Lynne Graham's Brides of L'Amour Bundle

‘Look, if I had wanted money, I wouldn’t have offered to do this. It wouldn’t be right to take money for going through a marriage ceremony. I mean, all you want to do is hang onto the home that’s been in your family for generations and there’s no way you should have to pay me or anyone else to do that!’

Roel dealt her a cool, measuring scrutiny. ‘I have no wish to become too personal but you live on the poverty line and you have little hope of improving your own prospects—’

‘That’s a matter of opinion—’

‘A financial injection would give you choices you’ve never had before. You could go back to school—’

Hilary gave him an aghast look. ‘No, thanks. It was bad enough the first time round. I didn’t just end up doing what I do, you know…I always wanted to be a hairdresser and I love it!’

‘You should continue your education,’ Roel completed as though she hadn’t spoken. ‘Expand your horizons. You should be more ambitious.’

‘Would you go out with me if I went to college?’ Hilary asked in sudden hope. ‘I suppose you wouldn’t want to wait that long.’

‘Don’t be flippant. I was merely trying to offer you some advice.’

‘And tempt me with your money.’

And he had tempted her successfully because in the days that followed she worked out that she could turn her life and her sister’s life around with just a fraction of the vast sum of cash he had mentioned. If she found them a flat in a nicer area, she would be able to separate her sibling from the bunch of troublemakers that the younger girl was hanging around with. If she opened up a small hair salon of her own, she would be able to choose her own working hours and spend more time at home with Emma. In the end she agreed to accept a tithe of the amount he had wanted to give her. She was seduced by the idea of what she could do with that money and only after she accepted Roel’s cheque did she realise how much of his respect she had lost.

As she suppressed a sigh for a past that could not be altered Hilary’s mind roved back to the present. She was rudely sprung from her drowsiness by the sound of a door opening. A second later, lights illuminated the room. Startled and blinking furiously, she focused on Roel and tried to persuade her brain back into activity.

Before she could achieve that goal, however, an imperious hand closed over the edge of the bedding and flung it back from her prone body. She let out a yelp of mingled astonishment and mortification. He bent down and scooped her up like a parcel he had come to retrieve.

‘What are you doing?’ she squealed.

‘From now on, we share the same bed, cara,’ Roel delivered, striding back into his own room with both arms firmly wrapped round her.

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ Hilary mumbled.

CHAPTER FOUR

ROEL settled Hilary down on his bed.

Feverish heat lit her cheeks. The short blue nightdress she wore had not been chosen for modesty. In the privacy of her own bedroom, Hilary loved to wear highly feminine lingerie that made her feel glamorous but she had never had an audience before. Thrusting herself up into sitting position, she yanked in desperation at the sheet, keen to cover her bare legs.

He unbuttoned his shirt and embarked on removing his shoes. She stopped breathing. She told herself to look away b

ut she knew she wouldn’t. She was twenty-three years old and she had never seen a man undress. She had never even been alone in a bedroom with a man. Why? She was still a virgin. In many ways she thought that she was still a virgin because she had met Roel first and learnt to want what she could not have.

At nineteen she had discovered that physical desire could cut like a knife through every thought and all pride. Roel might not have reacted to her in the same way but she had never forgotten the sheer exhilarating strength of her response to him. Every guy who came into her life after him had been measured up against the same yardstick. She had wanted to feel again what she had felt for Roel and it had made her picky.

‘I’m going for a shower, bella mia…’

Face hot, she dredged her attention from the vibrant slice of muscular brown chest showing between the parted edges of his shirt. ‘I’m not beautiful…don’t call me that,’ she muttered.

Roel came down on the bed on one knee. Laughing dark golden eyes assailed hers. ‘If I tell you that you’re beautiful, I mean it—’

‘But—’

‘You have a heavenly shape—’

‘I’m not very tall—’

‘But what there is of you is of exceptional quality. I keep on getting an irresistible urge to snatch you off your feet and flatten you to the nearest bed…so here you are.’

Roel vaulted off the bed and unzipped his well-cut trousers.

‘You’re supposed to be resting…’ Hilary fought a valiant battle with her conscience and averted her eyes in chagrin at her own longing to spy on his every move. ‘I should be in my own room.’