A/N's: I want to say thanks to Sharni for pointing out my mistake with Mark's eye color. Their green, not dark as I described them. I'm so sorry for that, I know I hate when an author describes my favorite wrestlers wrong, so I hope ya'll can forgive me. Oh, and I'm not sure if Barbados really is five hours behind the U.S. or not, but for the sake of this chapter, it is now. ;)

Chapter Nine

As a lover he was ferocious and tender by turns. Sometimes she could almost believe that their passionate desire for each other was a strong enough basis for marriage. Almost-but not quite. She knew that she did not have his love. And she wanted it. For, after three weeks, she could no longer blind herself to the fact that she had fallen deeply in love with him.

Even on their honeymoon, Mark had never entirely stopped being a businessman. Barbados was five hours behind the U.S., and he would often spend the early hours of the early hours of the evening in nonstop telephone calls to colleagues, rivals or Willis Rackham, his personal assistant. Sharni would spend these hours dozing until it was time to get up and prepare dinner, followed by a night of Mark's skillful loving. Once Mark had said to her, "I'd expected you to complain about the time I have to spend working, but you seem to have adjusted to being a businessman's wife remarkably well."

"Oh, I'm very grateful to Mr. Rackham and the others," she murmured from the bed where she had been napping. "But for them, I doubt I'd get any sleep at all."

He laughed and dropped his head to kiss her tousled hair.

******

In the car on their way to the home of Sally and Paul Kendal in the heart of New York City, Mark said abruptly, "There's something I should tell you. You'll meet a woman called Denise Blackman at the dinner tonight. She's just come back from London, where she's been having a very costly holiday-at my expense." He spoke without looking at her, keeping his eyes on the traffic. "It was partly a goodbye present," Mark went on. "I knew that if she was in London, Blair Hawkins would follow her, at least for awhile. I felt safer with him out of New York. For years we've been trying to stab each other in the back, because New York isn't big enough for both of us."

Misinterpreting her silence, he went on impatiently, "I've broken my old ties, and the break are final. If anyone tries to tell you otherwise, don't believe them."

The dismay that possessed her was not for Mark's casual admission that Denise had been his mistress. It was for the cold-blooded way he had behaved towards her. Suppose the day ever came when he felt Sharni's own usefulness was at an end!

And there was another thing that dismayed her almost as much. "Mark, if you're so nervous about leaving Blair Hawkins a fee hand in New York, how can you get away to Mint? I thought we were going to spend at least half our lives there."

"We are. That's why the fight's coming to a head now. I have to render him ineffective."

Mark and Sharni arrived late, and dinner was served almost at once. Sharni found herself sitting next to her host. She like Paul Kendal at once.

"Who's the man staring at me as if he can't make up his mind whether I'm fish or fowl?" she asked over dessert.

"That's Blair Hawkins."

"So that's him," she said slowly, in a tone that made Paul look at her sharply.

"Mark has told you about him then?" he said.

"Only that they're trying to cut each other's throats."

"That's one way of putting it," said Paul, speaking quietly under the din of chattering guests. "But Mark has ethics. Hawkins has none. He goes straight for the jugular. Watch out for him, Sharni. You may find yourself having to care for Mark through a bad patch."

A cold hand clutched at her. "But why?" she said.

Paul gave a grimace.

"A few months ago I thought Mark was poised Hawkins off the face of the Earth, but then-" He stopped, seemingly embarrassed. "Have a little more wine," he said.

"What happened a few months ago?" she demanded.

"You of all people to ask that?"

"You mean it was Mint?"

"Of course. The island cost him over a million, and it's likely to cost him more by the time he's finished making changes. That's blown quite a hold in his reserves."

A chill of fear had crept over her, though whether she feared for her husband or her beloved home, she could not say.

She and Paul made small talk until dinner was over, and later she found herself facing Blair Hawkins himself.

Hawkins said in a soft, caressing voice, "Everyone wants to meet the girl who achieved the miracle. And when they've met you, my dear Mrs. Calloway, they go away and lay their bets."

"You mean they're betting on how long the marriage will last?" she said, challenging him.

"Precisely. How astute you are."

"Well, let me give you the best investment advice you'll ever get. Put your money on 'till death do us part,' Mr. Hawkins. It's not a risk, it's a certainty."

He stared at Sharni. An alert look came into his eyes as she excused herself.

Sharni slipped upstairs to where the coats were laid and she could examine her appearance. Denise Blackman followed her in.

"Don't fool yourself that you can hold his interest. When the moment comes, don't antagonize Mark by trying to hang on. Just get the best pay-off you can," she said.

Sharni looked her straight in the eyes, her smile as cold and steely as Denise's. "Well, pay-offs come in many different forms, don't they?" she said. "Including, so I've heard, trips to London."

Sharni seized up her coat and whisked herself out of the door before the other woman could recover from her shock. She was amazed at herself.