CHAPTER TEN

True to his word, and despite Roxy's misgivings, James spent a considerable amount of time with her during the three weeks following their return from the Drakensberg. He took her boating on the dam on two occasions, and they dined often at a restaurant in the city where the portly restaurateur, Carlo, welcomed her like an old friend. The veils shrouding her memory were being lifted one by one, and yet something vital remained missing; the link that joined it all together to make one whole. It was frustrating, but after a visit to Dr Gordon, she felt less anxious, and more confident about the immediate future.

It was while she was in Basil Vaughn's consulting-rooms for a check-up that she recalled something quite disturbing. He took her hands in his and raised them to his lips, using words that lifted the veil a little higher in her mind.

'You know how I feel about you, ' he said, his pale grey eyes observing her intently when her expression registered shock, at first, and then dismay.

'Yes, I know, ' she whispered, remembering every detail now of his proposal after they had attended a party at his golf club.

'Do you remember that I asked you once to marry me? ' he asked quietly.

'I remember it now. '

His hands tightened about hers. 'Dare I hope that you might give me an answer soon? '

She lowered her eyes and shifted uncomfortably on the high stool which had brought her on a level with his height. She did not want to hurt him, but she knew she could not let him continue hoping for something she could not give him.

'I'm fond of you, Basil, but I could never marry you, ' she finally broke the strained, expectant silence. 'I don't love you—not the way you would want me to—I'm sorry. '

He lowered his head over her hands and nodded slowly. 'I appreciate your honesty, but I've been a fool to keep on hoping when I've suspected all along that there's someone else. '

'Forgive me, ' she whispered contritely.

'There's nothing to forgive, ' he smiled self-consciously. 'We're still friends, aren't we? '

'Oh, yes, ' she said hastily, curling her fingers about his. 'You'll always be my very dear friend. '

He turned away then, and thrust his hands into the pockets of his white coat. 'How much have you remembered, Roxy? '

'Snatches here and there; little incidents that seem to have no relation to anything at all, as though I'm building a puzzle with every second piece missing. '

He picked up his pen and twisted it between his fingers while he studied her thoughtfully. 'Do you recall coming here and insisting that I do the operation? '

Another piece of the puzzle jolted into place, and she nodded. 'I remember that now, but I can't think why I should have been so insistent. '

'You said that you'd reached the end, and that it didn't matter to you one way or the other. '

'Did I give you any idea why I should have felt that way? ' she asked after a startled pause.

'You refused to give an explanation when I asked for one. '

Roxy felt more than ordinarily disturbed, but she knew from past experience that it would do no good to brood, or to endeavour to probe deeper into the shadows that still lurked in her mind, so she shrugged it off with a sigh.

'I suppose I shall remember it all in time, ' she echoed the advice everyone was always passing on to her and, picking up her handbag, she prepared to leave his rooms. 'When do I have to see you again? '

'In a month's time for the final check-up, ' he said, glancing at his desk calendar before he looked up and added with professional severity, 'It's important, so make a note of it. '

Roxy drove herself home that morning in the Peugeot with Maggie keeping a watchful eye beside her. She had improved rapidly since her first driving lesson under Maggie's expert supervision, and soon, she hoped, she would obtain her driver's licence. It gave her a wonderful sense of freedom to be able to drive herself where she wanted to be, and it did wonders for her bruised independence.

She sat out on the terrace after lunch that day to soak up the sun, but her peace was disturbed when Sheba growled beside her. Roxy placed a restraining hand on her collar, and looked up to see a pretty, dark-haired girl coming up the steps towards her, but she failed to identify her visitor until the girl spoke.

'Well, well, well, ' she said with characteristic petulance tinged with sarcasm. 'So I get to see you at last. '

'Hello, Vera, ' Roxy smiled, gesturing towards the chair opposite her own while she took in the appearance of her elegantly clad visitor and tried to decide whether she was disappointed or not. 'What do you mean—at last? '

'Well, your father and Maggie have been guarding you as if you were a precious piece of china, ' Vera explained with that familiar touch of sarcasm as she seated herself, and Roxy heard the faint swish of her nylons as she carefully crossed her shapely legs. 'Absolutely no visitors they said. '

'I didn't know, ' Roxy murmured with dawning comprehension.

