Accidental Engagement (11 page)

‘Only what I’ve heard,’ said Roger with a slight frown, seemingly puzzled at Mark’s attitude. And then it hit him. ‘So
that’s
why you’re looking so happy,’ he said. ‘That’s why you’ve let her
stay. You’ve
fallen for her.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Mark stood up.

‘There’s no other explanation,’ said Roger with a grin. ‘You’d be bristling with suspicion if you hadn’t.’

‘There’s nothing to be suspicious of,’ Mark snapped.

Roger’s eyes opened wide in astonishment. ‘Nothing to be suspicious of? You
have
got it bad! She faked a car crash
—
’

‘Car’s have crashed on that corner before
—
’

‘—
and she’s a concert pianist -’

‘Who says so? She’s good, but at that level? I don’t know. I’m not musical enough to know. And neither is anyone else who’s heard her play.
’

‘She’s pretending to be a fiancée you don’t have
—
’ persisted Roger.

‘She’s lost her memory. For all she knows she
is
my fiancée. After all, that’s what she’s been told.’ He was defending her fiercely, although Roger had done nothing but voice the suspicions he himself had had.
Had
had, he realised. Because suddenly the little things that had niggled him, the things he had tried to push to the back of his mind - the things she had said and done that hadn’t fitted in with the idea that she was an adventuress -
had taken on more solid form. He found that he no longer knew what he really believed. Suspicion had governed most of his adult life, and had all but taken him over - at least as far as women were concerned - ever since his experiences with Janine. But for the first time in years he had met someone he felt he could truly trust, no matter how strange the situation. And not only someone he could trust. Someone he could respect. He remembered the way she had looked after Emmy when she had been unwell, and helped Claire look after the house. Yes, he trusted her and respected her, and as if that wasn’t enough he was far more comfortable with her than he had ever been with anyone in his life. He wanted to protect her, look after her . . . and make love to her. Oh, yes
, he wanted to make love to her,
so badly it hurt. She was the most tantalising woman he had ever met. In Anna he had met his soul mate, and whilst his mind told him to listen to Roger, his instincts told him to defend her.

‘You’re determined to stand up for her.’ Roger’s voice broke in on his thoughts.

‘And why shouldn’t I? She doesn’t have anyone else.’

‘Is that what you see in her - her vulnerability?’ asked Roger curiously.

Mark was about to deny that he saw anything in her, but suddenly there didn’t seem to be any point. He let out a sigh. It was a rush of long pent-up emotion. He shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’

Seeing how deeply Mark felt, Roger let up. ‘Look, it may be that you’re right. Perhaps she is someone who just crashed outside. After all, it wouldn’t have been easy for her to fool them at the hospital - ’

‘She never went to the hospital.’

Roger’s voice was suspicious. ‘Why not?’

‘Because she doesn’t like hospitals. And before you say anything, there could be any number of reasons for that. Her father died recently.’ He remembered the hesitant way in which she had told him about her father’s death, and knew that it had hit her badly. ‘It could be that he suffered a long illness and that she doesn’t like hospitals as a result.’

Roger was clearly not convinced, but he did not press the point. ‘Perhaps,’ he said noncommittally. ‘But all I’m saying is, be careful. OK?’

Mark’s dark mood lifted. He gave a wry smile. ‘Since when did you become my counsellor?' he asked.

Roger laughed. ‘I might as well make the most of the opportunity. I don’t suppose it’ll come again.’

Mark’s smile untwisted. He unfolded his arms and relaxed. Sitting on the edge of the desk again he put his hands on either side of him and leant back comfortably. ‘It
definitely
won’t. But now, I’ve got strict instructions from Emmy and Claire to invite you to dinner.’

‘I’d love to,’ said Roger ruefully, ‘but I have to get back.’

‘Is she a blonde or a redhead?’ Mark asked.

‘No such luck! I’ve had my nephew dumped on me. I’ve promised to take him to a musical. Something spectacular. Oh, well, I’d better be going.’

The two men rose.

Roger hesitated. ‘I
hope you didn’t mind me . . . ’

‘Of course not.’

But Mark found that he did mind.

He just didn’t want to admit it.

Anna was enjoying herself. Her day out with Mark had been magical, and with each new day she spent in his company she was discovering more of the things that had made her fall in love with him in the first place. In a way it was strange, being engaged to a man she could not remember. But something about it felt so right that the strangeness paled into insignificance when she was with him.

She was just telling Emmy and Claire about their trip to the forest when some sixth sense made her look towards the door. She saw Mark standing there, framed in the doorway. He was watching her with such a strange expression on his face that she felt an irrational urge to go over to him and comfort him. But of course she couldn’t do that. Not in front of Emmy and Claire. It would seem odd.

‘Where’s Roger?’ asked Claire.

‘He couldn’t stay.’

‘Oh! What a shame! There’s nothing wrong, is there? Nothing he’s worried about?’

‘No.’ Mark came forward into the room. ‘He had business in
Sheffield
, and just thought he’d look in on his way back.’

‘That was nice of him,’ said Emmy maternally. ‘You’re lucky to have him working for you, Mark. Roger’s such a lovely boy.’

‘I’ll tell him you said so,’ Mark smiled.

They went on chatting about their day, but Anna was conscious of the fact that every now and again Mark would turn puzzled eyes towards her.

‘You would tell me, wouldn’t you, if there was anything troubling you?’ she murmured as they went in to dinner.

But Mark made no reply.

This is heavenly
, thought Anna, as she floated on her back in the middle of the lake. It was the following morning. The sky up above was a brilliant blue and the sun was shining. The day was already hot.

