In the Millionaire's Possession (25 page)

BOOK: In the Millionaire's Possession
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Alan Graham might still be aloof, but he knew his job, and his labour force were craftsmen who loved their work. No expense was being spared, either. Marc was clearly pouring a fortune into the project.

And that, as she kept reminding herself, was all that really mattered. She would deal with everything else when she had to.

She watched almost with disbelief as the State Bedroom was beautifully restored to its seventeenth-century origins, and, discreetly hidden behind a door, a dressing room and a glamorous twenty-first-century bathroom were created out of the adjoining room, all white and silver tiles, with a state-of-the-art shower stall and a deep sunken bathtub. Big enough for two, she noted, swallowing.

Members of the village embroidery group were already stitching the designs from the original hangings on to the pale gold fabric she

d chosen for the bed and windows, and had also promised a fitted bedcover to match.

Without the dark and tatty wallpaper, and with the lovely ceiling mouldings repaired and cleaned, and the walls painted, the huge bedroom looked incredibly light and airy, she thought. Under other circumstances it could even have been a room for happiness…

She stopped, biting her lip. Don

t even go there, she told herself tersely. Happiness is a non-word.

Particularly when there had still been no contact from Marc. Clearly he was enjoying himself too much in America to bother about a reluctant bride-to-be in England.

But on the following Wednesday, while she was standing outside watching, fascinated, as the new roof went on, she heard the sound of an approaching vehicle.

She didn

t look round because there always seemed to be cars and vans coming and going, until she suddenly heard Marc

s voice behind her, quietly calling her name.

She turned sharply, incredulously, and saw him a few feet away, casual in pale grey pants and a dark shirt. He held out his arms in silent command and she went to him, slowly and uncertainly, her eyes searching the enigmatic dark face, joltingly aware of the scorch of hunger in his gaze.

As she reached him he lifted her clear off the ground, and held her tightly against him in his embrace. She felt her body tremble at the pressure of his

at the pang of unwilling yearning that pierced her. Her throat was tightening too, in swift, uncontrollable excitement.

All those lonely nights, she thought suddenly, shakily, when she

d been able to think of nothing else but his touch

and, dear God, his kisses… All those restless, disturbing dreams that she was ashamed to remember.

Suddenly she wanted to wind herself around him, her arms twined about his neck, her slim legs gripping his lean hips. And realised, swiftly and starkly, the danger she was in.

As Marc

s mouth sought hers she turned her head swiftly, so that his lips grazed only her cheek.


Marc.

She tried to free herself, forcing a laugh.

People are watching.

He looked down into her face, his mouth hardening.

Then that is easily remedied,

he told her softly. He lifted her effortlessly into his arms and began to carry her towards the house.

Colour stormed her face as she heard faint whistles and laughing applause from the workmen, but common sense warned her that to struggle would only make her look even more ridiculous.

Once inside, she expected to be put on her feet, but Marc carried her straight up the main staircase and along to the State Bedroom.

She said breathlessly,

What the hell are you doing? Let me down at once.


À votre service
,
mademoiselle
.

His voice was cold, almost grim, as he strode across the room to the bed. Gasping, Helen found herself carelessly dropped in the middle of the wide bare mattress.

She fought herself into a sitting position, glaring at him as he stood over her, hands on hips.

How dare you treat me like this? If you imagine I

m impressed by these

caveman tactics

then think again.


I should not say too much,

he told her with ominous quietness.

It is nothing to what I would like to do to you. And will,

he added harshly,

if you refuse my kisses again, in public or in private, no matter what grudge you may be harbouring.

She bit her lip, avoiding the starkness of his dark gaze.

You

you took me by surprise. I wasn

t expecting to see you.


Évidemment
,

he said caustically.

Is that why you are not wearing my ring?

Of course he would have to notice that!


I

m living on a building site,

Helen returned a touch defensively.

I didn

t want it to get lost or damaged.

He gave her a sceptical glance.

Or did it remind you too much of how soon you will be my wife?

She bit her lip.

What do you expect

eager anticipation?


No,

he said softly.

But if not a welcome

a little cooperation, perhaps?

Before she could move she felt his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back on to the mattress again. Then, lifting himself lithely on to the bed beside her, he pulled her close, and his lips began to explore her mouth with cool, almost languorous pleasure.

Taking, she realised, all the time in the world.

