Kathryn Ross - Tycoon's Choice - Kept by the Tycoon / Taken by the Tycoon / The Tycoon's Proposal

Sensing that unease, and wondering what was causing it, he decided to go slowly. ‘Do your parents still live in London?’

‘They got divorced when I was twelve.’

‘Presumably it was your father’s dedication to work that caused the break-up.’

‘Yes. Though my mother loved him passionately, eventually she got fed up with him never being there for us.’ Madeleine turned her head away from him.

‘Was it an amicable parting?’

‘As amicable as these things ever can be.’

Rafe probed further, ‘But you must have missed him?’

‘Yes, I did, and I don’t think my mother ever really got over it.’ She felt her eyes begin to water, but she smiled as she looked up at Rafe.

‘She didn’t marry again?’

‘No. I believe she still loves him. Certainly there was never anyone else.’

‘Do you still see him?’

Madeleine shook her head. ‘Some time after the divorce he remarried and went to live in Los Angeles. We haven’t had any contact for years.’

Then, wanting to escape from the spotlight, she said quickly, ‘Now it’s your turn to tell me something about yourself.’

His face straight, he replied, ‘There’s not a great deal to tell.’ He laughed and kissed her, before beginning, ‘I lost my father when I was twelve. A year after he died, my mother married again. Her new husband was an ex-army officer.’

‘Did you all get on as a family?’

‘Diane, who’s seven years older than me, was away at university, so that left just the three of us, and unfortunately my stepfather and I didn’t get along. I resented him taking my father’s place and showed it, which, with hindsight, must have made life extremely difficult for my mother. My stepfather was a strict disciplinarian and after he’d whacked me a couple of times for what he termed insolence, I began to seriously hate his guts.’ Rafe paused for a moment before continuing.

‘Things went from bad to worse, and the whacks changed to beatings. On the final occasion, when he began to lay into me with his belt, my mother tried to intervene. He pushed her out of the way so roughly that she stumbled and fell. I saw red and went for him. I wasn’t quite fourteen at the time.’

Her aquamarine eyes full of concern, Madeleine asked, ‘What happened?’

Matter-of-factly, he said, ‘I managed to split his lip before ending up in Casualty.’

As she winced he added, ‘I think he may have been genuinely sorry afterwards. But it was patently obvious that things couldn’t go on like that, so I was hastily packed off to live with my godparents.’

Madeleine reached out to touch his arm. ‘Were you very upset?’

‘For a time I was very bitter,’ he admitted. ‘Though my godparents were amazing.’

‘Had they any children of their own?’

‘One daughter, Fiona. But they had always hoped for a son, and were only too delighted to have me.’

‘Fiona wasn’t jealous at all?’

His face softened. ‘Oh, no. We got to be very close. In fact for a while she hero-worshipped me. She was nearly three years younger than me, and I always called her my kid sister.’

‘So it was a good move?’

‘Oh, yes. The whole family treated me exactly like their own, and I was very happy with them until I went up to Oxford. My godfather died eighteen months ago and it was like losing a father…

‘But that’s enough doom and gloom—let’s talk about something else. What shall we do for the rest of the day? Would you like to—’

‘I can’t,’ she broke in desperately. On Sundays she always had lunch at the nursing home, and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening there. ‘I mean, I’m already going out.’

When she made no effort to elaborate, he asked, ‘What time do you need to start?’

‘In about an hour.’

‘Then as soon as you’ve showered and dressed, I’ll take you home.’ Though his voice was even, she knew he was vexed by her reticence, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him about her mother. He was sure to ask questions that, burdened with guilt, she didn’t want to answer.

His profile cool and aloof, he drove through the Sunday streets in silence. She longed to break that silence, but could think of nothing to say.

When he drew up outside her flat and, still without speaking, helped her out, she felt a sudden panic in case this was the end.

What would she do if he simply drove away?

As though to keep her guessing, he unlocked her door and handed her back the key, before asking, ‘Are you free tomorrow evening?’

‘Yes,’ she said eagerly.

‘Then if you like, I’ll take you to see Katie and her parents. I’ve already mentioned your name to them.’

‘There’s just one thing…’ Madeleine began a shade awkwardly.

Reading her hesitation, he said, ‘You prefer to keep your private and professional lives separate?’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘That’s fine by me. All they know up to now is that you’re the physiotherapist who checked me out, and we can keep it that way. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty, and afterwards we can have dinner.’

Madeleine liked Rafe’s sister and brother-in-law on sight. Over drinks on the sunny terrace of their Surrey home she learnt that Diane, with her brother’s seal-dark hair and green eyes, was a lawyer, and Stuart, a pleasant, easy-going man, worked as an architect.

They both doted on their only daughter and were over the moon when Katie took an immediate liking to Madeleine, and agreed to have further treatment.

The liking was mutual. Madeleine instantly lost her heart to the quiet, sensitive child, with her long dark hair, her big brown eyes and shy smile.

Over the next few weeks, with regular treatments, Katie’s condition improved enormously, and a strong bond developed between her and Madeleine.

Rafe was delighted for everyone’s sake, but he stayed well out of things and, though his and Madeleine’s relationship grew and blossomed, it was never mentioned.

They spent as much time with one another as possible, dancing, dining, talking, simply being together.

Several times, while the good weather held, he barbecued for them on his patio. Afterwards, safe from prying eyes, they made sweet, delectable love in the sun.

As the days and weeks passed and Madeleine got to know him better, her happiness increased. Apart from his physical attributes and his prowess as a lover, he proved to be eventempered and generous, an intelligent, stimulating companion, always sensitive to her needs.

She knew that never in her lifetime would she find another man who suited her so well, and, eternally grateful, she said many a prayer of thanks to the goddess of destiny for the miracle that had brought him into her life.

Only her visits to the nursing home cast a shadow. Rafe said nothing openly, but she knew he was ruffled by her unexplained absences. Even a little jealous of whom she might be meeting.

Each time she tried to tell him the truth guilt made the words stick in her throat, and she chickened out. But one of these days, she promised herself, she would find the courage to tell him everything.

In the meantime, though she still spent most of Sunday at the nursing home, she had changed her Saturday visit to the morning—struggling with the shopping and housework when she could—to leave the afternoon free.

That Saturday afternoon they had something very special planned. Jonathan Cass was one of her favourite artists, and Rafe had accepted an invitation to a one-day private showing of Cass’s new, and so far unseen, works.

He had arranged to pick her up at twelve-thirty so they could have lunch together before going on to the Piccadilly gallery, and she left the nursing home earlier than usual to make certain she was home in good time.