Книга - Marrying Marcus

Marrying Marcus
Laurey Bright


Marcus Crossan was dark, mysterious, controlling–and Jenna Harper's savior when his younger brother came home engaged to another! Being a Crossan bride was orphaned Jenna's dream–one she could no longer have.Until Marcus made a stunning offer. Marry him instead of his brother. A bewildered Jenna didn't know where to turn, but Marcus's passionate kisses left her breathless–and suddenly eager to marry.But once wed, innocent Jenna found herself at sea in a new world of emotions. Marcus's touch woke sensual longings, and she found herself yearning for words of love from her handsome husband.And then suddenly his brother was free once more….







Marcus unexpectedly reached out and ran his thumb over her lower lip.

Her eyes locked with his, and a jolt of sexual awareness coursed through her, leaving her breathless and dizzy.

Marcus’s eyes had darkened, and she could see a tiny muscle twitch near his jaw. Then he smiled and, without taking his eyes from her, snaked his arm along the padded back of the couch, letting it lie there, his fingers just touching her shoulder.

“Nice?” he said softly.

Jenna couldn’t speak. That light touch scorched. She couldn’t recall ever being so acutely aware of another human being. When his thigh brushed against hers, she bit down hard on her lip.

This is Marcus, she said to herself, dazed. She’d never felt like this about him—about anyone….


Dear Reader,

Celebrate the holidays with Silhouette Romance! We strive to deliver emotional, fast-paced stories that suit your every mood—each and every month. Why not give the gift of love this year by sending your best friends and family members one of our heartwarming books?

Sandra Paul’s The Makeover Takeover is the latest page-turner in the popular HAVING THE BOSS’S BABY series. In Teresa Southwick’s If You Don’t Know by Now, the third in the DESTINY, TEXAS series, Maggie Benson is shocked when Jack Riley comes back into her life—and their child’s!

I’m also excited to announce that this month marks the return of two cherished authors to Silhouette Romance. Gifted at weaving intensely dramatic stories, Laurey Bright once again thrills Romance readers with her VIRGIN BRIDES title, Marrying Marcus. Judith McWilliams’s charming tale, The Summer Proposal, will delight her throngs of devoted fans and have us all yearning for more!

As a special treat, we have two fresh and original royalty-themed stories. In The Marine & the Princess, Cathie Linz pits a hardened military man against an impetuous princess. Nicole Burnham’s Going to the Castle tells of a duty-bound prince who escapes his castle walls and ends up with a beautiful refugee-camp worker.

We promise to deliver more exciting new titles in the coming year. Make it your New Year’s resolution to read them all!

Happy reading!






Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor




Marrying Marcus

Laurey Bright







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Books by Laurey Bright


Silhouette Romance

Tears of Morning #107

Sweet Vengeance #125

Long Way from Home #356

The Rainbow Way #525

Jacinth #568

Marrying Marcus #1558

Silhouette Special Edition

Deep Waters #62

When Morning Comes #143

Fetters of the Past #213

A Sudden Sunlight #516

Games of Chance #564

A Guilty Passion #586

The Older Man #761

The Kindness of Strangers #820

An Interrupted Marriage #916

Silhouette Intimate Moments

Summers Past #470

A Perfect Marriage #621

The Mother of His Child #918




LAUREY BRIGHT


has held a number of different jobs, but has never wanted to be anything but a writer. She lives in New Zealand, where she creates the stories of contemporary people in love that have won her a following all over the world.










Contents


Chapter One (#u09c1dbf1-f76e-52e2-878c-380fb9332fdc)

Chapter Two (#ud1061fc6-5fb7-5ba5-be4a-ddeb1474e061)

Chapter Three (#u3f22c8ef-a8e2-5ef3-ade6-1dd45b3e80fc)

Chapter Four (#ucec22b5c-8f21-58fd-ad6c-d8c013966ea6)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)




Chapter One


Anticipation sizzling in her blood, Jenna Harper scanned the passengers from the recently landed Los-Angeles-to-Auckland flight. Backpackers in jeans and boots, business people in tailored suits, parents with tired-eyed children, a middle-aged couple whose grandchildren swarmed to them as they appeared from the customs area.

Among those waiting at the arrivals gate, Pacific Islanders in flower-patterned prints, and an Indian woman’s butterfly-wing sari, created splashes of early-morning color.

By Jenna’s side her best friend, Katie Crossan, shifted impatiently from one foot to the other. Katie’s sister, Jane, hitched her youngest into her arms while her husband restrained the older two, who were becoming restless.

“When’s Uncle Dean coming?” the four-year-old demanded.

“Soon,” his grandmother assured her.

The entire Crossan family had turned out to welcome Dean home. Even Marcus, his elder brother.

Jenna wondered if Marcus would have come if Katie hadn’t begged him to drive her and Jenna to the airport at Mangere.

He stood a little aside from the rest of the tightly knit group, taller than any of them, including his father. Dark hair was ruthlessly combed back from his angular, intelligent face; his hands were thrust into the pockets of gray-green trousers, which he wore with a cream shirt.

He turned his head a fraction and caught Jenna looking at him. One black brow lifted slightly, and then a corner of his long, firm mouth. His storm-cloud eyes were disconcertingly penetrating.

Jenna gave him a nervous smile, flicked a strand of fine, light-brown hair from her cheek to behind her ear and looked away, searching the next wave of arrivals.

Marcus was older than Katie and Dean, the twins who were born when he was nearly six and Jane five.

Katie and Jenna had agreed that although they’d miss Dean like crazy, the scholarship that had taken him away for four years to America would give him the chance to move out of Marcus’s formidable shadow. But the waiting had been hard.

Marcus saw him first. “Here he comes.”

Katie broke away from the group, shrieking Dean’s name before her arms circled his neck and he caught her, swinging her off her feet.

