Ruthless Tycoon, Innocent Wife

‘Blinkered, then.’ She wondered why he hadn’t minded rude and overbearing. ‘Seeing things only your way—the way your father has put them.’

‘Excuse me for pointing out the obvious, but aren’t you doing exactly the same?’ Rafe said mildly. ‘Seeing things purely from your mother and father’s standpoint?’

Whilst mentally acknowledging he was right, Marianne said vehemently, ‘That’s different.’

‘I thought it might be.’

Impossible man. Feeling outmanoeuvred, Marianne took refuge in cool dignity. ‘I’m not prepared to discuss this any longer and I suggest if this deal goes through that ought to be the criteria for the future, too. On the rare occasions we meet,’ she added crisply.

‘Suits me.’ His eyes had gone flat and cold.

‘Good.’ She looked at him and swallowed, feeling miserable. ‘Shall we go back to the others now?’

‘Of course.’

He had slid out of the low car and walked round to open her door for her while she was still fumbling with the handle, helping her out of the vehicle with the old-fashioned courtesy that was rare these days. But nice—very nice. Whilst being extremely capable and even fiercely independent on occasion, Marianne had never understood why some women objected to such little expressions of chivalry from a man.

They returned to the restaurant with nothing further being said and as they sat down at the table the waitress brought their first courses, which got them over an awkward moment. It was much later in the meal—over a wonderful dessert of pears poached in a rich citrus syrup—that Tom brought up the subject of the partnership. ‘Do I take it any differences have been ironed out?’ he asked carefully, and Rafe looked at her, one dark eyebrow quirked as he waited for her answer.

Marianne glanced from Rafe’s dark face to Crystal’s eager one and sighed inwardly. I can’t say no, she thought with resignation. It would be stupid. And he knows it. He knows he’s got me over a barrel. And maybe I have seemed ungrateful thus far, but only because of his comments about my parents. And his attitude. Oh, yes, his attitude needles me all right. Forcing a bright smile, she said, ‘I think so. Mr Steed and I had a heart-to-heart and have agreed to disagree about certain issues which do not affect the proposal.’

‘Right.’ Tom appeared slightly anxious. ‘Good, good.’ He clearly wanted to ask what the issues were but didn’t feel he could do so.

Crystal had no such inhibitions. Her expression changing, she leant forward and spoke directly to Marianne. ‘Look, sweetheart, if you’re not happy with something, then we’ll think again, OK? What are these issues?’

‘I’ll explain later,’ Marianne said in a voice which warned Crystal not to pursue it.

‘That’s settled, then,’ Rafe spoke into the small silence which had fallen, his voice lazy and cool. ‘I’ll phone my father later on and, in the meantime, instruct my solicitor to have a word with you, Tom. We’d like to get this finalised quickly. I expect completion on the Haywards’ property within two weeks and once my father is over here I see no reason to delay work on Seacrest.’

‘Hang on a sec.’ Marianne felt as if she’d been run over by a steamroller. Trying to control the host of emotions which had been rampaging through her head since their talk in the car park, she said, ‘I’ve got to give in my notice at work and on my flat. There’s loads to do.’

‘Quite.’ Piercing blue eyes bored into her face. ‘Which is why delay is not an option.’

Sticking her heels in, Marianne glared at him. ‘I have to give at least a month’s notice at work.’

‘In view of the unusual circumstances, I’m sure they would view things compassionately,’ he said smoothly. ‘Would you like me to have a word with someone?’

‘No, I would not,’ she said in a clipped voice. The very idea! ‘I’m perfectly capable of saying anything which needs to be said, thank you, but there is no way I would leave them in the lurch by going early. I shan’t be moving down here for a month.’ She didn’t add, Take it or leave it, but nevertheless the words hung in the air.

‘Very well.’

Marianne stared into the dark face. She had won the first small confrontation, so why didn’t it feel like it? Seconds later, she knew it was because she hadn’t won.

‘I shall therefore bring the selection of designs and ideas I’ve

asked my architect to sketch out to you in London for discussion,’ Rafe continued silkily. ‘Until we’ve decided on the basics, work cannot commence. What’s your address and work and home numbers? And your mobile number, too, please, in case I can’t reach you any time.’

Marianne was lost for words. Here at Seacrest, she had Crystal to act as something of a buffer between them but in London there would be no one. She didn’t want to entertain Rafe Steed in her small flat any more than she had wanted to sit in his car with him, but somehow that was going to happen. She gave him the required information stiffly, ignoring the glint in the blue eyes which told her more clearly than any words that he was thoroughly enjoying her discomfiture.

She managed to remain civil throughout the coffee stage of the lunch but by the time they left the restaurant she felt her nerves were stretched as tight as piano wire. The feeling wasn’t helped when Rafe took her hand in the car park, shaking it and then holding her fingers a few seconds longer than was necessary when he said, ‘Till we meet again in London, then.’

He was laughing at her. It didn’t show in the expressionless carved features of his face, but his eyes were a giveaway.

Deciding her only course was to take his words at face value and pretend she didn’t know, Marianne said carefully, ‘Goodbye, Mr Steed.’

‘I think if we’re going to be partners we’d better drop the formality, don’t you, Marianne?’

Again the sound of her name on his lips caused the traitorous shiver deep inside. Praying he hadn’t sensed it, she said tightly, ‘OK, fine,’ and snatched her fingers back.