The Tycoon's Marriage Deal

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  Mr Pendleton shook his head. ‘I couldn’t bear it. I hate goodbyes.’

  Yes, well, I’m not so fond of them, either.

  * * *

  Tillie was in the sitting room pacing the floor when Blake came in and dropped a kiss on her mouth before she could even say hello. ‘Hey, guess what?’ he said. ‘Jim’s agreed to sell me the Park.’

  She knew she should be feeling happy for him but instead she felt sad. This was it. The end of the affair. ‘You must be thrilled.’

  He frowned at her listless tone. ‘What’s wrong? We did it. You did it, actually.’ He gave a light chuckle. ‘You totally convinced the old man you were in love with me.’

  There was a beat of silence.

  ‘That’s because I am in love with you.’

  His expression flinched as if she’d slapped him. He stepped further away as if distancing himself from such raw emotion. ‘You don’t mean that.’ His voice had a rough edge to it. Harsh almost.

  Tillie had been expecting exactly this reaction but, even so, a frail hope had still managed to rise in her chest that he might feel the same way about her. ‘I do mean it, Blake. I know it’s not what you want to hear but I can’t help it. I had to tell you.’

  ‘Don’t do this, Tillie.’

  ‘What am I doing?’ she said. ‘You said I could call it off when it was time. Well, it’s time. You’ve got what you wanted. You’ve got back McClelland Park.’

  His jaw worked for a moment as if he were trying to avoid swallowing a marble. ‘Yes, but that doesn’t mean we have to end things right here and now.’

  ‘Then when will we end it? A week from now? A month? Two months?’

  ‘As long as we’re happy with how things are going—’

  ‘But I’m not happy,’ Tillie said. ‘I’m playing a role I wasn’t cut out for. I might be good at it but it’s not true to who I am. I want more than great sex. I want marriage and commitment and kids and—’

  ‘Hold on a minute.’ He held up a hand. ‘You told me you weren’t interested in any of that stuff any more. You said you were against marriage. You said no man would ever get you to wear a white dress and show up at church. Those were your exact words or close to them.’

  Tillie let out a shaky breath. ‘I know I said that. And I meant it at the time but—’

  ‘Yeah, well, I meant what I said back then and I still mean it,’ he said. ‘I’m not interested in marrying you or anyone. I was completely honest with you on that and now you tell me you want me to change? Well, guess what, sweetheart. Not going to happen.’ He strode to the other side of the room, standing in front of the fireplace with his hands gripping the mantelpiece so tightly as if he was going to tear it from its moorings.

  Tillie had thought reading that text from Simon was bad but this was something else again. Her heart felt as if it were being crushed until she could barely draw in a breath. Her throat was knotted with emotion. ‘Did these last weeks mean anything to you? Anything at all?’

  He swung back around to glare at her. ‘What’s happened from this morning in the shower to now? I seem to remember you were pretty happy about the terms of our fling then.’

  Tillie momentarily closed her eyes so she didn’t have to see the acrid bitterness of his gaze. But when she opened them he had turned his back on her and was leaning against the mantelpiece again.

  ‘Three things,’ she said. ‘I got a visit from Simon’s mother this morning.’ She saw the muscles of his back and shoulders stiffen. ‘He and his partner are having a baby.’

  Blake turned back to face her, his expression guarded. ‘Were you upset?’

  ‘No, not as much as I thought I would be, or should be,’ Tillie said. ‘But it made me realise I do want a family. Not just a kid with some random guy but with—’

  ‘No. No. No.’ His words were like a nail gun firing into a slab of timber.

  ‘Blake, at least hear me out,’ she said. ‘I haven’t told you about the second and third things.’

  ‘Go on.’ His lips barely moved as he spoke and he had his granite face back on.

  She took another breath. ‘My parents finally emailed me. They congratulated me on my engagement but I couldn’t help feeling it was my being able to forgive Simon that was their main concern. Not whether I was happy and fulfilled but as long as I had done the right thing by Simon.’

  ‘You can’t change people so don’t bother—’

  ‘I’m not interested in changing my parents,’ Tillie said. ‘Anyway, I’m the one who’s changed. I know what I want now and I’m not afraid of asking for it. You’re the one who taught me that, Blake.’

  His expression was still so stony it could have doubled for a retaining wall. ‘You mentioned a third thing.’

  ‘The third thing is I went to see Mr Pendleton after work. He asked me what I wanted. Whether I wanted to live here with you and make babies and I realised that’s exactly what I want. I want that more than anything.’