Vera's dark eyes slid down to the golden labrador sitting up in a watchful attitude beside Roxy's chair. 'Your dog has never liked me either. '

'Sheba means no harm, ' Roxy assured her defensively, her hand caressing the animal's head. 'She's merely protective. '

Vera studied Roxy thoughtfully, then she asked in her usual candid manner, 'Can you actually see me? '

'I can see you very clearly, ' Roxy replied, inwardly amused.

Vera shivered. 'It makes me feel a bit peculiar knowing that. '

'Why should it? ' Roxy asked, a little startled, sliding her glance over the perfectly proportioned figure in the narrow green skirt and matching jacket, but it was the full, rather petulant mouth that told her most of what she had wanted to know. 'You're almost exactly as I imagined you would be. '

Vera stared at her a little suspiciously, but Roxy's calm expression gave no indication of her thoughts at that moment.

'What have you been doing with yourself since your operation? ' Vera asked eventually.

'Nothing much, ' Roxy shrugged. 'I went away for two weeks, but since my return I've been learning to drive a car, and I'm thinking of studying part-time for my law degree. '

'Aren't you a bit too old for that? '

'I don't think so, ' Roxy argued. 'I was twenty-three two months ago, but one is never too old to further one's education. '

'I've been away myself. Only returned a few days ago from a month's holiday in Switzerland, ' Vera explained, fingering the wide pleat in her skirt, then she raised her slightly narrowed glance to Roxy's. 'I saw Marcus last night. '

'Marcus? ' Roxy questioned uneasily, trying to understand why Vera's mention of that name should disturb her so much.

'I forgot. You've lost your memory, I'm told, ' Vera smiled a little sarcastically. 'Just as well, perhaps. He was dining with a divine-looking blonde, and they appeared to be terribly chummy. '

'It makes no difference to me who—who this man dines with, ' Roxy explained haltingly. 'I don't recall him at all. '

'As I said—just as well, ' Vera smiled again that twisted, spiteful little smile, then she added with what could only be described as satisfaction, 'There are rumours of marriage doing the rounds of the social circles. No one seems to know who the lucky girl is going to be, but my bet is that it's the blonde I saw him with last night. '

Roxy experienced an unexpected stab of pain for which she could find no explanation, and she was speechless with concentration while she tried desperately to remember.

'Telephone for you, Miss Roxy, ' Maggie interrupted from the french windows leading out on to the terrace, but Vera rose elegantly to her feet before Roxy could motivate herself into action.

'Oh, well, you must excuse me, ' she smiled, adding a little confidentially, 'I have a super date for this evening, and I'm on my way to the hairdresser's. '

Roxy stared after her for a moment before going inside to take the call. She wondered excitedly whether it would be James, but when she lifted the receiver it was her father's voice explaining that he would not be in to dinner that evening, and that she was not to wait up for him. She assured him that she would be perfectly all right, but she spent a disturbing afternoon brooding over the conversation she had had with Vera Sinclair. The call she had expected from James did not materialise either, and the thought of spending the evening alone did not appeal to her.

She wanted to telephone James to invite him to spend the evening with her, but she had never thought to ask for his number, and he had never proffered it. It seemed a little strange, now that she thought of it, but she went through to her father's study after dinner that evening, and undauntedly searched through the directory for the number she required. She knew that James had a flat in the city, but there was only one J. Allen listed in the book, and he lived somewhere in Parktown.

'Damn! ' she muttered to herself, fingering the directory idly, then, on an inexplicable impulse, she paged on towards the F's and slid her finger casually down the columns until she encountered the surname 'Fleming'. There were several, but one in particular jarred her mind violently. The initials were 'M. J. A. ' and the flat number was '603'.

Something inside her clamoured for release, and the perspiration stood out on her forehead when she picked up the receiver and dialled the number that was indicated. She had to know. She had to!

For several frightening seconds she heard nothing except the persistent ringing of the telephone at the other end, and the thundering beat of her own heart, then a feminine voice answered and asked who was calling.

It was a well-modulated and faintly musical voice that struck deep into Roxy's brain with an agonising precision that made the room spin wildly about her, then, as if to clarify the memories that came rushing back into her mind with the force of a hurricane, the receiver was taken from the woman and a man's voice demanded sharply, 'Who is that? '

Roxy replaced the receiver swiftly with hands that shook when she felt the blood drain from her face, then the carpeted floor of her father's study threatened to rise up and meet her, but she clutched at the desk and leaned against it heavily with her head bowed until the tumultuous soaring ceased in her ears.

