Ruthless Tycoon, Innocent Wife

‘Us? You thought I wanted out?’ he said with absolute incredulity. ‘What do you think the last month has been about? I’ve laid myself bare. I’ve never talked to anyone like I’ve talked to you.’

‘But you never said you loved me.’

‘I didn’t want to pressure you, not after everything that happened at first. You needed to be able to see the real me, to know if you could love the real me. Since Fiona it’s all been superficial. I was playing a game, Marianne. Being what the woman in question wanted.’

So he couldn’t get hurt again. A sob burst from her throat. ‘I’ve loved you all my life,’ she whispered. ‘Before I knew you I loved you and I could never stop now I’ve met you, whatever happened.’

He bent his head and brushed his mouth slowly over hers. ‘Will you marry me?’ he murmured thickly. ‘Will you be my wife and the mother of my children?’

Her grip on him tightened and she gazed up into the blue eyes that held her heart. ‘Yes,’ she said. And when he kissed her again the world stopped spinning.

It was much later, when they had loved and talked and loved some more, that Marianne led him through to the kitchen to fix him something to eat, after he admitted he hadn’t had a meal for the last twenty-four hours. ‘I just wanted to get home to you,’ he said softly, ‘and I knew something was wrong.’

He sat on a breakfast stool and drank red wine while she grilled a steak, and it was only after he had eaten and some of the strain had cleared from his face that Marianne said, ‘Why did you ask the builders to stop work, Rafe? I still don’t understand.’

He drew her to her feet, wrapping her in his arms. ‘This house is more to you than bricks and mortar,’ he said softly. ‘I understand that. And, as it stands now, all the changes have just made it better for family life and having friends to stay. I don’t want it to become a

hotel, Marianne.’

She stared at him. They hadn’t discussed where they would live when they got married, there hadn’t been time, but with the chain of hotels and all, she had assumed it would be America. Tentatively, she said, ‘As a holiday home, you mean?’

‘Not unless you’d prefer it that way.’ He stroked her hair from her forehead, tracing a path down the side of her face with one finger. ‘I’ll have to talk to Dad, of course, and it would take some months to pull off, but I’m thinking of selling the business. We’re fifty-fifty, Dad and I, but I can’t see any objections from his quarter. He’s made it clear he sees his life here from now on.’

Marianne nodded. She hadn’t told Rafe about his father’s proposal to Crystal, feeling it was the older couple’s right to do it in their own way.

‘But would you want to do that?’ she said slowly. It would be a huge step for him to take.

‘A few months ago, if anyone told me I would be thinking of settling in England I would have told them they were crazy,’ he admitted softly. ‘Now it’s different. I’d like to buy a beach house in Malibu, though. I’ve got plenty of friends there and it would be a base when we visit my relatives. You’d like it, I promise. There are even those who say the Pacific rivals the Cornish sea,’ he teased.

‘Not you, I hope.’

‘Never me.’ He drew her into him, kissing her until she was breathless. ‘Would you like our children to grow up at Seacrest?’ he murmured against her mouth.

‘You know I would.’

‘Then that’s settled.’ He kissed her again. ‘I might even come out of the hotel trade altogether. When we have kids I want to spend time with them, be there, you know?’

Marianne nodded. Yes, she knew. Andrew was a lovely man and he would be a wonderful father-in-law and grandfather, but the amount of time he had put into his business when Rafe was growing up had taken its toll on their relationship.

‘Did I tell you I’m a qualified surveyor?’ He smiled at her surprise. ‘It seemed obvious in view of the hotel business when I was deciding what degree to take. And the beauty of it is, unlike some other professions, surveying knows no territorial bounds. I can practise my skills anywhere in the world. So don’t worry, I won’t become a couch potato when the business is sold.’

‘I wouldn’t mind if you do as long as it’s my couch you’re vegging on.’

He looked at her, all amusement gone. ‘Always,’ he said softly. ‘Always.’

They were married exactly six weeks later at the little parish church in the village which was decked out for the harvest festival service the next day. In view of her parents’ passing, Marianne had wanted a quiet ceremony with only Crystal and Andrew—who had tied the knot the week before at the local register office—and one or two very close friends present.

Rafe’s closest friend—a tall blond Texan complete with stirrup-heeled, silver-toed boots and an accent so thick you could cut it with a knife—flew over to be his best man, bringing his small attractive wife and three blond children with him. Tom Blackthorn gave Marianne away and Gillian and Crystal cried all through the service.

Although the wedding was small, it was perfect. Marianne looked beautiful in a simple full-length gown of white silk, her hair threaded with tiny violet orchids which were reflected in the small posy she carried. Rafe cried unashamedly as she walked down the aisle towards him on Tom’s arm.

Afterwards the little group went to the hotel overlooking the harbour for a wonderful evening meal in the small room Rafe had reserved, champagne flowing until the early hours. They had promised the rest of Rafe’s friends and relations in America they would hold a big party in the States when they came back from their month’s honeymoon in Bermuda, followed by another in England for Marianne’s friends once they were home.

But now it was two o’clock in the morning and they had just arrived home at Seacrest, where they were staying for two days before departing for Bermuda. A round harvest moon bathed the mellow old house in moonlight as they stood on the doorstep, the taxi departing. In the distance, on the beach below the cliffs, the sea murmured its timeless call and the autumnal air carried the scent of the last of the roses blooming on the trellis attached to the house.

It was a beautiful night. Life was beautiful. Rafe looked up into the black velvet sky studded with stars and then lifted Marianne into his arms to carry her across the threshold. He had waited for this woman longer than he had waited for any other and he was glad of it. She was special. Their life together was going to be special and he would work every day to make it so. From being alone, he had been given a priceless gift of a woman he did not deserve to share his life. There was the hope of children, grandchildren, but even if this did not happen Marianne would be enough for him. ‘Happy?’ he whispered, stepping into the shadowed hall.

She brought his mouth down to hers in answer, her fingers fierce as they tangled in his hair. It started a chain reaction neither of them wanted to stop.