The Tycoon's Marriage Deal

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  Damn, he loved to see a woman who could still blush.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, avoiding his gaze.

  ‘My pleasure.’ He put his hand underneath her chin and raised her eyes to his. ‘You have great legs, by the way.’

  The colour in her face deepened three shades. ‘Look, Mr McClelland, I—’

  ‘That’s a bit formal for an engaged couple, don’t you think?’

  Her brown eyes simmered like overheated caramel. Her gaze slipped to his mouth and she drew in a jagged breath and the tip of her tongue darted out and left a layer of moisture over her lips. ‘B-Blake, then,’ she said in a voice as raspy as the emery board sitting on the bathroom counter.

  Blake slid a hand along the side of her face to splay his fingers underneath her cloud of springy chestnut hair that smelt of sweet peas. He felt her shudder as if his touch had set off an involuntary tremor in her body. She was so close he could feel her hips brushing against his, stirring his blood into doing push ups. Could she feel what she was doing to him? He looked between each of her eyes in a back and forth motion, watching as her pupils flared like spilled ink.

  She could.

  Tillie’s hands came up to lie flat on his chest, her luscious breasts pressing against him until it was all he could do not to bury his face in the cleavage hidden behind her conservative cotton blouse. He wanted to kiss her. Badly. But he wanted it to be her idea, not something she could accuse him of setting up.

  He put his hands on her upper arms and gently put her from him. ‘So, here’s what I think we should tell people. We met a while back and recently fell madly in love.’

  She gave him the sort of look a hardened sceptic gave a faith healer. ‘Met where?’

  ‘Where everyone meets these days—online.’

  ‘I don’t meet people like that,’ she said. ‘I prefer the old-fashioned way of actually seeing a person in the flesh first.’

  Blake began to undo his top buttons of his shirt.

  Her eyes rounded until her eyebrows almost met her hairline. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Allowing you to meet me in the flesh.’

  She whipped around and stalked out of the bathroom. ‘You’re unbelievable. You think you’re so damn irresistible, don’t you?’ She turned back around to flash him a glare as hot as a flame. ‘Well, guess what, Blake McClelland? This is one scalp you won’t be able to add to your well-worn bedpost.’ She pointed her finger towards the front door. ‘Now get out before I set the dog on you.’

  Blake glanced at Truffles, who was lying on the floor chewing on a ballet flat that was looking more like a dead animal than a shoe. The dog stopped chewing and wagged its tail back and forth along the floor like a fluffy broom and gave a soft little whine.

  Blake looked back at Tillie. ‘Look, I’m fine with us not sleeping together during our engagement. It’s not a mandatory part of the deal. But I still think I should stay here for the sake of appearances.’

  There was a small silence.

  ‘Why isn’t it?’ she asked, cheeks darkening again. ‘Don’t you...fancy me?’

  He fancied her too damn much. He couldn’t think of the last time he’d felt so turned on by a woman. Maybe it was because she was resisting him. Dating had become a little too easy over the years. It didn’t take much of an effort to get a woman into his bed. Was that why he was feeling a bit bored by it all just lately? The dinner-drink-bed combo was foolproof but predictable. This whiff of a new challenge made his blood tick and his pulse race. Or maybe it wasn’t so much the challenge, but the fact it was Tillie.

  ‘Come back over here and I’ll prove it,’ he said.

  She pressed her lips together until they were white. ‘You’re laughing at me. I know you are.’ She turned her back and hugged her arms around her middle. ‘Please leave.’

  Blake came back over to her and stood behind her with his hands resting on the tops of her shoulders. She flinched like a flighty filly as if torn between wanting to be stroked and wanting to flee. ‘Hey,’ he said.

  She dipped out from under his hold and cast him a look that would have stripped three centuries of paintwork off the walls. ‘I want out of this engagement before I’m made a laughing stock. Again.’

  ‘Declaring bankruptcy would be worse.’

  Uncertainty passed over her features and her teeth sank into her lower lip. But then a defiant spark came back in her gaze. ‘I’ll sell your ring and pay off my debts that way.’

  ‘You could,’ Blake said, with a slow smile. ‘But you’d have to get it off your finger first.’