The shutters in her mind had opened like floodgates, and the missing pieces of the puzzle now tumbled into place, each one of them stabbing at her soul with renewed and agonising vigour. She had been duped once again by a man who cared no more for her than he cared for all the other women who came and went in his life, but the most hurtful part of it all was the fact that her father, the one person she had trusted above all others, had played a significant role in this final, most humiliating deception.

God, they had been clever, she thought bitterly as she left the study and went up to her room. 'But not clever enough, ' a little voice told her. 'The final scene is yours to play as you wish. '

There was little comfort in that thought, but during the long sleepless hours of the night she began to realise its potential. She would play their game a little while longer, then, at the appropriate moment, she would have her revenge, and she promised herself that it would be sweet.

James telephoned her early the following morning and invited her to have dinner with him that evening, and she naturally accepted at once. There was something of importance he wished to discuss with her, he had said, and she could well imagine that he was beginning to feel the pinch of the dual roles he was playing.

Roxy dressed with care that evening, and selected her new emerald green evening gown of soft, embroidered silk. The neckline plunged a little daringly, but it enhanced the beauty of her slender neck and smooth, creamy shoulders. Her auburn hair had grown considerably over the past weeks, and in the light above the dressing-table it shone with a touch of gold as she brushed it into that new sweeping style which had been recommended by her hairdresser. The eyes that met hers in the mirror looked calm and steady, almost as if they belonged to someone else, and they hid successfully the nervousness and tension which seemed to have taken possession of every muscle and every nerve in her body.

The evening did not progress quite as she had imagined it would. She found herself staring with mixed feelings at the man seated opposite her, and endlessly had to remind herself of his treachery when her hungry yearning for him overruled her bitterness and deep-seated anger. The forcefulness of his strong personality was etched deeply in her heart and mind, and she wondered now how she could have forgotten his existence so completely over the past months.

Piercing blue eyes probed her shuttered glance, and a frown appeared between the heavy brows. 'Is something troubling you, Roxy? '

'Why should there be something troubling me? ' she demanded with forced casualness.

'You've been very quiet this evening—almost preoccupied. ' His hand found hers across the table, and that familiar current of awareness passed through her as he leaned towards her anxiously. 'You're not feeling ill, are you? '

'No, ' she shook her head, trying to decide whether his concern was genuine, or part of the act. 'I've never felt better, ' she added with a hint of flippancy in her voice.

He released her hand and leaned back in his chair to observe her with a brooding expression on his face. His rapier-sharp eyes travelled from her new hairstyle down to the seductive hollow between her breasts before it swept upwards to her face once more as if searching for something.

'You're different, somehow, ' he admitted at last, and she smiled inwardly with cynical satisfaction.

'I feel different, ' she admitted with care.

His glance sharpened perceptibly. 'Something happened to make you feel this way? '

'One could say so, yes, ' she said, bitterness curving her usually soft mouth.

'Want to tell me about it? ' he asked, his eyes watchful.

'Later, perhaps, ' she waved aside the subject. 'I believe there was something you wanted to discuss with me? '

'That can wait as well, ' he said with an odd, almost haunted expression in his eyes. 'More coffee? '

'No, thank you. '

His mouth tightened ominously. 'Shall we go, then? '

'I think so. '

He ushered her out of the continental atmosphere of Carlo's restaurant and into the cool March night to where he had parked his dark-green Lamborghini, and she welcomed its plush interior when her legs began to shake beneath her. The engine purred to life, and the car slid into the traffic under the expert guidance of those strong hands at the wheel. Roxy knew what she had to do, it had all been rigidly planned beforehand, but in the intimately confined space of his car she felt her senses sharpening at his nearness. Her mind remained hard and unforgiving, but her treacherous heart throbbed with a warmth and longing to know the touch of his lips. She wanted to feel those muscled arms about her just once more before she walked out of his life for the last time.

The car turned off to the left after the traffic lights had stopped them, and her mind cleared with a sharp jolt. 'This isn't the way to my home, ' she said accusingly.

'I'm not taking you home. '

He had spoken calmly yet decisively, but there had been something in his voice that had sent a trickle of fear coursing up her spine, and she glanced at him warily, taking in the rigid contours of his face in the dashboard light.

'May. 1 know where you're taking me? ' she asked at last, passing the tip of her tongue nervously over her dry lips.

