The Millionaire Tycoon's English Rose

She felt it vanish from her hand.

‘What would I do without you, my darling? You’ve got more sense than the rest of us put together. As long as I’ve got you, I don’t need anyone else.’

Celia leaned down and rested her cheek against his head, trying to take comfort from their loving companionship.

But the truth was that her heart was aching. Something about Francesco had reached out to her, and she had reached back because it had felt so right. It was crazy to feel like this about a man she’d only just met, but with all her heart and soul she wanted him.

Now, floating in the blessed anonymity of the ocean, she wondered how she could have loved him so agonisingly then, and five months later be running away from him?

The question tortured her as she sank deeper into the water, reliving the events of yesterday, when she’d slipped out of the home they shared without telling him where she was going. She’d left him a note that she’d managed to write on a large pad:

I’LL CALL YOU LATER TODAY, CELIA.

She’d hated the deception, hated herself for doing it, but she’d had no choice. She loved him now as much as she’d done on that evening, five months ago, when she’d wondered, sadly, if she would ever see him again. If anything, she loved him more.

And yet she’d escaped him, knowing that if she didn’t she would go mad.

CHAPTER TWO

THE PR contract had been arranged the next day, and over the following week there had been a good deal of coming and going between the two firms. But it had never been Francesco who arrived. Celia had resigned herself to not meeting him again when there was a knock on her front door in the evening.

She’d gone to the door, switching on the light as she went, so that the visitor should have some illumination. She lived without lights.

‘Who is it?’ she called.

‘It’s me,’ came his voice from behind the door.

He didn’t need to identify himself further. They both understood that there was only one ‘me.’ She opened the door and put out her hand, feeling it enfolded in his.

‘I came because—’ He stopped. ‘There are things we need to—Will you let me in—please?’

She stood back. ‘Come in.’

She heard the click as the door closed behind him. He was still holding her hand, but for a moment he didn’t move, as if he was unsure what would come next.

‘I didn’t think you’d come back,’ she said. ‘The contract—’

‘The hell with the contract,’ he said with soft violence. ‘Do you really think that’s why I’m here?’

‘I don’t know what to think,’ she whispered. ‘I haven’t known all week.’

‘I’ll tell you what to think of me—that I’m a coward who runs away from a woman who’s different, more challenging than other women. I run away because secretly I’m afraid I can’t match up to her. I just know I’ll let her down and she’ll be better off without me—’

‘Isn’t that for her to decide?’ she asked joyfully.

His hand tightened on hers and she felt him raise it, then his lips against her palm.

‘I couldn’t keep away from you,’ he said huskily. ‘I tried, but I can’t. And I never will be able to.’

‘I’ll never want you to,’ she said in passionate gratitude.

His lips were burning her hand, igniting her whole body so that she longed for him to touch her everywhere. She drew his face towards her and felt the urgency of his mouth at the first touch of hers. It was as though she’d given him the signal he’d been waiting for.

Now she knew that she’d wanted this since she’d sat with him in the restaurant, listening to his words and trying to picture the mouth that shaped them. His lips on hers, coaxing, inciting, urging, pleading, had been the temptation that teased and taunted her.

And all this week, after he’d gone, she’d been haunted by dreams of the impossible, of his body lying naked against her in the equality that darkness would bring. Now he was here, and joy and excitement possessed her body and soul.

‘Celia,’ he said huskily. ‘Celia—’

She stepped back, drawing him after her towards the bedroom, reaching up to turn out the hall light, so that the place was dark again and only she knew the way.

It might be madness to rush helter-skelter into love. Caution was indicated. But her circumstances and a combative nature had always made her despise caution. Besides, Francesco had tried it and it didn’t work. It was a relief, setting her free.

She touched his face, letting her fingers gently explore its planes and angles, the wide mouth and sharply defined jaw, the slightly crooked nose. He was just as she wanted him to be.

She remembered everything. Floating now on the cushion of water, cut off from the world, she recalled details that she’d barely noticed at the time. They’d been obscured by the sweet fire flaming through her, engulfing all in its path, yet they’d endured in some corner of her consciousness, to be relived later.

