Ruthless Tycoon, Innocent Wife

He did not allow himself to question why it was so important this woman remained in his life, even if it was on the perimeter. Ruthlessly he called upon the charm she had mentioned and which had rarely let him down in the past. ‘Harmony for Seacrest’s sake, then? How about that?’

She stared at him a little longer and then nodded once.

CHAPTER NINE

THE next few weeks were hectic and messy with umpteen minor panics as the builders moved in but, although she only averaged four or five hours’ sleep a night, Marianne welcomed the frantic pace. The knowledge that she was responsible to oversee the alterations to Seacrest virtually on her own was heavy at times, but it did mean her mind was fully concentrated on the job in hand. During the day, that was. Her dreams—which regularly featured a tall dark man with riveting blue eyes—she could do nothing about.

Andrew seemed surprisingly content to leave everything to her and Marianne had not expected this. Apart from the odd hour or two once or twice a week when he visited Seacrest with Crystal in tow, she only saw the pair of them when she called in Andrew’s house for her evening meal. Although Marianne had been determined to make no regular arrangement, this had gone by the board in the first week. After chatting with Andrew one evening shortly after Rafe had left, she had come to understand he had been confined to bed after a car accident for some months before the onset of his present illness. Consequently, when the leukaemia had reared its ugly head just as he had had some hope of becoming mobile again it had struck him doubly hard. It had also meant his limbs were weak and his mental attitude low. He had apparently refused to consider any therapy, which explained a lot to Marianne.

After some diplomatic persuasion, it had been agreed she would work with Rafe’s father for an hour before dinner each night, showing him how to encourage his joints to become flexible and mobile, improve his circulation and generally regain his independence. After gaining his trust, they’d gone on in leaps and bounds. She had worked out a plan of controlled activity for him during the day which Crystal oversaw, and then in the evening she completed the programme. From the beginning she had realised that Andrew’s psychological battle was greater than his physical limitations, but as the weeks had flown by he had made startling progress. She knew from experience that no two patients reacted to illness or disability in the same way, and with Rafe’s father the emphasis had to be always that he was in control. Once she had convinced him she did not see him as an invalid he had been putty in her hands.

Marianne had found—somewhat to her consternation—that the more she got to know Andrew, the more she liked him. For all his shouting and blustering he was a gentle man, and kind.

At the beginning of the fifth week, and two days before Rafe was due to return to England, the two of them finally had the talk Marianne had been both dreading and wishing for. After an hour’s therapy they were seated at the dining-room table waiting for Crystal to serve the soup when Andrew said, ‘Your parents would be proud of the way you’re coping, Annie. You know that, don’t you?’ He had taken to calling her Annie naturally, probably because Crystal did so.

‘Thank you.’

‘But then they were both strong people so I’m not surprised.’

She could hear Crystal in the kitchen and, knowing she would be bringing the soup tureen any moment, Marianne gathered her courage. ‘I know my mother was seeing you before she met my father,’ she said in a rush before she lost her nerve. ‘Rafe told me and I asked Crystal about it. They…well, they gave different versions about it and I wanted to know…’ Her voice petered out. Whenever she had rehearsed this moment it had been without Andrew’s calm steady gaze on her face.

‘You want to know how it really was,’ Andrew finished for her.

Marianne flushed. ‘My mother was a good person.’

‘Yes, she was, m’dear.’

‘But Rafe seems to think differently.’

‘Can I be frank with you?’ Andrew leant forward, his lined handsome face under its shock of white hair tender. ‘My son suffered quite a knock when he found out his wife was not what she seemed. He was idealistic in those days, even romantic. Nevertheless, he dusted himself off and got on with life on his own terms. I regret very much mentioning your mother to him because he misunderstood how things were. He loved his mother greatly, and for quite a while he felt I had slighted her in some way. This was not the case. I did care for your mother as a youth, Annie, but I loved my wife when I was a man. Your mother will always be a sweet memory, my first love. But Rafe’s mother was my life partner, the woman who had my name and my son. When I tried to explain this to Rafe he was not in the mood to listen. Because of his experience with Fiona he had become more cynical than I had imagined.’

‘So you didn’t feel she chose my father because he was wealthy and you weren’t?’ she asked baldly, needing to bring it out into the open. ‘Because of what he would give her materially?’

‘Your mother was one of the most unworldly people I’ve ever met. I can’t say I wasn’t bitterly disappointed and upset at the time but I never imagined money had anything to do with her decision. She simply fell in love. Unfortunately, we can’t always choose where we love. It happens like a spear sometimes, straight into the heart. Looking back, I know I knew how things were the moment I introduced them. It was as sudden as that for them both. Their faces gave them away.’

Marianne nodded, a great weight lifting. She had never doubted her mother for an instant but she had hated to think that Andrew had harboured a grudge against her parents all these years. ‘Rafe hates her,’ she murmured painfully.

‘No. He only thinks he does.’

‘That sounds very wise but isn’t it the same thing?’

Andrew gave a little grunt of amusement. ‘Now that could have been Gerald talking. No, I don’t think it’s the same thing at all. Would you like me to speak to him?’

She considered this for a moment. ‘No.’ Her chin

lifted. ‘I don’t think it would make any difference, not with Rafe. He has to come to his own decision about things.’

Andrew’s eyes narrowed. ‘Very perceptive of you.’

Crystal chose that moment to make an appearance and Marianne wasn’t sorry. She had the feeling that Andrew was pretty perceptive, too, and the last thing she wanted was to betray herself. It disturbed her more than she would admit that Rafe forced himself into her mind the minute her subconscious took over but every night it was the same, and the eroticism of her dreams were something else. Suddenly she didn’t recognise herself any more. She knew Rafe associated love with weakness and loss. He had made that abundantly plain. So why did the thought of seeing him again in the flesh cause her heart to slam like a sledgehammer?

Each night his lips met hers, each night he kissed her deeply and without reserve, leading her into an intimate place where she could taste him, feel his warmth and scent, the hard thrust of his body. And then, just when she felt she would explode from the force of pleasure welling inside her, she would wake up—alone. And sleep would be a million miles away with sexual frustration gnawing at her. Down she would pad to the kitchen, but the hot sweet milk and packet of chocolate digestives couldn’t completely dispel the lingering enchantment of that phantom lovemaking. She was going to be as round as she was tall if she didn’t get herself sorted.

They had all begun on their soup when the sound of a key in the lock of the front door caused them to pause. The next moment measured footsteps crossed the hall and then Rafe appeared in the doorway, tall and bronzed and smiling quietly. ‘This looks very cosy,’ he said evenly. ‘Room for one more at the table?’

‘Of course.’ Crystal jumped up and for a few moments all was bustle and questions and answers as to why he was two days early.

‘The Texas problem was sorted quicker than I’d envisaged,’ Rafe said shortly to his father, before turning to Marianne, who had had time to compose herself after the shock of seeing him so unexpectedly. ‘I hear you’ve been working with Dad in your role of therapist? That’s kind of you, Marianne. I appreciate it.’