A Passionate Affair: The Passionate Husband / The Italian's Passion / A Latin Passion
‘Of course you should.’ Marsha squeezed the other woman’s hand one last time before settling back into the taxi. ‘We’re friends, and friends are always there for each other, whatever’s happened.’
Susan shut the taxi door without saying anything more. As the vehicle drew away Marsha waved, but the other woman barely responded, although just as they turned the corner out of sight Taylor’s sister was still standing at the bottom of the drive, staring after the car.
Marsha shut her eyes, letting out her breath in a deep sigh. So much for hope. She had been stupid to think Susan would say anything other than what she had eighteen months before. She didn’t know why she had come now. As she’d told Nicki, Susan was Taylor’s sister and she loved her brother devotedly. It must have been a real battle of divided loyalties for her.
She had to accept that it was really over, that there weren’t any Prince Charmings left in the world who would ride in on their valiant steeds and rescue the fair maiden from whatever assailed her. Real life was different; people were different. People like her mother, her best friend. People like Taylor.
But she had thought he was special. It was the cry of a child in her heart. He had made her believe in happy ever after and that wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. She had thought they would create their own family—not straight away, but in time. A family that would be a secure unit, strong, and who would do anything for each other. She didn’t want to be alone the rest of her life.
No snivelling.
The voice in her head brought her up sharp, and she answered it by sitting up straight.
‘All right, love?’
She became aware of the taxi driver’s eyes on her in his mirror and she nodded quickly. ‘Yes, thank you.’
‘Only you look a bit under the weather, if you don’t mind me saying so.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Course, there’s a lot of this flu about, you know. The wife went down with it a couple of weeks ago, and two of the kids are off school now. Mind, I reckon the little ’un is playing the wag. Don’t like school, the little ’un.’
Marsha nodded, trying to be polite but wishing he would just drive the cab.
He must have got the message, because thankfully the rest of the journey progressed in silence.
She had rung Jeff at home first thing that morning, explaining that something unexpected had come up and she would like to take a day’s holiday, if that was possible. ‘Problems?’ he had asked, and when she’d merely replied that they were personal ones he’d told her there was no need to use up any holiday time but, depending on how long it took to get things sorted, he would appreciate even an hour or two at the end of the day if she were able.
She found she was glad of this now. Her job was hectic and demanding, but that was exactly what she needed. The thought of going home to the empty bedsit filled her with dread. She would get to the office just before lunchtime and make sure she did not leave until she was too exhausted to do another minute. That way she might be able to sleep when she got home. Tomorrow was another day and she would think about everything then. For now it was enough to get through with her emotions so lacerated.
She had been an idiot when Taylor had called this morning. She had underestimated her own strength to resist him, but she wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Her hands bunched together as she remembered their embraces, her cheeks flushing with humiliation at how easily he had beguiled her. From now on he could threaten to wake the whole street and she would not let him in. But it wouldn’t come to that anyway. Tomorrow she would arrange to meet him somewhere anonymous, a wine bar or something similar, and she would make it abundantly clear the divorce was going through come hell or high water.
She caught her breath as her heart twisted. Behind her closed eyelids she could picture him on the screen of her mind. His long lean tanned body as it had looked that morning, the broad muscled chest, flat stomach and hard powerful thighs, his hands—brown and long-fingered—and his mouth. Oh, his mouth… Sensuous, coaxing, possessing the power to send her delirious with desire. How was she going to manage without him? How would she ever get through the rest of her life, knowing he was in the world—walking, eating, breathing, loving—but not with her?
Stop it. She opened her eyes with a snap, furious at herself. She had got by the last eighteen months and she would do so again. Taylor Kane was not the be all and end all; she had to remember that. He might be fascinating and sexy and tender and magnetic, but he was also ruthless and arrogant and hard when it suited him. The same qualities that drew her to him drew other women, and she wasn’t about to live her life ruled by jealousy, eaten up by it. This had to be a clean sharp cut which severed any fragile links still hanging between them.
She turned her head to gaze unseeing out of the window. Of course she would always love him, always carry a thousand regrets for what might have been, but she mustn’t let him know that. She had thought she would grow old with him, loving him and being loved in return, but it wasn’t to be. There would be no babies, no little Taylors with dark hair and tawny eyes…
Again she jerked herself out of her thoughts by sheer will-power. She must not let her mind stray for one moment. She had to keep absolute control over herself or she would end up a gibbering idiot! She had made the only decision she could eighteen months ago and nothing had changed. She couldn’t spend her life wondering when he would tire of her completely, when one of his other women would capture his heart, mind and soul. Living alone for the rest of her life would be preferable to that.
The thought mocked her, especially because, having seen him again, she wasn’t sure if it was true. If she thought there was a chance she might hold him she would take it.
But not at the cost of your own soul. She sat up straighter, her mouth setting in a grim line. And that was what it boiled down to. She wouldn’t let herself become a victim, the sort of woman who put up with intolerable indignities in the name of love.
‘Here we are, miss.’