Now they made her heart ache for their cruel contrast with the present. Francesco was still the same man who’d won her love by his gentleness and his open adoration of her. He was still the man who’d taken her to bed and loved her with slow, reverent gestures that had brought her flesh to eager life.

The pressure of the water on every part of her body was bringing back those memories. With his very first touch she had felt that he was touching her everywhere. As his lips had lain gently against her breast the reaction had flowed up from her loins and out to every part.

She had been eager to welcome him in, reaching for him, drawing him close, moving with his rhythm. Everything had felt natural because it was with him. His skin, touching hers, had been warm, growing more heated as his passion mounted.

To make love in blindness was an act of trust, but hadn’t failed her. He had been a tender lover, gentle, considerate even in the intensity of his ardour, and above all, generous. Looking back, she often said that her passion had started the day they’d met. Her love dated from that first night together.

When the first explosion of delight had been over and they had fallen apart, stunned and joyful, she’d propped herself up on one elbow and begun to explore him.

‘After all, I can’t see you,’ she teased. ‘I have to find out in my own way.’

‘I guess you were going to discover my feeble muscles and pot-belly some time or other.’ He laughed.

‘Yup. Let’s see, now, is this your shoulder?’

‘It’s at the top of my arm, so I guess it must be.’

‘Nothing feeble about that muscle,’ she murmured. ‘And it continues very nicely along here.’

‘You’ve left my arm behind. That’s my chest.’

‘Mmm,’ she whispered, kissing the pectoral muscles one by one. ‘You don’t have any hair on your chest. I prefer that.’

‘Are you saying you’re an expert?’

‘Blind teaching is very modern these days,’ she said in a serious voice. ‘We take lessons in everything.’

There was the briefest pause before he said cautiously, ‘Everything?’

‘Almost everything.’

‘Are you making fun of me?’

Her lips twitched. ‘Do you think I am?’

‘I wish I could be sure.’

‘Well, you can decide about that later. Where was I?’

‘Exploring my chest.’

‘Let’s leave that for the moment. I don’t want to rush this.’

‘I don’t want to rush it, either,’ he said huskily, letting her fingers roam over his thighs, relishing every moment.

‘You have very long legs,’ she murmured in a considering voice. ‘At least, I suppose they are. I don’t have many points of comparison.’

‘I wish you didn’t have any—unless, of course, you learned that in the leg class?’

She stifled her laughter against his chest, and at last she felt him relax enough to laugh, as well.

Francesco didn’t relax easily, she could tell. It had been a real shock to him when she’d made a joke about her blindness, but he’d soon get the hang of that. She would teach him. In the meantime, they had other business.

‘Now, about that pot-belly of yours,’ she murmured, letting her fingers continue their work. ‘It doesn’t feel very pot to me.’

‘I don’t keep it precisely there,’ he said in a tense voice.

‘You want me to move?’

‘No, just…keep doing…what you’re doing.’

She did as he wished, realising that their previous loving had barely taken the edge off his passion and he was once more in a state of heated arousal. He was hard and hot in her palm, and she indulged herself in pleasure until, at the precise moment she intended, he lost control and tossed her onto her back.

Her own control was fast vanishing. She was eager for him to move over her and repeat the experience that had been so thrilling the first time. She reached for him, barely able to contain herself, clasping him so firmly that they were united in an instant.

At the feel of him inside her she gave a shout of pleasure that mingled with his and began to move strongly, urgently, wrapping her legs around him and holding him close. She wanted to keep him like that always.

Afterwards they slept in each other’s arms for a couple of hours and awoke hungry. She went into the kitchen, refusing his offer to make the food himself.

‘I know where everything is,’ she assured him.

‘Yes, you just proved that,’ he murmured.

‘Don’t be vulgar.’ She chuckled, aiming a mock punch at him.

But she misjudged the distance and caught him across the face, making him yell more in surprise than pain.

‘Darling, darling, I’m sorry,’ she cried, kissing him fiercely. ‘I didn’t mean that.’

‘You’re a violent woman,’ he complained.

‘No, just a blind one. You’ll be covered in bruises in no time.’

‘How can you talk like that?’

‘Because it’s true. You should escape me now, while you still can!’

‘I didn’t mean that. I meant the other thing.’

‘About being blind?’

