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

Perhaps he realised how close to tears she was, because without further ado he released her wrists and his weight lifted from her.

Having helped her up, he rebuttoned her blouse before pushing her gently into the nearest chair. Then, having fastened his own shirt and tucked it into the waistband of his trousers, he stood looking down at her.

All trace of mockery gone now, he said, ‘I want you to listen to me. You’re right in thinking that I’m hoping to be married…’

Fool that she was, she had still half hoped that he might deny it.

‘However, you’re quite wrong in believing that the lady in question is Helen O’Connell…’

‘Oh…’ Tina said in a small voice.

‘At one time Hannah may have had hopes in that direction but, when she mentioned the Reverend Peter getting his wish, you were mistaken in thinking she was referring to Helen.’

Feeling foolish, Tina stared blindly down at her hands clasped together in her lap.

When she said nothing, he went on evenly, ‘Because Hannah’s been part of the family for so long, I told her my plans…Though I must admit I hadn’t expected her to say anything until I’d had a chance to discuss those plans with the woman I’m hoping to marry.’

When Tina continued to sit in silence, head bent, the mockery back in his voice, he suggested, ‘Now aren’t you going to ask me who that woman is?’

She shook her head. It didn’t really matter who it was. The mere fact that he had found a woman he wanted to marry had turned her own short-lived happiness into dust and ashes.

‘Does that mean you’re not interested, or you feel reluctant to ask?’

Apart from saying that his intentions were in no way casual, he’d made no commitment, had promised her nothing, so what right had she to ask?

‘Well?’ he pressed.

‘I feel I’ve no right to ask,’ she admitted dully.

A hand beneath her chin, he lifted her face and said firmly, ‘After the way I’ve treated you, you’ve every right to ask.’

Her breath taken away, she gazed up at him mutely as he went on, ‘I got you to come here by offering you a job. A job you turned down on the grounds that, because we’d been to bed together, you would find it awkward to work for me.

‘That shows a rare sensitivity in this day and age, when a lot of women wouldn’t have given it a second thought or would have regarded a sexual interest as a plus.

‘Well, now I’m offering you a different kind of job, a job where a sexual interest is not only a plus but absolutely vital…’

When, her blue-violet eyes wide, she continued to stare up at him, he said, ‘I want you to be my wife.’

‘What?’ she whispered, unable to believe her ears.

‘I want you to be my wife,’ he repeated. ‘Or, as Marlowe put it, “Come live with me and be my love…”

‘It’s sudden, I admit,’ he added quizzically, ‘but there’s no need to look quite so taken aback. After all, I did make it plain that my interest was far from casual…’

‘Yes, I know, but I…I never thought…I never dreamt…’ Wanting to believe it, but afraid to, needing desperately to be reassured that this wasn’t some kind of cruel joke, she asked huskily, ‘Do you really want to marry me?’

‘Yes,’ he answered, a touch of amusement in his voice, ‘I really do.’

When, still struggling to take it in, she said nothing, he offered teasingly, ‘Would you like me to say it again?’

‘I—I’m sorry, but I just find it hard to believe,’ she admitted.

‘But my proposal isn’t unwelcome, I hope?’ A finger tracing the curve of her cheek, he asked with apparent irrelevance, ‘When we saw the evening star and both made a wish, what did you wish for?’

Seeing her colour rise, he smiled, as if that was answer enough, and told her softly, ‘You are what I wished for.’ Bending his head, he kissed her lips. A light coaxing kiss. ‘All you have to do is marry me to make my wish come true.

‘I would have waited a little and proposed to you in a more romantic setting,’ he added seriously, ‘if Hannah hadn’t let the cat out of the bag.

‘However,’ he went on after a moment, ‘I hope the setting won’t make any difference to your answer?’

The setting wasn’t important, Tina thought, winging her way up to cloud nine—Richard loved her and wanted to marry her; that was all that mattered.

She would have been content with his love—more than content, deliriously happy. The fact that he wanted to make her his wife was more than she had ever dared to hope for and her heart swelled with joy and gratitude.

Watching her glowing face, he was almost sure that he’d pulled it off. But he needed to hear her say it out loud.

When she continued to sit as though in a trance, her eyes soft and full of dreams, growing impatient, he took her shoulders and, lifting her to her feet, urged, ‘I’m still waiting for an answer. Will you marry me?’

She gave him the most glorious smile and answered simply, ‘Yes.’

That smile made him feel despicable and, for a split second, in spite of everything, he wondered if he was doing the right thing.

But he couldn’t afford to weaken now.

Shrugging off the feeling, he hardened his heart.

Though it was over in an instant, she picked up that fleeting doubt. ‘But perhaps we should have time to think it over?’

He frowned. ‘Do you need time?’

She shook her head. ‘No, not really. But I thought you might.’

‘I don’t need time to think it over. I know exactly what I’m doing.’

‘But you don’t really know enough about me.’

‘I know everything I need to know.’

Though he sounded certain, a lingering unease made her ask, ‘On the drive here you talked about your wife and children living at Anders…Suppose I dislike children and don’t want any…?’

‘Do you dislike children?’

‘No, of course I don’t. I don’t think a marriage is complete without children, but—’

His mouth covered hers, stopping the words, before he said, ‘Then I know everything I need to know.’

‘How can you be so sure when we only met a couple of days ago?’