  He closed his eyes, as if hoping she wouldn’t be standing there saying such things when he opened them again. ‘I’m sorry, Tillie. But I can’t give you the fairy tale. I told you that right from the start. I’m not—’

  ‘I know, I know, I know,’ she said. ‘You’re not the settling-down type. Well, here’s the thing. I am. Which means we are at an impasse.’

  He rubbed at his face as if he could erase the last few minutes. ‘So you’re ending our fling.’

  ‘That was the plan, wasn’t it? That I would be the one to call time?’

  He gave a laugh that was a long way from amusement. ‘Your timing sure could do with some work.’

  So could your attitude.

  ‘What? You wanted me to go out and celebrate with you on successfully achieving your goal?’ Tillie asked. ‘I can’t do that, Blake. I won’t do it. I’ve felt compromised the whole time we’ve run with this charade. I never wanted it in the first place. You forced it on me with your...your damned generosity, which isn’t really generosity because you’re so rich you probably don’t even notice the dip in your bank account.’

  ‘I’m not going to stand here and apologise for being successful.’

  ‘You might be successful in terms of money and business but you’re not successful where it counts,’ she said. ‘You’ve got this house back. Well done. But what about when you’re Mr Pendleton’s age? What then? Who is going to be there for you? Or will you have to pay someone or blackmail someone?’

  A muscle beat a pulse in his face like a tiny fist punching its way through his cheek. His eyes were so smoky and grey they looked like brooding storm clouds. ‘I think you’ve made your position clear. Do you want me to help you pack or have you already done so?’

  How could he be so cruel? So cold and unfeeling? As if she were a guest who had outstayed her welcome. But maybe that was exactly what she was. A visitor in his life. A passing fancy he had indulged in to achieve a goal but now he was done with her. He didn’t need her. He didn’t want her.

  He didn’t love her.

  ‘I’ll go and do it now,’ Tillie said without showing any of the emotion that was climbing up her throat. Pride had got her into this mess and pride would get her out of it. ‘But you’ll have to mind Truffles because I can’t take her to a hotel. Once I sort out some accommodation I’ll make arrangements to come and get her.’

  ‘Fine.’

  * * *

  Blake took the dog for a walk so he didn’t have to see Tillie leaving. Why did she have to choose today to end their fling? He was supposed to be celebrating the successful buy-back of his home and now she’d ruined it by insisting they end their affair. That it was almost time on the month they’d agreed on wasn’t the issue. It was the fact she’d dropped that I-love-you-and-want-to-have-babies-with-you bomb. He couldn’t have made it clearer to her he wasn’t the poster boy for marriage. He had made no promises, given her no false leads, told no lies. He’d been brutally honest and now she was telling him she wanted him to be the prince in
her fairy tale.

  But the main thing was he had McClelland Park back. That was what he should be focussing on, not the fact Tillie had called time.

  Truffles pricked up her ears at the sound of Tillie’s car moving down the ribbon of the driveway and she whined and cocked her head from side to side as if in confusion. Blake reached down and held her collar just in case she took chase. ‘She’ll be back for you, Truffles.’

  The dog strained against his hold and whined again, every muscle in her body poised to spring off in pursuit.

  ‘Yeah, I know the feeling,’ Blake said. ‘But believe me, you’ll get over it.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  TILLIE HAD THOUGHT facing everybody after she’d been jilted had been tough, but when news got out her engagement to Blake was over she was besieged by disappointment from everyone in the village. It was brilliant for business as people came into the shop on the pretext of buying cakes, and, once they had their goodies bought and packaged, they would offer a word or two—or a few lengthy paragraphs—on why they were so devastated on her behalf as they thought Blake was perfect for her. Her profits shot up and she had to do extra time in the kitchen to keep up. She had even managed to attract a growing celebrate-a-break-up clientele. Tragic that somehow she was the poster girl for broken relationships, but she embraced it and added a new page to her website.

  Tillie had managed to secure a pet-friendly rental property in the village and Blake had dropped the dog off while Tillie was at work. The fact he hadn’t waited till she got home was both a relief and a bitter disappointment. So he didn’t want to see her? Fine. She didn’t want to see him, either.

  The house she was renting was more of a housesitting arrangement but that suited her, as she wanted some time to think about what she would do next. She didn’t want to pack up and leave the village, but if this intense focus on her love life, or lack thereof, continued she would go send-for-a-straitjacket mad.