The children, suddenly shy of this stranger, hung about Jane, impeding her and her husband as they too pressed forward.

Jenna couldn’t help a smile of pure joy, bubbles of it bursting inside her like champagne, but she made herself wait. As soon as the family greetings were over, Dean would look for her. And she enjoyed just drinking in the sight of him.

He was not as tall as his brother, but his hair was nearly as dark and had a nice wave. His features were regular and his eyes a warm blue. Film-star looks. And when he saw his family, his face showed unashamed affection that to Jenna’s eyes made him even more handsome.

Mr. Crossan gave him a quick hug, Mrs. Crossan wiped a tear after hugging him in her turn, the three children clustered around Jane as she kissed her younger brother’s cheek, and her husband clapped him on the shoulder.

Jenna took a step forward, then halted when the tall, tanned blonde behind Dean, whom she had assumed was another passenger patiently waiting for the family to move out of the way, went to his side. Unbelievably he turned to put an arm about her.

It was like a slow-motion movie. Jenna’s mouth dried, her blood froze. She was almost suffocating, standing immovable as a puzzled hush settled on the group just yards away.

Dean smiled down at the girl and said happily to his family, “This is Callie—we’re getting married.”




Chapter Two


The world stopped for Jenna, although all about her people were moving, calling out to others, hugging and kissing, helping to push carts piled high with luggage.

The family came to life. Katie squealed, punched Dean’s chest. “You didn’t tell us!” His mother gave Dean another hug, embraced the girl and kissed her cheek. His father shook her hand, then Dean’s.

Dean hadn’t even looked at Jenna.

Everything around her faded and turned gray, and the jumble of sounds became muffled. She was numb.

A hard hand closed about her arm, so tight that it hurt. And she was glad, because she needed something to persuade her she could still feel. Marcus’s deep voice next to her ear said, “Do you want me to get you out of here?”

Yes, she thought, but said thinly, when her woolly tongue found itself, “No.” He couldn’t abandon his family. “Of course not. You…h-haven’t said hello to your brother.”

She dragged her eyes from Dean and saw that Marcus was looking extremely grim, his gaze on his brother’s face not welcoming at all. He returned his attention to her. “Neither have you. Are you up to it?”

Overwhelming embarrassment and panic gripped her. Maybe she was going to be sick. Afraid to open her mouth again, she tried to nod.

“You look as though you’re about to fall over,” Marcus said bluntly.

Jenna gritted her teeth, forcing out words. “I won’t.” She held her breath, hoping to bring some color into her cheeks.

The group around Dean was surging toward her and Marcus. He didn’t let go of her arm as Dean saw them and bounded over, abandoning the baggage cart.

Jenna molded her lips into something approximating a smile and instructed herself to breathe again. Marcus had moved ahead of her, his free hand outstretched so that Dean had to stop and take it, giving Jenna a little more time.

Marcus said unemotionally, “Hi, Dean. Congratulations. And welcome home.”

“Thanks.” Dean’s other hand gripped his arm. “You haven’t changed a bit, Marc.”

Behind him, Katie shot Jenna an anxious look. Then Dean turned to Jenna and held his arms wide, eclipsing his sister. “Hi, Jen! Sweet of you to turn out at this time of the morning. How are you?”

He hugged her, not seeming to notice that her own arms hung lifelessly at her sides. “You have to meet Callie,” he said.

She supposed she did.

Stepping back, she almost collided with Marcus, her shoulder touching his chest, but he didn’t move. And neither did she, buttressed by the solid feel of him right behind her.

She turned the hurting smile to the girl’s face. “How nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Callie had a warm American accent, a genuine smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

What? her mind asked frantically. What did Dean say about me? Did he tell you I’ve been stupidly in love with him since we were children? That I thought he would come back and marry me? That next to Katie and his mother I thought I was the person he was closest to in all the world?

“Katie’s best friend,” Callie said, “and roommate—except here you call it a flatmate.” She screwed up her nose and laughed. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” Jenna couldn’t say any more. She wanted to scream, cry—run. Pride kept her upright, smiling.

Callie looked at Marcus. “And you’re Marcus,” she said. “The big brother.” She gave him a frank, open look, her eyes wide and candid, and the smile turned from friendly to appreciative. “He’s told me all about his family.”

“And yet he hasn’t told us a thing about you,” Marcus said.

Callie laughed again. “He wanted to surprise you.”

“You are certainly a surprise.” Marcus paused. “A welcome one, of course. I hope you’ll enjoy New Zealand.”

“I’m looking forward to it, and to getting to know you all. Oh—and Jenna too.”

The afterthought was kindly meant, Jenna knew, but it made her conscious that she wasn’t really family, she didn’t belong.

Jane’s children had commandeered the baggage cart, and one of the bags slipped. While Callie helped to reorganize the luggage, Jenna blindly turned away, following an instinct to flee.

Marcus was in her way. His fingers circled her arm again for a second. “Just stay here.” His voice held a note of command.

She stood there while he exchanged a few quick words with his parents and Katie, who threw her friend another worried glance.

Then Marcus was back at her side, his hand on her elbow. “Come on.”

She didn’t ask where they were going, so relieved that he was taking her away from this nightmare that she didn’t care. “Katie…?” she said feebly as he whisked her across the polished floor.

“There’s room for her in Mum and Dad’s car, and she won’t want to be separated from Dean. That’s something Callie will have to get used to—how close the twins are.”

And of course with Callie sharing the back seat, there’d be no room for Jenna.

Dean’s parents expected him to stay at their home, just half an hour out of Auckland, until he’d settled. They hadn’t been expecting him to bring a fiancée, but there’d be no problem putting up an extra person in the big house where they’d brought up their family—the house Jenna had known almost as well as she knew the much smaller home she’d shared with her mother next door.