‘Yes. Never mind that now. Let’s have something to eat.’

She made sandwiches and coffee and they picnicked in the bedroom.

‘It upsets you when I make jokes about being blind, doesn’t it?’ she mused, munching.

‘It confuses me. It’s like invading sacred ground.’

‘It’s not sacred to me. Anyway, it’s my ground and I’ll invade it if I want to. And if I can, you can. So hush!’

They had laughed, and loved again, laughed again and loved again. That was how it had been in the beginning.

And even then the first danger signs had been there, but they’d both been too much in love to heed them. If only…

‘Time to come in,’ came the voice over the radio.

‘Just a few more minutes,’ Celia begged.

‘Your air will be running out soon. Did you find any pirate treasure?’

‘Not this time, but I always live in hope,’ she said, determinedly cheerful.

It was time to go back and face the world. Fiona was close by, calling her, and together they made their way to the boat, where hands came down to welcome them aboard.

‘How was it?’ Ken asked.

‘Wonderful!’ Celia exclaimed. ‘The most glorious feeling—being weightless, and so free—such freedom—as though the rest of the world didn’t exist.’

‘Is that your idea of freedom?’ Fiona asked. ‘Escaping the rest of the world?’

‘Escaping the world’s prejudices, yes,’ Celia murmured thoughtfully.

‘Ah,’ Ken said in a significant voice. ‘I’m afraid that the world has followed you here. I’ve just heard on the radio that when we get back to land you’ll find Francesco waiting for you.’

‘How did he find me here? I just said I was going. I didn’t say where.’

‘I guess he’s got a very good surveillance team working on it,’ Ken suggested lightly.

He meant it as a joke, but Celia’s face tightened and her voice was hard as she said, ‘Evidently.’

‘What do you want to do?’ Ken asked. ‘You’ve paid for the whole day, and there’s two hours left, so we don’t have to go back before then.’

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him to head out to sea for a long as possible. But she mastered the impulse and said in a resigned voice, ‘No, let’s go back now. I’ve got to face him sooner or later.’

‘Why have you got to face him?’ Fiona asked indignantly. ‘This is the twenty-first century. A woman doesn’t have to put up with an abusive man.’

‘But he isn’t abusive.’ Celia sighed. ‘He’s gentle and loving and protective. He wants to shield me from every wind that blows.’

‘Oh, Lord!’ Fiona said in sympathy. As they neared land she said, ‘I can see his face now. He doesn’t look loving and protective. He looks mad as hell.’

‘Good!’ Celia said. ‘Then can I be as mad as hell and throw something at him?’

‘What would you do about aiming?’ Fiona wanted to know.

‘I wouldn’t need to,’ Celia said despairingly. ‘If he saw me lifting a heavy vase he’d get in front of me and let it hit him. Ooooh, what am I going to do with a man like that?’

‘Leave him,’ Fiona said at once. ‘Or you won’t survive.’

‘I know, I know, but it’s so drastic.’

‘Yes, but I know what it’s like. I broke my leg once, and my boyfriend drove me crazy fussing round me—do this, don’t do that, let me get this for you, don’t strain yourself. In the end I thumped him with my crutch. It was the only way.’

‘What happened to him?’ Celia asked, fascinated.

‘Don’t know. I never saw him again.’

Celia laughed, but the laughter soon faded and she leaned on the rail, her head bent down in the direction of the water that she could hear foaming beneath.

When they reached their destination Francesco was the first on board, coming straight to her and taking her hand.

‘I’ll take you ashore,’ he said. ‘And we’ll go home.’

‘No, thank you,’ she replied firmly. ‘As part of my day out I get a meal with the crew. And I’m hungry.’

‘I’ll get you a meal on the way home,’ he persisted.

His hands were on her arms, urging her so firmly that her anger began to grow.

‘Let go of me, Francesco,’ she said in a low voice.

‘I only want to guide you—’

‘So you say. But you’re that close to dragging me. Please let go, because I’m going to eat here.’

‘If it makes it any easier we’ll give you a refund for that part of the fee,’ Ken offered.

It actually made things harder for her, by cutting the ground out from under her feet, making her sound childishly stubborn for the sake of it. But he meant well, so she smiled and yielded.