The only cloud on the horizon was Mark’s mood.

She had been looking forward to the swim, and thought he had too, but ever since Roger’s visit he had been difficult, as though he was in two minds about their relationship: friendly one minute and distant the next. Finally she had lost patience with him and, matching one of his bursts of sharpness with sharpness of her own, had struck out for the middle of the lake. And there she now floated, luxuriating in the feel of the water on her skin.

She turned over on to her front and began to swim slowly towards a large willow tree on the far side of the lake. Its branches drooped gracefully over the water. Once in its shade she turned and looked back towards t
he house. The scene was idyllic.
O
r would have been, if Mark had not been angrily splitting the lake in two, energetically swimming back and forth with an impressive crawl.

Whatever it was that was upsetting him, it must be something important. He had done at least forty lengths of the lake, and that was before she had stopped counting. She only hoped
the exercise would work it out of his system - whatever
it
turned out to be.

As she watched, he finally stopped, dousing his head and neck with water and running his hands over his slicked-back hair. The sight of him was heart-stopping. His arms were firm and his chest muscled; not with the bulging muscles of a bodybuilder, but with the well-toned muscles of an athlete. And that was the man she was going to marry . . .

She pushed herself away from the willow and struck out towards him. The morning was far too lovely to waste.

His scowl as she approached was not welcoming, but she ignored it and, seized with a sudden spirit of mischief, she thwacked! the water with her hand, sending up a leaping wave that doused him all over again.

‘Why, you . . . ’
he said, annoyed. And then suddenly his eyes lit with a mischief to match her own. ‘So! Splash me, would you?’ he asked as his face broke into an unwilling smile. ‘Two can play at that game!’

Knowing what was coming, she flicked over onto her back and kicked up a shower of spray, the movement carrying her out of reach whilst drenching him again.

He let out a throaty roar. ‘This means war!’ He launched himself after her, eyes alight with the thrill of the chase, and she drove herself more powerfully through the water, laughing and giggling as she swam away from him. But her strokes were no match for his, even if she hadn’t been almost incapacitated with laughter, and she felt his hand grasping her ankle, pulling her back towards him with an inescapable grip.

‘No! Not fair!’ she laughed, as he hauled her to him and crushed her against his chest.

‘All’s fair in love and war,’ he said, laughing into her eyes.

‘And which is this?’ she asked teasingly, abandoning the struggle and wrapping her arms round his neck.

‘I don’t know,’ he said, suddenly serious. ‘You tell me.’

But she was not about to let his mood become dark again. Laughingly, she said, ‘Both!’ And then, taking him completely by surprise, she dived between his legs and swam under water to the far side of the lake.

She turned round, blinking the water out of her eyes, but couldn’t see him anywhere. So, he could swim underwater too. She peered down through the water, trying to see his shape. If he wanted to take her by surprise, he wouldn’t find it easy. But the water wasn’t clear enough for her to see far.

‘I know you’re under there,’ she called. ‘You won’t find me easy to catch!’

There was no reply. The water was ominously still.

Could she have misjudged what he would do? Had he decided to swim to the far side of the lake? She looked across the water, but couldn't see anything. The surface was unbroken.

She began to feel uneasy. He had been under there for a long time.

‘Mark?’ She called hesitantly.

No reply.

She began to swim across the lake - only to have him burst out of the water and catch her up in his arms!

‘You rotter!’ she exclaimed.

‘Rott
er?’ he teased her, mocking her
language.

She struggled in his arms.

‘No need to do that,’ he said, his eyes laughing. ‘I’ll let you go if you want to. Do you, Anna? Do you want to be let go?’

She let out a low groan. ‘Why do you always have to call my bluff?’

He kissed her, a short, delicious kiss, before turning his head and kissing her again, his mouth approaching hers tantalisingly from the other direction.

‘I thought
—
’

-
kiss
-

‘ —
you’d
—
’

-
kiss
-

‘— drowned —
’

-
kiss
-

—
she protested.

‘Oh, no,’ he teased her, his mouth moving down to her neck. ‘You won’t get rid of me as easily as that!’

She wondered fleetingly what it would be like to make love to him in the water, but all such thoughts were driven out of her head a minute later when Emmy’s voice called across the lake. ‘Breakfast!’

Anna looked towards the house. Claire was already sitting on the terrace, sipping a glass of orange juice, whilst Emmy was standing by the French windows, a coffee pot in her hand.

‘Goodness,’ said Anna. ‘I’d no idea it was so late. We must have been out here a lot longer than I’d realised. Come on, it isn’t fair to keep them waiting.’

She struck out for the shore and he swam after her, joining her as she towelled off and
then settled down to breakfast.

‘Has Mark always been so moody?’ asked Anna.

Mark had finished his breakfast and had gone upstairs to dress, whilst Claire had gone off for a walk, but Anna had remained on the terrace with Emmy and was sipping her second cup of coffee. She savoured the aroma, as well as the taste, of the freshly-roasted beans.

‘No.’ Emmy sounded surprised. ‘No, I wouldn’t say he was moody. Have you found him so, dear?’

Anna nodded. ‘Most of the time things are fine.’
A lot better than fine
, she thought to herself, without saying so out
loud. ‘But sometimes . . . ’

‘You haven’t had an argument, have you?’

‘No.’ Anna shook her head. ‘At least, not one I can remember. I suppose we might have had a falling out before my accident. In fact, I’ve wondered as much a few times. Sometimes he seems - distant.’