As the taxi drew up outside the TV building Marsha scrambled out, giving the man a handsome tip to make up for being such an uncommunicative passenger.
She had made a life for herself and it was a good one. It was. It would have to be enough.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘MARSHA. I didn’t expect you today.’
Nicki beamed at her as she walked into the office, which was a slight balm to her sore feelings. At least her secretary liked her, she thought with a heavy dose of self-pity which she wasn’t about to apologise for in the slightest. ‘I sorted things out quicker than I expected,’ she said quietly.
‘Sorted things out?’ Nicki frowned. ‘Jeff said you’d come back to work yesterday too quickly and weren’t feeling great again today.’
Bless him. Marsha felt a brief warm glow in the leaden ball of her stomach. People could be so nice on occasion. ‘Well, I’ll stick to that officially, then. Unofficially—’ she bent down closer ‘—I took your advice and went to see Taylor’s sister.’ She wasn’t about to tell even Nicki of the early-morning breakfast scenario.
‘And?’
‘Nothing. She was very sweet and very upset, but that’s all. The truth is the truth when all’s said and done.’
‘Pants.’
‘Quite.’
Marsha seated herself at her desk and pulled a wad of papers in front of her. There was nothing more to be said.
When Nicki brought back half the canteen’s stock of food at lunchtime Marsha ate a rather pitiable-looking ham sandwich and apple at her desk, but she had to force the food down. Jeff had popped his head out just after she had got into the office, declaring himself immensely pleased to see her, after which he had deposited a slim file in front of her, ordering her to stop all other work immediately. Marsha was not fooled by the width of the file. Thinking up ideas for new and interesting programmes was testing enough, but often necessitated a minimum of paperwork. Translating the idea into a programme within a budget, often with the impending broadcasting date just ahead, was the really hard work. After glancing through the paperwork she knew she would be working all over the weekend.
She had just returned to her desk, after a visit to the studio where the programme would be shot, and was immersed in a wad of possible facts and figures when Nicki leapt in front of her. ‘Could you sign this please?’ she said loudly, adding in a low hiss, ‘Penelope and him are in the corridor outside.’
Marsha’s stomach curled, but she had the presence of mind to keep her head down as she reached for the blank piece of paper Nicki had thrust on her desk.
Every nerve-end prickling, she waited for the door to open. She wasn’t disappointed. Penelope sailed in first, in a cloud of cloying perfume, her tone pre-emptive as she said, ‘He’s in, I take it?’ and made for Jeff’s door.
‘Just a moment, Miss Pelham.’ Marsha was on her feet and in front of Jeff’s door quicker than a dose of salts. She ignored the dark figure behind the other woman as she said, ‘If you would like to take a seat, I’ll just check Mr North is free.’
Penelope halted, swirling on her high heels as she said to Taylor, ‘Really!’ But she didn’t press her case, knowing full well it was exactly how she would have expected her second in command to have acted.
Marsha knocked on Jeff’s door, slipping inside and closing it again before she said evenly, ‘Miss Pelham and Mr Kane are outside.’
‘What?’ Jeff had been deep in an intricate and soaring budget which had been giving him a headache for days, but as her words registered his eyes cleared. He disliked Penelope every bit as much as he liked Marsha, and he thought this Kane fellow needed his head testing. He didn’t know what had gone on in the marriage—it might have been six of one and half a dozen of the other, though he doubted it—but for the guy to rub Marsha’s nose in it with Penelope was downright cruel. And he had a pretty good idea what the ‘personal business’ Marsha had spoken about earlier involved. ‘You okay?’ he said softly.
Marsha put out her hand, turning it from side to side as she said, ‘So, so,’ her smile shaky.
‘You know you’re far too good for that bozo, don’t you? Let Penelope get her claws into him for a while. He’ll soon wish he’d never been born.’
Marsha’s smile was more natural this time. ‘Thanks, Jeff. I’ll show them in, shall I?’
He nodded. ‘And get Nicki to bring some coffee in, would you? Penelope takes hers with arsenic.’
‘Oh, Jeff.’ The kindness was a little too much, coming at a time when her composure was fragile to say the least. As the smile wobbled and her bottom lip trembled Jeff was round his desk in a shot.
‘Hey, come on. No guy is worth your tears. Now, then—there’s plenty out there who would give their right arm to be with you.’
He put a comforting arm round her shoulders, digging in his pocket for a crisp white handkerchief with the other. He handed it to her with a wry smile. ‘Chin up,’ he said gently. ‘Don’t give either of them the satisfaction of seeing this bothers you.’
‘I’ll try.’
‘That’s my girl.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. Are we interrupting anything?’ Penelope’s cool voice from the doorway brought Marsha’s blonde head and Jeff’s brown one swinging round as though connected by the same cord.
Neither of them had heard the door open, but Penelope was standing staring at them, her eyes aglow, with Taylor filling the space behind her. Marsha gave an inward groan, but to give Jeff his due he maintained the stance for a second or so more, removing his arm from her shoulders almost leisurely as he said, ‘We’ll talk later, Marsha. Okay? Now, perhaps if you’d like to get Nicki organising that coffee…?’