  Her anger was so palpable he could feel it crackling in the air like static. Her eyes blazed and her fists clenched and her body vibrated. She whooshed out a breath. ‘It seems I haven’t got much choice but to go along with this. Too many people already think we’re engaged and I’ll look an idiot if I retract what I’ve said so far. If you pay off my debts I’ll agree to this stupid charade, but there have to be some ground rules laid down first.’

  Blake wondered what had finally swayed her. Was it just the money she owed? It was certainly an amount that would be enough for the average person to lose a little sleep over. Was it about losing face in the village? Or was it because of her affection for old Mr Pendleton—she didn’t want to upset him so was prepared to run with the charade? Or did she plan to resist Blake to prove a point? Who did she want to prove it to? To him or herself?

  ‘Scan and email the bills to me and I’ll sort them out this evening,’ he said. ‘And as to rules—the only one I insist on is whenever we’re out in public you behave like a woman in love.’

  Her eyes fired off another round of sparks. ‘And what about when we’re alone?’

  ‘I’ll leave that to you to decide.’

  Her chin jerked up. ‘I’ve already decided. I wouldn’t sleep with you if you paid me.’

  ‘I’m not in the habit of paying for sex,’ Blake said.

  Her teeth started to tug at her lower lip as if the mere thought of the money she owed was enough to send her into a spiralling panic bad enough to invite an axe murderer to move in as long as he settled her debt. She released her lip and returned her gaze to his. ‘You can move in tomorrow once I’ve had time to prepare a room. But you need to know, I’m not usually the sort of girl to live with someone I’ve only just met.’

  ‘Did you live with your ex?’

  ‘No...not really.’

  Blake frowned. ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘I rented a cottage at Simon’s parents’ estate but he didn’t share it with me,’ she said. ‘His parents were a bit old-fashioned about that sort of thing.’

  Why couldn’t they have let it to her for free? Local gossip informed him Simon’s parents weren’t as wealthy as he was, but neither were they sitting on street corners with a tin cup in their hand. ‘You rented it?’ he said.

  ‘Yes.’ Her jaw clenched and her eyes flashed as if the memory annoyed her. ‘And they didn’t give me back the bond after I moved out. His mother said I scratched her precious walnut coffee table but I did no such thing. Not that I didn’t wish I had afterwards. I wanted to take a pickaxe to the whole damn cottage until there was nothing left but kindling.’

  Blake suppressed a smile. Tillie might have a reputation as a mild-mannered angel but it didn’t take much to scratch that Goody Two-Shoes façade to find a passionate and feisty little virago inside. ‘Sounds like you had a lucky escape. Once I move in tomorrow, I’ll take you out to dinner. It’ll be a way to let the locals know we’re the real deal.’

  Her brown eyes narrowed. ‘Just dinner, right?’

  ‘Just dinner.’

  * * *

  Once Blake had left, Tillie stalked back into the sitting room and let out a curse word. Three curse words. Words she had never said before. Words that would have made her God-fearing father have a conniption if he’d heard her.

  Blake McClelland was the most infuriating man she’d ever met—infuriating and way too charming and attrac
tive. She had been so close to making a fool of herself—acting like a gauche schoolgirl mooning over his mouth as if she was gagging for him to kiss her. She had been just about gagging, but that was beside the point.

  Truffles came into the sitting room and jumped on the sofa to look out of the window as if checking to see where Blake had gone and started whining piteously.

  ‘Oh, for pity’s sake,’ Tillie said to the dog. ‘Did you have to make such a fool of yourself with him? You’re supposed to be on my side.’

  Truffles gave a doggy sigh and flopped down on the sofa, resting her muzzle on her paws and giving another my-world-is-over whine.

  Tillie flicked her eyelids in disdain. ‘You might think he’s the best thing since those dog treats I baked for you, but I know what he’s up to. He thinks he can hook me like he hooks all his other lovers. Well, he’s in for a big surprise because he could crook that little finger of his all he likes. Unlike you, I can resist him.’

  She had the willpower. She had the discipline. She had the self-control.

  He thought he could toy with her to fill in the time until he secured his deal over the property. She was going to give that overblown confidence of his a wake-up call. If he thought he could stride into town and pick her up like a cake off the counter then he was in for a big disappointment. He could take her out to a hundred dinners—a thousand. He could move into the house but she was not going to sleep with him.

