Taming the Rebel Tycoon: Wife by Approval / Dating the Rebel Tycoon / The Playboy Takes a Wife

‘Then, as great-grandfather knew, it’s always been my intention to take my wife and family and live at Anders on a permanent basis.’

Tina felt a queer tug at her heartstrings to think that some lucky woman was destined to be everything to him—his friend and confidante, his lover and his wife, the mother of his children.

Trying to push the poignant thought aside, she relapsed into silence and stared out at the scenery. Without being particularly dramatic, the countryside was pleasantly picturesque and rolling.

The woods were decked in bronze and gold and russet, the newly washed meadows were green and lush and the silver flash of water told of quiet streams and rivers.

As they breasted a rise to see a pleasing panorama spread out below them, Richard broke the silence to say, ‘A mile or so ahead, there’s a nice old coaching inn called the Posthorn. I thought we might stop there. The place has character and the food’s good.’

She nodded agreement. ‘That sounds lovely.’

The Posthorn was a black and white half-timbered place with tubs of trailing scarlet geraniums adding a vivid splash of colour.

Richard drove through an archway into a cobbled yard and parked outside what had obviously once been stabling and now appeared to be a small brewery.

‘As you can see, they brew their own ale here,’ he remarked, ‘and it’s excellent.’

They went in through a back door and into a panelled lounge, where the windows were open to the balmy air and sunshine streamed in.

In the huge fireplace the grate was screened by a large jar filled with beech and autumn foliage and the polished furniture smelt of apples and honey.

Having settled her in a seat by a window, he handed her a menu and asked, ‘What do you fancy to eat?’

‘I’m not particularly hungry after such a good breakfast…’ she began and, recalling the intimacy of that breakfast, felt her cheeks grow hot.

Seeing the gleam of amusement in his eyes and knowing he’d guessed the cause of her confusion, she found herself blushing even harder.

His face straight, he suggested, ‘Then perhaps just a sandwich?’

Not knowing where to look, she bent her head over the menu and studied it with unnecessary care.

Oh, why was she acting like an overgrown schoolgirl? she wondered crossly. Where had yesterday’s cool, self-contained young woman gone?

But, after all that had happened last night and this morning…She pushed away the uncomfortable thought, determined not to go along that route, and dragged her mind back to the present.

There was an extensive range of light snacks and, by the time a cheerful buxom woman came to take their order, Tina had decided on home-cooked ham in a piece of French stick and a side salad.

Richard followed suit.

‘And to drink?’ he queried. Adding, ‘They have a good wine cellar here.’

‘I was thinking of trying half a pint of ale.’

Looking surprised, he said, ‘A good choice. I’ll have the same.’

Their ale came almost at once and, when she had sampled it and agreed that it was some of the best she’d ever tasted, he said, ‘Tell me a bit about yourself. Are you London born and bred?’

‘No. I was born and brought up in a small village. I only went to live in London when I started to work for Cartel Wines.’

‘So which do you prefer? Town or country?’

She smiled wistfully. ‘I quite like London but I’d much sooner live in the country.’

‘Have you any brothers or sisters?’

‘I’ve a stepsister, Didi. My mother died when I was seven and a year later my father married a widow with a daughter of almost the same age.’

‘Did you get on well?’

‘Not too well,’ Tina admitted. ‘Despite the fact that we were born in the same month and within three days of each other, we were completely different both in character and temperament.’

‘Does your stepsister still live in the country?’

Tina shook her head. ‘No. Didi left home and got a job in London when she was seventeen.’

‘What about your parents?’

‘A couple of years ago a relative left my father a hotel in Melbourne and they decided to give up their house and go to live in Australia.

‘Before they went, they asked me to keep an eye on Didi—she’d been ill and was having problems.

‘By that time I was working for Cartel Wines and renting a two-bedroomed flat, so when I found she couldn’t pay the rent for her crummy bedsit and was about to be thrown out, I persuaded her to move in with me.’

Frowning, he asked, ‘But she doesn’t still live with you?’

‘Oh, no. She moved out when she was offered a place at the Ramon Bonaventure School of Drama.’

‘She wants to be an actress?’

‘Yes. Though her mother had been very much against it, it was something Didi had always hoped to do…’

Tina stopped speaking as their lunch arrived, accompanied by various jars of homemade chutney, all with frilled muslin covers.

‘I can thoroughly recommend the mango,’ Richard told her.

‘Mmm,’ Tina agreed when she’d tried some. ‘It’s absolutely delicious.’

‘I thought you’d like it. It’s almost as good as Hannah makes.’

‘Hannah?’

‘Our old cook/housekeeper at the castle. Her family have been retainers there for donkey’s years. Though Hannah’s semiretired, she still rules the staff with a rod of iron.

‘She was born there and stayed on when she married one of the estate workers. Mullins, her son, is a general manservant who takes care of just about everything, including the cars, and her youngest granddaughter, Milly, is a maid.’

For a while they ate without speaking and, though Tina strove to appear relaxed and easy, she was aware of him—of his presence, his nearness, his every slight movement.

From beneath her thick lashes she watched him as he helped himself to more chutney and lifted his glass to drink. He had strong, well-shaped hands with lean fingers and neatly trimmed nails.