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

‘What are you doing?’ she cried, aghast.

‘Taking off my clothes. Perhaps you’d like to do the same?’

‘No, I wouldn’t.’

‘Well, I could take them off for you,’ he suggested. ‘On the other hand, I haven’t made love fully clothed since I was an impetuous teenager, so it might be something of a novelty.’

‘I don’t want you to make love to me,’ she cried in a strangled voice. ‘I don’t want you to touch me.’

‘So you said. But if you really don’t want that, then you’ll tell me why you’re so intent on leaving.’ When she stayed mute, with a suddenness that took her completely by surprise, he pulled her close and, neatly hooking her feet from beneath her, followed her down, his arms breaking her fall.

Flat on her back on the thick-pile carpet, she made an attempt to struggle free but, catching her wrists, he pinned them over her head.

His shirt was open and, looking up at his broad chest, the strong column of his neck, the tender hollow at the base, she felt her stomach clench.

As calmly as possible, she said, ‘Let me go.’

By way of answer, he put his lips to the pulse fluttering wildly in her throat.

Thickly, she insisted, ‘If you don’t let me go this instant I’ll scream.’

His smile maddeningly cool, he said, ‘Do you think I’d allow you to? In any case, there’s no one to hear you. All the household servants are at chapel.’

He brought her wrists together and, holding them in one hand, used the other to unfasten the buttons of her blouse.

Then, flicking it open, he ran a fingertip beneath the edge of her low-cut bra and heard her breathing quicken even more. His finger delved a little deeper and he watched with satisfaction as her nipples firmed visibly beneath the delicate material.

Still she held out and he bent his head.

Feeling the heat and dampness of his mouth through the satin and lace, she began to shudder. ‘Don’t,’ she whispered in desperation. ‘Don’t…’

‘Why not? You liked it last night.’

‘That was before…’

‘Before what?’

She threw in the towel. ‘Before I knew you were planning to get married.’

‘Ah,’ he said softly, ‘so that’s it.’ Then, quick as a rattlesnake striking, ‘How do you know I’m planning to get married?’

‘Hannah mentioned it.’

He relaxed a little. ‘When did you see Hannah?’

‘I met her as I was coming downstairs. She was on her way to the chapel.’

‘I see. So that’s what all the fuss is about.’

‘If you’re going to try and tell me it isn’t true—’

‘I’ve no intention of telling you any such thing.’

‘Oh…’ Perhaps even now she had been treasuring some faint hope that Hannah had got it wrong.

Irony in his voice, he asked, ‘As you know I’m getting married, perhaps you also know who my bride-to-be is?’

‘Yes, I do. It’s Helen O’Connell.’

He raised a dark brow. ‘What makes you presume that? It’s not just because she came here, surely?’

‘It’s what I understood from Hannah.’

Frowning, he suggested, ‘Perhaps you’d better tell me word for word exactly what Hannah said.’

As near as she could remember, Tina repeated what the housekeeper had told her, adding with unconscious bitterness, ‘I gather she’s delighted.’

‘But you’re not?’

‘As far as I’m concerned, Miss O’Connell is more than welcome to you.’

‘Jealous?’

‘No, I’m not.’

‘Tell me,’ he said, his face sardonic, ‘if you’re not jealous, why are you so angry about it?’

Made furious by his cavalier attitude, she cried, ‘Because you’re a brute and a beast and an unfeeling devil! How could you bring me here like this? What would your fiancée think if she found out?’

‘Do I take it you’re planning to tell her?’ he asked mockingly.

‘No, I’m not. The only thing I’m planning is to go and never get within a mile of you again.’

He shook his head regretfully. ‘In that case I’m afraid our schedules don’t match. You see I have no intention of letting you go and every intention of keeping you close by my side.’

Bending his head, he kissed her.

The casual arrogance of that kiss was the last straw and she began to struggle furiously, writhing and kicking, fighting to free her hands.

She was young and fit and, despite her slender build, strong.

But he was so much stronger.

Holding her down with the weight of his body, he ordered, ‘Lie still or you’ll hurt yourself.’

When, from sheer exhaustion, she was forced to obey, he said quietly, ‘That’s better.’

‘Oh, please, Richard,’ she begged raggedly, ‘let me get up.’