Читать книгу Taming the Rebel Tycoon: Wife by Approval / Dating the Rebel Tycoon / The Playboy Takes a Wife - Элли Блейк, Ally Blake - Страница 13

‘I DON’T understand,’ Tina protested, puzzled.

Richard brushed a strand of silky blonde hair away from her cheek with his free hand and said, ‘It’s over three weeks since I first saw you.’

‘Three weeks?’

‘I was visiting Cartel Wines when I caught sight of you coming out of De Vere’s office. I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen and I knew I had to have you…’

She was still endeavouring to catch her breath when he went on, ‘Unfortunately, the following day I was forced to travel to the Far East on an extremely important business trip, so I couldn’t follow things through myself.

‘However, I had some checks made and, finding you were free, I discussed getting married with the Reverend Peter, who made all the necessary arrangements—’

Completely flabbergasted, she protested, ‘But you hadn’t even spoken to me. How could you be so sure I’d marry you?’

‘I couldn’t be sure, of course…’ With a trace of arrogance, he added, ‘But I usually get what I want.’

She could easily believe it. Especially when it came to women.

‘The trip dragged on until the middle of last week,’ he continued, ‘but for the first time in my life I found I couldn’t keep my mind on business matters. I kept thinking about you, planning how to meet you when I got back.’

‘And then we met by accident…’ But, even as she said the words, some sixth sense made her wonder—had running into her been an accident?

Oh, don’t be a fool, she chided herself. What man in his right mind would do such a thing deliberately when there were plenty of other ways he could have met her?

For instance, if he’d wanted to get to know her so badly, why hadn’t he spoken to her in the car park at midday, while she had been disposing of her ruined lunch? It would have been a perfect opportunity.

Or, failing that, surely the next time he visited Cartel Wines he could have made some excuse to—

No, she wouldn’t have been there.

Though he couldn’t have known that she was leaving.

Or could he?

Somewhere at the back of her mind, a memory, an impression, tried to struggle to the surface and she knew that if she could only recall what it was she would have the answer to her question.

She was still cudgelling her brains when Richard glanced at his watch and said briskly, ‘We ought to be starting for home. You must be famished and, as we’re being married tomorrow, we have a lot to do.’

Though she wanted to marry him more than anything in the world, a vague uneasiness still nagging at her, a feeling that something wasn’t quite right, she began, ‘I don’t understand why we have to rush into it like this…Couldn’t we wait until—?’

Just for an instant his beautiful mouth tightened. Then he said coaxingly, ‘You’ve agreed to marry me, we have a priest, a chapel and a marriage licence, so why wait?’

‘I’ve nothing to wear,’ she pointed out. ‘I need to go back to the flat and fetch some clothes—’

He bent his dark head and kissed her mouth, nipping delicately at her bottom lip, distracting her, as he whispered, ‘I’d rather have you without any clothes.’

Trying to collect herself and sound severe, she began, ‘That’s all very well, but I must have something to get married in—’

‘Failing anything else, you could always wear the dress you wore to dinner last night.’

‘But it got marked when we walked though the tunnel,’ she pleaded.

‘I’ll ask Hannah to see that all your things are laundered and we’ll make time to buy you a whole new wardrobe before we go on our honeymoon.’

Diverted, she asked, ‘Are we going on honeymoon?’

He looked surprised. ‘Of course. I thought we’d stick with the old tradition of spending our wedding night at Anders, in the nuptial bed…’

The nuptial bed… A little shiver of excitement ran down her spine.

‘Then go on to our chosen honeymoon destination the following day.’

It all sounded so solid, so conventional, that, her uneasiness taking flight, she teased, ‘I dare say you’ve already got it all arranged?’

He grinned appreciatively. ‘’Fraid not. I decided to find out where you wanted to go before I made any definite plans.’

‘How long will we be going for?’

‘A month. Longer if you wish…’

There was no harm in delaying the showdown; in fact it might be all to the good to allow a breathing space while they really got to know one other.

‘So, if you’d like to give it some thought and let me know,’ he added, ‘I’ll have Murray standing by.’

‘Murray?’

‘Captain Murray Tyler. I have a small private jet.’

That casual mention of owning his own plane made Tina realise afresh what a wealthy man she was marrying. But it wasn’t his money or his lifestyle that had attracted her. She would still have married him if he hadn’t had a penny.