'I'm taking you to my flat. ' The words grated jarringly along her nerves, and left her momentarily speechless. He turned his head to glance at her briefly, then he asked mockingly, 'No comment? '

'I'm surprised you've waited this long before taking me there, ' she replied with a bravado she was far from experiencing.

'Had I known you wouldn't object I would have done so some time ago, ' he continued to mock her, but when no flippant reply came to her rescue, he asked, 'Does the thought of being alone with me in my flat frighten you, or excite you? '

She looked at him then, and said with appropriate casualness, 'I haven't made up my mind about that yet. '

'You're a cool customer this evening, I must say, ' he laughed, but the sound was harsh and frightening, and she lapsed into a silence which lasted until he drove his car down into the basement of a building that was new to her, and yet familiar.

The lift took them at a sickening pace from the basement up to the sixth floor, but anything was preferable to being closeted in that small steel cage with this man whom she loved yet feared. He had hurt her more than she had imagined possible, and he would hurt her again without the slightest compunction if she did not guard against it.

Hard fingers latched on to her arm as the doors slid open. If thoughts of escape had perhaps occurred to her, then he gave her no opportunity to do so, and she was steered swiftly towards the panelled door on their right. Ten paces, Maggie had told her that fateful night which now seemed to have drifted an eternity into the past, but in her ridiculously high-heeled sandals it took her several paces more before they reached the door. His key turned silently in the lock, and seconds later she found herself in the modern interior of what appeared to be a solely masculine domain. It was furnished in leather and solid wood, the colours ranging from a deep tobacco brown to a pale creamy beige, and nowhere was there the slightest evidence that a woman had shared the flat with him the night before. She could not say the same for the bedrooms, naturally, but in the lounge itself not a sign of a feminine presence was visible.

Roxy was gestured into a wide, padded armchair while he crossed the room towards the oak cupboard against the wall. He took out two glasses, and from the small, built-in refrigerator he produced a bottle of champagne. She watched in surprised fascination while he undid the wrapper and eased off the cork, but she averted her glance when he looked up at her unexpectedly with a sardonic gleam in his eyes. The cork shot off loudly, jolting her nerves, and then he was pouring the sparkling liquid into the glasses.

'What are we celebrating? ' she asked suspiciously when a glass was placed in her trembling hand.

'Who knows? ' he shrugged, his mocking eyes raking over her slender, taut frame. 'Before this night is over we may find we have something to celebrate. '

Her cheeks flamed, and her hand shook to such an extent that she was forced to hold the glass with both hands for fear of spilling the liquid into her lap. 'Did you bring me here to seduce me? '

'That's usually why I bring women here, ' he smiled cynically, placing his glass on the low table between them and turning towards the hi-fi which was built into the shelves against the wall. 'Shall I put on a record? Something, perhaps, that will smooth your ruffled feathers and make it easier for me? '

'What about Beethoven's Appassionata? ' she suggested stiffly, recalling with agonising poignancy the music she had heard coming from his flat that night when she had paid him such an untimely and unwanted visit.

'Good choice, ' he remarked, placing the record on the turntable, and moments later the familiar, nostalgic music filled the room.

'What shall we drink to? ' she asked nervously when he picked up his glass and stood staring down at her with a speculative gleam in those intensely blue eyes.

'To us, ' he said at once, but she stopped him before the glass reached his lips.

'I would rather drink to something more specific. '

'Such as? ' he smiled down at her.

This was the moment she had waited for, but now that the stage was set, she was afraid, and she had to grab hold of her faltering courage before it deserted her entirely. She rose to her feet and, with a cynical smile playing about her mouth, lifted her glass in salute.

'Let's drink to the end of a superbly played masquerade, Marcus James Allen Fleming, ' she stated in cold, precise tones, and she had the satisfaction of seeing his ruggedly tanned features darken to a dull red before the blood drained away to leave him peculiarly pale.

