He plunges himself inside me and I let out a long, loud moan.

The bed ripples under my hands and knees and I sway with Marc, up down, up down.

'Oh G.o.d.'

Marc's hand moves around to the most sensitive, warm part of my body, right between my legs, and I let out a gasp as his finger begins to circle.

'Marc. Oh G.o.d Marc!'

'Don't move.'

Marc settles into a steady rhythm, slow and deep at first. And then faster and faster until the bed is swishing and swaying and I'm moaning louder and louder.

As he moves deeper inside me I feel an o.r.g.a.s.m building up.

'Marc I-'

Marc pulls my hair so tight that my head moves with him. 'I know. You're about to come.'

He drops my head so it falls limply towards the bed, grabs my hips with both hands and plunges so deeply inside me that I fall forwards onto the pillow.

'Marc. Oh Marc.'

I come so deeply that for a few seconds I see nothing but red spots. I feel Marc still inside me and hear his moans as he comes too.

I lay flat on the soft water bed with Marc's weight on top of me, his hips pressing against my b.u.t.tocks.

Then I feel Marc's strong fingers move my hair aside and his lips bury themselves against my neck.

'You, Mrs Blackwell, are the best thing I've ever had in my life. Do you know that?'

I smile into the pillow. 'Had in what way?'

'In every way. But specifically I was talking about my ownership of you in marriage.'

'Ownership?' I know he's teasing, but I can't help rising to it.

'Yes. Ownership. As I told you before, you're mine now. All mine. And I have the legal doc.u.ments to prove it.'

He finds my hand and pulls it to his lips, kissing my wedding finger. 'And then there's this, of course. The symbol of my ownership on your lovely finger.'

'Then I must own you too,' I say, reaching down and finding Marc's wedding hand. I turn his ring round and round, then slide my fingers between his.

'Yes you do.'

He squeezes my hand.

My eyes wander to the contraption in the corner.

'So we never got around to using my surprise.'

'If you're going out tonight, we can save that for another day. I promised I wouldn't tire you out.'

'Actually I do feel pretty tired.'

Marc strokes my hair. 'Then sleep.'

'But I've got this ... c.o.c.ktail thing. I can't let Nadia down.'

'Yes, you can.'

'No I can't Marc.' I slide out from under him and he rolls back onto the swaying water bed then props himself on one elbow.

'You're going to wear yourself out,' he says, his voice just touching anger. 'You're already tired. Nadia won't mind. I promise you.'

'You know me,' I say softly. 'You know I'd never let anyone down. Not when I've made a promise.'

'That's what I was afraid you'd say.' Marc pulls himself up and sits beside me. He slides his arm around my shoulder. 'So my ploy didn't work.'

'What ploy?'

'My ploy to entice you to stay here with me. And not go out tonight.'

'You don't really mean that, do you? You weren't really ... I mean, you didn't take me up here to try and convince me to stay in?'

'Most certainly.'

'Nice try.'

'It wasn't bad, was it?' Marc's arm drops and he touches his forehead to mine. 'But seriously. If you're going out, take it easy okay? Home early. No c.o.c.ktails-'

'Marc, of course not!'

'And home by nine.' He strokes hair from my face.

'Nine?' I check my watch. 'That'll barely give me half an hour. Come on Marc, I'm supposed to be making friends with the cast and crew. Not checking in for a few minutes.'

'Fine. Ten o'clock.'

'You're saying that like you have control of my timetable.'

Marc pulls me to him. 'I am well aware, Mrs Blackwell, that I have no control of your schedule. In fact, I have absolutely no control of you whatsoever when it comes to your career. I shall have to console myself with the fact that in the bedroom you still let me take charge once in a while.'

'Once in a while?' I laugh.

Marc gives me a playful slap on the behind. 'Get dressed Mrs Blackwell. Your public awaits.'

'I'm really not sure I want to see Sigourney again,' I admit. 'But it'll be nice to see the others.'

'Don't worry about her. Her bark's worse than her bite. She's just a messed up little girl in a grown-ups body.'

