Devoted: The Blackwell Lessons Part 17

'Sophia, I'm not going to pander to your jealousy.' Marc puts the car into reverse. 'You knew about my past when you married me. It's not something I'm proud of. But it won't go away either. Girls will come out of the woodwork. They always have and they probably always will. You have to learn to ignore them.'

I shake my head, feeling tears coming. 'I suppose I just thought ... when we were married ...'

Marc slides a hand over mine. 'That the past would be erased? A clean slate?'

'Something like that.'

'Life doesn't usually work like that.'

I let out a long sigh. 'So. What's this surprise then?'

'It's waiting back at the townhouse.'

As Marc edges the car out of the parking spot, we see Nadia striding towards us, waving.

Marc frowns. 'Did you forget something?'

'Not that I know of.'

'Then what does Nadia want?'

'I'm not sure.'

I wind down the window.

32.

'Hey!' Nadia shouts, peering into the car. 'Sophia. I meant tell you before drinks tonight, okay? At the Peac.o.c.k Lounge. To celebrate the first day of shooting.' She turns to Marc. 'You don't mind do you Marc? Losing your leading lady just for one night?'

'I'm not invited?'

'Cast and crew only I'm afraid.'

'I'd forgotten about your endless socials.'

'It's good for the cast and crew to get along,' says Nadia. 'If everyone has fun the movie always comes out better.'

'I had something planned for Sophia tonight.'

'I ... Marc, I think I should go,' I say, placing a hand over his. 'Can the surprise wait another day?'

'It can wait another day.'

'Okay!' Nadia claps her hands. 'This is good news. What would drinks be without our leading lady?'

I laugh. 'I think that leading lady t.i.tle caused a bit of trouble today. With Sigourney.'

Nadia waves a dismissive hand. 'Oh she's a prima donna. Models always are. I just told her you were the good leading lady and she was the bad one. That way she still gets to think she's the most important person in the movie.'

'I don't mind if she is the leading lady,' I say. 'Honestly. She's more famous than me. Maybe she has a point.'

'I decide who the leading lady is, not Sigourney,' says Nadia. 'And I've decided it's you. Okay. So listen drinks at eight. You know where the Peac.o.c.k Lounge is right?'

'No.'

'I know where it is,' says Marc shortly.

'Of course you do,' says Nadia. 'You know where every bar in London is. Right? It's settled then. You can drop Sophia off.'

A tiny smile plays on Marc's lips. 'Drop her off? I'm really not invited then?'

'No partners I'm afraid. We're trying to bond as a crew. Not have a party.'

'So it won't be a party?' says Marc, looking even more amused. 'That'll be a first for you.'

Nadia laughs. 'Well maybe a bit of a party. But we'll have your girl home before midnight, okay? There's another early start tomorrow.'

Marc frowns. 'Sophia, you shouldn't stay out too late. You need your rest.'

'I won't stay for long,' I say. 'Just an hour or so. Okay?'

Marc nods but he doesn't look happy.

'So you take her home and feed her,' says Nadia, patting the car's s.h.i.+ny paintwork. 'Then bring her back to us for eight.'

'If that's how it has to be, that's how it has to be.' Marc puts the car into gear and speeds towards the security gates.

'Marc!' I say, as we speed away from Nadia. 'You didn't even say bye. Or let me say goodbye.'

'You'll be seeing her in a few hours. How many goodbyes do you need?'

'You're not happy. Are you? That I'm going out for c.o.c.ktails.'

'Well for a start you won't be having c.o.c.ktails.'

'No I didn't mean ... of course I won't. You know that. Marc, why are you being like this?'

'I think it's a bad idea for you to go out tonight. I think you're tiring yourself out. You have another early start tomorrow.'

'It's just for a few hours. It's fine.' I let out an involuntary yawn, and Marc's expression turns thunderous.

'Sophia-'

'It's just for a few hours Marc. Is this about the surprise you have planned? Is that it? You're upset because I'm putting you off?'

