Ruthless Tycoon, Innocent Wife

‘I know. And I’m not expecting you to believe me in one fell swoop.’

‘But how could you change so radically?’

It was the same question he had asked himself in the early hours when he had sat by his bedroom window looking out over his father’s dark garden. And when the answer had come it had been that which had suddenly made everything so clear. ‘You didn’t answer me when I asked you if you would spend some time with me,’ he urged her gently.

Marianne hesitated. Everything in her wanted to say yes but she was terrified, too. He had been so sure of what he wanted and what he didn’t want. This man, if he did but know it, held her heart in the palm of his hand and she wasn’t sure if he would throw it away when—if—he tired of her. She stared at him. Yesterday she would have been sure it would be a case of when he tired of her but something had changed. Now there was an if there, too. It was a faint hope but could she ignore it? Aware that she could be opening herself up for heartache on a scale she’d never known before, she said, ‘Yes.’

She hadn’t realised how tensely he had been holding himself until he relaxed, and then he smiled. ‘Good.’

His hand was gentle under her chin as he lifted her mouth to his and immediately her lips opened at his probing. The fire which was just waiting to ignite every time they touched blazed into being and he moved his body slightly, pressing her against the worktop so he could feel every soft curve, every contour.

Her hands slid up around his neck as she returned the need to be close, their bodies a mutual aphrodisiac that was more potent than any man-made brew.

‘You’re beautiful, inside and out,’ he murmured throatily. ‘Warm, soft, intoxicating. For weeks I haven’t been able to sleep properly for thoughts of you in my arms.’ He moved his hands over her body and she felt her nipples tighten under his light touch, their tips straining against the thin material of her top. ‘I want to eat you alive, do you know that? Devour you. Fill your body and your mind until there is only me in your world.’

She trembled; she couldn’t help it. Last night she had thought things were over for good and now…A soft warmth was spreading deep within her body as his hands and mouth worked their magic. His hard muscular frame, the sexy smell of his aftershave, the words he was muttering against her skin were taking her somewhere she had never been before. She felt as though she were one aching cell and if he didn’t relieve the pressure inside her she would die.

And then his mouth became slower, gentler, his hands settling round her waist and his body no longer pressed against hers. Drugged, she lifted heavy eyes to him to see what was wrong and saw him looking at her with an odd expression on his face. ‘We’re not going to rush this. It’s too important,’ he murmured hoarsely. ‘I want you to trust me—really trust me—and I have to earn that. I don’t want physical desire to cloud the issue and make you do something you’ll regret. Or at least be unsure about. You’re not the kind of woman who can give herself without it meaning more than—’ He shook his head as though he didn’t know how to continue.

Marianne pulled away slightly. Rafe had told her he’d indulged in an active sex life since his divorce and this was clearly a first for him. With her body burning and her head swimming with the impassioned words he had muttered, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. In the event she did neither. Controlling the urge to fling herself on him and ask him to take her right there, on the kitchen floor, she said, ‘You’re a very surprising man. Do you know that?’ aiming to keep her voice from trembling. Miraculously it didn’t.

She was rewarded by his smile. It was rueful and yet carried something that made her toes curl. ‘Is that good?’

Before his apparent change of heart, he had been dangerous. Now her senses were telling her he was lethal. Heeding the inner voice, Marianne took her cue from Rafe. ‘Possibly,’ she said with a lightness she was proud of in the circumstances. ‘Now, shall I show you over the house before the builders arrive and you can see how far we’ve got? The bedrooms which needed an en suite bathroom have been completed but everything, including the others, needs decorating before we recarpet and change the furnishings and fixings, of course. It makes sense to leave all the house and have it done together. The new kitchen’s coming along OK but we’ve decided to leave the walkway and the new build for the flat for now and concentrate on this side of the house, getting this room converted and then building the extension for the two disabled suites.’

‘Fine.’ He drained his coffee, his eyes never leaving her face.

‘Rafe.’ She hesitated but she had to ask. ‘Exactly how long do you plan to be around?’

His jaw flexed. ‘Exactly? I’m not sure. I’ve got a good guy in the States who’ll take care of things up to a point but it’s asking for trouble to take my eye off the ball for too long. Ours may have to be a transatlantic relationship some of the time.’