She was forced to let Francesco help her off the boat and escort her towards the changing rooms. But she knew he was waiting for her outside. She must face him. And then what?

She knew him so well. She could feel his moods tearing apart the darkness around her, and could sense that behind his courteous charm he was in a furious temper that he was determined to conceal. She, too, was in a temper, but less sure about the virtue of concealing it.

Celia said her goodbyes and thanked Ken for a wonderful day.

‘And I don’t want a refund,’ she said. ‘I had a great time.’

‘Er—actually, I’ve already given the refund to your friend.’

‘What? I never said I was going to agree.’

‘He thought he was doing what would please you,’ Ken said placatingly.

‘You mean, he took it for granted that he knew best,’ Celia snapped. ‘How much did you give him?’

He told her, and she immediately plunged into her bag and produced the amount.

‘I do not want a refund,’ she said.

‘Celia, c’mon—’

‘Take it!’

One look at her set face was enough to make him accept the notes.

‘Good,’ she said. ‘Now, where’s the driver I hired for the day? He should be here to take me home.’

‘I’m here,’ said the voice of a middle-aged man beside her. ‘But there’s a feller over there keeps trying to make me go away. He says he’ll drive you. But I can’t just go off unless you say so. What should I do?’

For a moment she was on the verge of getting into the car and leaving Francesco standing there, looking foolish. But the impulse died. This wasn’t the time nor the place for the coming battle.

‘Tell him you’ll do what he wants,’ she said. ‘But only in return for a huge tip.’

‘How huge?’

‘Take him for all you can,’ she said crossly.

‘Yes, ma’am!’

‘Remind me never to get on your wrong side,’ Ken said with feeling.

She laughed reluctantly. ‘Yes, I’m told I scare strong men.’

‘I believe it. But here’s Fiona with Wicksy. He isn’t scared of you.’

Her guide dog came forward, relieved at recovering her after an absence of several hours. For a few moments they nuzzled each other.

‘Sorry to leave you alone, my darling,’ she murmured. ‘I couldn’t take you onto the boat—’

‘I think he’d have jumped into the water after you,’ Ken said.

‘Yes, he would,’ he said fondly.

‘Are you ready?’ That was Francesco’s voice. ‘I’m driving you home.’

‘What about the driver I hired?’ Celia asked, contriving to sound innocent.

‘I persuaded him to go.’

‘You had no right to do that.’

‘Then no doubt you’ll be pleased to know that he exacted a hefty price,’ Francesco said grimly.

‘Really? Shocking!’

‘And don’t try to sound surprised, because I saw him talking to you, and it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that you put him up to that bit of blackmail.’

‘Who? Me?’

‘Here’s the car. In you go, boy.’

When Wicksy was safely installed on the backseat Celia got into the front, immediately feeling his cold nose against her neck—his way of reminding her that he was still here. She put her hand behind her to touch him, silently saying, Message received, and after that they were both able to relax.

She needed all Wicksy’s calming influence to silence her inner rage at what Francesco had done. It was a long drive home, and she didn’t want to fight in the car.

At first it seemed he didn’t want to, either, but after a while he said through gritted teeth, ‘How could you? How could you do it?’

‘I did it because I had to. Because I wanted to find out if I could.’

‘And now you know. Is anything better?’

‘It might have been if you hadn’t spoiled it. I could just as easily ask, How could you? No, no, don’t answer that. We mustn’t fight about this now. We’ve said it all so often. Let’s just get home.’

Nobody spoke for the rest of the drive, but it didn’t feel like silence because the air was jagged with anger and with all the words being suppressed. By the time they reached their destination she was exhausted.

Home was still the flat she’d lived in before, which had been adapted for her in so many ways that it had made sense for him to move in with her five months earlier. After that one sweet loving there had been no question about their living together. Neither of them could have borne to do anything else.

‘I’ll take Wicksy for his walk,’ she said as she got out of the car.

‘I’ll come with you.’

‘No!’ The word came out in a flash, before she could stop it, and she was instantly contrite. ‘I’m sorry—it’s just that I need to be alone. I’m all tensed up.’

‘I’ll be waiting at home, then,’ he said in a colourless voice.

