Millionaire's Woman: The Millionaire's Prospective Wife / The Millionaire's Runaway Bride / The Millionaire's Reward

‘So you had a happy childhood?’ she asked curiously, drawn by the affection in his deep voice as he’d spoken about his family.

‘The best.’ They had just drawn up at some traffic lights and again the blue gaze raked her face. ‘Hence the nicely rounded, well-adjusted individual you see in front of you,’ he said quietly.

The lights changed in the next instant but, as the car purred on, the content of his last words stayed with Cory. Had he been hinting that she wasn’t those things or was she being over-sensitive here? she asked herself silently, her mouth unconsciously tightening. If it was the former then he’d got a right cheek because she was fine, just fine. But it could be the latter…

She risked another sideways glance through her eyelashes. It probably wasn’t the moment to notice the way his dark hair curled ever so slightly into the base of his neck. It wasn’t short and it wasn’t long but it suited him perfectly. She wondered how it would feel if she sifted her fingers through the soft strands. And then she caught the errant thought quickly and looked straight ahead before he caught her observing him.

She was going loopy here. What on earth was she doing fantasising about this man? In fact, how come she was with him in the first place? She wanted her head examined!

By the time they reached the pub, which was close to Hampstead Heath, Cory just wanted out of the car. She couldn’t ever remember being so aware of every little movement or action by another human being. Nick, on the other hand, appeared perfectly relaxed and at ease, chatting about this and that and keeping the conversation strictly impersonal now.

Once inside the pub, which was all brass and copper and leaded windows, he led her straight through and out into the small, flower-bedecked garden at the rear. ‘This is our table.’ He pointed to a table for two set next to a lattice of climbing roses which were scenting the air with their rich sweetness.

‘How do you know?’ The pub had been packed inside and out here the few tables there were were full.

Nick reached out and removed a reserved sign from the table. ‘Trust me,’ he said, smiling. ‘I know the owner.’

‘Not another university friend?’

‘Boyhood friend this time. John and I grew up together.’

‘And he always keeps this table for you?’

‘If I ring up and request it, yes. Which I did first thing this morning.’ He pulled out a sun-warmed seat and she sank down, the perfume of the flowers and the caress of the sun on her skin blissful.

‘They do a great Brunello here,’ Nick said, still standing. ‘Do you like red wine?’

‘Love it.’

‘I’ll get a bottle. I shall limit myself to one glass as I’m driving but I guarantee once you taste it, you’ll be unable to resist another. Shall I order two roast dinners while I’m at it?’

Cory nodded. This was nice, too nice.

So was the wine when it came. The intense chocolate and nutty aroma was a ripe explosion of taste in the mouth, and she closed her eyes and just breathed in the aroma made all the more potent by the hot air. ‘This is gorgeous,’ she murmured, taking another long sip.

‘Don’t tell me I’ve found the way to your heart?’ Nick had sat down opposite her, his eyes slightly closed against the sun and his long legs stretched out in front of him.

Forget about the roast dinner, Cory thought wryly. He looked good enough to eat. She raised an eyebrow. ‘With one glass of wine?’ she said severely. ‘I think not.’

‘The bottle’s there, feel free.’

She smiled. ‘I’ve always believed in moderation in all things.’

‘All things?’ The blue eyes were wicked.

‘All things,’ she insisted firmly, refusing to acknowledge the innuendo.

‘Then it’s as I thought,’ Nick said with obvious complacency. ‘Your education in certain areas has been sadly neglected and I look upon it as my duty to set things right. What you need to do from this point, Cory, is to look upon me as your teacher and guide into the ways of the flesh. OK?’ And he took a long, satisfying drink of wine.

She laughed. Well, there was nothing else she could do really, because she couldn’t take him seriously. In spite of the bolt of lightning that had shot through her.

‘I’m more than up to the task,’ he assured her softly, putting down the glass and taking one of her hands in his. He turned her fingers over so that the soft, vulnerable underside of her wrist was exposed, stroking it with first one finger and then—shockingly—as he raised her hand to his mouth, his warm lips.

‘Don’t!’ She snatched her hand away, almost knocking the wine over. ‘Don’t do that.’

‘Why not?’ He sat back in his chair, his eyes on hers. ‘It’s nothing.’ His smile was lazy.

