Millionaire's Woman

The morning star was high in a sky which was turning from mauve washed with midnight-blue to deep velvetblack when the car finally turned off the wide, pleasant avenue they’d been travelling along for a minute or so. A smaller road, almost a lane, took them past several houses set in beautifully manicured grounds. After several hundred metres there were no buildings at all, just the high stone wall one side and to their left rolling fields in which the round white bodies of sheep stood out in the evening shadows. Then the stone wall curved round in front of them, forming the end of the lane, and after drawing to a halt Nick opened the wrought iron gates set in the wall by remote control.

This was going to be some property! Even before they drove on to the long gravelled drive winding between established flower beds and mature trees, Cory was preparing herself for her first sight of Nick’s home. And then there it was in front of her. A large mellow-stoned thatched building flanked either side by magnificent horse chestnut trees, its leaded windows on the ground floor lit by lights within the house.

‘Good,’ Nick murmured at the side of her. ‘Rosie’s remembered to leave the lights on. She always comes in and stocks up the fridge when she knows I’m coming home,’ he added as they drew up in front of the huge stone steps leading to the front door.

‘Nick…’ For a moment Cory was devoid of speech. ‘This is beautiful, just beautiful.’

He smiled at her in the shadows, his blue eyes glittering. ‘I fell in love with the place the fi

rst time I ever saw it,’ he admitted softly. ‘It dates from 1703, although bits have been added here and there. Come in and have a look.’

The minute Cory stepped into the wide gracious hall she knew the inside of the house was going to match the outside. Warm-toned oak floorboards stretched into every room on the ground floor, their richness interspersed with big rugs. The huge sitting room, which overlooked the grounds at the back of the house, had big squashy sofas, one wall lined with books, low coffee tables and an enormous fireplace with a pile of logs in one corner ready for burning. The dining room, big breakfast room, Nick’s study and the farmhouse-style kitchen complete with Aga were all beautifully decorated but with a cosy feel to them which ran throughout the house.

By the downstairs cloakroom off the hall an open tread wooden staircase led to four generous-sized double bedrooms, all with en suite bathrooms, and a gigantic master bedroom. This room caused Cory to take a sharp breath when she first entered it. It wasn’t the walk-in dressing room, which would have swallowed her sitting room at home, or even the en suite bathroom, which was more luxurious than the one in Nick’s flat that was the trouble. It was the bed. It was unlike any bed Cory had ever seen. In fact, it was more of an ocean of billowy space than anything else.

That he had been expecting her discomfiture was obvious in the amused tilt to his mouth when he said, ‘You might have guessed I had the bed made specially. I’m a big boy; I like a lot of room.’

‘You’ve certainly got that,’ she squeaked weakly, wondering how many of his women he had shared it with.

It was set in front of huge windows, which had the same outlook as the sitting room below, the three carpeted steps which led to it the same length as the bed. The duvet and numerous pillows and cushions were various shades of coffee and taupe and this colour scheme was reflected through the whole suite. The bed was sensual and outrageous and sinful; it dominated the whole room and declared without any apology that pleasure was its chief aim.

Cory had to clear her dry throat before she could say, ‘The…grounds look very nice from what I can see in the dark.’ Nick had switched some outside lights on before he had begun to show her round the house, and now an area stretching some distance from the building was revealed.

‘Oh, it is nice, Cory,’ he said seriously.

Too seriously. She glanced at him sharply. He was laughing at her. She knew it, but she also knew she needed at least two glasses of a good wine before she could relax enough to contemplate that bed with any confidence or, more to the point, the man who slept in it.

She could just imagine the model type beauties who normally graced its languorous folds, she thought miserably. Suddenly all her imperfections had ballooned to giant size—particularly the vastness of her bottom and the dimples she could see at the tops of her legs when she looked hard enough. And Nick would be looking.

‘What’s outside, exactly?’ she asked with what she hoped was cool dignity.

‘Exactly?’

He grinned that fascinatingly sexy grin and Cory upped the wine to three glasses.

‘Let’s see. Covered swimming pool and sauna which can be reached via a door off the kitchen as well as from outside. I’ll show you when we go downstairs. Plus a tennis court and croquet lawn, an orchard and a walled garden, which is very old-fashioned but quite cute. And lawns and trees and bushes, of course.’

‘Wow.’ Her eyes had widened. ‘Quite a bit of land then.’

‘A bit, but manageable. I have a gardener come in once a week for a few hours.’

She nodded. Another world really. Her parents hadn’t been badly off and she had certainly never wanted for anything materially, but this sort of wealth was a thing apart. Of course she’d known his little empire was successful—he’d told her early on in their relationship that he’d been in the right place doing the right thing at the right time—but confronted with this beautiful house the reality of how rich he must be hit her for the first time.

She became aware that he was studying her face, the amusement gone from his eyes. ‘Relax, Cory,’ he said softly. ‘This is Nick, not William, remember? You’re allowed to leave this room without being ravished if that’s what you want. I wanted you to see my home, that’s all.’

That was only half true and she knew it. He wouldn’t be human if he wasn’t hoping for more from this weekend and he had been patient, allowing her time. They couldn’t go on as they had been doing; their relationship either had to end or go on to the next stage.

And then suddenly he took her hand, his voice quite normal when he said, ‘Come and look at the pool and then we’ll see about some supper and a glass of wine. It’s a gorgeous night, how about we take it outside?’

‘That’d be nice.’ Her relief was overwhelming. No doubt girlfriends in the past had just gaily stripped off and jumped into bed without a thought in their pretty heads except how to please him and how he could please them—young, carefree, eager beauties who were self-assured and modern without any hang-ups. She envied them. How she envied them.

The pool complex was gorgeous but they didn’t tarry there. The very capable Rosie had packed Nick’s fridge with everything needed for a romantic supper for two, and within a short while they were sitting outside at the patio table, which was spread with all sorts of delicious delicacies. Nick had apparently asked his sister to put a bottle of champagne on ice, and after pouring two glasses he handed her one, saying, ‘To us.’

It was a perfect summer’s night. Stars overhead, the stone beneath their feet still retaining the day’s heat and the garden bathed in a moonlit silence which was magical. The air was rich with the perfume of scented stock and fragrant night lilies which were in pots all around the patio, a faint breeze carrying the delicious scents on its meanderings.

Cory breathed very deeply and took a sip of the ice-cold champagne that tasted faintly of strawberries. ‘I wonder that you can bear to leave here for the city.’

‘So do I tonight.’ His voice was husky and his blue eyes held hers in the glow from the candles he had lit before switching off the outside lights. The house behind them and the grounds stretching in front had all been relegated to the shadows of the night; it was as if they were the only two people in the world in their flickering circle of light.