She was out for a long time, deliberately delaying her return home because of the fearful voice in her mind that warned her they were approaching a crisis, and the wrong words could destroy them both.

Part of her knew the problem had to be faced, and she wanted to go forward and deal with it. Part of her shrank away, arguing that things could be smoothed over with more time, and perhaps everything would be better in future. He might even be asleep when she returned.

But he wasn’t asleep, and she knew that the evil moment couldn’t be postponed any longer.

‘You were gone a long time,’ he said edgily. ‘I was—’

‘Don’t!’ she told him quickly. ‘Don’t say you were worried about me. Just don’t say that.’

‘Is it wrong for me to be worried about you?’

‘You overdo it. That’s all I meant.’

‘I know what a tough day you’ve had, and when you vanish into the darkness like that—’

‘Francesco, for pity’s sake,’ she groaned. ‘Why do you say things like that?’

‘Like what?’

‘Vanish into the darkness. I’m always in the darkness. It’s where I’m at home. I’m not lost in it, as you would be. Why can’t I make you understand that?’

‘I do understand it in one way—’

‘It’s not enough,’ she cried. ‘I’m not helpless, I’m not an invalid, but in your mind I’m always slightly less than a whole person.’

‘No—not really. But—you do have a disadvantage that other people don’t have—’

‘I also have advantages that other people don’t have. My memory is twice as good as yours, because I’ve trained it. I can hear things in people’s voices that you’d miss. I saved you a lot of money once by warning you that the man you were planning to do business with was untrustworthy. I could hear it in his voice. You were very lofty about that at the time. “You and your intuition!” you said. But at least you had the sense to listen to me and throw him out. He’s just started a two-year stretch for fraud, in case you didn’t know.’

‘Yes, I did. I was going to tell you, and say thank you. But I might have known you’d hear it first.’

‘Yes, you might. Perhaps I’m not as much at a disadvantage as you think.’

He sighed, and she could hear him pacing the room.

‘How did you know where to find me?’ she asked.

‘I remembered Ken from when we met him at that party. You talked to him for so long that I got jealous—until I realised it was his diving that fascinated you. You’ve called him several times since then, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, I have. It took time to set up today.’

‘I’m sure there must have been a lot of planning,’ he said in a bleak voice. ‘Booking the day, hiring the car to drive you down there, leaving the flat secretly, not telling me where you were going—that took some organising. When I found your note I checked up on Ken’s firm and discovered that you had a booking.’

‘So you jumped into your car and came down to tell me that I mustn’t dive because I didn’t have your permission?’ she said through gritted teeth.

‘Because it isn’t safe for you.’

‘It’s as safe for me as for anyone. I was on a line. Ken could have hauled me in at any time.’

‘You went behind my back,’ he said harshly.

The bitterness in his voice dulled the edge of her anger, reminding her how easy it was to hurt him. She didn’t want to hurt him, She wanted to love him as she’d done in their first carefree days; days that she knew would never come again.

‘You don’t give me any choice,’ she cried. ‘I had to do it without telling you because you’d have made such a fuss. You always do that if I try to do anything a little bit unusual.’

‘A little bit?’ he echoed. ‘You were scuba diving.’

‘Yes, and I managed perfectly well. As I knew I would. But you can’t bring yourself to believe that, can you? Sometimes I think you actually hate it when I manage to do something without you.’

‘For God’s sake, do you know what you’re saying?’

‘Yes, I’m saying I want to live my life as an adult, without having to apply to you for permission to take every breath.’

‘I’m only trying to keep you safe.’

‘I don’t want to be safe. I want the freedom to take the same risks as other people, and before I met you I had it. I loved it. But you set yourself to take it away from me, wrap me in cotton wool and lock me in a cocoon. I can’t live in there, Francesco, not even if you’re there with me. It’s like a prison, and I have to break out.’

‘Aren’t you being a bit melodramatic?’ he demanded

‘Not from where I’m standing.’

‘Meaning that I’m a gaoler?’

‘The kindest, most loving gaoler in the world,’ she said, trying to soften it. ‘I know that you love me, and it’s your love that makes you overprotective, but I can’t live that way. I’ve got to get as far out on the edge as I can without you trying to drag me back.’