Daphne Clair - The Marriage Debt

Shannon stared, the significance of the words sinking in. “You don’t mean…” Surely he wasn’t suggesting what she thought he was.

Devon spoke in that same level, apparently reasonable tone. “I mean exactly what I said. Do you have a problem?”

It was a moment before her voice would work, and when it did it was higher and more shrill than she intended it to be. “Damn right I have a problem! You can’t ask me to agree to that!”

“I can ask you to do anything I please.” He thrust both hands into his pockets and rocked back slightly on his heels, his eyes focused on her face. “I can’t compel you to agree, of course. The choice is entirely yours.”

There are times in a man’s life…

when only seduction will settle old scores!

Pick up our exciting series of revenge-based

romances—they’re recommended and red-hot!

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CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

‘DARLING Shannon! Congratulations. A great little film.’

Shannon Cleary turned from the group she was with to accept an enthusiastic kiss on her cheek. ‘Thanks, Lloyd. I hope you’ll say so in your review.’ Half the country read his column.

‘But of course, darling! I always said you’re one of New Zealand’s most promising young directors.’ His eyes shifted to somewhere beyond her. ‘Excuse me, there’s someone I must see…’ He patted her shoulder and disappeared into the crowd milling about the foyer of Auckland’s trendiest cinema.

Shannon’s escort, a hand at her waist, murmured in her ear, ‘Pretentious little hypodermic.’

Shannon laughed, but the laughter snagged in her throat when a few yards away a dark masculine head turned at the sound, and gleaming obsidian eyes under thick black lashes and resolute brows caught her gaze and held it.

Her own eyes widened and her heart made a weird convolution. Everything seemed suddenly sharper, painfully clear and bright, as if she were looking through a lens being brought into perfect focus.

She was conscious of the babble of voices, of Craig Sloane’s protective arm at her back, of the gilt-framed mirrors on the foyer walls reflecting the colours of women’s dresses, a flash of jewellery, and then a glimpse of her own face stark with shock—lips slightly parted, the green irises of her eyes almost obliterated by the darkened centres as she wrenched her gaze from the man who was looking at her with undiluted attention.

The reflection was blocked out as he moved toward her, and she concentrated on the immaculate white shirt he wore under a perfectly tailored jacket, until he stood in front of her and the well-remembered wine-dark voice said, ‘Shannon…’

Somehow the other people around melted away, all except Craig. His hand tightened on her waist, and she was thankful because her knees were threatening to buckle.

Forcing her expression to a wooden indifference, Shannon dredged up her voice from where it had retreated deep into her lungs. ‘Devin. What are you doing here?’

His brows lifted a fraction. ‘I came to see your film. Your first director’s credit on a full-length feature, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’ Shannon’s voice was stiff. ‘I hope you enjoyed it.’

Straight black lashes flickered, his glance sharpening as though looking for a hidden meaning. Then he seemed to relax, one hand in a pocket of his trousers. The sculpted mouth moved in the barest semblance of a smile. ‘Very much.’ He paused, moved his appraising gaze to Craig and said coolly, ‘You were good too.’ Craig had filled the lead male role as a young city man lost in the bush and discovering his own inner strengths and weaknesses.

‘He did a superb job.’ Glad of the excuse to look away from Devin, Shannon turned a warm smile on Craig. ‘I’m lucky to have worked with him.’

Craig’s answering white-toothed smile and sparkling blue eyes showed his elated mood. ‘Thanks, hon.’ He bent and kissed her mouth, a friendly peck. ‘That’s mutual.’

Devin’s eyes had gone hard, with the glitter of polished steel. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me?’ he asked Shannon.

‘Craig,’ she said fatalistically, ‘this is Devin.’

‘Hi.’ Craig held out his hand, and after a moment Devin took it in a firm grip.

‘Devin Keynes,’ he said.

‘Keynes?’ Craig looked tentatively impressed.

‘Shannon’s husband.’ Devin threw a lightning glance at her.

‘Ex-husband,’ she immediately corrected.

Craig looked from her to Devin, obviously startled.

Devin ignored him. ‘I don’t recall getting a divorce.’

More sharply than she’d meant to, Shannon reminded him, ‘We’re not married anymore.’

‘The law says we are.’

‘That’s easily fixed.’ She wished she were tall enough not to have to look up to meet his eyes.

‘Do you have plans to remarry?’ he asked her, a deadly mockery lacing his voice.

Shannon hedged. ‘That’s not the point—’

A young woman with spiked flame-red hair and an assortment of rings decorating her ears, nose and eyebrows, bounced up, hugged Shannon and offered more congratulations. ‘I heard you’re doing a feature film of your own next?’

‘I hope to.’ She planned to produce and direct it herself, rather than waiting to be hired again by a bigger production company, but the financial backing she was negotiating had not so far materialised.

‘Good for you. I could be available in about six weeks if you need a production manager.’

‘Thanks,’ Shannon said, ‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

Another woman appeared out of the crowd. Sleek, blond, her curvy figure encased in a sheath of shimmering silver. ‘Dev?’ She tucked a hand into Devin’s arm. ‘We’re on our way. The Borlands have invited us to supper.’ She gave Craig a dazzling smile and held out her free hand. ‘I’m Rachelle Todd. I loved you in the film.’

Craig grinned at her and modestly ducked his streaked-blond head.

Rachelle looked inquiringly at Shannon, and Devin introduced them, this time confining himself to names only. Rachelle made a vaguely complimentary comment on her directing skill before urging Devin away to join their party.

‘Ex-husband?’ Craig queried.

‘I don’t talk about it,’ Shannon said shortly. ‘And I don’t suppose he does either.’ It was no real secret, but she’d continued to work under her own name during their marriage, and deliberately not trumpeted her connection with a much more prominent one. The fact that she’d briefly been a member of one of New Zealand’s richest families wasn’t widely known.

‘Touchy subject?’ Craig’s hand squeezed her waist. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t spread it about.’

More people approached them, and Shannon tried to forget the unexpected encounter.

The film was received with mild to almost extravagant praise for the most part, although some reviewers ignored it, and one was scathing about the acting, the direction and the script, throwing Shannon into deep depression for several hours. Then she dug out the positive reviews that had preceded it and cheered herself up by re-reading them.