It was nothing and yet it suggested everything—all the forbidden delights of her dream were in those warm, knowing lips. She knew exactly what he was trying to do and she was determined not to acknowledge her own desire and need. She shrugged. ‘I don’t play those sort of games,’ she said shortly.

There wasn’t even a hint of a smile on his lips when he said, ‘Who’s playing games?’

CHAPTER FOUR

CORY could have kissed the little barmaid who arrived at the table with their food just after Nick had spoken. In the ensuing activity the moment for her to respond to him came and went, and she made sure she tucked into her meal without further ado. The Sunday roast with all the trimmings was delicious, as was the hazelnut and cherry pie which followed, all washed down with another large glass of wine by Cory and sparkling mineral water for Nick.

Nick’s friend brought their coffee, pulling up a chair from a table which had been vacated when Nick invited him to join them for a glass of wine. ‘Here.’ Nick poured the last of the wine into his empty glass and passed it to John. ‘Cory insists she’s had enough.’

‘Potent stuff, isn’t it?’ John was a slight blond man and he grinned at Cory as he spoke. ‘My favourite ever since Nick introduced me to it years ago. Bit expensive for the pub trade but I always make sure a bottle’s in for when this guy turns up.’ He punched Nick lightly on the shoulder. ‘I can only stay a minute or two, though. Lucinda—the wife,’ he added in an aside to Cory, ‘will be on the warpath if she catches me slacking.’

‘Are you man or mouse?’ Nick put in.

‘Where Lucinda’s concerned? Definitely rodent.’

He was only halfway through the glass and in the middle of relating an incident from their childhood—about the time when he and Nick had been caught scrumping from a farmer’s orchard—when the said Lucinda appeared. Big, buxom and definitely Italian, she bustled over to their table, throwing her arms round Nick and then scolding him for staying away for too long, before she clipped her husband round the ear. ‘You creep out here without telling me and then you drink the last of Nick’s wine,’ she remonstrated in a heavy accent. ‘You are the impossible man. You see what I have to put up with?’ she appealed to Nick. ‘And who is your beautiful lady?’ she added, turning a beaming smile on a bemused Cory.

‘Cory James meet Lucinda Robinson,’ Nick said, laughter in his voice. ‘And her bark’s worse than her bite.’

‘Says who?’ said John, rubbing his ear. ‘She used to do that when she was a little thing the size of Cory but I could keep her in her place then. She packs a fair wallop now.’

‘Oh, you.’ Lucinda planted a smacking kiss on John’s lips, pinching his bottom as she added, ‘I keep you warm at night though, yes?’

‘That you do, wench.’ John smiled at his wife and for a moment the look the two exchanged brought a lump to Cory’s throat. This was love, true love. It was shining out of their faces. For a second she envied the other woman from the bottom of her heart.

After a few more minutes, during which time Lucinda had extracted a promise from Nick that he would attend her thirty-fifth birthday party in the middle of July—Cory having ducked her invitation by saying she would have to check her diary—the two disappeared back into the pub, leaving them alone. They were the last ones in the garden now, apart from a cheeky robin who was busy pecking a morsel of gateau under a nearby table and chasing off a horde of hopeful sparrows when they got too near his plunder.

‘How long have they been married?’ she asked Nick as they finished the last of their now cool coffee.

‘Ten years.’

‘Have they any children?’

He shifted in his seat. ‘Lucinda can’t have any. They tried everything but…’ He shrugged. His eyes lifted to hers as he continued, ‘It was a bad time. She comes from one of those huge Italian families where every daughter pops one out a year. They were living in Italy then but when she had a nervous breakdown John brought her over here for a change of scene for a while. That was five years ago and they haven’t looked back since.’

‘And John doesn’t mind? About not having children?’

Nick looked at her levelly. ‘He minds like hell, but the way he sees it he didn’t fall in love with Lucinda because she was some sort of baby-making machine. He loves her, he always has from the day he first set eyes on her.’

Cory stared at him. She wanted to cry but he would think she was mad. Nevertheless her voice was thick when she said, ‘They’re lucky, the way they feel about each other, I mean.’

