Getting It Right This Time (24 page)

Kate covered the hand holding the phone and brought it to the table. “There’s more, Mark.”

He frowned. “What?”

Kate swallowed. “We were photographed by Underwood. Jess too.”

“Shit!” Mark shoved to his feet, his chair clattering to the floor behind him. “I’ll bloody kill him.”

Kate’s heart leapt into her throat. His face grew scarlet with rage, and a vein throbbed at his temple as though struggling to escape. “Mark, calm down.”

His eyes stormed in a maelstrom of green, brown and gold, his fists clenched in front of him, the knuckles showing white against the tanned skin of his hands. “Calm down? No, Kate.

This is too much, he’s harassed me for too long. He loved Dad going to court. He made sure he went in there with shame hanging from his name like a bloody noose. And now he’s trying to do the same to me.”

“And if you go after him like this, he’ll succeed.” Kate threw a panicked glance toward the conservatory. She turned back once she could see Jess still curled into a ball on the sofa. “We have to think this through. Do you really want your picture and detrimental copy spewed all over the papers? Think of your career, your clients’ careers. You cannot rise to his bait. Or Marcia’s.”

He stared at her, yet his eyes were unfocused. Kate knew he wasn’t listening to a word she said.

“Mark?”

“Do you think Underwood wanted you or Marcia?”

“What?”

“Do you think he followed you or Marcia?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, he--”

“Where was Liam?”

“Liam? What’s Liam got to do with this?”

Mark cursed. “I asked him to tail Marcia. To make sure that she had nothing to do with the things that have been happening. It seems to me wherever Underwood is, Marcia’s not far behind.”

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As Kate watched him pace back and forth, his face a mask of concentration and suppressed fury, a heavy weight of exhaustion fell across her shoulders. How could she possibly expose Jessica to this kind of thing? Photographers? Manic, money-hungry clients with endless agendas? Did she want to spend her life looking over her shoulder in order to protect her daughter?

She dropped her head into her hands. “I feel so tired of this.”

A moment passed before his fingers drew her hands from her face. He pulled her to her feet and guided her head to his chest. Kate closed her eyes and listened to the rapid thump of his heart.

“We’ll get through this, you know,” he said against her hair. “I will deal with both Marcia and Underwood.”

“But there will be others, Mark. You’re famous. You were the most eligible bachelor in the UK according to the tabloids. We’re a couple. They’ll never leave us alone.”

He drew her from his embrace and held her at arm’s length. “This isn’t normal. Sure, there’s never been anyone special in my life since I became successful, but that doesn’t mean I’ve been a monk. I’ve dated, I’ve even had sex.”

“Oh, and here I was hoping I was your first.” Kate smiled.

He kissed her nose. “Sorry about that. Listen to me. This harassment, my office, the papers, it’s too much, nothing like this has happened before. Which makes me think the motivation behind it cannot just be about me.”

“What are you saying?”

“When I went to Liam’s the other night, Marcia was there. Wherever Marcia is, Underwood is. Don’t you see?”

Kate mouth curved into a slow smile. “They’re working together.”

“Exactly. And that means I get two for the price of one.”

“Or if Liam’s involved too, it will be buy two, get one free.” Kate managed to joke.

He smiled. “God, I love you. We’ll sort this. Together.”

Slowly his eyes darkened and his smile dissolved as his gaze fell hungrily to her lips. It felt like weeks since their lovemaking when it hadn’t even been one. Kate felt an urgent pull between her legs. Their joined determination to beat both Marcia and Underwood at their game clearly sparked an arousal in Mark as much as it did her. She flicked out her tongue to wet suddenly dry lips.

“Why are you looking at me that way, Mr. Johnston?” she whispered, pressing a restraining hand to his chest.

“Why do you think?”

Her nipples tightened beneath the thin cotton of her t-shirt. Dragging her gaze from eyes that should come with a warning, she glanced toward the conservatory. Jess was still flat out on the sofa. Kate looked at Mark once more.

“Well, if my guess is right, we need to be alone.”

He nodded, dropped his head to the sensitive curve of her neck. “Uh-huh.”