‘We’d best be moving.’ He stood up and, taking her hands, pulled her to her feet. ‘Matthew Caradine, my solicitor, is coming at two o’clock.’

Surprised, she said, ‘On a Sunday?’

‘There are one or two things that need to be settled before tomorrow,’ he told her casually.

When they had both donned their riding hats, he lifted her into the saddle, swung himself up behind her and a moment later they were heading for home at a canter.

Admittedly it hadn’t been quite as easy as he might have hoped, but he had achieved what he’d set out to achieve. Tomorrow he would be her husband; he would be in a much stronger position once she’d signed the marriage contract that Matthew Caradine had drawn up.

When lunch was over Richard asked for coffee to be served in their suite and, an arm around Tina’s waist, escorted her up the stairs.

Once their coffee cups were empty, he said seriously, ‘When we get married I shall use the wedding ring my mother bought my father…’

Knowing that some men preferred to hide the fact that they were married, Tina was only too pleased that Richard wasn’t one of them.

‘Until we have time to go and choose your rings,’ he was going on, ‘I’d like you to use my mother’s. If you’re quite happy with that?’

‘Are you sure she wouldn’t have minded?’

‘I’m certain. It was her stated intention to give her rings to my future wife—should she want them, that is.’

A warm feeling spreading inside, Tina assured him, ‘Then, if they fit, I’d love to wear them.’

‘Of course I’m talking about the rings my father bought her. Bradley, who apparently was very jealous, hated to see her wearing them, so when they were married she took them off and kept them in her secret drawer along with my father’s wedding ring…’

He went over to the writing desk where, placed centrally above several small drawers faced with oyster shell and inlaid with box, their handles made of mother-of-pearl, was a shallow recess.

Tina watched with undisguised interest as, a hand at either end, he reached into the space and a moment later what had appeared to be a solid back slid forward to reveal a drawer some thirty centimetres long, twenty wide and ten deep.

From it he took a small box covered in dark blue velvet and flicked open the lid to show a heavy gold signet ring, a delicate chased gold wedding band and an exquisite matching diamond solitaire.

‘Her fingers were very slim, like yours, so I think they’ll fit.’

He took out the solitaire and, lifting Tina’s strong but slender left hand with its pearly oval nails, slid it on to the fourth finger.

It fitted perfectly and she caught her breath as the huge stone flashed with internal fire.

Nodding his approval, Richard replaced the box containing both the wedding rings and sent the secret drawer sliding back into the recess. It seemed to catch slightly before finally settling into place.

The long-case clock in the corner was just striking two o’clock and at that instant Milly tapped at the door to announce that the solicitor had arrived.

‘Coming?’ Richard cocked an eyebrow at Tina.

‘I thought I’d stay here while you—’

He shook his head firmly. ‘There’s one thing that concerns you.’

‘What kind of thing?’ she asked as they made their way back downstairs.

‘We need to agree on a suitable settlement in the event of a divorce.’

A cold chill ran down her spine. ‘Oh, but I—’

Seeing that involuntary shiver, he said reassuringly, ‘Don’t worry, it’s just a formality. But it’s something that has to be gone through.’

The solicitor was waiting in the study. Almost as tall as Richard but a good deal heavier, he was a pleasant-looking middle-aged man with greying hair and jowls.

‘Good of you to come at such short notice,’ Richard said as the two men shook hands.

He turned to Tina and, drawing her forward, went on, ‘Darling, this is Matthew Caradine…Matthew, my fiancée, Valentina Dunbar.’

The solicitor took Tina’s proffered hand with a friendly smile and said, ‘It’s nice to meet you, Miss Dunbar…’

Then, to Richard, ‘I’ve drawn up the necessary documents to cover all the points you mentioned.’

‘Good.’

‘There’s really only the one pertaining to your marriage that concerns Miss Dunbar and, as you requested, I’ve kept it simple. So, if you’d like to get that out of the way first?’

At Richard’s nod he opened his black briefcase and, taking out a single sheet of paper, handed it to Tina. ‘Perhaps you’d be good enough to read that and, if you’re satisfied with the contents, sign it?’

She took the document and, sitting down in one of the armchairs, proceeded to read it while the two men stood and watched her in silence.

It was, as the solicitor had said, short and simple. It stated that if, for whatever reason, they were divorced, while Richard would be happy to buy her a house and pay her maintenance—the amount was so generous it made her blink—she had to relinquish any claim to the castle.