I feel that pang again. In my stomach. Part jealousy, part sadness. I hate that Marc has a past. But he's right I'll be working with Sigourney a long time. I need to learn not to tense up whenever Marc talks about her.

'Hey.' Marc takes my chin in his fingers. 'Only you, okay? It's only ever been you. Remember that?'

'I'll try.'

35.

Marc drives me to the Peac.o.c.k Lounge, but doesn't accompany me inside.

'I'll pick you up at ten,' he says, fixing me with those intense eyes of his. 'Don't be late out Mrs Blackwell. Or I might have to put you over my knee.'

I throw him pretend innocent eyes. 'You wouldn't do that, would you?'

His lips curl into a smile. 'I would.'

'Maybe I'll be late then ...'

I kiss him lightly on the lips, but Marc pulls me to him and kisses me hard.

For a moment I'm lost in him, barely able to pull away. But I manage it.

'I have to do this. Okay? I know you'd rather I stay home.'

'How did you guess?'

'Oh just female intuition.' I smile. 'Look, I get it. I know you care about me. I know you want me to rest. And I know I haven't made the best choices in the past. I've worn myself out. I've been stupid. I'm lucky to have your trust. But believe me Marc,' my hands drop to my stomach, 'our baby could be inside here. I'm as anxious as you to play it safe.'

Marc takes my hand and puts his palm to mine, watching my hand as he dances it up and down. 'I know. It's just hard. When you love someone so much.'

The Peac.o.c.k Lounge is by the River Thames, with a panoramic window overlooking the water.

Bright blue lights illuminate the bar and red velvet chairs are dotted around.

I see Leo, Baz, Ruby and Sigourney sitting with Nadia and the crew by the window. The girls sip c.o.c.ktails, while Leo and Baz drink beer.

As I walk towards the table, I feel the bar crowd watching me.

I hear murmurs.

'Is it her? I think that's ... Sophia Rose. Is that the girl from Beauty and the Beast?'

I smile shyly, muttering 'excuse me' as I weave through.

Before I reach the table, Leo leaps to his feet.

'Sophia!' He pushes through the crowd and grabs my arm. 'You made it. There was a f.u.c.k up. This should have been a private party, but the bar mixed the dates. It was packed when we got here. So we're doing the goldfish bowl thing sitting with everyone staring at us. Not much we can do about it now.'

He steers me through the gawping crowd and sits me at the table.

'Hey.' Leo taps a cameraman on the shoulder. 'Mind if we switch? Sophia and I have some catching up to do.'

As I sit, I feel Sigourney glaring at me across the table. But when I turn to her, she puts on a big fake smile.

'Sophia!' she calls, taking a sip of some clear, bubbly drink with artistically cut lemon slices in it. 'How are you? How's Marc?'

'We're good,' I say, as calmly as I can manage.

'Honey bunch!' Nadia moves her chair next to mine. 'I am SO sorry about this mess. None of these people should be here.' She waves her hand at the crowd. 'But the bar made a mistake. They double booked. I didn't want someone to get fired so I just said ... okay! We'll work with this. All right?'

'It's fine,' I say, managing a smile.

'It b.l.o.o.d.y isn't,' Sigourney shouts, taking another sip of her drink. 'I f.u.c.king hate members of the public. Always wanting a piece of you.'

'Do you want a drink?' Nadia asks me, ignoring Sigourney's comment. 'Oh wait! No c.o.c.ktail for you, right?' She winks.

I glance around the table, hoping no one else heard and is putting two and two together.

Sigourney watches me carefully, an eyebrow raised in thought.

36.

'Just an orange juice for me,' I say quietly.

'Oh we can do better than that!' says Nadia. 'This is the best c.o.c.ktail lounge in London. They do all sorts of virgin drinks. Here.'

She grabs a red-velvet bound menu and flicks through. 'Ah ha! Perfect for you. Vanilla Chocolate Malt without the vodka. You like hot chocolate right?'

I smile, a little embarra.s.sed. 'I'm a child at heart. How did you know I liked hot chocolate?'

'Marc called the movie caterer this morning. To check if there was any hot chocolate for you. And to personally order some for tomorrow.'