‘Well, whatever,’ she said with a nonchalant shrug. ‘I have no idea where Marcus is or what he’s doing and I really don’t care.’
‘OK, you win,’ said Lily with a smile and a dismissive wave of her hand that had she been firing on all cylinders Celia would have found suspicious. ‘Want to come for supper next Saturday?’
As she wasn’t firing on all cylinders Celia relaxed and thought that yes, she did. Very much. And not just because she was thankful for the change of subject. The deadline for the deal was next Friday so Saturday would be her first day off in weeks. She had no plans other than to sleep, so supper at Lily’s after a twenty-four-hour nap sounded like a fine way to celebrate. There’d be good food, plenty of fabulous wine and possibly even a gorgeous single man or two for her to set her sights on.
‘That would be lovely,’ she said, with genuine gratitude. ‘Thank you.’
Lily beamed and refilled their glasses. ‘Great. Now let me tell you all about my wedding plans so far.’
* * *
What the hell he was doing standing on Kit and Lily’s doorstep and ringing the bell Marcus had no idea.
By now he ought to have picked Melissa up and taken her to the opening night of an exhibition one of his artist friends was putting on. He ought to be sipping champagne, discussing perspective and admiring his date. Yet he’d ditched both Mel and the exhibition in order to be here.
Why he’d changed the habit of a lifetime and wilfully cancelled one plan for another he didn’t want to consider too closely. He had the horrible suspicion that if he did he’d find it had quite a lot to do with Lily’s mention in passing that Celia was also on the guest list, and frankly that didn’t make any sense at all because Celia had made it perfectly clear that she didn’t want to have anything to do with him any more and he’d taken that on board. He was totally fine with it. Hadn’t thought about it for a second more, once he’d got back to London that Sunday morning.
It wasn’t as if he’d been sitting at home burning with disappointment that she’d rebuffed him again, moping around like a wet weekend and feeling sorry for himself. He’d had a great time in the past month. He’d hit the social scene with a fervour bordering on vengeance. He’d dated a string of intelligent, entertaining, beautiful women, although irritatingly enough none of them had made him want to go further than a friendly goodnight kiss, let alone scratch beneath the surface. He’d taken a week’s holiday just because he hadn’t had one in years and now he could. And in amongst the fun he’d slowly been making plans about what he wanted to do next work-wise.
All in all he’d barely had a moment to himself, and he’d congratulated himself on not having thought about Celia once.
Yet when Lily had rung him up a week or so ago inviting him to dinner and mentioning Celia was coming, for some unfathomable reason his pulse had started thumping in a way it hadn’t since that afternoon in the walled garden and he’d found himself mentally ditching his plans and saying yes, even though he didn’t know either Lily or Kit all that well.
So there was little point in pretending that Celia didn’t have anything to do with the reason he was here and even less point in continuing to tell himself that because he thought about her at night instead of during the day it didn’t count.
In all honesty it was unsettling just how much she did invade his thoughts during the hours of darkness. The minute he crashed into bed she was right there with him, messing with his sleep by filling his dreams and doing the kinds of things to him that had him frequently jerking awake, hot and hard and shuddering with desire.
Which meant he probably shouldn’t be here, he thought, a film of sweat breaking out all over his body, because what was he expecting? That she’d be as happy to see him as he suspected he would be to see her? What was he? A masochist?
Celia wouldn’t be pleased to see him any more now than she’d been to have him following her into Zoe’s parents’ house that sunny Saturday afternoon. No doubt she’d be making her displeasure known the instant he walked in and be reverting to acerbity at the earliest available opportunity.
Frankly he didn’t think he had the stomach for it any more, not now he knew how it could be between them.
But it was too late to back out now because even as his head churned with the desire to leave he heard the sounds of a catch being turned. The door swung open and there was Lily smiling broadly and waving him in, and he had no option but to grit his teeth and brace himself to get through the next couple of hours the best he could.
‘Marcus,’ she said warmly, ‘I’m so glad you could make it. Come in.’
‘Thanks.’ He stepped over the threshold and handed over the bottle and the box, and smiled as she let out a little whoop. ‘Champagne and truffles,’ she said, grinning even more widely. ‘A perfect combination. Thank you. Come and meet everyone.’
He followed her down the hall, listening for one voice, one laugh, every cell of his body on high alert. More tense than he’d been at any point over the past month, he walked into the sitting room, the smile on his face still firmly in place. He shook hands with Kit and accepted a gin and tonic. Then he nodded and chatted as he was introduced to their friends, all the while scouring the room for Celia.
Who wasn’t there.
Late? he wondered, or—
‘She couldn’t make it,’ murmured Lily, who’d clearly been watching him scan the guests.
‘Who couldn’t?’ he said, annoyed at both wanting to see her and at being so transparent.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Celia.’
‘Shame,’ he said coolly, and knocked back a slug of his drink.
‘Yes. A headache apparently.’
Perhaps brought on by the discovery that he’d also been invited? He didn’t know whether to be thrilled, cheated or devastated that she wasn’t going to be there. ‘So nothing serious, then.’
‘Only for my table plan,’ said Lily with a grin, before sobering. ‘Actually, she didn’t sound too good at all.’