Ruthless Tycoon, Innocent Wife

s when he had met Fiona and she had reeled him in like a fish. Looking back, he could see their relationship had been all about lust on his part and greed on hers. She had been shallow, a butterfly. Gorgeous to look at, but that was all. She had served as a salutary lesson in the wisdom of future autonomy, of taking what he wanted when he wanted it from women who knew the score and needed happy-ever-after as little as he did, but that was all. Fiona hadn’t really left a deep ache in his life once he was over the initial sense of betrayal. This woman would be different. Like her mother, she had the ability to keep a man hooked long after she’d said goodbye.

‘Anyway, you can rest assured I’ll give one hundred per cent commitment until I’m not needed.’

Marianne’s voice brought him back to himself. In a voice which sounded ungracious even to himself, Rafe said, ‘Do I have your word on that?’

The deep brown of her eyes became like granite. ‘I’ve said, haven’t I?’

‘Forgive me, but I’ve learnt not to rely on what a woman says.’

‘Then you’ve been mixing with the wrong sort of women, Mr Steed.’

‘We’re past Mr Steed.’ He grinned at her. ‘You can insult me and still use Rafe, you know.’

He saw one corner of her delectable mouth twitch but she didn’t smile, her voice prim as she said, ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’

The steaks came and were eaten, along with the dessert of chocolate fudge cake and ice cream. They talked of inconsequential things on the whole, keeping it light and informal, but Rafe found he was putting himself out to make her smile and then feeling inordinately pleased when he succeeded. Taking the warning the red light in his mind had flashed up, he ordered coffee for them both. He didn’t think for a minute she would invite him in when he walked her home, but just in case…

Then he cut across all his good intentions by saying, ‘So, anyone in your life at the moment, Marianne?’ Cursing himself, he added quickly, ‘I was just thinking it would be an added complication if so, with you moving to Cornwall.’

She seemed to take his words at face value. ‘No one special,’ she said lightly. ‘I’ve lots of good friends in London but that’s all. How about you?’

He shook his head. ‘Long-term relationships aren’t my thing—too difficult to maintain. The business comes first.’

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the soft woolly top she had on clinging to her breasts. His body hardened.

‘In a different sort of way, I suppose that’s been a bit of a problem for me, too. My work involves unsocial hours at times, evening work visiting patients and families and so on, and there’s always a mountain of paperwork to do at weekends.’ She wrinkled her small nose. ‘I ought to keep on top of it during the day at work but I find it more tempting to fit in an extra patient instead. Still, the reports and case conferences and all the rest of it have to be done. Not that I’ve lived as a nun the last few years, of course.’

She smiled at him and he forced a smile back. He found he didn’t like the thought of her in another man’s arms. Knowing he was opening a can of worms, he said, ‘So you’ve never lived with anyone, been engaged, anything on that level?’

She stared at him for a moment. ‘No.’

Knowing he had no right to ask, Rafe said, ‘But you want marriage, kids, the whole caboodle at some point, surely?’

‘Do I?’

She didn’t seem offended, more amused if anything. ‘Don’t you?’ he persisted evenly.

‘Yes, I suppose so. Yes—’ she seemed to make up her mind ‘—but everything would have to be right. I’ve seen so many of my friends settle for—’ again she paused ‘—well, less than I would. I suppose it comes from seeing my parents so happy and in love.’ She stopped abruptly, adding, ‘Sorry, but they were.’

He inclined his head. ‘Don’t apologise. Mine were, too, in their own way.’

Uncomfortably now, she said, ‘I wasn’t trying to make a point, Rafe.’

‘I know that.’ He did. She wasn’t the type of person to indulge in sly digs; she was too straightforward for that. Nevertheless, the more relaxed atmosphere of the last hour had vanished. He glanced at his watch and then stood up. ‘I’ll walk you home if you’re ready.’

‘No, there’s no need for that. It’s only a minute or two to my flat.’ She stood up hastily, gathering her bag and cardigan as she said, ‘Thank you for the meal. It was lovely.’

‘I insist, Marianne. I’ve never yet let a woman walk home alone and I don’t intend to start with you.’

‘Rafe, this is a respectable part of London, not a no-go area in some foreign port or other. I’ll be perfectly all right. I know the streets round here like the back of my hand and they are inhabited by nice respectable folk on the whole.’

He caught a shred of amusement in her voice and immediately his hackles rose. ‘I’m walking you home,’ he repeated tonelessly. ‘That does not mean I intend to make a move on you, if that’s what you’re thinking.’

The amusement was gone when she responded vehemently, ‘Of course I didn’t think that. It’s just not necessary, that’s all.’

He didn’t know whether to be offended or take it as a compliment. ‘Necessary or not, that’s what’s happening.’

He kept his hand on her elbow as they walked to the door, the waitress who had served them—and to whom he had given a very generous tip—falling over herself to remind them that she hoped she would be seeing them again soon.