In the parking area the cool air chilled her, although the gray morning sky was turning to blue, with high white clouds drifting across it.

Marcus guided her to his sleek maroon car and opened the door for her. He didn’t speak again until they were on their way out of the airport complex, driving between green fields gradually being overtaken by new buildings.

Then he said, “I told the family I’d join them later. Have you had breakfast?”

“Breakfast?” Jenna repeated vaguely.

“Something to eat. What most people have in the morning.”

“No.” She and Katie had been too rushed and too excited to eat breakfast at that early hour. She didn’t see what relevance it had.

“Neither have I,” Marcus said. “We’ll stop on the way.”

Jenna didn’t argue, although she had never felt less hungry. Like his younger siblings, she’d developed a habit of listening to Marcus.

When they reached the outskirts of the city he found a restaurant and ordered juice, toast and pancakes for two, and made Jenna drink hot, strong coffee. With sugar.

“That’s better,” he said, after she had eaten two slices of toast and pushed the empty coffee cup away. “You’re beginning to look human again.”

“I’m never at my best in the morning,” she said.

Marcus gave her a thoughtful look. “I’m sorry, Jenna.”

She gazed down at the white ceramic salt cellar on the table—shiny and smooth. “Thanks,” she said, “for breakfast.” And for rescuing me. Stopping me from making a complete fool of myself. “I’ll pay my share.”

“Don’t be silly.” A lean hand caught hers as she made to open her purse. “I’m paying.” He removed his warm, strong fingers from hers and took out his wallet.

In the car she said, “Maybe I should just go home.”

Katie had taken it for granted that Jenna would spend the weekend with the Crossans. It was lucky, she’d said, that her twin had chosen to fly in on a Saturday. They needn’t take time off from work.

Jenna had thought it lucky too. Now she wished she could plead pressure of work, an emergency, any excuse not to be there.

His hand on the ignition key, Marcus turned a searching look on her.

“An engagement is a family affair,” Jenna suggested, her voice strained. “And I’m not family.”

Gently he said, “It smacks a bit of sour grapes, you know. Do you want to make us all feel guilty?”

“No! We—you’ve all been looking forward so much to having Dean home again. I want everyone to be happy for him and…and Callie.”

“Very noble.” His tone was extremely dry. “I suspect you’d like to slap him silly, really. I know I would. I felt like thumping him at the airport.”

Jenna blinked up at him, surprised that Marcus should feel so strongly on her behalf. “I don’t suppose I’d be missed,” she said.

He made a small, scornful noise in his throat. “You know better than that. Of course you’d be missed.” He paused. “If it’s what you want, I’ll take you back to the flat and tell the family you’re not well.” But he sounded reluctant.

They’d guess that the only thing she was nursing was a broken heart…wouldn’t they? And if Katie did believe in a sudden sickness, concern about Jenna being ill and alone would spoil her delight in her brother’s return.

She chewed her lower lip, undecided. “I suppose your whole family is sorry for me.”

“Katie might be. I guess you’ve told her how you feel?”

After a moment Jenna shook her head. “Not really. I mean…not in so many words.” She’d assumed that Katie knew—but then she’d assumed Dean felt the same. And she’d been totally, unbelievably wrong. “I thought everyone knew.” She lifted her eyes to his almost accusingly. “You did.”

His mouth moved in a slight smile. “I don’t think my parents have recognized yet that you and the twins are actually grown up. They’ve never taken your adoration of Dean seriously. And Jane has been pretty much occupied with her own family for the past few years. I take it you haven’t been exchanging love letters with my little brother?”

She’d always signed her regular letters with “Love, Jenna.” And Dean had sent his love in return when he wrote, but his much-less-frequent letters were addressed to both Jenna and his twin, and when he phoned the flat, whichever of the girls answered the phone called out to the other, and they’d eagerly swapped the receiver between them and passed messages until Dean had to hang up.

Jenna had never minded sharing. She’d been grateful that Katie didn’t either. Twins, even nonidentical ones, enjoyed a special bond. She understood that. Did Callie? She said, “Not love letters, exactly.”

She and Dean had known each other so long there was no need to express their feelings in extravagant words. They would have felt silly doing it.

“Dean isn’t cruel,” Marcus said consideringly. “But he’s not always terribly bright about people’s feelings. Probably he just never noticed. The consequence of growing up together. He didn’t see what was right under his nose practically all his life.”

If Marcus was right, staying away today would only fuel any suspicion that might enter anyone’s head—including Dean’s. Or Callie’s. Somehow that would be worse than anything.

His voice became brisk. “How are your acting skills? You used to be pretty good as a kid. Especially if it was a question of saving young Dean’s bacon.”

But Marcus, she recalled, had always seen through her subterfuges on Dean’s behalf. As he’d seen through her today and stepped in to avert what might have been a dampener on the family reunion, an embarrassment to everyone.

When she remained silent, he added, “It’s entirely your choice, but if you come along I promise I’ll make it as bearable as I can—and we’ll leave early.”

Jenna took a deep breath. “I’ll come.”

She couldn’t read the look he gave her. His mouth was very firm, his eyes dark and probing. Then he put out a hand to squeeze hers before starting the car.

It was just as bad as she had imagined.

Marcus parked in the asphalt area in front of the sprawling old house with its gabled windows, the walls and decorative trims freshly painted in honor of Dean’s return. Brushing past scented lavender and frilled pinks in pots at the side of the steps, they went in the big front door that was expectantly open and through the wide hallway.

The adults were sitting around in the family room with cups of tea and coffee, while the children darted between the chairs and chased one another in and out of the French windows opening onto the tree-fringed lawn and the fenced pool.