‘Certainly.’ Taking her cue from Jeff, she raised her chin, speaking to the two in the doorway but keeping her eyes on Penelope’s feline face as she said, ‘If you’d like to take a seat?’
She let them come into the room before she made any effort to pass them, but even though she didn’t glance at Taylor she could sense the dark waves emanating from the tall figure. Just as she shut the door she heard Penelope say in an overt whisper, ‘Jeff, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I thought Marsha was merely announcing us. If we’ve embarrassed you in any way…’
She might have known Penelope would turn the knife a little. Marsha took a deep pull of air as she stood outside the closed door, staring across the office.
‘I couldn’t stop her, Marsha.’ Nicki was standing by her desk, her plump face agitated. ‘She muttered something about she wasn’t going to be kept waiting for anyone, and then just opened the door before I realised what she was doing.’
‘Don’t worry, Nicki, it wasn’t your fault.’ Marsha’s voice was soothing, but she was working on automatic.
What on earth had it looked like in there to Taylor? She imagined their stance from his eyes. Nothing short of a clinch, that was what. Rats! She walked across to her desk, her tone preoccupied as she said, ‘They want coffee, please, Nicki.’
As the other woman bustled off Marsha gazed down at the papers on her desk, but she wasn’t seeing the figures in front of her. This was all she needed! Damn Penelope. It wouldn’t make any difference that it was well-known Jeff was madly in love with his wife and a devoted family man; Penelope would have her last pound of flesh with this one.
She wrestled with what she could do or say until Nicki returned with the coffee, but once her secretary was seated at her desk again Marsha told herself she had to clear her mind and concentrate on the job in hand. She had very little time to organise everything, and all the agonising in the world couldn’t turn back time. Taylor would have to think what he liked, and if any gossip started circulating Jeff was the sort of person who would nip it in the bud, Penelope or no Penelope.
It was only ten minutes later when the interjoining door opened, and although Marsha’s stomach turned over she deliberately took her time about raising her eyes, keeping her expression calm and serene.
‘I need to talk to you.’ Taylor had stopped by her desk, Penelope by his side, and Marsha thought the other woman would burst a blood vessel when he turned his head, saying, ‘I’ll be along shortly, Penelope.’
‘Fine, fine.’ It was an immediate recovery, but Penelope was good at those.
Jeff, too, had paused, and now he said, ‘We’re going along to discuss a few items in this proposal with Tim. Can you cope here, Marsha?’
He was asking about more than the office and they were all aware of it. Marsha nodded, her voice steady as she said, ‘Of course, but don’t forget your appointment at four o’clock.’
‘I won’t.’
As Penelope and Jeff left Marsha turned to Nicki, who was all agog whilst pretending to work. ‘I’m going to be here late tonight, Nicki. Could you pop down to the canteen and get something for my tea? A salad or sandwiches will do—something like that. I’ll settle up with you when you come back.’
‘Sure.’ Nicki rose immediately, but not before she had given Taylor the once-over, her face unmistakably hostile.
It was Taylor who spoke first when they were alone. He perched on the edge of her desk, bringing well-cut trousers tight over hard male thighs as he said, ‘She doesn’t like me.’
‘What?’ It hadn’t been what she’d expected.
‘Your secretary. She doesn’t like me.’
‘Well, there has to be the odd female or two who are immune to your charms, surely?’ Marsha said with a lightness she was proud of, considering the circumstances.
He eyed her steadily. ‘Like to explain what that—’ he indicated the office behind him with a jerk of his head ‘—was all about?’
A hundred sharp rejoinders burned on her tongue, but she didn’t voice any of them. She stared at him for a moment or two, as though his words were taking time to filter through. ‘I assume by “that” you mean the friendly arm round the shoulders?’
‘Is that what it was?’
‘Jeff is very happily married with two children. He is also a very nice man, who is a friend as well as my boss.’
Dark eyebrows rose. ‘I’ve known several very happily married men who have the family-man image down to a fine art and also an obliging mistress on the side,’ he said coolly.
‘I don’t doubt for a minute you are acquainted with that side of life,’ she shot back tightly, ‘but Jeff isn’t.’
He shifted slightly and her senses went haywire. His suit jacket was open, revealing a crisp white shirt and a patterned navy tie, and as she watched he undid the first two or three buttons of the shirt, pulling his tie loose. It was a perfectly ordinary action and there was no call for the rush of sexual tension that sent electricity into each nerve and sinew.
‘Penelope informs me you got this job on Jeff’s recommendation.’ He was still speaking in the conversational tone he had employed since he had left Jeff’s office, but Marsha had lived with him too long not to know that he was the master of control and an expert in giving nothing away.
‘I met him briefly when I was working for a different company before we were married,’ she said, in a tone which stated that all this was none of his business. ‘When I applied for the job here he recognised me. That’s all.’
‘And he made sure you got the position under him.’
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