He flicked a switch and the music ceased abruptly, then his voice exploded hoarsely into the electrifying silence. 'You know? '

'Yes, I'm afraid I do. '

'Everything? '

'Yes. '

His eyes, dark and fathomless in his white face, probed hers. 'When did this happen? '

'Last night, ' she said abruptly, her throat working with the effort to control the bitter tears which rose and threatened to choke her. 'Why didn't you tell me who you really were? '

His glass, untouched, followed hers down on to the low table between them. 'Believe it or not, I was afraid to, ' he said at last, the muscles jerking in his jaw. 'After the way you reacted in the clinic I was afraid that knowing my true identity might upset you further. '

'So you became James Allen, ' she laughed unsteadily, but in her heart there was no laughter, only pain and bitter disillusionment. 'It was very clever of you, I must say, and what fun you must have had laughing at my ignorance! '

'Roxy... '

'Tell me one thing, ' she interrupted him swiftly. 'How did you explain me away to your lady friend? '

His eyes narrowed. 'What lady friend are you referring to? '

'Oh, yes, ' she laughed cynically, turning away from him so that he would not see the agony mirrored in her eyes. 'I'd forgotten there could possibly be several women in your life, but the one I'm referring to is the one who was here that evening when I came to see you with the misguided hope of explaining away the misunderstanding which had occurred between us. She was here again last night, and I presume that it's the same woman you dined with two evenings ago. '

'You presume correctly, ' he told her coldly. 'How did you discover this? '

'Vera Sinclair happened to see you dining together the other evening, and.. she swallowed convulsively. 'It was I who telephoned last night. '

'I see, ' he remarked in that same, coldly detached voice. 'Why did you ring this number? '

'I was alone at home, and I looked up this number when I couldn't find your name in the telephone directory, ' she replied with a bitter honesty that seemed to be wrenched from her very soul. 'Two things struck me simultaneously—the flat number and your initials. I became more than just suspicious, and I dialled the number out of curiosity. When I heard that—that woman's voice, I knew, and when you took the receiver from her to speak into it, my mind cracked wide open to—to the deception you and my father have practised with such care. I knew everything; every hateful detail of every deceitful incident, and I—I think I despise you both for humiliating me in this way. '

'It was never our intention to humiliate you. '

'Oh, no, of course not, ' she exclaimed, swinging round to face him and flashing him a glance filled with angry sarcasm. 'You were both merely concerned with assisting the restoration of my memory, and while I'm certain that my father had only that in mind, you had to take it a bit further. You wanted to derive as much personal pleasure out of the situation, and you did so without regard for my feelings once the truth were known. '

'Roxy, listen to me. '

'No, you listen to me! ' she cried with the bitter taste of gall in her mouth as she brushed off his hands, and stared up at him with eyes filling with the stinging moisture of angry tears. 'I've taken about as much as I can stand from the people I believed I could trust, but I hate and despise you most of all for your deceit, and I hope I never have to see you again! '

She picked up her purse and fled towards the door, intent upon leaving before she burst into tears and made a complete fool of herself, but hard, punishing hands gripped her shoulders in a vice and she was thrust violently into a chair.

'Sit down! ' he snarled at her, thrusting her back into the chair when she tried to brush off his hands in order to escape.

'How dare you treat me like this! ' she demanded.

'I'll treat you any damn way I please, Roxana Cunningham, ' he told her harshly, his lips drawn back against his teeth in an angry snarl, and she shrank from the fury in his eyes when he leaned over her threateningly with his hands on the arms of her chair. 'If you think you're the only one who's been living under the pressure of strain these past months, then you're mistaken. At first I had to put up with your touchiness because of your blindness, and the barricade you'd erected because of your ridiculous idea that you could never be more than a burden to a man. Then there was that stupid misunderstanding that plunged me into the depths of hell. I went a little mad, I think, and for a time I considered settling in South America, but when I finally discovered the truth I found I was too late to prevent you from taking a step which could have killed you as certainly as it had cured you. God, Roxy, ' he groaned white-faced, moving away from her and pushing his hands through his crisp hair, 'I don't think you'll ever know what I felt like when I rushed into that clinic to discover that the operation had been in progress since thirty minutes before my arrival. I aged years while I sat there in that infernal waiting-room with your father, and then, when you were told I wanted to see you, you collapsed hysterically and wiped me out of your memory along with a lot of other things. '

She stared up at him in complete bewilderment. She had never before seen him look so disturbed, so utterly distraught and tormented, but there was still too much bitterness churning through her.