Marcus explained their delayed arrival by saying he’d needed something to eat after being dragged out of bed at some ungodly hour at his younger sister’s insistence and then stuck at the airport for nearly an hour.

“You could have eaten here,” his mother chided.

“I was too hungry to wait.” He smiled at her. “And going without breakfast didn’t do Jenna any good, either.”

Mrs. Crossan gave her a sympathetic look. “You are a wee bit pale.” She dropped her voice and murmured anxiously, “You’re not upset about Dean’s engagement, are you, dear?”

“I think it’s wonderful,” Jenna lied valiantly. “Callie’s beautiful, isn’t she? And Dean looks so happy.”

“Well, yes.” Mrs. Crossan’s eyes turned to the couple, and Jenna saw the smile she couldn’t help. “They are very happy.”

Dean and Callie had freshened up, and Callie looked even more gorgeous than she had at the airport. Dean hardly took his eyes off her for long enough to wave to his brother and throw a careless “Hi, again!” at Jenna.

She should be glad he didn’t look at her too closely, but instead she felt a jealousy so strong and painful she had to bunch a fist at her midriff to stop it hurting so much.

Marcus’s fingers closed over hers and pried them apart. “Is there coffee on?” he asked no one in particular. “Let’s get some, Jenna.” He hauled her with him into the big, sun-filled kitchen.

“We just had coffee,” she said as he dropped her hand and went to the machine in a corner of the counter.

“Have some more. Or can I get you something stronger?”

Jenna shook her head. She needed her wits about her. “No.”

He pulled two mugs from hooks under the cupboards and filled them, stirring some sugar into hers. “Here.”

Katie came in, a pile of cups and saucers in her hands. “Are you all right, Jen?”

Trying not to sound too hearty, Jenna injected a faint note of surprise into her reply. “I’m fine. Are you pleased to have your brother home? Don’t answer that. Silly question.”

Katie grinned, obviously unable to suppress it. “I never realized how much I missed him.” The grin fading abruptly, she added, placing the cups on the counter, “Callie’s a bit of a bolt from the blue, though.” Her eyes worried, she asked, “He…he hadn’t said anything about her to you, had he?”

“Not a thing.” Jenna made her voice cheerful. “If he’d told anyone it would have been you.”

Marcus interjected, “A whirlwind romance? If even you didn’t know anything, Katie…”

“He did mention her a couple of times, but I never twigged she was anyone special, and he hadn’t said anything about her recently. He says he was scared she’d turn him down, and he didn’t want to come home and have us all know he was nursing a broken heart. She only agreed to come to New Zealand with him a couple of weeks ago, and he decided to keep it secret until they got here, so he could see our faces when he gave us the news.”

Thank heaven he hadn’t seen hers, Jenna thought. She curled her hand around her hot coffee mug, ignoring the discomfort.

Katie added thoughtfully, “And I have a suspicion he was afraid she might change her mind before he got her on the plane.”

Jenna forced a smile. “Well, it’s a nice surprise, isn’t it?”

Dubiously, Katie agreed, “I suppose so. Are you sure you’re okay with it, Jen?”

Hoping she looked bewildered and innocent, Jenna said, “Of course. Dean’s very happy. And I’m happy for him. Aren’t you?”

Hesitantly, Katie said, “I thought it would be you and him. Even when we were kids you said you were going to marry each other.”

Jenna’s laugh should have earned her an Oscar. “We were—what?—eight years old? Come on, Katie!”

“Sometimes when we were older it kind of looked like you were more than friends.”

Jenna had thought so. They’d exchanged kisses from time to time. She’d imagined that, like her, Dean was keeping their relationship on the level of a warm, intimate friendship while they both worked hard at their degrees and were too young and impecunious for marriage.

After they’d graduated, the scholarship had come up for him to study in America. He’d asked Jenna’s opinion, stressing how long he’d be away from home, and she’d somehow concealed her panic and dismay and said of course he must take it, a chance like that wasn’t to be missed.

The kiss he gave her then was definitely not a brotherly one, and she’d seen it as a promise, a pledge, an unspoken commitment to a shared, if deferred, future.

She’d held on to that memory for four years. And now she wondered if Dean even remembered it. Certainly it had held none of the significance for him that it had for her.

Painfully putting her newfound insight into words, Jenna said, “We grew out of it. If there’d been anything serious, Dean wouldn’t have left me to go to the other side of the world for years. Would he?”

Marcus added, “Wishful thinking, Katie. Very nice for you, to match your twin and your best friend, but in real life our childhood sweethearts grow up and marry other people.”

“Did yours?” Katie asked, temporarily diverted.

“Of course,” Marcus answered. “And I didn’t lose a moment’s sleep over it.”

Katie switched her attention back to Jenna. “Have I been daydreaming?”

“I won’t lose a moment’s sleep,” Jenna echoed Marcus, trying to sound as convincing.

Either Marcus had sown the seed of doubt, or Katie decided to take her cue from Jenna’s denial. “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,” she promised.

He smiled. “I know you wouldn’t. If you’d rather come to my place, I have a spare room.”

She shook her head. “Thanks, but no. You’ve been great, Marcus.”

“It doesn’t cost me anything, and much as I’d like to wring his neck, I couldn’t allow Dean’s homecoming to turn into a disaster.”

He might have been sorry for her, but his main concern was his family. Because she was close to his brother and sister, Jenna too had always come under his protection, but she guessed that if she threatened their happiness he’d sacrifice her without a second thought.

Which was right and natural. Only it didn’t make her feel any better.

Marcus said, “It’s a pity your mother’s so far away.”

For the past three years Jenna’s mother had been living in Invercargill, at the other end of the country, with her second husband. “I’m too old to run to my mother,” Jenna said.

She’d learned early in life that running to her mother didn’t solve anything. Karen Harper loved her daughter, but at times her own problems had been too overwhelming for her to cope with Jenna’s, as well.