‘Yes, they are, but they’re not unique.’ His eyes were holding hers now and although she wanted to break the contact she found she couldn’t. ‘That’s what you were thinking, wasn’t it,’ he said softly, and it was a statement not a question. ‘That they’re unique. I could read it in your face.’

She wanted to deny it but he would know she was lying. ‘Not unique,’ she prevaricated. ‘More…unusual.’

‘Why do you think that way?’

It was straight for the jugular but she was recognising he was that sort of man. She couldn’t answer him. She let her hair fall to cover her face. ‘I don’t want to continue this conversation.’

‘OK.’

It was immediate and almost nonchalant and the tone shocked her. Which was ridiculous, she told herself angrily. She hadn’t wanted him to pursue the matter so why should she feel so let down that he didn’t seem to care?

‘Let’s go for a stroll on the Heath to walk the lunch off and get ready for dinner,’ Nick said easily as she raised her head again.

Dinner? Who had said anything about dinner? ‘I don’t think—’

‘Good. Don’t think. I like you better that way.’

‘Now look—’ And then she noticed his smile. Weakly, she said, ‘You’re trying to wind me up.’

‘Me?’ He leant forward as he stood to his feet and kissed her on the top of her nose. ‘As if. Finish your wine while I go and settle with John. We’ll leave the car in the pub car park for now.’

He was gone before she could object.

Cory had wanted to stay remote and detached on the Heath but she found she couldn’t. The beautiful day had brought many Londoners out into the fresh air, the fathomless blue sky above too perfect to waste time indoors.

They walked hand in hand, talking now and again, and unlike in the pub garden she found herself relaxing, waves of contentment flowing over her like a balmy breeze.

‘You’re beginning to burn.’ Nick pulled her into the shade of an old tree, the bottom of its trunk splotched with lichens and velvety moss. The grass was thick and warm as they sat down, and in the distance two young boys were throwing a Frisbee for a shaggy mutt of a dog who was barking enthusiastically as he ran.

Cory turned her head. Nick was stretched out beside her, hands clasped under his head and his eyes shut. He opened one eye. ‘We’ve had the walk, now it’s time for a nap.’

This was far too beguiling. ‘You make us sound like a couple of old-age pensioners,’ she said flatly, aiming to break the mood. ‘And I don’t nap during the day.’

‘Try.’ He reached out one arm and pulled her down beside him, settling her head on his chest. ‘Even a pillow provided,’ he drawled lazily, idly stroking her hair. ‘Now shut your eyes like a good girl.’

She was as tense as piano wire for a few minutes but then, as he made no move to kiss her or do anything except slowly stroke her hair, she found herself relaxing. The heat of the day, the dappled shade through the leaves of the tree, the muted sounds in the background all combined to unknot her nerves and make her drowsy. At the most she had only managed two or three hours’ sleep the night before and the Sunday lunch had left her comfortably full, not to mention the soporific effect of the wine. She slept.

When she next opened her eyes, Nick was looking down at her. He was propped on one elbow and her head was now resting on his middle. ‘Hello,’ he said, very softly.

Still dazed with sleep, she murmured, ‘Hallo yourself.’

When he bent and kissed her it seemed the most natural thing in the world to lift her arms about his neck. She still wasn’t awake enough to fight the realisation that she had been waiting for this moment all day, the moment when he would really kiss her again.

He made no attempt to touch any other part of her body yet every nerve came alive, twanging with sensation as the kiss deepened.

When he drew away he was breathing hard, his voice gruff as he said, ‘Any more and I shall forget where I am, and we don’t want to frighten any little children, do we.’

She smiled as she was meant to, but she couldn’t help wondering if she had imagined the note of what had sounded like surprise in his voice.

He seemed to confirm, it, however, when he said, ‘I’m not sure what you do to me, Cory James, but it could get to be like a drug.’

‘Is that good or bad?’ She heard herself flirt with a little stab of amazement, but it all seemed to be part of the lazy afternoon.

‘Depends.’ One finger traced the outline of her lips.

‘On what?’

‘How often I can get a fix.’

Enough. She sat up, brushing her hair out of her eyes as she said, ‘I told you, I don’t—’

‘Date. Yes, I remember. So when do you see that changing?’

‘What?’

‘You’ll want to settle down one day, surely, so how do you intend to find Mr Right if the opposite sex is out of bounds?’ he asked smoothly.

