Tycoon's Choice: Kept by the Tycoon / Taken by the Tycoon / The Tycoon's Proposal. Kathryn Ross
Читать онлайн книгу.
charcoal-grey trousers and a fine black sweater that pulled taut across his wide shoulders, he looked both disturbing and dangerous.
He was the first to break the silence. ‘You’re even lovelier than I remember.’ His tone was as cool and biting as his gaze, so that the remark sounded more like condemnation than a compliment.
‘Why are you here?’ Her voice shook so badly that the words were barely intelligible.
He smiled thinly. ‘This is my house.’
She made a movement of denial. ‘Mrs Rampling said her son owned Hethersage Hall.’
‘I’m Harriet’s son. Or, rather, her godson.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Madeleine said jerkily. ‘I thought your godparents were called Charn…’
‘Yes, they were. However, when Harriet had been a widow for almost two years, she met and married George Rampling, a middle-aged widower with three grown-up children and a couple of grandchildren…’
But Madeleine was no longer listening. Her thoughts skittering about like mad things, she realised that, as Rafe and Fiona must be married by now, this was Fiona’s house.
Oh, dear God. She might walk in at any minute! Panicstricken at the thought, Madeleine jumped to her feet. She must get away.
She had only taken a couple of steps when Rafe’s fingers closed around her wrist like a steel manacle.
‘Don’t rush off.’
‘Please let me go…’ For a moment or two she tried to pull free.
When, finding it was useless, she stopped he loosened his grip a little and, leading her back to the chair, pressed her into it.
‘I want to leave,’ she whispered.
He shook his head. ‘Harriet was so pleased you were coming, so you really must stay. Otherwise I’ll get the blame for driving you away.’
‘What about your wife?’ Madeleine blurted out.
He raised dark brows.
‘She won’t want me here.’
‘What makes you think that?’ he asked interestedly.
For a moment she almost admitted the truth, then better sense prevailed and she began carefully, ‘As Mrs Rampling isn’t here and your wife is—’
Once again he shook his head. ‘She isn’t.’
For a moment all Madeleine could feel was relief that Fiona wouldn’t walk in and find her there.
‘But I’m neglecting my duties as a host,’ Rafe went on smoothly. ‘What can I get you to drink?’
‘I don’t want anything to drink, thank you.’ Then, more firmly, ‘I’ve no intention of staying. I’m going back to London. Now.’
‘I’m afraid I can’t ask Jack to turn out again on a night like this.’
‘I’ll phone for a taxi.’
‘And do you think you’ll get one?’
‘Surely the conditions can’t be that bad?’ she protested hoarsely.
‘When I came home some time ago it was all I could do to get up the drive, and it’s been blowing a blizzard ever since.’
She lifted her chin. ‘If necessary I’ll walk down to the main road and wait for it there.’
‘Do you know how long the drive is?’
‘No,’ she admitted.
He smiled mirthlessly. ‘I thought not. It’s the best part of a mile, and because it’s in a dip the snow is collecting there. And even if you could struggle to the end of the drive, in weather like this I doubt if they’ve managed to keep even the main road open. In any event, you haven’t a hope in hell of getting a taxi, so you may as well sit down and relax.’
‘I’d prefer to go back up to the flat.’ She got to her feet and started for the door on trembling legs.
Rafe easily reached it first and stood with his back to the panels, barring her way. ‘And I’d much prefer you to stay here.’
She wanted desperately to push past him, but he looked so tall and dark and menacing that she hadn’t the nerve to try.
When she hesitated, he added silkily, ‘I’ve been looking forward to having a talk with you.’
‘Then you already knew it was me your godmother had engaged?’
‘Oh, yes. When Harriet mentioned your name I was able to tell her I knew you, that you’d been Katie’s physiotherapist. She could hardly believe her luck.
‘I would have been at the airport to meet you, but I didn’t want you to change your mind about coming to Hethersage.’
Firmly, she said, ‘Well, I’ve no intention of staying. If I can’t go tonight, I’ll leave first thing in the morning.’
He smiled a little. ‘We’ll see, shall we? In the meanwhile, suppose we sit down and talk?’
‘We’ve nothing to talk about.’
‘That’s just where you’re wrong.’ Cupping her elbow, he led her back to the chair and waited for her to sit before moving to the drinks trolley.
Just briefly, Madeleine debated making a run for it, but common sense told her she would be wasting her time. He would catch her before she even reached the flat, and if she did manage to get there first she wouldn’t be able to lock him out.
Turning to look at her, he queried, ‘So what’s it to be?’
‘I’ve already told you I don’t want a drink.’
Ignoring her churlishness, he filled a glass with a pale Amontillado and offered it to her, his green eyes daring her to refuse.
Weakly, she took it.
Pouring himself a whisky, he sat down opposite and regarded her. He looked eminently satisfied, she decided resentfully, Wellaware that he was the master of the situation. Wellaware that she knew it.
From being a life-saver, she thought bleakly, this offer of a job had turned into a nightmare. Sipping the unwanted sherry, she stared into the flames, trying to sort out the confusion in her mind. Surely being offered a post in Rafe’s house was too much of a coincidence?
Yet it couldn’t have been planned…Or could it?
But if it had been planned, why? What could Rafe possibly hope to gain?
The answer was, he had nothing to gain and everything to lose if Fiona found out.
But still the suspicion was there, and Madeleine wondered, had Rafe, for whatever reason, put his godmother up to it? Had George Rampling really any need for a physiotherapist, or had the whole thing been an elaborate hoax?
Though how could they possibly have known she was coming back to England? It had been such a last-minute decision that no one other than Eve and Noel had known.
Except Katie.
She had emailed the child late on Saturday night, so it would have been the following morning before she read it, and later on that same day Mrs Rampling had contacted Grizedale Clinic…
But how had she known to do that? How could she have known…?
‘Penny for your thoughts.’ Rafe’s voice sounded amused, a little mocking.
Madeleine looked up slowly and met those gleaming eyes. ‘Does Mr Rampling really need physiotherapy, or was the whole thing just a pack of lies?’
‘No, everything that Harriet told you was true. She’s been on the lookout for a live-in physiotherapist for weeks now.’