Ally Blake

Taming the Rebel Tycoon


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she held out and he bent his head.

      Feeling the heat and dampness of his mouth through the satin and lace, she began to shudder. ‘Don’t,’ she whispered in desperation. ‘Don’t…’

      ‘Why not? You liked it last night.’

      ‘That was before…’

      ‘Before what?’

      She threw in the towel. ‘Before I knew you were planning to get married.’

      ‘Ah,’ he said softly, ‘so that’s it.’ Then, quick as a rattlesnake striking, ‘How do you know I’m planning to get married?’

      ‘Hannah mentioned it.’

      He relaxed a little. ‘When did you see Hannah?’

      ‘I met her as I was coming downstairs. She was on her way to the chapel.’

      ‘I see. So that’s what all the fuss is about.’

      ‘If you’re going to try and tell me it isn’t true—’

      ‘I’ve no intention of telling you any such thing.’

      ‘Oh…’ Perhaps even now she had been treasuring some faint hope that Hannah had got it wrong.

      Irony in his voice, he asked, ‘As you know I’m getting married, perhaps you also know who my bride-to-be is?’

      ‘Yes, I do. It’s Helen O’Connell.’

      He raised a dark brow. ‘What makes you presume that? It’s not just because she came here, surely?’

      ‘It’s what I understood from Hannah.’

      Frowning, he suggested, ‘Perhaps you’d better tell me word for word exactly what Hannah said.’

      As near as she could remember, Tina repeated what the housekeeper had told her, adding with unconscious bitterness, ‘I gather she’s delighted.’

      ‘But you’re not?’

      ‘As far as I’m concerned, Miss O’Connell is more than welcome to you.’

      ‘Jealous?’

      ‘No, I’m not.’

      ‘Tell me,’ he said, his face sardonic, ‘if you’re not jealous, why are you so angry about it?’

      Made furious by his cavalier attitude, she cried, ‘Because you’re a brute and a beast and an unfeeling devil! How could you bring me here like this? What would your fiancée think if she found out?’

      ‘Do I take it you’re planning to tell her?’ he asked mockingly.

      ‘No, I’m not. The only thing I’m planning is to go and never get within a mile of you again.’

      He shook his head regretfully. ‘In that case I’m afraid our schedules don’t match. You see I have no intention of letting you go and every intention of keeping you close by my side.’

      Bending his head, he kissed her.

      The casual arrogance of that kiss was the last straw and she began to struggle furiously, writhing and kicking, fighting to free her hands.

      She was young and fit and, despite her slender build, strong.

      But he was so much stronger.

      Holding her down with the weight of his body, he ordered, ‘Lie still or you’ll hurt yourself.’

      When, from sheer exhaustion, she was forced to obey, he said quietly, ‘That’s better.’

      ‘Oh, please, Richard,’ she begged raggedly, ‘let me get up.’

      Perhaps he realised how close to tears she was, because without further ado he released her wrists and his weight lifted from her.

      Having helped her up, he rebuttoned her blouse before pushing her gently into the nearest chair. Then, having fastened his own shirt and tucked it into the waistband of his trousers, he stood looking down at her.

      All trace of mockery gone now, he said, ‘I want you to listen to me. You’re right in thinking that I’m hoping to be married…’

      Fool that she was, she had still half hoped that he might deny it.

      ‘However, you’re quite wrong in believing that the lady in question is Helen O’Connell…’

      ‘Oh…’ Tina said in a small voice.

      ‘At one time Hannah may have had hopes in that direction but, when she mentioned the Reverend Peter getting his wish, you were mistaken in thinking she was referring to Helen.’

      Feeling foolish, Tina stared blindly down at her hands clasped together in her lap.

      When she said nothing, he went on evenly, ‘Because Hannah’s been part of the family for so long, I told her my plans…Though I must admit I hadn’t expected her to say anything until I’d had a chance to discuss those plans with the woman I’m hoping to marry.’

      When Tina continued to sit in silence, head bent, the mockery back in his voice, he suggested, ‘Now aren’t you going to ask me who that woman is?’

      She shook her head. It didn’t really matter who it was. The mere fact that he had found a woman he wanted to marry had turned her own short-lived happiness into dust and ashes.

      ‘Does that mean you’re not interested, or you feel reluctant to ask?’

      Apart from saying that his intentions were in no way casual, he’d made no commitment, had promised her nothing, so what right had she to ask?

      ‘Well?’ he pressed.

      ‘I feel I’ve no right to ask,’ she admitted dully.

      A hand beneath her chin, he lifted her face and said firmly, ‘After the way I’ve treated you, you’ve every right to ask.’

      Her breath taken away, she gazed up at him mutely as he went on, ‘I got you to come here by offering you a job. A job you turned down on the grounds that, because we’d been to bed together, you would find it awkward to work for me.

      ‘That shows a rare sensitivity in this day and age, when a lot of women wouldn’t have given it a second thought or would have regarded a sexual interest as a plus.

      ‘Well, now I’m offering you a different kind of job, a job where a sexual interest is not only a plus but absolutely vital…’

      When, her blue-violet eyes wide, she continued to stare up at him, he said, ‘I want you to be my wife.’

      ‘What?’ she whispered, unable to believe her ears.

      ‘I want you to be my wife,’ he repeated. ‘Or, as Marlowe put it, “Come live with me and be my love…”

      ‘It’s sudden, I admit,’ he added quizzically, ‘but there’s no need to look quite so taken aback. After all, I did make it plain that my interest was far from casual…’

      ‘Yes, I know, but I…I never thought…I never dreamt…’ Wanting to believe it, but afraid to, needing desperately to be reassured that this wasn’t some kind of cruel joke, she asked huskily, ‘Do you really want to marry me?’

      ‘Yes,’ he answered, a touch of amusement in his voice, ‘I really do.’

      When, still struggling to take it in, she said nothing, he offered teasingly, ‘Would you like me to say it again?’

      ‘I—I’m sorry, but I just find it hard to believe,’ she admitted.

      ‘But my proposal isn’t unwelcome, I hope?’ A finger tracing the curve of her cheek, he asked with apparent irrelevance, ‘When we saw the evening star and both made a wish, what did you wish for?’

      Seeing her colour rise, he smiled, as if that was answer enough, and told her