She found his presumption galling to say the least. ‘Why should I want to settle down? Because I’m a woman?’

He stared at her, the riveting blue of his eyes betraying nothing of what he was thinking. ‘I’ve found most of your sex are inclined towards ultimate monogamy, babies, that kind of thing.’

‘Well, I’m not,’ she said firmly.

‘You don’t want babies one day?’

‘No. Yes. I mean—’ What did she mean? ‘Babies are not part of my plans for the future.’

‘That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?’ he asked mildly.

‘Not if it prevents them just being mere incidentals in someone else’s life.’ She’d spoken too quickly and from the heart without considering her words, and now she could have kicked herself as she watched the piercing gaze narrow.

‘Incidental? Is that how you saw yourself in your parents’ lives?’

Cory made a conscious effort at self-control. She couldn’t believe how they had arrived at talking like this. She had known some of her friends for years and years and they had never remotely touched on such intimate subjects. She had known Nick for a couple of days and here he was giving her the third degree. ‘Let’s change the subject,’ she said stiffly.

‘Let’s not.’ He rose to his feet, pulling her up with him and then keeping her within the circle of his arms when she made to pull free. ‘Cory, most kids grow up knowing they are the most precious things under the sun to their parents,’ he said softly. ‘I’m sorry, heart sorry, if it wasn’t that way for you, but don’t let anyone else’s mistakes push you down a path where you don’t really want to go.’

‘How do you know where I want to go?’ His words had bit into the secret recesses of her heart like acid. ‘You don’t know me. You didn’t know my parents either so don’t make any snap judgements on them or me.’

He was quite still for a moment, then he said, ‘It’d be a crying shame if someone as beautiful and sensitive as you shut herself away from life. Don’t you see that?’

‘Life meaning sex?’ she asked with a baldness that shocked her. ‘And sex meaning your bed, I suppose?’

‘My bed is certainly big enough to accommodate the two of us,’ he said mildly, ‘but I wasn’t necessarily referring to it. I can actually think about something other than sex occasionally.’

‘Then you’re one of the few men who can.’ Again she could have kicked herself, What was she doing? She had to calm down. He was far too perceptive for his own good—or maybe that should be her good. She tried to prise his arms away but they merely tightened.

‘What was his name?’

‘Whose name?’ she hedged, swallowing hard.

‘The guy who let you down. Because you have been let down by someone, haven’t you, Cory? Was it recently?’

Her frozen state resembled a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

‘You can tell me to go to hell,’ he said grimly, ‘but I’d rather hear if it’s really over, at least from your side.’

‘It’s over,’ she said dully.

‘In your heart or in your head?’

He really didn’t seem to know when to stop. The thought brought enough adrenalin for her to break free and take a step backwards, her voice a snap when she said, ‘Both, OK? Both. Is that what you wanted to hear?’

‘Yes, it is.’ And he didn’t sound in the least apologetic about his temerity.

‘His name was William Patterson and he was rich, goodlooking and very sure of himself. He asked me to marry him and then I found him making love to someone else. Is that enough information? Oh, and it was over three years ago now.’ She had put as much sarcasm into her voice as she could to stop it trembling.

He didn’t say anything for what seemed like a very long time to Cory’s overwrought nerves. Then he stuffed his hands into his pockets, his eyes still on her. ‘Her name was Joanna and we were married,’ he said quietly. ‘She was killed instantly when a drunk driver on the wrong side of the road knocked her car straight in front of a lorry on Christmas Eve. She’d popped out to get some bulbs for the lights on the tree so it would be ready when I walked in from work. The drunk driver had bruises, nothing else.’

‘Oh, Nick.’ She was scarcely breathing.

‘It was a long time ago, Cory, thirteen years to be exact. We had only been left university for six months. We were still two kids, playing at being married but enjoying every moment. I was twenty-two but I grew up very quickly that night. After that…’ He shrugged. ‘I threw myself into work and the next year started my own business. It was good to have something to drive at.’

‘And you’ve never…I mean, there hasn’t been anyone else you’ve wanted to—’ She stopped abruptly, aware she was putting it badly.

‘I’ve had relationships since Joanna,’ he said, ‘one or two of them long-term. If you’re asking me if I was ever tempted to get married again, then the answer’s no.’