'You surely didn't expect a welcome from me after that humiliating experience I'd suffered at your hands? ' she demanded coldly. 'I swallowed my pride and came to see you—to explain—but you sent me away. You had a woman with you, and I was no one of importance. '

'Do you think I haven't suffered because of the way I treated you in my anger that night? ' he stormed at her with a harshness that made her flinch inwardly. 'For months I had to sit back nursing my guilt while I was allowed only to watch you from a distance, and you'll never know what I've gone through these past weeks as James Allen. Roxy, I could shake you! ' he thundered at her, his eyes blazing down into hers as he gripped her by the shoulders and lifted her almost bodily out of the chair so that she landed heavily against the hard wall of his chest. 'Don't you know that I love you, that I love every hair on your beautiful head, every bone in your delectable body, every inflection in your voice, your eyes, your touch. Oh, God, I'm like a man who's lost all sense of direction unless you're there to give purpose to my life, Roxy. '

He was saying incredibly wonderful things, but could she believe him? Dared she? she wondered as she avoided his descending lips. 'What about that woman who was here with you last night? ' she demanded suspiciously. 'Where does she fit into your plans if you can say these things to me and expect me to believe you? '

A smile curved his stern mouth as his hands slid from her shoulders down to her waist. 'The woman who answered the telephone last night is Gail Rivers, and she's my sister. '

'Your sister! ' she gasped incredulously.

'Her husband, Nigel, farms up north, and Gail makes a habit of invading my flat when she comes down to Johannesburg on her shopping sprees. '

'Oh, Marcus! ' she groaned, leaning against him to hide the tears of relief that filled her eyes.

'Contrary to what you may have thought, this has been a strictly male domain since the day we met. There have been only two exceptions—my sister, and now yourself. '

'What can I say? ' she whispered contritely, cursing herself for having had so little faith in him, and for the unnecessary unhappiness she had caused both Marcus and herself.

'You could try telling me that I haven't hoped in vain that you might one day learn to care for me, ' he suggested wryly, lifting her face to his and brushing away her tears with his lips.

'But you know I love you, ' she cried without hesitation, raising her tear-stained eyes to his and allowing him for the first time to see what lay in their depths. 'I've loved you desperately for so long. That's why it all hurt so much to think that you were merely amusing yourself with me. '

'I ought to punish you for that, ' he ground out the words, and then she was being kissed as she had never been kissed before. There was tenderness and passion, and finally a driving need that drove them deeper into each other's arms until she returned his kisses with a matching hunger. 'Darling, ' he groaned at last, drawing his lips from hers to bury them against her throat where her pulse leapt wildly. 'Tell me again that you love me. '

'I love you—very much. So much, ' she added unsteadily, 'that I'll do whatever you ask of me, and I'll be whatever you want me to be. '

For a moment he did not react, then he drew away from her slightly to stare down at her quizzically. 'Are you offering me your sweet body, Roxy? '

A hot wave of colour surged into her cheeks, but she held his mocking glance unwaveringly. 'If that's what you want of me, yes. '

During the ensuing silence she recalled that he had once stated that he preferred variety to marriage, and if marriage was excluded from what he had to offer her, then she loved him enough to accept it.

'The temptation is irresistible, but I want much more than that, ' he said at last, a warmth and tenderness in his eyes she had never seen there before, and a peculiar weakness invaded her limbs. 'I want more than the occasional stolen hour or two in bed with you, ' he was saying, his voice vibrating with emotion. 'I want you there at night when I go to sleep, and when I awake in the morning, but most of all I want you there as my wife. '

'Marcus... ' Her voice broke with the incredible happiness flooding through her. Unashamedly she tightened her arms about his neck and showered him with kisses while she whispered brokenly, 'Oh, Marcus, I can't think of anything I want more than to be your wife. '

'It will have to be soon, though, ' he warned sternly when he eventually released her from another soul-searching kiss which had created delicious havoc with her emotions. 'I don't enjoy living the life of a celibate, and I've been doing so since that day you walked all over me on the way to your father's office. '

She stared at him in disbelief. 'Dare I believe you? '

'You'd better, ' he warned, his eyes darkening with desire as he drew her down on to the sofa. 'How soon will you marry me? '

His fingers trailed a path of destruction from her throat down to the shadowy hollow between her breasts, and her voice quivered with suppressed emotion when she said: 'I'll marry you as soon as you wish. '

'What about this evening? ' he suggested surprisingly, his fingers exploring boldly now beneath the embroidered silk bodice, and her body responded wildly to his touch.

'That's crazy, ' she protested even though she agreed silently with every fibre of her being.