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Her eyelids fluttered closed as she gripped his shoulders. Cruel. The man was cruel. She sighed. “What if I ask Mum to babysit tonight?” She paused. “Overnight.”

His hesitation lingered beneath her hands for a brief second before he slowly lifted his head.

His stare was alive with fire and passion, love and laughter. He kissed her, his lips urgent and firm, insistent and perfect.

“That, Miss Marshall, sounds like a plan.”

* * * *

“Chill, Kate Marshall. Chill.”

Her breath left her lungs in a rush. It was crazy to feel this nervous--or excited--or whatever the hell ripped through her veins at a hundred miles an hour. She walked into the dining room, cast her gaze over the table she had decorated and wondered if it looked too much like a staged production. She stared at the candles, the white china, the pale blue tablecloth and napkins--should she have ordered takeaway and set up a picnic on the living room floor?

She shook her head. He would love whatever she did, she knew that, yet her nerves were stretched to the breaking point as though tonight was their first time together physically. The doorbell rang. Kate froze and clutched her throat before shaking her head and walking into the hallway.

“What is the matter with you, woman?” she muttered.

Mark’s silhouette filled the glass partition in the door, and Kate smiled when he lifted his hand to push back his hair. Could he be nervous too? She opened the door.

He stood on her step looking as handsome as ever. With the setting sun turning the sky salmon-pink behind him, the unmistakable sparkle in his eyes and his devilish smile wide enough to light up the moon, Kate snapped a mental picture to keep in her memory forever. He brought his arm out from behind his back.

“Ta-da.”

The single white rose was once again perfect in its beauty. She smiled and took it. “From The Landscape?”

He nodded. “Always.”

She stepped back, bringing the rose to her nose and watching him over its petals. “I suppose for that, you’d better come in.”

He pressed a kiss to her cheek as he walked inside. “Where do you want me?”

Kate arched an eyebrow and pushed the door shut, her eyes never leaving his. “Can’t we eat first?”

He grinned. “Mmm…that’s a dangerous game to play when you’re wearing that dress, wouldn’t you say?” He came toward her and clasped his hands around her waist.

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Getting It Right This Time

Kate’s vagina throbbed its impatience, but she held firm. “Maybe,” she said. “But I made pasta and if we leave it until afterward, we will be eating rubber on a plate. If we eat now, it stands more chance of actually tasting like something edible.” She paused, grimaced. “I’m not a fancy cook by any stretch of the imagination, so be warned.”

He bent down and gently nibbled along the soft skin beneath her earlobe and along the curve of her neck. “Then we’d better eat now,” he said. “Fast.”

She wriggled from his grasp lest she risk contradicting every word she’d said by ripping off her dress and rugby-tackling the man to the hallway floor.

“Let’s eat.” Swallowing back her newly-emerging nymphomaniac, Kate steered him into the dining room. “Wine in bottle, glasses on table.”

“Can’t I help with anything in the kitchen?”

She shook her head. “Nope, but thank you. Pour and then sit.”

He winked and raised his hand to his head in a salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

Grinning like a demented clown, Kate giggled as she practically skipped into the kitchen.

Grabbing a tea towel, she opened the oven and sent up a silent prayer their
tête-à-tête
in the hallway hadn’t resulted in blackened pasta and basil a la Kate.

It survived. She exhaled. “Thank you, God.”

Taking out the freshly made and perfectly golden garlic bread, she laid both the dish and bread out on an oak serving board and carried it into the dining room. The aromas of basil and garlic, cheese and smoky bacon filled the room as she placed it in the center of the table.

“That smells amazing,” Mark said, leaning forward to peer at the dish. “How can you say you can’t cook?”

Kate laughed. “You haven’t tasted it yet. Let me grab the salad.”

She took the bowl off the counter and then stopped. The collage of photos of Jessica on the refrigerator door stopped her in her tracks. She reached out and drew an invisible line around her daughter’s beautiful face and smiled softly.

“Everything’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” she murmured. “Mummy and Mark are going to fix it all.” She paused, swallowed hard. “And Daddy’s smiling down because we’re all going to be so happy. I promise.”

