Tycoon's Choice: Kept by the Tycoon / Taken by the Tycoon / The Tycoon's Proposal. Kathryn Ross
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he had helped her out, he handed the keys to the doorman and they made their way down the steps and in through a door at the bottom.
‘Good evening, Mr Lombard. Nice to see you.’ Clearly well-known, Rafe was welcomed inside.
As he signed in he was greeted by a couple who looked inclined to attach themselves, until he said with smooth politeness, ‘Well, if you’ll excuse us?’ and led Madeleine away.
When they were out of earshot, he added, ‘Jo and Tom are very nice, but I wanted you all to myself tonight.’
She flushed with pleasure.
There was a mere handful of people in the bar, even fewer in the restaurant, and the dance floor was empty, its dark mirrors reflecting nothing.
‘It doesn’t get busy until later, so we’ll have plenty of time to dine in comfort and then we can dance later.’
Just the thought of being held in his arms made her temperature rise even more.
When they were settled at a table and had been given menus, he asked, ‘Is there anything in particular you fancy?’
Wanting only to watch his face in the candlelight, she shook her head. ‘You order for me.’
The order given, they were sipping an aperitif when he reached across the table and, taking her slim but strong hand, examined it.
‘You said your father had healing hands. Have you?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ she said honestly. ‘Nor have I my father’s sheer dedication.’
‘So you’re not a committed career woman?’ He glanced up and met her gaze.
‘Not really. I could be just as happy being a wife and mother.’
‘At the risk of sounding chauvinistic, I find that highly commendable in this materialistic age. Most of the women I’ve met have been career-orientated. Being ‘just’ a wife and mother comes a very poor second to their independence. No wonder so many men feel threatened…’
His white smile flashed suddenly. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t want a brainless, compliant woman, no matter how beautiful she was, nor would I want a clinging vine…’
‘What would you want?’ She laughed.
‘An intelligent, independently minded woman who was capable of standing beside me as my equal. Yet a woman who would be willing to put her home and family before her career.’
Had he stayed single because he couldn’t find the right kind of woman? she wondered. Or was that just an excuse so he could go on playing the field?
As though he knew exactly what she was thinking, he added, ‘Someone with all those qualities isn’t easy to find. That’s one of the reasons I haven’t been in a hurry to marry.’
‘Then you intend to?’ The instant the words were out she wished them unsaid, and the warm colour rose in her cheeks.
A hint of amusement in his voice, he said, ‘Oh yes, I fully intend to…’
To Madeleine’s relief the arrival of the first course provided a welcome diversion, and during the rest of what proved to be a very enjoyable meal Rafe kept the conversation light and general.
They had reached the coffee stage before he returned to more personal matters, by asking, ‘Do you enjoy your work at the clinic?’
‘Yes. Though of course it’s just a temporary post, and part-time.’
‘You have private patients as well?’
‘Some. But by the time this job ends I’m hoping to have more,’ Madeleine said, taking a sip of her coffee.
‘Do you treat children?’ Rafe asked.
‘Oh, yes. At the moment I’m visiting a young boy who injured his knee playing football. Why do you ask?’
‘My sister, Diane, and her husband, Stuart, have a problem. A couple of months ago their ten-year-old daughter, Katie, was quite badly injured when she fell from her horse. Since leaving hospital Katie has been treated at home, but it seems she’s grown to dislike her present physiotherapist and has refused to have any further treatment. Would you be willing to take a look at her?’
A little flustered, Madeleine agreed, ‘Of course. If you think I’ll be able to help.’
‘If Katie takes to you, and I can’t imagine she won’t, you could be the answer to all our prayers…More coffee?’
‘I don’t think so, thank you.’
Rafe smiled a dazzling smile and asked. ‘Then would you like to dance?’
The club had started to fill up, and there were several couples already on the floor.
Madeleine’s eyes lit up. ‘Yes, I’d love to.’
Even in her own ears her words sounded eager and breathless, and as he took her hand and led her onto the floor she wondered where the old cool and composed Madeleine had gone.
Though it was a long time since she had been on a dance floor, she had always enjoyed dancing. But this was something special.
He was a good dancer, light on his feet and with a purely masculine grace. As he held her to his heart, his cheek against her hair, they moved round the floor as though made for each other.
For Madeleine the rest of the evening passed in a kind of dream as, without speaking, just enjoying the music and the closeness, they danced every dance.
When the floor started to get crowded, Rafe murmured in her ear, ‘About ready to go?’
She nodded, a little shiver of excitement running down her spine. She hadn’t allowed herself to think any further than dining and dancing at Annabel’s, but now the evening was over and the night lay ahead.
When she was settled in the Porsche, he turned to look directly into her eyes. ‘I shared your bed last night. Will you come to Denver Court tonight and share mine?’
A betraying catch in her voice, she agreed lightly, ‘That seems only fair.’
As they drew up outside the imposing tower-block complex and he helped her out, one of the night security staff came hurrying over.
‘Evening, Mr Lombard…Anything I can do for you?’
‘Could you put the car away, please, Jim?’ A folded note changed hands.
His arm around her waist, Rafe escorted Madeleine into the building and across the pale marble-floored foyer to the lift.
On the top floor they stepped out into a wide, luxuriously carpeted area with a white and gold decor and extravagant arrangements of fresh flowers.
When he let them into his apartment and flicked on the lights, she saw that he occupied one of the corner penthouse suites. From the spacious and attractive L-shaped living room, French windows led onto a walled patio and garden.
She gasped as she looked around her, taking in the luxurious surroundings. Rafe smiled and bent to touch his lips to the warmth of her nape, before asking, ‘Would you like a nightcap?’
Shivering a little at the caress, and impatient for the pleasures to come, she shook her head.
Taking her hand in his, he led her through to a large en suite bedroom with pale walls and a thundercloud-blue carpet and curtains.
Opening a connecting door into a similar room decorated in ivory tones, he suggested, ‘If you’d like to use the guestroom facilities you’ll find everything there you need.’
In the well-appointed bathroom there was indeed everything a guest could want, including slippers and a white towelling robe.
She found herself wondering how often he brought his women back here.
It was an uncomfortable