Marrying Marcus. Laurey Bright

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СКАЧАТЬ “Well, that’s a relief,” she said. For a long second her eyes rested thoughtfully on her friend, before she began stacking cups and saucers in the dishwasher.

      Jenna and Marcus finished their coffee, and all three of them rejoined the others. Neighbors dropped in to say hello, and a cousin phoned inquiring after the traveler. Dean invited her and her parents and boyfriend to come over.

      A party atmosphere developed. Some of the guests sat out on the tiled patio, and children were allowed to jump in the swimming pool in its fenced enclosure at the back of the house. Jenna talked and laughed and even conducted a conversation with Callie and Dean, finding that Callie was exactly what she looked like, a golden California girl. She’d been studying at the same university as Dean, although they had met only a few months ago.

      “And when he opened his mouth and I heard that cute accent,” Callie confessed, her hand caressing Dean’s arm, “it was love at first sound.”

      “She thought I was Australian,” Dean teased, grinning adoringly at her. “I had to educate her about the difference between Kiwis and Aussies.”

      “It took him all night.” Callie swept him a flirtatious look.

      “Slow learner.” Dean shook his head, returning the look.

      Jenna’s smile felt set in concrete. She didn’t think the two of them would have noticed if everyone else in the room had disappeared in a puff of smoke.

      Marcus laid a hand lightly on Jenna’s shoulder. “Dad says you haven’t seen his latest acquisition,” he said. “He wants me to show it to you.”

      Gratefully she followed Marcus to the back lawn, where a shade house was tucked into a corner screened by pink-flowered manuka shrubs. Mr. Crossan was a keen amateur orchid grower, and when Marcus ushered her into the shade house, they were surrounded by pots and hanging baskets of the exotic, distinctive flowers.

      The air was cool here, and the bark chips that covered the ground muffled their footsteps. A damp rich smell pervaded the glassed-in area.

      Jenna walked along the narrow space between the tiered benches holding rows of orchids, many of them smothered in blossom. Delicate, spidery varieties and large opulent ones were ranged along both sides, the flowers spilling over their pots, some almost to the ground. “Which one are we looking at?”

      “The pink one over here.” He guided her to it with a hand lightly on her waist and stood behind her as she studied the pale, frilled blooms, flushed with gold at the throat.

      Tentatively she touched a fingertip to a delicate petal. “It’s very pretty.”

      “It’s called Puppy Love,” Marcus told her, slanting her a rather dry sideways glance. “Personally I prefer the more sophisticated varieties.”

      Staring down at the plant, Jenna blinked away tears. Puppy Love. A fragile flower. And though orchids lasted longer than other flowers, there came a time when they too withered away and died.

      She turned away from it, and Marcus moved to let her pass him, returning along the row. “We needn’t hurry back.” He strolled after her, hands in his pockets. “No one will miss us for a while.”

      No one would miss Jenna. Self-pity threatened to overwhelm her. But they’d miss Marcus for sure. Marcus was a dominant figure in any gathering, not only because of his height. There was a quiet air of confidence and authority about him that even his family acknowledged.

      Maybe it came from being the eldest. Jane was nearly his own age, but having two much younger, mischievous siblings might have given him an exaggerated sense of responsibility.

      She halted before a plant exploding with extravagant bronze blooms. They blurred before her eyes, and she bit down fiercely on her lower lip, squeezing her eyes shut, taking a long, deep breath.

      Marcus said, “One of Dad’s prizewinners. Magnificent, isn’t it?”

      “Yes.” Her voice was husky, but his casual tone steadied her. “What…what’s it called, do you know?”

      “The name should be on a marker in the pot.” Marcus leaned across to part some spiky leaves, and his sleeve brushed her arm. “Dark Delight.”

      As he drew back he slanted her a swift glance, and his hand briefly rested on the skin of her arm, a comforting caress. His breath stirring her hair, he said, “It will get better, you know. Hard to believe right now, maybe, but I promise you it’s true.”

      She gripped the edge of the bench in front of her. “I don’t want your sympathy, Marcus.” It would be too easy to turn and let him take her in his strong arms and hold her while she wept out her bewilderment and heartache. She had to get through this day without cracking, in order to keep her pride, at least, intact.

      “Sorry.” As far as the space would allow, he moved away from her.

      “I didn’t mean to seem ungrateful.”

      “I’m not looking for gratitude, Jenna.”

      “You’ve been awfully kind.” She blinked the tears away and managed to face him.

      A strange expression crossed his hard features, almost as if he shared her pain. He lifted a hand, and his thumb wiped an escaped salty droplet from her cheek. “It will soon be over.” His thumb strayed to her abused lower lip, where she had bitten into it. Unexpectedly he dipped his head and pressed his firm mouth gently to hers.

      Chapter Three

      It lasted only a second, but a faint warmth seeped into her cold heart, and when he stepped back, saying, “Can you stand to go back inside?” she nodded, feeling somehow stronger, braced for the fray.

      Jenna helped Katie and her mother rustle up an impromptu meal. Some visitors had drifted away, but there was quite a crowd around the big table in the spacious dining room, and Jenna’s lack of conversation went unnoticed. Marcus took a seat next to her, shielding her from Callie and Dean on his other side.

      After the dishes were disposed of, Marcus found Jenna hanging up a tea towel in the kitchen, carefully straightening the edges. “Anytime you want,” he said, “we can go.”

      Thankfully she took the hint. Steeling herself, she parried Katie’s suspicious surprise that she’d decided to go home after all, using the excuse that this was a family occasion, and repeated her congratulations to Dean and Callie.

      Within minutes she was releasing a sigh of relief as she fastened her safety belt.

      Marcus started the car and edged out of the driveway. “You can let go now, if you want,” he said.

      Cry, she supposed he meant.

      Although she’d been fighting tears for hours, now the urge to weep had left her altogether. She sat dry-eyed and silent beside Marcus all the way back to the city. The sunlight dancing on the water of the west harbor as they sped alongside it seemed to mock her bleak mood of despair.

      Leaving the high speed zone, Marcus glanced at her as he eased off the accelerator. “Will you be all right on your own?”

      “I won’t slit my wrists,” СКАЧАТЬ