Marcus cast her a glance. “If you do need someone to run to,” he offered, “I’ll be around.”

She managed a pale smile. “Thanks, but I don’t think so.”

“Independent little cuss, aren’t you?”

“I’ve always tried to be.”

“Had to be, I suppose. It must have been tough, losing your father so early.”

“I never really knew him—I only have a few hazy memories. It was hard on my mother, though. I’m glad she’s found someone else.”

“We promised to keep an eye on you, you know, when she went to live down south.”

Jenna had been just short of twenty then, still at university and living in a students’ hall. “I don’t think she meant me to be a lifelong burden on your family.”

He turned the car into the quiet suburban street where she and Katie lived. “You’re not a burden, Jenna. You’re a friend. And that’s going to make things difficult for you over the next few months, perhaps. You won’t confide in Katie, will you?”

She wasn’t sure if it was a question or a disguised warning. “No.” It was going to be difficult enough for Katie, adjusting to a stranger having a claim on her twin. Knowing that her closest friend carried a torch for him would add extra stress.

“Here you are.” The car stopped outside the building. “I’ll come in with you.”

“You don’t need to—”

He ignored that, and it was just as well. When she opened the door of the flat they were greeted by disaster. Water was dripping from the ceiling and running down the walls, spreading a huge dark stain across the carpet.

“Hell!” Marcus surveyed the mess. “It’s either a burst pipe or someone’s left a tap running in the flat above you.”

It was hours before it was all sorted. The upstairs owners—away for the weekend—were tracked down, a key located, the forgotten tap turned off. And then came the cleanup.

Marcus stayed despite Jenna’s protest. He made phone calls, shifted furniture, helped her mop up water, and tracked down a carpet-cleaning firm who sent a couple of men who moved more furniture and set huge electric fans about the place to dry out the carpets they’d lifted and folded back.

Over the roar of the motors Marcus said, “Well, that settles it. You’ll have to come to my place after all.”

“I don’t know if—”

“You can’t stay here,” he said. “Is all you need in this bag?” He lifted the tote that she’d previously put essentials into, assuming that she would stay the night at the Crossans’.

“I’ll just change my clothes,” she said, capitulating. Her cotton trousers and shirt were wet and grubby. “I won’t be long.”

One thing about the past few hours, she’d scarcely had a chance to think about Dean and his bride-to-be.

Marcus’s apartment was a direct contrast to the cheery muddle Jenna and Katie lived in. The main room was large and airy, the sofas long and luxurious and precisely aligned about a solid rimu coffee table that held one elegantly formed pottery dish. Theirs was invariably cluttered with magazines, paperback books left open and facedown, junk mail, the TV remote control, probably an opened snack food bag and quite likely a hair dryer and bottles of nail polish.

Marcus’s books and magazines were arrayed on shelves, probably in alphabetical order, Jenna thought, and there wasn’t a sign of clutter.

The spare room he ushered Jenna into was equally sparse and neat. “The bed’s made up.” He placed her bag on the end of it. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll give Katie a ring to let her know you’re here and break the bad news about your flat.”

She unzipped the bag, shook out the skirt and top she’d packed, and hung them in the empty wardrobe to get the creases out.

Shutting the door, she caught her reflection in the mirror on the outside. Her face looked lifeless, her mouth pale and tremulous. Rummaging in the bag, she brought out a lipstick and swept a little color over her lips, then rubbed at her cheekbones with her knuckles. At least she could make an effort not to look like a Victorian maiden about to go into a decline.

In the living room, Marcus was replacing the receiver on the phone. “I’ll have a shower and get out of these clothes.” He still looked remarkably well groomed, despite the wet patches and dirty splashes on his shirt and trousers. “Are you hungry?”

She hadn’t thought about eating. Marcus was probably starved. “I could cook something while you’re in the shower, if you have anything…”

“I’ll take you up on that. Raid the freezer. Use whatever you want.”

Forty-five minutes later they sat down in the dining area to honey-glazed chicken with rice and peas. “This looks great,” Marcus told her. “And it deserves a good wine to go with it.”

He poured a New Zealand Chardonnay for them both and smiled at her as he sipped at it, but he didn’t offer a toast.

Apparently having a broken heart hadn’t destroyed Jenna’s appetite after all. She ate everything on her plate and finished the wine in her glass.

Marcus refilled it. They didn’t talk much, and when he pushed away his plate she said, “I didn’t make a dessert, but you have cheese in the fridge.”

“I’ll get it and put coffee on.” He cleared their plates and returned with a couple of cheeses and some crackers on a ceramic square. “Coffee coming up. Do you want more wine?”

“Why not? I’m not going anywhere.”

Marcus filled her glass again, and she lifted it to her lips. She could feel the alcohol-induced flush on her cheeks.

Slicing himself a piece of cheese, Marcus shot her a quizzical look. “It’s not the end of the world, you know.”

Unaccountably irritated, she said resentfully, “I don’t need you to tell me that!”

“Okay.” He held up a hand in a gesture of truce. “Take some time to wallow in your misery. But remember there’s a life out there waiting for you.”

And she’d already wasted four years of it. “You’re right,” she said, and raised her glass. There was no point in dwelling on what might have been. “Here’s to the future,” she said resolutely.

Marcus matched her gesture, giving her a look of approval.

Jenna drained her glass. “Is there more of this?”

He hesitated, poured some for her, then emptied the remains into his own glass.

By the time they left the table, the world looked a whole lot better. Marcus vetoed her feeble effort to deal with the dishes, and when she yawned, he said, “You’ve had a long day. Bedtime, I think.”

“Yes.” She blinked at him, not moving, and yawned again.