'Perhaps it is crazy, ' he admitted, his sensuous mouth moving with delicious insistence across her smooth shoulder where his impatient hand had already brushed aside the narrow strap of her dress. 'The necessary documents have been lying in my desk drawer for days now, and there's a magistrate living two floors up, so why should we wait? '

'I hate to think what my father will say if I agree to this, ' she whispered tremulously, and more than half way to agreeing.

'Telephone him and invite him over, but don't be surprised when you discover that he's given his consent to our marriage weeks ago. '

'Are you serious? ' she demanded incredulously, struggling free of his lips and hands in order to think clearly.

'Absolutely serious, ' Marcus nodded, stretching out a hand towards the telephone and extending the receiver towards her. 'Want to give him a call? '

Devilment lurked in her eyes as she shook her head and said: 'Make the necessary arrangements first. Your magistrate may be unwilling to perform a wedding ceremony at this late hour. '

He smiled triumphantly and kissed her hard on the mouth. 'I'll double his fee. ' A few minutes later he replaced the receiver and turned to her with a look of satisfaction on his face. 'It's all arranged for eleven-thirty. '

Was she mad agreeing to marry him in such a frantic hurry? she wondered breathlessly, losing herself in the blue depths of his eyes, but the thought of having to go through the usual engagement period before the eventual marriage was too much even for her to bear.

Marcus leaned towards her urgently and, almost as if he had read her thoughts, he said: 'Why waste unnecessary time? We've known each other long enough, and we both know we'll never make it through a three-week engagement. '

She coloured and nodded silently, her eyes luminous and unshadowed for the first time in many months as she got up and stepped over his long legs to reach the telephone. She hesitated only briefly before lifting the receiver and dialling her father's number at home, and it rang for a considerable time before he answered it.

'Daddy, I thought I should let you know I'm spending the night with Marcus at his flat, ' she stated mischievously, laughing silently down into Marcus's eyes when her father spluttered and exploded over the telephone, then, when the opportunity arose, she added calmly, 'If you want to be in time to witness our marriage, then you'd better get yourself here in a hurry. You have an hour. '

She returned the receiver to its cradle and thought a little wickedly, 'Let him stew a while in that! ' but she giggled uncontrollably when she glanced at Marcus to find him shaking with silent laughter. She was pulled down into his arms the next instant to be kissed with an intensity that left her flushed and trembling.

'I think you've forgotten something, ' she said at last and, when he raised a quizzical eyebrow, she added: 'A wedding ring. '

'Want to bet? ' he demanded with that familiar mocking smile as he set her aside. He left the room and returned a few seconds later with a circle of gold between his forefinger and thumb which he held up for her inspection. 'One wedding ring as requested. '

'You've thought of everything, it seems, ' she remarked a little dryly. 'I'm beginning to suspect that this evening is developing exactly as you planned it. '

Marcus sobered at once and pocketed the ring before he joined her on the sofa. 'On Gail's advice I planned to inform you of my true identity this evening. What happened after that I was prepared to leave entirely up to you. '

Several thoughts raced through her mind at once, but only one seemed to deserve her immediate attention, and she glanced up at him frowningly. 'Who told you about the note I'd received which cancelled our appointment? '

'Carlo, ' he told her grimly. 'I questioned Maggie afterwards, and between us we came to the conclusion that Vera Sinclair was the only one who could possibly have sent that note. It didn't take much to get Vera to admit it either. '

'Like everyone else, Vera practised her own deceit, ' Roxy sighed with a touch of sadness.

'She's spiteful and spoiled, ' Marcus confirmed, placing a finger beneath her chin and raising her face to his. 'You're not still hating us for deceiving you a little, are you? '

'It would serve you right if I changed my mind this minute about marrying you, don't you think? ' she teased.

'You little wretch, ' he grunted, his arms threatening to crush her ribs to a pulp while his mouth found hers with a sensuality that drove coherent thought from her mind as he manoeuvred her into a reclining position on the sofa.

Her zip offered no resistance when his fingers tugged at it, and it slid down smoothly to bare her back. The expertise of those caressing hands against her skin made her tremble responsively, and soon the fire of her desire was kindled. She clung to him weakly, her total surrender urging him on until she was conscious only of drifting on a cloud of sweet, throbbing ecstasy.