Cory nodded. She didn’t know what to say. She’d had him down as a love ’em and leave ’em type—which he might be now—but she had to admit she hadn’t thought about what might have made him that way. ‘It must have been very hard for you,’ she said at last.

‘For a while.’ He shrugged. ‘But it seems like another lifetime now. The boy Joanna knew was very different to the man I’ve become, I guess. Who knows whether we would still even be together if she had lived? We were very young, that’s for sure. And typical students. We married in a registry office one wet Saturday afternoon; she wore a long skirt and a jumper with bells round the bottom and I wore jeans and a scruffy T-shirt.’

‘Bohemians.’

‘Something like that.’ He smiled at her, reaching out and taking her hand, and she let him pull her into his side as they began walking again.

Even as she was making all the right noises, Cory found her mind was working on a different plane altogether as they strolled back to the pub. Nick Morgan was inveigling himself into her life somehow, and it frightened her. She was sure he hadn’t made up the story about his young wife, but had he told her about Joanna hoping it would soften her attitude to him? William had been full of little tricks like that. In fact, once their relationship was over she’d realised William had played her like a master virtuoso. She frowned to herself.

‘You’re thinking again.’ The deep voice was amused.

‘What?’ She wiped her face clear of expression as she glanced up at him.

‘I’d bet a pound to a penny I was featuring in your thoughts and not favourably,’ he drawled. ‘Right?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ She could feel her cheeks burning.

‘Something along the lines of wondering if I’d spun you a yarn, yes?’

‘No.’ Her voice carried a note of indignation that couldn’t be misconstrued. ‘Of course I believe what you told me. I know you wouldn’t make something like that up.’ Even as she spoke Cory wondered how she knew. But know she did. She decided to look at that one later.

‘Then you’re wondering why I told you,’ he persisted doggedly.

Wretched man. She turned her head, pretending an interest in two screaming toddlers whose harassed mother was trying to persuade them back into a double buggy. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Little liar.’ It was soft, indulgent, and took the sting out of the words.

Cory decided she could do some plain speaking herself. She stopped, looking up into the clear blue eyes as she said, ‘OK then, why did you tell me?’

‘I don’t know.’ He didn’t blink, his face oddly vulnerable. Cory didn’t like what it did to her treacherous heart. Then, with a wry smile, he said, ‘It’s not something I usually drop into the conversation on the second date. In fact it’s not something I usually talk about at all.’

How could someone who was so big and male and dangerous look so boyish for a moment? She told herself she’d had enough of aching heartstrings for one afternoon and answered his smile with one of her own, saying lightly, ‘Looks like we’re both in the dark then. And we’re not dating, remember? This is my penance.’

He chuckled and her heart thudded with pleasure that she could make him laugh, even as a hundred alarm bells went off in her head. He was the most exciting man she had ever met, she’d known that yesterday, but today she’d realised there was much more to Nick than met the eye. He probably had a lighthearted little romance in mind, a few romps in bed until the next woman came along, a woman more suited to his complex and captivating personality. But she wasn’t like that.

They walked on, the warm evening air redolent of woodsmoke from a distant bonfire somewhere, but Cory’s mind was racing.

How did you tell an experienced man of the world like Nick Morgan, a man who by his own admission had had more than one woman in his bed in his time—lots more—that you had never actually…

She groaned inwardly. He would laugh at her and somehow—somehow she couldn’t bear the thought of that.

Of course she had had her moments in the days before she had tangled with William. Her friends at university had been popping in and out of bed with the current boyfriend as though it was as simple and easy as having a cup of tea. They had said she was too intense, that she was making too big a deal out of what was the most natural thing in the world, but something had always stopped her from making total bodily commitment with the lads she had gone out with.

She supposed she’d been waiting for the Mr Right Nick had spoken of earlier. Her lip curled at her naïvety. Even though she’d always doubted anyone would feel that way about her in her heart.

They reached the pub within a few minutes and after saying their goodbyes to Lucinda and John walked to the car. As they drove back along the route they had travelled earlier, Cory said tentatively, ‘I brought some work home I really ought to look at before tomorrow. If you wouldn’t mind dropping me back at the flat now, please.’