Marianne nodded. That wasn’t a problem. The problem was that the enormity of the step she was taking was beginning to dawn. He hadn’t made any promises, any guarantees. When she had asked him what had changed his mind so fundamentally he’d evaded the issue. She believed him absolutely when he said he was rethinking his life but that still didn’t mean he would fall in love with her and, even if he did, if he would want her for ever.

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But she wanted to take the chance. The blue gaze was on her and she took a deep breath. ‘I can do transatlantic,’ she said steadily, ‘as long as the time is weighted on this side of the ocean.’

‘It will be.’ His voice was quiet and intense. ‘Believe me, it will be.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE next month was the most deliriously happy of Marianne’s life, in spite of all the hard work during the day at Seacrest. Even that was enjoyable because Rafe arrived most mornings and stayed with her throughout the day before he went home to change to take her out in the evening.

They didn’t always go too far afield. Sometimes he arrived with a picnic Crystal had prepared and they took the basket down to the beach below the house where the waves rolled gently on the clean warm sand. They would walk and swim and explore the rock pools before eating, then stretch out under the dying sun and relax. At twilight they often had the beach all to themselves and that was when they began to talk, or at least when Rafe did. Marianne found he could express himself better when the shadows of night mellowed the bright light of daylight hours, and the sunsets were glorious. She heard about his childhood, which had been very happy on the whole although he hadn’t seen much of his father, who had been building the business up and working long hours and weekends. For that reason he had been close to his mother and very protective, that much Marianne came to understand and it explained a lot. He told her the bitter truth concerning his marriage and divorce and the life he had led since, some of which she found hard to hear. Occasionally she asked questions but mostly she let him talk and slowly she built up a picture of the complicated enigma that was Rafe.

They went to antique markets most Sundays before Rafe took her out to lunch, wandering among the stalls and lingering over the odd item that caught their eye. On one excursion Rafe bought her an exquisite little pearl and silver brooch set in the shape of a small hoop, each tiny seed pearl a flower with intricately worked silver leaves around it.

It was a relaxing, idyllic time and the weather continued to hold, one hot summer’s day following another. The sun tanned Marianne’s skin and highlighted her hair until it was more silver-blond than golden, emphasising her dark eyes and giving her elfin loveliness a fragility that made her look far younger than her twenty-seven years. Her days and nights were so filled with Rafe it seemed impossible he hadn’t always been there, his heated kisses and lovemaking introducing her to a sensual world she realised she’d had little experience of before.

But he always stopped before things went too far. Whether they were alone at Seacrest or on the beach, he never allowed himself to lose control. And she didn’t know how she felt about that.

Marianne was standing in her bedroom looking out of the window into a balmy summer’s night after a wonderful evening at the restaurant they had first gone to with Crystal and Andrew. The meal had been delicious but it had been the hours on the dance floor she had liked best, held close in Rafe’s arms for most of the time, breathing in the smell and feel of him and noticing the envious glances from some of the other female diners.

She frowned. Some of those women had been very beautiful and she fancied more than one would have been happy to ditch the man they were with if Rafe had lifted a little finger. Which brought her back yet again to the question which had been nagging at her for the last few days. What on earth was Rafe doing with her when he only had to raise an eyebrow to get anyone? And why, if he wanted to be with her, hadn’t he taken their lovemaking to its natural conclusion?

In her relationships before him, it had always been her who had put on the brake when things got too steamy. She had been close to going all the way several times but it had never seemed quite right; she had never imagined herself with the man in question forever. And somehow, with the example of her parents’ blissful marriage in front of her, she had wanted forever when she gave herself. Most of her friends had laughed their heads off when they’d discussed their love lives and she had admitted how she felt, but it hadn’t persuaded her to go against what she felt. Just the opposite, in fact. And now she had met the man who was her forever and there was certainly no question of having to fight him off, which was pretty ironic when you thought about it.

He had said they needed time to get to know each other. She bit on her bottom lip, worrying it with her teeth. But in the last month they had been together nearly every day and certainly every night. They had packed months and months into a few weeks and discussed everything under the sun. How much getting to know each other did he want? And what was lacking in her that she couldn’t inflame him to a point where he lost control? Where the decision to go further would be up to her at least?