Tycoon's Choice: Kept by the Tycoon / Taken by the Tycoon / The Tycoon's Proposal

‘An ex-lover?’

‘A friend.’

Rafe replaced the photograph with care, and turned to gaze at her.

She had expected him to skip over the preliminaries and hurry her into bed, but with no suggestion of haste he said softly, ‘I want to look at you. Take off your clothes for me.’

As though under a spell, she began to take off her suit and blouse. But modesty once ingrained was hard to dislodge, and, aware as she was of his appreciative gaze, the lick of flame in his eyes, her cheeks were hot as she stripped off her panties.

When she straightened and stood before him naked, he made a half-smothered sound deep in his throat, a very male sound, and without taking his eyes off her for an instant began to divest himself of his own shoes and clothing.

As she watched him discard his dark silk boxer shorts, it was her turn to smother the gasp that rose in her throat. Too turned on to move, she swallowed hard, her stomach tightening with anticipation.

‘Come here,’ he said.

When she obeyed, he lifted her onto the bed and stretched out beside her. Then, propping himself on one elbow, he leaned over her and, his hand fondling her breast, he said softly, ‘You’re exquisite. The loveliest thing I’ve ever seen.’

Colin had been an unexciting lover, with a low sex drive and little skill. Not only had he preferred to make love in the dark, but also he had never told her she was beautiful, nor had he caressed her in that way.

Rather, he had avoided touching her, as though he found the idea of enjoying sex something to be slightly ashamed of.

Rafe obviously had no such inhibitions.

Inhaling the fragrance of her skin, he murmured, ‘You smell as fresh and delightful as apple blossom,’ before his mouth began to roam over her.

She shivered deliciously as his unshaven jaw rasped against the smooth skin of her flat stomach.

When he had kissed and tasted every inch of her golden flesh, his mouth returned to pleasure her breasts while his fingers found the nest of pale, silky curls and began to explore further. Shivering, she gave herself up to the sensations those skilful fingers were engendering.

It wasn’t long, however, before the exquisite torment grew too much to bear and she writhed under the lash of pleasure while desire rode her, digging in its spurs so that she began to make little whimpering sounds deep in her throat.

He paused, then, drawing her back against him, spoonfashion, he eased her hips towards him before returning his hands to her breasts.

Just at first he was careful, as though gauging her reaction. Then he began to thrust more strongly, building a tension that spiralled and grew until the sensations, almost too great to be borne, peaked, and stars exploded inside her head.

Hearing her little gasping cries with pleasure, he held her there, drawing out the moment, until he too was caught up in the surging excitement.

For a while they lay together quietly while their heart rates and breathing returned to normal. Then he drew away, and, turning her to face him, gathered her close and kissed her tenderly.

Knowing she’d been married, he had been somewhat thrown, partly by her obvious shyness, and partly by her instinctive reaction to their lovemaking. Her obvious pleasure had been followed by what he could have sworn was gratitude. Frowning, he wondered if her husband had been clumsy and lacking skill, or simply uncaring.

Seeing that frown, she asked a shade anxiously, ‘I hope you weren’t disappointed?’

‘Anything but,’ he assured her.

Then, picking up her very real concern, he kissed her and, leaning his forehead against hers, told her with soft emphasis, ‘You’re very special, and I’m immensely flattered that you let me into your bed.’

Feeling her relax, with a little sigh of relief he settled her head on his shoulder. She felt limp as arag doll. The power and intensity of his lovemaking had left her exhausted, totally drained, yet at the same time full of bliss, brimming with rapture.

Never for a moment had she imagined love could be like this—and yes, it was love—never imagined that this strength of feeling could take root and blossom so quickly. It wasn’t just the result of sexual deprivation, nor was it simply the chemistry between them. This was different. This was more. Much more.

They seemed to meet on every level, physical, mental and emotional. And as she slid into sleep she found herself thinking that if she searched the world over she would never find a man who was more right for her.

The same thought was in her mind when she stirred and surfaced slowly, her body relaxed and satisfied, a quiet happiness singing through her.

She was in love, truly in love, for the very first time. It was a big risk, letting herself fall so hard and so fast for a man she had only just met.

But she couldn’t say she hadn’t known what she was doing. Well aware that she was vulnerable, well aware that she was teetering on the brink of falling for him, well aware that making love with him could easily push her over, she had walked into it with her eyes wide open.

And it had been wonderful beyond words. She had never felt so utterly content. Not even her guilt over Colin could spoil things, or alter the way she felt about Rafe.

Sighing, she stretched out a hand to touch him, but she was alone. Jolted wide awake, she opened her eyes to find he was standing by the bed fully dressed, a cup of tea in his hand.

‘I’m sorry to wake you, but I thought it best if I left early.’

He set the cup on the bedside cabinet and smiled down at her. The blind was still closed, but even in the half-light his thickly lashed green eyes were brilliant, and with his hair a little rumpled, a dark stubble adorning his jaw, he looked irresistibly virile and attractive.

Her heart doing strange things, she pushed herself into a sitting position.

‘What I’d really like to do,’ he went on, ‘is stay and make love to you until such a time as the sight of a strange man leaving your flat wouldn’t raise a single eyebrow…’

Just his words made her go hot all over and sent a surge of desire running through her.

‘But bearing in mind what you said about having a lot to do, I’m restraining the urge…’

Disappointment pricked sharp as a thorn.

‘I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.’

He stooped and kissed her, a lingering kiss, as if he couldn’t bear to leave her. She was on the verge of begging him to stay when he straightened and strode to the door.

An instant later he was gone.

For a moment or two she felt empty and lost—bereft—as if the whole thing had been nothing but a wonderful dream. But the cup of tea sitting by her elbow was tangible proof, not only that he was no dream, but also that he’d cared enough to think about her. Gladness returning, she reached for the cup and took a sip. Only the day to get through and she would be seeing him again.

Excitement and anticipation buoying her up, the morning passed quite quickly, and even her afternoon visit to the nursing home didn’t seem quite so fraught as usual. For the first time in what seemed an age, happiness was crowding out guilt. Or at least masking it.

By a quarter past seven that evening, showered, dressed and lightly made-up, Madeleine was ready and waiting. Standing by the window, she watched as a silver Porsche drew up by the kerb promptly at seven-thirty, and Rafe jumped out. He looked breathtakingly handsome in well-cut evening clothes, and she wondered if she was underdressed for Annabel’s.

Taking deep breaths to calm herself, she let him ring the bell before picking up her evening purse and going to open the door.

He smiled at her. ‘Ready?’

Madeleine nodded. ‘Will I do?’ she asked a shade anxiously.

His glance swept over her from head to toe.

She was wearing a simple black dress that clung lovingly to her slender curves and set off her flawless, pale gold skin. Her blonde hair was taken up in a gleaming coil that served to emphasise her pure bone structure, and in her neat lobes were small gold hoops.