been Greg’s only victim.

      ‘At Toulouse, I got on a flight thanks to a no-show, and here I am,’ she added, trying a smile which collapsed.

      Lynne said quietly, ‘Bastard! Complete and utter bastard! And let’s hope La Mason’s next book’s a stinker.’

      She was equally upbeat about Marin’s future prospects over supper.

      ‘Up to this point you’ve had clients singing your praises. And if the worst happens you can stay on here while you’re job-hunting.’ She paused. ‘I’ll have to clear it with Rad, of course, as it’s his flat and he’s letting me camp here as a favour. However, there shouldn’t be a problem.’

      Marin hastily swallowed some chicken and was about to say, ‘Actually…’

      But Lynne was going on, ‘Of course, I won’t be here myself for much longer. Mike and I are starting to look for a flat to buy next week.’ Her sudden smile was rapt and tender. ‘We’re planning the wedding for next year, and you have to be bridesmaid.’

      She paused, frowning a little. ‘And I shall also have to find my successor and train her up.’

      ‘You’re going to leave the agency?’

      ‘Not immediately. But a married assistant will never do for Rad. He requires total commitment, and my priority is going to be Mike.’ She cut herself another sliver of pie. ‘I know you weren’t keen a couple of years back,’ she added thoughtfully, ‘But you might consider working for Rad yourself, if push comes to shove.’

      Marin drew a deep breath, telling herself that she had to break the news at some point. ‘Oddly enough,’ she said, trying to sound casual, ‘I’m doing precisely that—in a manner of speaking.’

      There was a silence, then Lynne put down her knife and fork, her eyes narrowing. ‘Explain,’ she said. ‘Speaking in a manner I can understand.’

      Marin considered and rejected a number of openings, and was left with the unvarnished truth.

      She said baldly, ‘He’s hired me to be his girlfriend.’

      She saw Lynne’s expression turn to horror and added hastily. ‘Well, pretend to be, anyway. He needed someone to take to a party. His real girlfriend couldn’t go, and you were away, so he picked me.’

      ‘Then he can just unpick you again,’ Lynne said grimly. ‘And I shall tell him so. When is this party?’

      Marin bit her lip. ‘Last Friday.’

      Lynne closed her eyes. ‘Dear God.’

      ‘No, it’s all right,’ Marin assured her. ‘It was business. It was fine. Nothing happened.’

      Give or take a kiss, she thought uncomfortably, the memory of his arm around me and the warmth of him near me.

      ‘Fine?’ Lynne echoed derisively. ‘After what’s just happened in France?’ She snorted. ‘I’d say it’s out of the frying pan into a very hot fire. Oh God, I could murder Rad for this.’

      ‘If you really want to kill someone,’ Marin said, ‘Try a woman called Diana Halsay.’

      There was a silence, then Lynne said wearily, ‘Oh, bloody hell. Just when you think it’s safe to go back in the water…’ She sighed. ‘I thought she’d finally abandoned the chase where Rad was concerned.’

      ‘She has, in a way.’ Marin pushed away her empty plate. ‘Now she’s trying to convince her husband that Ja…’ She swallowed. ‘That Mr Radley-Smith is chasing her instead.’

      ‘So that the agency loses the Torchbearer business,’ Lynne said grimly. ‘My word, she must want her revenge very badly.’ She looked at Marin. ‘And, of course, Friday was the Torchbearer reception. It’s been in the diary for weeks. I should have remembered.’

      She paused. ‘But I assumed Jake would be taking Celia Forrest.’

      ‘She was ill.’

      ‘I don’t doubt it.’ Lynne pulled a face. ‘A condition brought on, no doubt, by the realisation that her application for the post of Mrs Radley-Smith, like so many others, has not been successful. She added cynically, ‘But she’ll get over it. One of his girlfriends told me that falling for Jake was rather like catching a virus—except that it was much easier to recover from once you’d got out of bed.’

      Marin’s face warmed. She said, ‘I can’t imagine why any woman would want him. He’s far too fond of his own way.’

      Lynne gave


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