The Millionaire's Chosen Bride. Susanne James
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‘You’re certainly a convincing actress, Mel—acting mixed in with a little cunning,’ Adam said.
Melody went to go past him, but he pulled her to him, pinning her arms to her sides, and then his mouth came down on to hers in an angry movement. She felt his tongue probing her lips and she gasped—in surprise and shock at the suddenness of what he was doing. Then…in a moment of unbelievable surrender…she collapsed into his arms. This evening’s revelations had been too much for her to cope with—now she needed support. She needed Adam!
Almost at once, the ferocity of his kiss changed into breathtaking passion, and she clung to him. For a few timeless moments they stayed locked together, each lost in their own thoughts, each wallowing in their sudden intimacy…until Melody pulled right away, looking up at him, her eyes glowing with desire—and disillusionment! Because hadn’t he just called her deceitful—and cunning? Horrible, hurtful words!
Susanne James has enjoyed creative writing since childhood, completing her first—sadly unpublished—novel by the age of twelve. She has three grown-up children who were, and are, her pride and joy, and who all live happily in Oxfordshire with their families. She was always happy to put the needs of her family before her ambition to write seriously, although along the way some published articles for magazines and newspapers helped to keep the dream alive!
Susanne’s big regret is that her beloved husband is no longer here to share the pleasure of her recent success. She now shares her life with Toffee, her young Cavalier King Charles spaniel, who decides when it’s time to get up (early) and when a walk in the park is overdue!
Recent titles by the same author:
THE BRITISH BILLIONAIRE AFFAIR
JED HUNTER’S RELUCTANT BRIDE
THE MILLIONAIRE’S CHOSEN BRIDE
BY
SUSANNE JAMES
www.millsandboon.co.uk
THE MILLIONAIRE’S CHOSEN BRIDE
For Toffee,
and my other friends
CHAPTER ONE
‘LADIES and gentlemen—bidding will commence at half past ten exactly. That’s in fifteen minutes from now.’ The auctioneer’s strong, commanding voice cut through the murmuring in the small sitting room and people began to take what seats were available, automatically consulting their own watches and glancing around at the competition.
Melody found a place towards the back, aware that her heart was pounding as she fingered the numbered card in her hand nervously. It stated the number thirty in large black figures and, looking down at it, she still couldn’t really believe that she was here, doing this. To call it one of life’s amazing coincidences seemed too trite a description. But she was here, she was not dreaming, and she was about to take part in the bidding for the rather quaint but very lovely Gatehouse Cottage. And it had certainly not been part of her present holiday plans.
Casting a surreptitious glance around her, she saw that the other interested parties were presumably the kind of eclectic bunch you’d see anywhere, she thought. Ordinary enough people, but today with a single purpose. To buy this property.
Presently there was a hush as the auctioneer took his place at the table, and straight away the atmosphere became charged with expectancy.
‘We’ll start the bidding at the guide price,’ the man said, looking at everyone over his spectacles, ‘and I’m going up in tens. Who’ll start the bidding for me, please?’
There was an immediate response as someone raised a card, and Melody’s breath was almost taken away at the speed with which everything proceeded. Well over the asking price was reached almost at once, before bidding began to slow as bidders shook their heads. Soon it was left to only four hopeful buyers to provide the entertainment. It got slower still as people dropped out one by one, and Melody’s mouth was as dry as dust as she continued to raise her card.
Now that she’d started, she just could not stop. For once she was putting her business acumen and expertise into something for her—and the experience was a heady one!
Soon there were only two bidders remaining—herself, and a man with a deliciously deep voice at the back of the room, who was just out of her sight. She would actually have had to swivel in her seat to see who was keeping pace with her, so she continued to stare straight ahead.
Swallowing hard, Melody determined to keep on, up to the limit she’d set herself—but equally determined seemed her opponent! But suddenly she was the last bidder, and the all-important gavel was struck sharply once, twice…three times. Gatehouse Cottage was hers!
Melody got up from her place and went towards the desk, where the auctioneer beamed at her. ‘Congratulations,’ he said kindly.
‘Thank you,’ she said lightly, by this time feeling in an almost dream-like state. She could barely catch her breath. What had she just done, for heaven’s sake?
There was paperwork and official business to see to, and the vital signature to append, but finally Melody left the building and went out into the strong summer sunlight, feeling as important as a middle-eastern tycoon! But she was still shaking inside… She was not usually of an impetuous nature—snap decisions weren’t her style—yet she had just entered into an agreement that would now make her the owner of two properties—her apartment in London as well as this idyllic cottage in one of the most beautiful rural spots in England.
Presently, going down the path to reach her car, she almost bumped into someone standing there. A man was leaning nonchalantly against the gatepost, and Melody immediately looked up to apologise—almost swallowing her tongue as she met the searching gaze of the most blue-black eyes she’d ever seen! For a second neither of them spoke, but she was the first to find her voice.
‘Oh, I beg your pardon,’ she murmured, rather formally, stepping out of his way—but he didn’t attempt to move, just stood looking down at her, a faint smile on his lips.
‘There’snothingto apologise for,’ he said casually, ina darkly rich voice that had the effect of making Melody’s spine tingle unexpectedly. ‘Except, perhaps,’ he added, ‘for pipping me at the post just now.’ He paused. ‘Congratulations, by the way,’ he drawled.
So! This was the other determined bidder who’d helped to force the price of the cottage ever higher! He was tall—very tall—and dressed in dark trousers and a shirt which was open at the neck to reveal a tantalising glimpse of black curling hair. Melody looked away quickly.
‘Oh—well…’ she said, shrugging slightly. ‘There must always be winners and losers, mustn’t there? But I do hope I haven’t ruined your long-term plans too much…’
He raised one dark eyebrow, still staring at her. ‘I’ll live to fight another day,’ he said. He paused. ‘But I think the least you can do is to let me buy you some lunch.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘It’s almost midday, and I know a really great pub. I’m hungry after all that tension.’
Melody couldn’t help feeling surprised at his suggestion. This man was obviously a fast worker who didn’t believe in hanging around—the sort of opportunist that made her feel slightly wary. Then she bit her lip. She’d been too excited—or too nervous—to eat any breakfast at her hotel that morning, and now that she’d secured the deal her appetite was coming back to life!
‘All right,’ she said, after a moment. ‘Why not? ‘I’m Mel, by the way.’
‘And I’m Adam.’ He extended a tanned hand in formal greeting, and grinned in a warm, all-embracing way that had the effect of breaking down any remaining reserve Melody might have felt at accepting