  But she would make everyone think she was.

  Tillie was determined to show everyone in the village she had the ability to attract a full-blooded man. Even Mr Pendleton would be convinced once she executed her plan. No one would call her old-fashioned and too conservative once she had been seen out and about with Blake McClelland. Her Goody Two-Shoes reputation was in for a rapid makeover.

  She would continue to hate him behind closed doors. Hate and dislike and loathe him. A pity about the issue of her physical attraction to him, but still—she couldn’t win them all. He could pay her debts and she wouldn’t suffer a flicker of conscience about him doing so. If he wanted her to act like a woman in love in public then that was what she would do—with bells and whistles and hearts and flowers.

  Tillie turned back to the dog and smiled a witch-stirring-a-cauldron smile. ‘I’m going to lay it on so thick and so cloyingly sweet he won’t know what hit him.’

  * * *

  Blake visited Mr Pendleton the following day with a gift of a new bestseller and a small bottle of Scotch. The old man narrowed his eyes when Blake came in. ‘I wondered when you were going to show up again. What’s this I hear about you giving Tillie an engagement ring? You think I’m so stupid not to see what you’re doing?’

  Blake sat in the chair beside the bed and crossed one ankle over his thigh. ‘And here I was thinking you were a romantic. Didn’t you tell me you fell in love with your wife within minutes of meeting her?’

  Mr Pendleton’s features softened a fraction at the mention of his wife. ‘Yes, well, they don’t make women like my Velma these days... Mind you, Tillie comes close.’ His expression sharpened again and his eyes bored into Blake’s. ‘She’s a good girl. Too good for the likes of you.’

  Blake couldn’t help feeling a spike of irritation. Admittedly he had a bit of a reputation as a playboy, but neither was he out there robbing banks or ripping off little old ladies. ‘Surely Tillie should be the judge of that, not you or the rest of the village.’

  The old man shook his head. ‘Thing is... I’m not sure Tillie knows what she wants. She saved up for years for that wedding. The dress alone cost a fortune and I have it on good authority she only chose the design because Simon’s mother pressured her. I offered to help her with the money she owes but she won’t take it off me.’

  ‘I’ve sorted out all that for her,’ Blake said. ‘You don’t have to worry about it any more.’

  Mr Pendleton’s gaze still contained a glittering sheen of you-can’t-fool-me cynicism. ‘Have you moved in with her yet?’

  ‘I’m heading over there tonight. Thanks for giving the okay about it, by the way.’

  ‘You must be more charming than I thought. Have you set a wedding date?’

  ‘We’re still getting used to being a couple,’ Blake said. ‘I don’t want to rush her after her last relationship.’

  Mr Pendleton made a phhfft noise. ‘Call that a relationship? That boy didn’t even sleep with her. She’s as untouched as a nun.’ He gave Blake another probing look. ‘I bet a man like you wouldn’t settle for a peck on the cheek and a bit of tame handholding. That’s how I knew he wasn’t right for her. I know he’s a man of faith and all that, but chemistry is chemistry. You either have it as a couple or you don’t.’

  Blake was doing his level best to disguise his shock.

  Tillie was a virgin?

  How had she got to her mid-twenties without having sex? He’d heard via Mrs Rosethorne at the B&B Tillie had been engaged to her fiancé for three years and dated him since she was sixteen. Surely her fiancé would have pushed for more? Even a man of faith had hormones, didn’t he? Was that why she reacted to Blake the way she did? With that hungry look in her eyes, as if someone was offering her something she had longed denied herself?

  Wait a minute.

  Blake wished his conscience hadn’t shown up for duty. How could he have a fling with her if she was a virgin? He didn’t do virgins. Virgins were rosy-cheeked princesses waiting for princes to show up on a white horse. Virgins wanted the whole package: marriage and babies and a white picket fence.

  He wasn’t signing up for any of that.

  Not one bit of it.

  Mr Pendleton gave Blake the squinty eye. ‘Everything all right? You want me to call the nurse? You’re looking a little pale.’

  Blake forced a smile and got to his feet. ‘I have to get going. Call me if you change your mind about the Park.’

  Mr Pendleton snorted. ‘Tillie might fall for your charm but I’m not so much of a pushover. I’ll sell when I’m good and ready and not a moment before.’

