Tycoon's Choice: Kept by the Tycoon / Taken by the Tycoon / The Tycoon's Proposal. Kathryn Ross
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it lasted.
When she had cleaned her teeth and showered, she brushed out her long, silky hair and, a little shy, put on the towelling robe before making her way back to Rafe’s room.
He was just emerging from his bathroom, stark naked apart from a towel slung round his neck that he was using onehanded to rub his dark hair.
As she hesitated in the doorway, tossing aside the towel, he held out both hands. ‘Come here.’
Loving that touch of arrogance, she went to him, and was rewarded with a lingering kiss.
He had shaved, and she could smell the fresh, spicy scent of his cologne. Eyes still closed, she put up a hand and stroked his smooth cheek.
‘Mmm…’ she murmured.
Nuzzling his face against her throat, he said, ‘I intend to kiss every inch of you, and bristles can play havoc with delicate skin.’
Untying the belt of her robe, he slid his hands inside and, like a blind man reading Braille, ran his fingers over her slender body, savouring the purely tactile pleasure.
It was strangely erotic, and by the time his hands returned to her breasts she was quivering all over. When his thumbs brushed lightly across the sensitive nipples, she gasped.
As he continued to tease, soon aroused to fever-pitch, she pressed her hips against his.
But, refusing to be hurried, he said, ‘We’ve got all night. Plenty of time to take things slow and easy, to ravish you, in the best sense of the word.’
She wondered how he could be so patient, so willing to wait for his own pleasure.
As though reading her mind, he said softly, ‘Your body responds so delightfully to my every touch, it makes the pleasure mutual.’
He put his mouth to her breast and laved the nipple with his tongue. ‘You like that, don’t you?’
She shuddered, and, holding his dark head between her hands, breathed, ‘Yes, but I don’t think I can stand much more…’
‘Oh, I think you can.’
When he finally lifted her onto the bed and stretched out beside her, she was almost mindless, poised on the brink.
He stoked a caressing hand down her slender figure and, finding the warm, silky skin of her inner thighs, used a single long finger to tip her over. Her whole body bucked convulsively, and she lay quivering and helpless until the exquisite sensations began to die away.
She felt a little triste. She had wanted to make love with him, to share the experience, to know he was feeling the same delight and joy she was feeling.
When she opened dazed eyes, he was watching her.
Smiling at her, as though he understood perfectly, he said, ‘It’s all right,’ and with those skilful hands he proceeded to reawaken the desire she had thought sated.
Then slowly, very slowly, as though to draw every last ounce of pleasure out of it, he made love to her, building up a molten core of heat, a spiralling tension, until the tension snapped and sent them both rocketing into space.
She drifted back to earth to find his dark head was lying on her breast and his hand holding hers. It was one of the sweetest sensations she had ever felt.
Her heart overflowing with love and gratitude she lay quietly enjoying their closeness until he moved away and, turning onto his back, gathered her against him and settled her head on his shoulder.
Chapter Three
AFTER a night OF love-making, it was almost ten o’clock when Madeleine woke. She was alone in the big bed, but just as that fact registered the door opened and Rafe came in carrying a tray.
His dark hair was still damp from the shower, and he was wearing a short, navy-blue silk robe. ‘Good morning.’ He smiled lazily as she pushed herself upright. ‘I thought we’d be decadent and have breakfast in bed.’
He put the tray on the bedside table and, leaning over to kiss her, remarked wickedly, ‘After the night we’ve just spent, I don’t know how you can look so beautiful and fresh.’
‘I’m happy,’ she said simply. She had never thought she would say those words again.
He smiled at her. ‘Happiness suits you.’
As he sat on the bed and fed her toast and scrambled eggs and coffee, his voice casual, Rafe suggested, ‘Tell me some more about yourself.’
Instantly uneasy, she said, ‘There’s not a great deal to tell.’
Sensing that unease, and wondering what was causing it, he decided to go slowly. ‘Do your parents still live in London?’
‘They got divorced when I was twelve.’
‘Presumably it was your father’s dedication to work that caused the break-up.’
‘Yes. Though my mother loved him passionately, eventually she got fed up with him never being there for us.’ Madeleine turned her head away from him.
‘Was it an amicable parting?’
‘As amicable as these things ever can be.’
Rafe probed further, ‘But you must have missed him?’
‘Yes, I did, and I don’t think my mother ever really got over it.’ She felt her eyes begin to water, but she smiled as she looked up at Rafe.
‘She didn’t marry again?’
‘No. I believe she still loves him. Certainly there was never anyone else.’
‘Do you still see him?’
Madeleine shook her head. ‘Some time after the divorce he remarried and went to live in Los Angeles. We haven’t had any contact for years.’
Then, wanting to escape from the spotlight, she said quickly, ‘Now it’s your turn to tell me something about yourself.’
His face straight, he replied, ‘There’s not a great deal to tell.’ He laughed and kissed her, before beginning, ‘I lost my father when I was twelve. A year after he died, my mother married again. Her new husband was an ex-army officer.’
‘Did you all get on as a family?’
‘Diane, who’s seven years older than me, was away at university, so that left just the three of us, and unfortunately my stepfather and I didn’t get along. I resented him taking my father’s place and showed it, which, with hindsight, must have made life extremely difficult for my mother. My stepfather was a strict disciplinarian and after he’d whacked me a couple of times for what he termed insolence, I began to seriously hate his guts.’ Rafe paused for a moment before continuing.
‘Things went from bad to worse, and the whacks changed to beatings. On the final occasion, when he began to lay into me with his belt, my mother tried to intervene. He pushed her out of the way so roughly that she stumbled and fell. I saw red and went for him. I wasn’t quite fourteen at the time.’
Her aquamarine eyes full of concern, Madeleine asked, ‘What happened?’
Matter-of-factly, he said, ‘I managed to split his lip before ending up in Casualty.’
As she winced he added, ‘I think he may have been genuinely sorry afterwards. But it was patently obvious that things couldn’t go on like that, so I was hastily packed off to live with my godparents.’
Madeleine reached out to touch his arm. ‘Were you very upset?’
‘For a time I was very bitter,’ he admitted. ‘Though my godparents were amazing.’
‘Had they any children of their own?’
‘One daughter, Fiona. But they had always hoped for a son, and were only too delighted to have me.’
‘Fiona