'Hardly. It's you I'm thinking of. And your health.'

'I've lived with my body a long time. I think I know what I can manage.'

'Really?' Marc barks. 'Because experience has taught me that's something you don't know. The last time you tried to manage you ran yourself ragged and ended up in hospital. And this time you could be pregnant.'

He shouts that last word and I feel hurt sting my chest.

'You're saying it like it's an illness.'

'If you're pregnant it will weaken you.'

'Millions of women-'

'YOU ARE NOT MILLIONS OF WOMEN,' Marc shouts, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. 'You are the woman I love. The woman I would do anything for. The woman I would die for. And if anything happened to you ...'

My stomach softens. 'Nothing will happen to me.'

'It won't if you let me take care of you. But when you insist on making decisions for yourself-'

'Don't let's do this again,' I say. 'This same argument. Going round and round. I'm not a child. I have to make my own mistakes.'

'Not if you're carrying my baby,' Marc growls.

'Oh so it's your baby?' I say. 'I thought it was ours.'

'Mine. Ours. What's the difference?' Marc pulls the car to an abrupt stop and turns to me. 'Don't you understand Sophia? What it would do to me if you got hurt?'

'I understand,' I whisper. 'But I thought you understood I have to live my own life.'

'The fact you could be pregnant has ... changed things. I knew I loved you before. But it's nothing to how I feel now. How protective I feel. You don't know how hard this day has been for me.'

I feel myself smile. 'Thank you. For loving me so much. It's ... unbelievable sometimes.'

'It still surprises me,' says Marc, managing a smile. 'I wanted to protect you the first moment I met you. And now ... you could be carrying our child.' He shakes his head. 'You're my responsibility. Now more than ever. If anything happened to you it would be my fault. And I could never live with myself.'

'I'm not your responsibility.'

'Oh yes you are, Mrs Blackwell. Your happiness. Your pleasure. Your health. Our baby. All my responsibility. And I take my responsibilities very seriously.'

He leans in and kisses me.

It's a soft kiss at first, but then it grows harder and more sensual, one hand coming around my back to pull me to him.

I hear myself moan as the kiss intensifies and Marc's tongue softly pushes into my mouth.

Suddenly Marc pulls back and grabs the steering wheel. 'You, Mrs Blackwell, are still f.u.c.king irresistible. And as usual you are testing my self-control.'

He slams his foot on the accelerator and pulls onto the main road, dodging in and out of cars.

I grip the leather seat. 'Slow down!'

'You're safe. You should know that by now.'

'It's not that I don't trust your driving,' I say. 'I'm just a wimp when it comes to speed.'

'The faster I get you home the faster I can f.u.c.k you.'

'I thought you didn't want to tire me out?'

'What I have planned shouldn't tire you out at all,' says Marc. 'You won't have to lift a finger. In fact if you do, you'll be in big trouble. I am taking your health very, very seriously.'

33.

Back at the townhouse, supper is laid out in the kitchen. It's all kinds of deli stuff cold cuts of meat, cheeses, pickles, dips, fresh b.u.t.ter and two huge brown farmhouse loaves.

'Eat up,' says Marc. 'You need your strength.' He pours me a gla.s.s of iced water with lemon. 'And you should drink too. A day on set can dehydrate you.'

'Thank you,' I say. 'What would I do without you?'

'You will never have to find out.'

As I'm finis.h.i.+ng my meal, Marc props his elbows on the breakfast bar and watches me.

'You're very beautiful when you eat.'

I pick up a napkin and dab my lips self-consciously. 'Thank you.'

'I thought you'd want a light supper. After a day of greasy catered food.'

'How did you know what we had for lunch?'

Marc smiles. 'I may not have shot a movie for a while, but I remember the catering. Especially bad in London. Not two salad leaves to rub together.'

I laugh. 'You really do remember.'

'And I'm willing to bet Sigourney was less than happy with the food. Would I be right?'