Marcus gave a low laugh and stood up, grasping her hands to haul her to her feet. The room tilted, and when he released her hands she clutched at his arms to steady herself. “Ooh! Too much wine.”

“Very possibly,” he agreed, and slid an arm about her waist to guide her. “Come on.”

In the spare room he led her to the bed, switched on the bedside lamp and stripped back the covers for her. “Can you manage now?” he asked, straightening. “You know where the bathroom is.”

“Yes. Thank you, Marcus.”

“You might not be thanking me in the morning.” He surveyed her with critical amusement and a hint of tenderness. “Good night, Jenna.”

He bent and brushed his lips over hers—a fleeting kiss of friendly comfort, but enough to upset Jenna’s already precarious balance, and as he lifted his head she swayed, so that instinctively he put his arm about her waist again to steady her.

She leaned against him, thankful for the solid feel of him, and her hands slid around his shoulders. She raised her face, found his mouth with hers and kissed him with fervor, her eyes closed, fiercely shutting out all thought. She didn’t want to think, only to feel something other than grief and humiliation.

And Marcus, perhaps understanding her need, returned her kiss beautifully, satisfyingly. He put his other arm about her and brought her closer, making her feel warm and wanted. Like a desirable woman.

But then he drew back, and his hands left her waist to curl about her arms and hold her away. Although his eyes glittered disturbingly and there was a flush on his angular cheekbones, his voice was steady. “Enough. Get some sleep, Jenna. I’ll see you in the morning.” Then he walked to the door and shut it firmly behind him.

Jenna slept surprisingly well but woke with a leaden feeling in her chest and a slight headache.

A hangover, she supposed. All that wine last night…

She closed her eyes again. That only brought the memory more vividly to her mind, and she groaned. She and Marcus, of all people, locked in a passionate kiss. What had possessed her? And now she was going to have to face him. She could hear him moving about already, the bathroom door closing, his footsteps in the passageway.

No use cowering in bed, he would probably come and rout her out of it, anyway. Reluctantly she threw back the covers and got up.

By the time she’d showered and dressed, the aroma of frying bacon was wafting through the dining area. Trying to look casual and unembarrassed, she went to the kitchen where Marcus was standing at the stove, breaking eggs into a pan. “That smells good.”

He turned and smiled at her. “Good morning. I heard the shower and figured you’d soon be ready for breakfast.”

“Can I help?”

“Make toast if you like. The bread’s over there.”

It wasn’t until they’d finished eating and she’d had her second cup of coffee that she gathered the courage to say, “About last night…I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“For being so…stupid. I’d had too much to drink or I wouldn’t have…”

“Kissed me?” His lips curved. “I wondered if you’d remember. You needn’t apologize, Jenna. It may have escaped your notice, but I enjoyed it.” He paused. “I thought you did too.” His eyes held a question.

Heat burned her cheeks. “I would never normally have—I didn’t mean to—”

“No need to explain.” He stood up abruptly. “Want to help me get these dishes out of the way?”

Later he took her back to her flat.

“I’ll try to get it looking a bit less like a disaster area before Katie arrives home,” she said. “It will give me something to do.”

“She won’t be here for a while. I told her there was no point while the carpet’s still drying.”

“That’s okay. I can do with some time alone.”

He gave her a sharp look but didn’t argue. “Let me know if you need anything,” he said. “I’ll be home. And if your place is still in a mess, you and Katie can both sleep at mine tonight.”

After he’d left her she picked her way around, flattened some of the carpet that had dried, moved the machines to where they’d do the most good, and cleared paths through piled furniture to beds and the kitchen.

Remembering the orderliness of Marcus’s apartment, she was spurred into an orgy of tidying and cleaning. So when Katie arrived she was on her knees, head and hands deep in a kitchen cupboard while she wiped down the shelf from which she’d removed all the pots and pans.

It wasn’t until she emerged and sat back on her heels, wiping a strand of hair from her eyes, that she realized Katie wasn’t alone.

Dean grinned down at her. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” she asked crossly. Yesterday she’d dressed carefully, if casually, and put on makeup, and he’d hardly glanced at her. Now she was a total mess and he was looking her over as if he’d never seen her before. “Where’s Callie?” she asked him.

“Jet lag caught up with her and she couldn’t stay awake. Marcus said you’d had a flood here, so I thought you girls might need some help.”

He didn’t look jet-lagged. He looked wide-awake and heartbreakingly handsome, and she wished he were anywhere but here. “There isn’t much we can do,” she said, “until the cleaning firm has been in again and fixed the carpets back in place, once they’re dry.”

“You look busy.”

“I just had this urge…I’ll be finished here in a few minutes.”

She hoped they’d go away, but instead the two of them stood about the kitchen talking, and helpfully handed her things to put back in the cupboard.

Afterward they all sat drinking coffee, and it was almost like old times until Dean pushed back his chair, saying, “I’d better get back. Callie should have woken by now.” Apparently he couldn’t bear to think of her spending any waking moment without him.

When he’d left, Katie gave Jenna a searching look. “Are you really okay?”

“Tired, after spending half the night getting rid of the flood, but otherwise I’m fine.” Without pausing for breath, Jenna asked, “How did you get on with Callie?”

“You can’t help liking her…”

“That’s good,” Jenna said enthusiastically. “It’s important that you two get along. Not that Dean would have picked a girl you wouldn’t like.”

Katie hesitated, then refrained from pursuing the subject. “I’m sorry you got stuck with the cleanup here. I would have caught the first bus back, but Marcus said there was nothing I could do that the two of you hadn’t done already.”

“He was right, there was no need for it. Marcus was great.”

“He’s good in a crisis, our big brother. And I suppose he thinks of you as another little sister.”

“I suppose,” Jenna agreed, but the memory of last night’s kiss surfaced with sudden clarity, and unexpectedly she felt her cheeks flush.

