‘No.’ She backed away, a trace of fear washing over her face. ‘No, we didn’t mean them.’
‘We didn’t mean them but they’re coming true.’
‘To have and to hold?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘In sickness and in health. Until death us do part. To love and to cherish. To be one. I don’t think so, Marcus.’
‘Maybe not,’ he said slowly. Not that. Not a complete joining. She was beautiful, he thought. She was the most desirable thing. But… Somehow he forced his confused mind to think. Somehow.
He was a loner. He’d been raised to be a loner; it had been instilled in him since birth and how could he change that now?
But… She was a loner, too. She was independent. She wasn’t a clinging vine. She’d take what he could give.
‘No,’ she said and he stared.
‘No?’
‘I know what you’re about to suggest and I want no part of it.’
‘Peta, we’re married.’
‘We’re not married.’
‘Are you denying you want me?’
‘Of course I want you,’ she said shortly. ‘Of course I do. You can feel it. Like I can feel you want me. But it’s not enough. Not nearly enough.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I want it all,’ she said abruptly, her fingers going to her lips as if they were bruised. As they well might be. ‘All or nothing. I won’t do less.’
‘What on earth do you mean by that?’
‘I’ve fallen in love with you, Marcus.’
Just like that. He couldn’t believe she’d said it. He stood back, stunned.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I know you don’t,’ she whispered. ‘But oh, Marcus, I want you to know. I want you to learn.’
‘What the…’
But her face had closed. ‘I’m being stupid,’ she whispered. ‘I’m looking for the fairytale. Stupid, stupid, stupid. And it’s time for us to go home.’ She stooped and lifted the picnic basket, breaking eye contact. He felt it. It hurt. It was a withdrawal and it hurt more than he could have imagined it would have. ‘I’m sorry. I should never have kissed…have let you kiss…’
‘We both wanted it.’
‘I know. But not…to take it further.’
‘We could,’ he said urgently. ‘Peta, listen. This love thing. I don’t know it. I’ve never-never dreamed… But you, what I feel for you… I’m prepared to take a chance.’
‘That’s big of you.’
‘No.’ He tried to grasp her hands but she stepped back again. ‘Don’t. Peta, listen. We’re married. You’re my wife. We could do this. You could have this place as your base while Harry needs you but I’d rebuild. I’d make it fit for you. You’d visit me in New York when I had time to spare…’
‘You’d make this place fit for me?’ Her voice was suddenly dangerous.
‘It’s a dump, but it could be fabulous. The house site-could you imagine what we could build here?’
‘And you’d visit…how often?’
‘My work’s in New York. But I’ll have spent two weeks here now. I’ll come when I can.’
‘This is sounding more and more romantic.’ Her voice said it wasn’t romantic at all.
‘You say you love me.’
‘I don’t love you like that.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like I’ll give in to you because I love you. Like I’ll take the crumbs because I love you. I’ve fallen hard for you, Marcus. Stupidly hard. But I have the sense to see it’s never going to work.’
‘It will work.’ He reached out again. This time he caught her hands and she froze.
‘Let go of me.’
‘Peta-’
‘I said let go. I’ve told you. The dogs are trained.’
‘You’re saying you’ll set the dogs on me?’ His voice rose incredulously.
‘I surely will.’
His own anger rose then. What sort of a game was she playing? ‘Hell, Peta, if I leave, if I go back to the States tomorrow you’re sunk.’
‘You’re saying you’ll call this whole thing off because I won’t sleep with you?’ she demanded. ‘Because I won’t fit in with your crazy plans for a mock marriage then you’ll let Charles have the farm?’
He froze. What the hell…? ‘Of course not. I’m not into blackmailing.’
She stared at him for a long moment, her anger turning icy. ‘That’s good then,’ she said at last. ‘So you’re not blackmailing me and I’m not doing anything else. Good night, Marcus. It’d be better if you didn’t come near my veranda tonight.’
‘But…’
‘Good night.’
CHAPTER TEN
WHAT followed were five very strained days.
‘Don’t you guys like each other any more?’ Harry demanded.
‘We like each other,’ Marcus told him. He was cooking-a beef casserole with red wine and mushrooms. Harry would eat with him and take home a plateful for Peta to eat when she came in from the dairy.
For she’d refused to eat with him again. She’d put herself to work. She’d thrown herself into the farm and Marcus had been free to fend for himself.
It hurt-but in a sense he accepted it was right. They couldn’t come near each other without sparks flying. He’d asked her to be his wife and she’d refused. That was her right and in a way it was nothing less than he’d expected. To love a woman was impossible.
To love anyone was impossible.
But he’d become attached to Harry-more attached than he cared to admit. While Peta spent her time with her cows, avoiding him, Harry hauled his homework to the pink house each night. He gossiped while Marcus cooked or worked on his laptop. He was inquisitive and friendly and bubbly with twelve-year-old enthusiasm, and Marcus knew that when this two weeks was up it wouldn’t just be Peta he’d miss.
So why didn’t he do something about it?
What could he do? He’d already asked her to take it further. He’d offered…
He hadn’t offered enough. He hadn’t offered himself.
‘I’m a loner,’ he told Harry now as they chopped onions over companionable tears. ‘Peta’s a loner, too. That’s why she eats her dinner by herself.’
‘She never eats dinner by herself when my brothers are at home. It’s just ’cos she’s avoiding you.’
‘So she doesn’t like me.’
‘Of course she likes you.’
Maybe she likes me too much. The words were there, unsaid. The thought…
It made him feel…
Scared. He sliced his last onion and turned to get the steak from the fridge. Giving him time to get his voice in order.
‘Peta and I are very different,’ he told Harry. ‘My life’s in New York and Peta’s is here. If we get…