The chime of a bell penetrated her dulled senses and she stirred uneasily beneath him, but it was only when the chime was repeated that his hands stilled against the rounded fullness of her breasts. Desire still smouldered in his eyes when he drew away from her, and he smiled that faintly mocking smile that no longer had the power to hurt her as he zipped her into her dress.

'Saved by the bell, ' he said thickly, getting to his feet and striding towards the door.

'Would somebody mind telling me what's going on? ' Theodore demanded a few moments later, pinning his daughter down with a severe glance when she rose unsteadily to her feet. 'Roxy? '

Outwardly calm, but inwardly floundering in the wake of her aroused emotions, her explanation came tumbling out, and there was a dash of mockery thrown in for good measure. 'I've remembered everything, and Marcus and I have discussed the matter, and we've decided not to waste unnecessary time in legalising our affair, which I trust will last until the end of our lives. '

She coloured and felt a little foolish during the ensuing silence until Marcus placed his arm about her shoulders and remarked dryly, 'Only a woman, Theodore, has that uncanny ability to string half a dozen statements into one sentence without so much as pausing for breath. '

'And only a woman would expect to be understood, ' Theodore nodded exasperatedly.

'Only a woman as happy as I am at this moment would refrain from doing you both a physical injury, ' Roxy intervened sharply, regaining her composure.

'Roxy, my dear, ' her father smiled, holding out his arms, and when she stepped into them he held her tightly and kissed her with sincere warmth. 'This is not at all the kind of wedding I'd visualised for you, but I'm happy with whatever you have decided. '

The magistrate arrived a few minutes later. He was a short, stout little man with inquisitive eyes and an irritating twitch in his left shoulder, but they were married fifteen minutes later, and the necessary document to prove it was safely tucked away in Marcus's wallet.

A fresh bottle of champagne was opened, and an hour later Roxy found herself alone with Marcus, with empty champagne glasses littering the small tables in the living-room, and a gold band fitting snugly on her finger to indicate her new status. This must be a dream, she told herself. How could an evening that had started out so badly end in such a joyously happy way?

She withstood the intense scrutiny of her newly acquired husband's eyes, and laughed a little unsteadily when she felt her cheeks grow warm. 'This has really been the most unconventional wedding, but I don't think I would have had it any other way. '

His eyes glinted humorously. 'Ours has been an unconventional courtship, and it's too late now to do anything about it. '

'Do you realise that, in the rush, neither of us gave a thought to the fact that I'm here without a change of clothing? ' She gestured towards the evening gown she was wearing, and raised her eyebrows in an expression of mock horror. 'Can you imagine the conclusion people will jump to in the morning when they see me walk out of here in this? '

'Who cares? ' he demanded, his deep voice vibrating with an undercurrent of sensuality that made her pulse quicken receptively as he took her hands in his and drew her against him until his lips brushed against her forehead. 'I could always lend you a toothbrush, and for tonight, my sweet wife, you won't need clothes. '

Her faint gasp of embarrassment died beneath his lips and, lifting her in his arms, Marcus carried her through to his bedroom where, with infinite gentleness and care, he removed her clothes and proceeded to transform her into a fulfilled, drowsily content woman.

Everything had happened too swiftly for her to develop pre-wedding nerves, but she was glad of that now as she snuggled closer to his hard, muscular body and slid her hand across his hair-roughened chest.

'I love you very much, Marcus James Allen Fleming, ' she murmured against his throat, and his arms tightened about her instantly.

'And I love you, Roxana Fleming, and don't ever doubt that, ' he replied throatily, seeking her mouth with his.

They talked for a long time in hushed whispers, dispersing with the doubts which had cast a shadow on their earlier relationship before her operation, then he made love to her once more, and she was awakened to the sensual delights she had never known existed until he had taken command of her untutored body. Now, a little wiser than before, she responded with an eager warmth, and his expertise as a lover took her to the peak of desire and beyond until she was delivered once again into that world of cascading sensations that made her cling to him helplessly in the aftermath of passion.

'God, Roxy, ' he groaned, the burning warmth of his lips travelling from her throat to her breast. 'If I lived a thousand years it wouldn't be long enough to tell you how much I love you. '

What need was there of words when actions spoke so much clearer? she thought, tenderness flowing from her stroking fingertips as they found joy in exploring his broad shoulders and muscled back. He was hers and no one else's, and it was with this thought that those weeks and months of agonising misery faded into oblivion when she finally drifted sleepily in his strong, protective arms.

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