  Blake stalled by the end of the old man’s bed. ‘Will you at least give me your word you won’t sell it to anyone else?’

  The old man’s gaze was unwavering. ‘Will you give me your word you won’t break Tillie’s heart?’

  Blake tried not to flinch under the old man’s piercing scrutiny. ‘You never know—she might be the one to break mine.’

  Mr Pendleton gave a mercurial smile. ‘I hope so.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  TILLIE WAS IN the shop serving one of her regulars when Blake came in that afternoon. She had so far survived Mrs Jeffries’s questions about how she had met Blake and how he’d proposed—with a good bit of embellishment, of course.

  She handed Mrs Jeffries her date and ginger scones over the counter. ‘Ah, here he is now.’ Tillie sent Blake a dazzling smile and gave him a little finger wave. ‘Hello, sweetie pie. I was just telling Mrs Jeffries how romantic your proposal was. How you got down on bended knee and begged for me to say yes. I told her you had a little cry when I did. Well, not just a little cry.’ She looked at Mrs Jeffries again. ‘He was bawling his eyes out. I was about to call for sand bags to stop him flooding the joint. I’ve never seen a man so in touch with his emotions. Wasn’t that awfully sweet?’

  Mrs Jeffries made oohing and aahing sounds. ‘Everyone’s so happy for you, Tillie.’

  Blake was a terrifyingly good actor, for he simply smiled. Tillie knew he wouldn’t let her get away with it for too long, but, in a way, that was part of the thrill of doing it. She wanted to spar with him. Their verbal exchanges excited her in a way no one else’s conversation had before. She saw the I’ll-get-you-for-that-later glint in his grey-blue eyes and a shiver coursed down her spine like the tickle of a strip of tinsel paper.

  ‘Aren’t you going to kiss me hello, babe?’ he said. ‘I’m sure Mrs Jeffries won’t mind.’

  ‘Of course not,’ Mrs Jeffries said, smiling indulgently.

  Tillie
came from behind the counter. What harm was there in a chaste brush of the lips? Actors did it all the time and much more than that, too. She came to stand in front of him and planted her hands on his chest and looked into his wickedly glinting eyes.

  Better get it over with.

  She closed her eyes halfway and lifted her mouth to his descending one.

  The first brush of his mouth against hers sent a frisson of heat right through to her core. The second brush wasn’t a brush—it was a lingering pressure that made her lips open on a gasp and allow his tongue to glide in with such toe-curling expertise every cell in her body jerked upright as if jolted awake from a long sleep. His tongue grazed hers, calling it into a sexy duel that made her knees feel as if someone had taken her bones out. She leaned into his embrace, another cascading shiver going down her spine when his strongly muscled arms gathered her closer. His hands moved from the small of her back to cup her rear, bringing her flush against him. She could feel the growing ridge of his erection, thick and urgent, speaking to her feminine form with such primal power it was almost shocking.

  How could she be responding to him like this? She didn’t even like him and yet her body craved his as an addict did a forbidden drug.

  Tillie wasn’t sure who broke the kiss but she had a sneaking suspicion it might have been him. She lowered herself off her tippy toes and smiled. ‘Well, nice to know you’re pleased to see me.’

  Blake’s smile told her he wasn’t finished with her yet. ‘Always, babe. Always.’

  Mrs Jeffries left the shop just as Joanne came in from her lunch break. Joanne’s face broke into a wide smile. ‘Hi, Blake. Congratulations, by the way. Best news ever.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I think so too. I’ve called in to take Tillie out for a drive. Can you hold the fort for half an hour?’

  ‘But I’ve got to—’ Tillie began.

  ‘Sure, no problem,’ Joanne said. ‘Tillie was about to have a break anyway. Have fun!’

  When they stepped outside, Blake held out his hand and Tillie had no choice but to slip hers into it because there were villagers about doing their errands at the various shops along her section of the street. His hand was warm and dry and almost swallowed hers whole. There was a faintly erotic undercurrent in the way he held her hand. His thumb was absently—it might not have been absently but deliberately—stroking the flesh until every nerve was tinglingly aware of each back and forth movement of his thumb-pad. She was annoyed with herself for being so damn responsive to his touch. Surely there was something wrong with her? It wasn’t normal to be so...so...sensually aware...was it?