Her hands came up against his chest, trying to maintain at least some distance between them, but that was all the resistance she dared attempt. His warning still rang in her mind, and she knew she could not afford to provoke him again. She would have been wiser to offer him her lips in front of everyone just now rather than risk this.

She was too vulnerable, she thought, shut away with him here in this room they

d soon be sharing. And, because they were known to be together, no one would be tactless enough to come looking for them. No one…

The midday sun was pouring in through the high windows, lapping them in heated gold.

She seemed to be sinking helplessly, endlessly, down into the softness of the bed, her lips parting in spite of herself to answer the sensuous pressure of his mouth, to yield to the silken invasion of his tongue.

Inside her thin shirt, her breasts were suddenly blossoming in greedy delight as his kiss deepened in intensity. Her hardening nipples seemed tormented by the graze of the lacy fabric that enclosed them, aching to be free of its constriction.

As if she

d moaned her yearning aloud, she felt his hand begin gently to unfasten the buttons on her shirt.

She lay still, scarcely breathing, the sunlight beating on her closed eyelids, her pulses frantic, waiting

waiting…

Marc was kissing her forehead, brushing the soft hair away from her temples with his lips, discovering the delicate cavity of her ear with his tongue, then feathering caresses down her arched throat to the scented hollow at its base, where he lingered.

His fingers slid inside the open neck of her shirt, pushing it and the thin strap beneath away from her shoulder.

Then he bent his head, and she experienced for the first time the delicious shock of a man

s lips brushing the naked swell of her breast above the concealing lace of her bra, and knew that she wanted more

so much more that it scared her.

She made a small sound, half-gasp, half-sob. For a moment he was very still, then suddenly, unbelievably, she felt him lift himself away from her.

When she had the power to open her dazed eyes she saw that he was standing beside the bed, almost briskly tucking his own shirt back into the waistband of his pants.


Je suis désolé
,

he said.

But I have arranged to see Alain for his progress report, and I am already late.

Helen felt as if she

d been hit by a jet of freezing water. She scrambled up on to her knees, feverishly cramming her shirt buttons back into their loops. Restoring herself to decency with a belated attempt at dignity.

Her voice shook a little.

I apologise if I

ve caused you any inconvenience.


Au contraire
,

he said, his smile glinting at her.

Tu es toute ravissante
.

Anger began to mingle with shock inside her as she met his gaze. The victor, she thought stormily, with his spoils. And she

d nearly

nearly

let him…

She should have been the one to draw back, not him, she realised with shame. Oh, God, how could she have been such a fool?

He paused, glancing at his watch.

But the report should not take long,

he went on softly, outrageously.

Perhaps you would like to wait here for my return?


No,

Helen said between her teeth.

I would not.

One of her shoes had fallen off, and she began to search for it with her bare foot.


Quel dommage
,

he commented.

I hoped you would show me round the rest of the house. Let me know what you think of the work that has been done so far and of any changes you would like to make.


I

m sorry,

Helen said icily,

but we no longer provide guided tours. And the only change I want is never to see you again.

He had the gall to grin at her.

How fickle you are,
cherie
. When only a moment ago…

He shrugged and gave an exaggerated sigh.


But your mention of tours has reminded me,

he added more slowly.

As I drove here I met Madame Lowell in the village. She asked if you had told me of her husband

s offer to bless our marriage. I said you had not been able to contact me, but that it was a great kindness of Révérend Lowell, which we would be delighted to accept.


You said
what
?

Helen abandoned the hunt for her shoe and stared at him, bright spots of colour flaring in her pale face.

How could you do that? How could you? The Lowells are a sweet couple, and they really believe in marriage. Genuine marriage, that is,

she added, her voice stinging.

It

s sheer hypocrisy to involve them in our

sordid little bargain.

His mouth tightened. He said harshly, all trace of amusement fled,

Perhaps,
ma mie
, I feel that in spite of what has taken place between us here our

bargain needs all the help it can get.

He took her by the shoulders, jerking her off the edge of the bed towards him, and his mouth was hard on hers in a kiss which bore no relation to his earlier tenderness.

It was, Helen thought, her mind reeling, almost a punishment.

When he released her, his eyes were glittering as they studied her startled face. Her hand went up mechanically to cover her tingling lips.

He said,

So, understand this, Hélène: our marriage will be as genuine as anyone could wish

in all the ways that matter.

His voice was ice.

On that,
ma belle
, you have my solemn word.

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