Tycoon's Choice: Kept by the Tycoon / Taken by the Tycoon / The Tycoon's Proposal. Kathryn Ross
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smiled briefly. ‘I wouldn’t have expected you to. As a matter of fact it was carefully planned.’
Fear sidled up to her and took her hand. With a sickening feeling that she’d walked into some kind of a trap, she felt her mouth go dry and the blood in her veins turn to ice.
Putting the sherry glass on the table with shaking fingers, she crossed her arms and rubbed her palms up and down her bare arms as though she was cold.
The last time they had met, he’d said, ‘One day we’ll meet again…’ That was all. He hadn’t said what he would do when they did meet, but there had been an underlying threat in the quietly spoken words, a hint of menace, that even now made her shiver at the memory.
Making an effort to fight off the panic, she told herself stoutly that she was just being silly. What could he possibly do to her?
But there was a hardness about him, a barely leashed anger, that made her afraid.
Unsteadily, she demanded, ‘How did you know I was coming home?’
‘How do you think?’
‘Katie?’
‘Got it in one. Knowing I was—shall we say?—interested, Diane has been keeping me up-to-date on what was happening in Boston. When she got your email, Katie was so excited she couldn’t wait to tell her mother.’ The ice clinked in his whisky glass as he took a sip.
‘That still doesn’t explain how you found out enough to be able to trick me into coming here. How you knew I was looking for a live-in post. Only Eve…’ She stopped speaking abruptly.
Remembering their last conversation, her friend’s strange volte-face, her obvious uneasiness, the way she had admitted to having second thoughts, Madeleine asked sharply, ‘When did you talk to Eve?’
‘When Diane told me you were coming home I wanted to know exactly what your plans were, and I felt sure Eve would know. I finally managed to contact her at the clinic, and after some initial resistance on her part we had quite a long talk. She told me what she was trying to do for you, and I mentioned I might be able to help.
‘All I had to do was suggest to Harriet that she rang the clinic’s physiotherapy department and talked to a Miss Collins—which she was only too pleased to do.’
So as well as using his godmother, he had used Eve…But what had he said to her to get her to talk to him? And why hadn’t Eve told her?
As if she’d spoken the thought aloud, he said, ‘In the end it was easier than I’d anticipated. I didn’t even need to ask Eve not to say anything. It was she who suggested that it would be better if you didn’t know I was involved until we’d had a chance to talk. I think she was afraid you might change your mind about coming back…’
There was a tap at the door, and the housekeeper put her head round to say, ‘Dinner’s all ready when you are.’
‘Thank you, Mary, we’ll serve ourselves. You can leave anything else that needs to be done until Annie gets here.’
‘Thanks…I’ll say goodnight, then.’
‘Goodnight.’
As the latch clicked, realising belatedly that she should have used the opportunity to escape, Madeleine jumped to her feet and started for the door, crying, ‘Mrs Boyce—’
An arm snaked round her waist and a cool hand covered her mouth.
Pulling her back against him, Rafe put his lips to the side of her neck and murmured softly, ‘That’s not on, my sweet. I don’t want Mary involved.’
Trembling, shaken to the core by the caress that was no caress, she stood quite still.
As soon as he released her, she rounded on him. ‘And I don’t want to be kept here against my will.’
Then, helplessly, ‘I can’t understand what you’re hoping to gain, why you went to so much trouble to get me here.’
He took a stray tendril of blonde hair that had escaped and tugged it gently, making her flinch away. ‘It was no trouble. In fact the whole thing worked incredibly smoothly.’
She gritted her teeth. ‘Why—?’
‘We’ll talk about it after dinner.’
‘I don’t want any dinner.’
His green, lazy-river eyes heavy-lidded and sensual, he said, ‘Well, if you really don’t want to eat, I can think of something a great deal more exciting to do…’
Wondering frantically if he meant what she thought he meant, she stared up at him.
Softly, he went on, ‘So it will suit me fine if you decide against eating.’
He held out both hands. ‘Shall we go upstairs?’
Chapter Six
HER normally low, well-modulated voice shrill, she cried, ‘No, I don’t want you to touch me. I couldn’t bear it.’
‘The choice is yours.’ He smiled. Seeing her expression change, he sighed. ‘I gather eating’s preferable.’
‘Anything would be preferable,’ she said primly.
‘Sassy, eh?’ Taking her chin, he tilted her face up to his.
Every nerve ending in her body jerked, and it was all she could do to keep from crying out.
Watching what little colour she had drain away, he remarked silkily, ‘I’m beginning to think you’re scared of me.’
‘Well, you’re wrong,’ she retorted.
‘You mean you’re not?’
‘No, I’m not,’ she lied. ‘I just can’t bear you to touch me.’
‘So you said. But I’m afraid you’re going to have to get used to it…’
The faint hum and beep of a fax machine cut through his words.
‘If you’ll excuse me for just a moment, I’ll make sure that’s nothing important.’ He disappeared into the office.
Her legs feeling too weak to support her, she sank down in the nearest chair. As she did so her eyes lit on the phone on the nearby table. Eve had said, ‘Now, don’t forget, if you’re not happy with the situation, let me know straight away.’
If she could put Eve in the picture, it would seem like a lifeline. With a nervous glance towards the office, she hurried across and picked up the receiver.
She was just tapping in the number when a lean, tanned hand reached over her shoulder and depressed the receiver rest. As she caught her breath, he took the receiver from her hand and replaced it.
‘Dear me,’ he said mildly. ‘It seems I can’t take my eyes off you.’
Turning to face him in the confined space, she said as steadily as possible, ‘I promised to ring Eve…’
He studied her face, and she tingled under the scrutiny of those green eyes. ‘There’ll be time for that later.’
‘I’d prefer to do it now,’ she insisted.
‘Our meal will be spoiling…’ He reached out a lazy hand and stroked a fingertip down her cheek. Her body trapped between his and the table, she stood perfectly still, afraid to move.
‘Unless you’ve changed your mind about eating?’ he queried.
‘No, I haven’t changed my mind,’ she said thickly.
He sighed. ‘A pity, but still…’
One hand cupping her bare elbow, he led her to the white-walled, black-beamed dining room, where a candlelit refectory table was set for two.
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