Katie noticed. Her eyes widened. “Jenna…? You and Marcus aren’t…? When he said you were staying the night I didn’t think he meant—”

“Of course not!” Jenna denied quickly. “He gave me his spare bed, that’s all. He said we could both stay tonight, by the way.”

Katie regarded her fixedly for a moment longer, then shook her head slightly as though dismissing the thought as fantastic, and looked about them. “Mmm. It’s still a bit of a mess, isn’t it? Just as well you did leave early yesterday.”

“Yes, the water would have done a lot more damage before anyone noticed it. The upstairs neighbors were away for the weekend.”

As if on cue there was a knock at the door, and Jenna hurried to open it, revealing embarrassed neighbors bearing apologies and a placatory gift of wine. She made sure that Katie had no more opportunity to question her about the night she’d spent at Marcus’s apartment.

A couple of weeks later Mr. and Mrs. Crossan held an engagement party for Dean and Callie. Katie arranged to spend the weekend at her parents’ place helping with the preparations. Casting about for an excuse not to join her, Jenna said the house would be full and anyway she had some work to get through. But of course she’d be at the party. Marcus had offered a lift.

She did sometimes bring work home from her job copy-editing documents for university staff members. It was a plausible excuse, and she made sure that Katie saw her working over a pile of papers on Friday before Dean came in his parents’ car to pick up his sister.

That week Jenna had bought a new dress and spent a very expensive session with a hairdresser, who put some subtle highlights in and gave her a new, short and sassy style.

When she met Marcus at her door on Saturday night, he looked over the low-necked bright pink dress and high-heeled shoes and said, “If you want to show Dean what he’s missing, that’ll do it.”

“It’s a party,” Jenna said defensively. Marcus looked terrific, she thought with mild surprise. She’d never taken much notice of what he wore, but he presented a picture of casual male elegance in a natural linen shirt, darker trousers and a light jacket.

On the journey they hardly spoke. Marcus seemed preoccupied, and Jenna was tense. On their arrival he opened the car door for her and briefly took her arm. “I’ll take you home whenever you’ve had enough.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jenna said, tilting her head and straightening her shoulders.

She felt an inevitable pang when Dean greeted her with a hug and a kiss on her cheek, but kept the smile on her face as she turned to Callie and handed her the gift-wrapped parcel containing a carefully chosen set of crystal wineglasses.

Callie looked radiant and Dean more handsome than ever. Jenna was glad that Marcus soon guided her away from them to get drinks. He handed her the gin and lemon she asked for, murmuring, “You’d better have something to eat too. There are nuts and dips over here.” He guided her to the table.

“Don’t worry.” Jenna took a taco chip and dipped it in guacamole. “I won’t get drunk and molest you again,” she said before nibbling at the chip.

Marcus lifted a brow. “You disappoint me, Jenna. I was looking forward to it.”

Her eyes widened. Was Marcus flirting with her?

His teasing smile said he was. Then he gave a soft laugh. “I told you I enjoyed that kiss. Is it too much to hope for a repeat performance?”

Flustered, Jenna stammered, “Yes…I mean, you know I was…I wasn’t myself that night. Katie says you’re like a big brother to me.”

“Katie says a lot of very silly things,” Marcus pronounced. He watched her take another nibble at the chip and lick at a little guacamole that had escaped. “I think I should make it clear,” he said, “that I don’t regard you as a sister.”

Disconcerted, for a brief moment she felt hurt, then she saw his eyes momentarily shift and realized that Dean was watching them. Marcus looked back at her and inclined his head close to her ear. “If you want a smokescreen, I’m available.”

Light dawned. He was pretending to be attracted by her so that Dean and anyone else with an inkling of her real feelings for him needn’t think she was a discarded wallflower.

Her pride rebelled. “You don’t need to do this, Marcus. Like I told you, I’m a grown-up.”

“I’d have said you had a bad case of arrested development, myself.”

Her eyes widening at his slightly waspish tone, she said, “What?”

“You’ve been in a state of suspended animation ever since Dean went to the States. When are you going to wake up and smell the flowers?”

“I haven’t sat at home pining,” she protested, stung by his portrayal of her languishing for love. “I’ve got an interesting job and plenty of friends—I’ve even dated a bit.”

“You haven’t had a serious relationship, have you?”

Astounded, Jenna snapped, “That’s none of your business!”

Marcus laughed aloud, the sound deep and full-throated. It transformed his face, relaxing the seemingly harsh planes of nose and cheekbones and bringing a warmer look to his eyes. She saw Dean turn again and regard his brother curiously.

“I don’t see what’s funny,” she hissed at Marcus.

The effort he made to control the curve of his mouth belied any implicit apology. “You just reminded me so much of the way you used to be as a kid.”

“Short-tempered?” she asked suspiciously.

Marcus shook his head. “You were such a little thing, but stubborn as a baby donkey. Loyal to a fault and aggressive in defense. No one could put you down. And woe betide anyone who attacked one of the twins.”

“A little monster.”

“Not at all. The loyalty may have been misguided quite often, but it’s an admirable trait, if irritating at times. And the aggression mellowed as you grew older.”

“I was pretty insecure when we arrived next door. I guess I was overcompensating.”

After her father’s death, her mother’s world had crumbled and she could hardly rouse herself to care for a bewildered and frightened six-year-old. Jenna’s father had been a farm worker trying to save money for his own herd when the tractor he was driving rolled down a hillside and killed him.

They’d had to move out to make room for her father’s replacement, and her mother had taken another cottage offered by a neighboring couple at a low rent for six months. “Until you decide what you’re going to do,” the wife said.

They didn’t realize that Karen, sunk in grief, was incapable of making decisions.

