"Shite. The Ministry has made one hell of a mess for you, Marcus, and Fawcett. So what do you think you'll do? You know Marcus. He's going to want her. Even if he had his own little toy he'd still want a taste of Fawcett." The stupid Irish whore. Tracey picked up her glass and took a large drink, finishing it off. It was best to ignore the whole caring about somebody outside of sex question. Still, she was frowning and fidgeting with the kerchief. Not that she wasn't listening.