Page 36 of His to Keep
She gulped back her nerves. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Her mouth dried up like the desert, unsure what she wanted to say to him.
Silence.
Marcus cleared his throat. “The counsellor phoned. Your appointment is at one thirty, beautiful?” he announced. “Are you okay?”
Her heart lit up under the power of his words. “I’m feeling good. Talking about it won’t change the fact it happened,” she said with false confidence. “I’ll pass on the counselling.”
His sigh whispered through the connection. “Lana, you should consider it. Please.”
“Can I see you? I think we should talk,” she added through quivering breaths, ignoring his plea for pointless counselling.
“I’ve just arrived in Monaco,” he said matter of factly. “Are you staying with your friend?”
Her stomach knotted. “Yeah. I’m going to Butler & Walcott Estate Agency tomorrow to look for an apartment,” she replied with a half-hearted shrug.
“Look, I’m wrapped up in business for a few weeks. I can reschedule a counsellor for you,” he suggested, but it was more like a boss instructing an employee without any hint of desire to see her.
“Marcus, we should’ve talked it out properly.” She winced. “I know I’ve been crazy lately, but I’m working on it, we can work on it together.”
Silence.
“Marcus?” she demanded.
Finally, he spoke. “I don’t want a relationship, Lana. I’m sorry.”
Her scalp prickled. “Okay… fine… I just thought we could talk. Don’t worry about it. Thanks for taking my call.”
“Wait, Lana,” he barked as she was about to cut him off. “Whatever you need, just let me know. Anything at all.”
She quickly ended the call and slumped into the sofa, drawing her knees up and her palms close.
He couldn’t give her what she really wanted—him.
16
Marcus left Northern Ireland to attend a rescheduled appointment in Monaco.
He reverted to business mode, trying to gauze up the gaping hole in his heart.
At the start of the year he had purchased a desirable and extravagant hotel on the Mediterranean coastline overlooking the yacht-lined harbour. All his hotels were given an internal facelift to meet his particular style, which had become legendary in the hotelier circle.
This trip was primarily business, although his brother Jamie was stopping in for a few nights, before flying to Italy to conduct his own business deals. When possible the two men met up, spending time together talking business, family matters and most importantly drinking and having sex with gorgeous women.
He brought forward a meeting to discuss decor ideas with a renowned interior designer. The consultation dragged on for a few hours, becoming tedious as the over dramatic and flamboyant, Cherie Monique, got lost in a whirlwind of inspiration.
He had people who could run through this shit with her, but it was best to deal with her directly. To take control. To keep himself busy.
Cherie had worked for him on a previous renovation - her ideas and final creation met with his approval. On this occasion, the French beauty had once again provided a vision that sat well with his unwavering brief, but today his mind was elsewhere. His thoughts stuck to the last conversation he had with Lana.
He was constantly on edge from the minute she stormed out of his life, so when her pretty face lit up the small screen on the mobile phone, his mind had raced with possibilities.
Her sexy husky voice held a whisper of hope. An all-consuming need to wrap himself around her in every possible way had burned through his soul. He wanted her more than he wanted the millions in his bank account.
A rampage of possibilities charged through his head like a stampede only to be halted by Mal’s harsh warning. He ended up hurting Lana after all. However, it was better to end it sooner rather than later, before she actually meant those three little words.
Cherie clicked her fingers in front of his face, snapping him out of his reverie.
“Your brother, is he here?” she asked in a thick French accent.