Jenna remembered the day she’d taken charge of her own life. Karen was standing with a butter knife in her hand, halfway through making Jenna’s school lunch, but had apparently forgotten what she was doing.

“The school bus will be here soon,” Jenna had told her impatiently. She’d had to go into Karen’s room that morning and wake her to get breakfast. “Mummy?”

Her mother seemed deaf. Jenna realized she was silently crying, tears dripping down her cheeks, oblivious to everything except her own pain.

It was the loneliest moment of Jenna’s short life. Lonelier than when she’d watched her father’s coffin lowered into the ground and dimly, frighteningly, known she would never see him again.

She took the knife gently in her small, capable fingers and said, “It’s all right, Mummy. I can do it myself.”

From then on she’d got her own breakfast and lunch, whether Karen was up or not, and caught the school bus on time every day.

After the six months were up, they moved to a dispirited little town that had once had a dairy factory and was now struggling to keep any population because the factory had closed and there was no work. But rent was cheap.

There was a new school too and Jenna, starting in the middle of a term, was an outsider. She suffered loneliness and some mild bullying, learned to stand up for herself and in time made a few friends.

She patiently reminded her mother when it was time to do the washing or cook dinner, or if they needed more groceries. For two years she looked after her mother as much as her mother looked after her.

Then one day Karen looked about at where they were living as if she’d never seen it before and said, “We’re moving out of here.”

They’d shifted to a pleasant dormitory village where half the population commuted to Auckland every day. Where people grew roses and hibiscus and mowed the lawns every week. Mrs. Crossan welcomed them from over the fence and invited Jenna for a swim and to play with the twins.

She thought she’d loved them both from that very first day.




Chapter Four


“What’s the dreamy little smile about?” Marcus’s voice intruded on the memory.

“I was remembering when I met Dean and Katie.” Marcus must have been there in the background too, she supposed. But she’d naturally been more interested in the twins, who were her own age.

“That accounts for it,” Marcus said dryly.

She recalled only a day full of sunshine and childish laughter, playing tag across the green grass and climbing into the wide, cradling branches of the old puriri, swinging thrillingly back to earth by way of the sturdy rope that hung from it. And her mother looking almost relaxed, acting like the mother she had been two years ago, smiling as she spoke with Mrs. Crossan and watched the children splash about in the pool.

Marcus’s voice interrupted again. “Losing a youthful dream isn’t the end of the world. One day you’ll find it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Is that how it was with you?”

When he didn’t answer, frowning as though at a loss to know what she meant, she reminded him, “You told Katie your childhood sweetheart married someone else.”

“Oh, that.” He looked slightly rueful. “It just shows, you see. I’d completely forgotten.”

“I think you made it up,” she accused.

“Not at all. When I was eleven I was madly in love with a girl in my class. A plump child with apple cheeks, and braces on her teeth. I thought they were incredibly sexy.”

“Sexy?” Jenna nearly choked on her drink.

“Eleven-year-old boys tend to be into hardware. Airplanes, motorbikes and girls with a mouthful of gleaming metal.” He looked blandly solemn.

“Did you ever get to kiss her?”

“Hell, no. I worshipped her from afar—well, two desks away—for six months, then we left for different schools the following year and I never saw her again.”

“That’s sad.” Jenna made her eyes big and sorrowful.

“A tragedy,” Marcus agreed. “Romeo and Juliet all over again.”

Jenna giggled, startled that she still remembered how to laugh. The cold leaden lump that had taken the place of her heart began to melt around the edges.

Marcus was right, she would get over her shock and secret grief. Gratefully she touched his arm. “Thanks, Marcus.”

He shrugged her off, looking faintly irritated. Then, as if to make up for it, he took her hand, his fingers curving about hers in a strong clasp. “You’ve nothing to thank me for,” he said in a rather gravelly tone. “But I’m monopolizing you. We’d better circulate.”

Later in the evening Jenna was placing a platter of rock oysters garnished with lemon slices and parsley on the long supper table, when Marcus appeared at her side.

“Looks good,” he commented. “Shall I save you some before they all go?”

“Thanks.” Jenna threw him a smile and hurried back to the kitchen to help Katie and Mrs. Crossan.

When all the food was laid out and everyone milled about with filled plates, Marcus appeared again at her side, holding a large platter piled with savories, seafood and chicken wings.

“I thought we could share.” He leaned across her to snaffle paper napkins and forks from the table. Looking about, he added, “There’s nowhere to sit. Let’s take it outside.”

He led her into a broad passageway where a few people stood about with plates and forks. “Hold this for a minute.”

Jenna stood with the loaded plate as he disappeared, to return in a few minutes with an opened bottle of wine and two glasses.

Outside, light spilled from several windows, but the perimeter of the lawn was cool and dark. Marcus made unerringly for the big old puriri tree that had been there since before the house was built.

Guessing his objective, Jenna followed. She recalled when his father had built the wooden seat around the tree. And the summer that Marcus had helped the younger ones erect a rickety tree hut in its gnarled branches. They’d used it for several years before they became too old for games and it fell to pieces.

Jenna’s mother, helped by Mrs. Crossan’s practical brand of sympathy, had gradually emerged from the half world she’d been living in, fighting her way back to a normal life. She’d found a job working for a publishing house, first part-time in the office and later full-time in charge of distribution. Mrs. Crossan had promised to keep an eye on Jenna after school.

Once, when Jenna was thirteen, Karen had considered moving to a shoreside suburb closer to her office in Auckland, but when she suggested it Jenna had dissolved in angry tears. All the insecurities and misery of the two years after her father’s death rose to the surface in furious, door-slamming, hysterical protest. The subject was never mentioned again.

Jenna sat on the worn, smooth wood of the seat, placing the food between herself and Marcus. A breeze stirred the leaves overhead, and she rubbed at her arms.





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