Turning, she walked back into the living room and Mark stood up. “Will you at least let me serve?”

She smiled and put down the salad bowl. “Sure. That would be nice.”

Taking her seat, Kate picked up her wine and took a mouthful as Mark dug the serving spoon into the pasta. She watched the way his strong hand firmly clasped the handle of the spoon, the way the tendons of his forearm, left deliciously bare by the short-sleeve shirt he wore, hitched and moved beneath the tanned skin.

“Are you checking me out, Miss Marshall?”

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Heat singed her cheeks as though his voice were a blowtorch. She snapped her head up. His eyes glowed wolfishly as he wriggled his eyebrows.

Laughing, Kate said, “Shut up.”

He laughed too as he filled their plates with pasta, bread and salad. He topped off their glasses. “A toast,” he said, sitting down and raising his glass. “To us and Jess having the happiest and longest future together anyone has ever known.”

“Amen to that.” They clinked glasses, and Kate drank deeply. “Let’s eat.”

Mark met her eyes and winked. “Quickly.”

“Mmm, dessert is just a course away.”

Smiling, he dug in with relish. Kate watched from beneath lowered lashes as he chewed.

Two or three seconds passed before he looked up again--but when he did, his eyes were wide.

“Oh. My. God.”

She grinned. “Nice?”

“Nice? It’s bloody fantastic!”

“Good, now you can tell me everything about this war between you and Underwood.”

The atmosphere immediately chilled like she’d thrown cold water over the table. Mark looked up from his plate, a re-loaded fork forgotten in his hand. “Do we really have to talk about him tonight?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. Before anything else can…” She let the sentence drift off, wondering if her plan of talking first, sex later was the right one. Suddenly she felt as though running upstairs and leaving the pasta to ruin might have been a better option. “I won’t be able to relax until I know, Mark. It’s the final piece to the puzzle of what started this.”

He put down his fork. “But tonight? Can’t we talk about it tomorrow?”

She forced herself to keep looking at him. “What happened to your dad, Mark? What did Underwood do to him?”

He picked up his glass and their eyes locked above its rim for a long moment before he put it down and took up his fork. “Fine. But we eat while we talk. Dessert is still my goal.”

She grinned as the tension left her shoulders. “Deal.”

“Okay. Do you remember my Dad’s garage?”

“The mechanic workshop on Carson’s Road? Sure.”

Mark nodded. “That’s right. Well, he got himself into a mess when the business started failing.”

Kate tore off some garlic bread. “He loved that place.”

“Exactly. It was everything to him. Anyway, it began to fail or the old man got too old, one of the two, and he would not…could not admit to me or Mum it was running at a loss. A severe loss.” He paused and thoughtfully chewed his food. “This went on for over two years. He got bank loans we never knew about, cut corners on jobs.”

“What? But…”

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Getting It Right This Time

“There was an accident and Dad was found guilty of negligence.”

Kate’s stomach rolled. “No one was killed?”

“No, thank God, but Dad didn’t have any indemnity insurance and when the victims rightly sued him for damages, it ruined him.”

“God. Poor Rob.”

Mark shook his head. “He knew what he did was wrong. Accepted it even. But then I fell out with Underwood and the whole situation erupted tenfold.”

“How?”

“I turned him down for a couple of exclusives.”

“And he used your dad’s mistake to get at you? What’s the matter with him? Has he no conscience whatsoever?”

“It was a chance to get back at me. I turned him down for the first exclusives because there had already been two complaints logged against him for harassment toward young teenage stars.”

“Bastard.”

“The girl he wanted to interview was Kelly Warburton.”

“The actress from Mockingbird?”

“Yep.”

“But she’s not from Foxton.”

He smiled. “Yes, she is. She was an ordinary girl looking for a break and lost that chance when she fell down a flight of stairs and smashed up her face. Without reconstructive surgery, I still believe her acting talent would never have been given a chance.”

Kate’s heart swelled inside her chest. “But you gave her that chance, didn’t you?”

He lifted his shoulders. “She would have been discovered eventually. The girl has far too much talent to go unnoticed.”