  Mr Pendleton had moved into the care facility, and, while it was a nice place with lovely staff—most of whom he knew in one way or the other—Tillie was conscious it was not home for him. How could it be? He couldn’t have Truffles there and he seemed a little more dejected each day she visited.

  McClelland Park had been signed over to Blake but that was all she’d heard or seen of him since he’d texted to say he’d dropped off Truffles.

  Joanne was the only one who didn’t commiserate with her. ‘I think you should have stuck with him until he realised he was in love with you,’ she said.

  ‘But he’s not in love with me,’ Tillie said, putting the last touches on a divorce party cake.

  Never was.

  Never will be.

  ‘Then why has he not been seen out with anyone else since your break-up?’ Joanne pointed at the effigy of the ex on the top of the cake they were decorating. ‘This guy’s been seen out with four women since he separated from Gina. Bastard.’

  Tillie drove a metal skewer through the groin of the marzipan figure. ‘There. That should slow him down at bit.’

  ‘Why haven’t you made a break-up cake for yourself?’ Joanne asked after a moment. ‘We could have a party. I’ll help you with the catering. You don’t have to pay me. I’ll do it for free.’

  Tillie stood back from her handiwork. ‘I don’t need to get Blake McClelland out of my system. I’m over him.’

  Not quite true. She spent most nights tossing in bed feeling empty and hollow. Her body missed him in every cell and pore. She sometimes felt she could still feel him moving inside her but then she would wake from that dream and realise with a sinking feeling he wasn’t in the bed beside her. His arms weren’t wrapped around her; his chin wasn’t resting on the top of her head.

  She was alone.

  ‘Then why are you still wearing his ring?’

  Tillie looked down at the diamond on her hand. For some reason, in spite of the weight she’d lost over the last two weeks, it was still firmly lodged on her finger. ‘I haven’t had time to have it cut off, that’s why. But as soon as I get it off I’m going to give it back to him.’

  * * *

  Blake called on his father the day McClelland Park was officially signed over to him. He figured the last two weeks of misery he’d gone through would be worth it to see his dad’s face when he presented the deeds to the house to him. Misery he hadn’t expected to feel—misery that had eaten at his guts until he could barely take in food or water.

  He didn’t understand what was wrong with him. He’d been the one to draw up the month-long plan with Tillie. Surely by now he should be feeling it was worth it.

  ‘Dad, I want you to come with me for the weekend. I have a surprise for you.’

  Andrew McClelland looked faintly sheepish. ‘Now’s not a good time for me. I have...something on this weekend.’

  Blake frowned. ‘Since when have you had something on a weekend? Every time I come here you’re sitting staring blankly at the walls.’

  His dad kept holding the front door of his town house in London only slightly ajar as if he was hiding something. ‘Can we make it another time?’

  Maybe his dad was doing his sad recluse thing, where he would lock the doors and close the blinds and not see or speak to anyone for days. Blake glanced at the window where his father’s bedroom was situated. Yep, blinds down. ‘Come on, Dad. I’ve been planning this for weeks. Surely nothing you’re doing is that important. Some fresh air and sunshine will do you good.’

  ‘I have someone with me just now.’

  Someone? What someone? Blake frowned so hard he could have cracked a walnut between his brows. ‘What’s going on?’

  His dad’s cheeks had more colour in them than Blake had seen in years. ‘I’m entertaining a guest.’

  His dad was entertaining a guest? The man who had lived alone and refused to even go out shopping was entertaining someone? The man who consistently refused to come to any of the dinners and bridge parties and gatherings Blake organised for him in order to get him socialising a bit more actually had someone over? ‘Who?’

  ‘A lady I met at the heart rehab centre,’ his father said. ‘A widow. She lost her husband when she was in her thirties and hasn’t been out with anyone since. We’ve struck up a friendship, well, more than a friendship. Can you come back some other time?’

  Great. His dad was now officially having more sex than he was. Not that Blake wanted to have sex with anyone. Not since Tillie had ended their fling. Sex with someone else was the last thing on his mind. He got sick to the stomach thinking about getting it on with someone else. He couldn’t imagine kissing or touching them the way he longed to be touching Tillie.

  ‘I was going to tell you but you’ve been so preoccupied lately,’ his dad said.

  Preoccupied? I guess you could call it that.

  ‘Dad, I bought back McClelland Park,’ Blake said. ‘I’ve been working on it for the last month. You have your home back. You can go back and live there any time you like. It’s yours. I have the deeds here and—’

  ‘Oh, Blake, I don’t know what to say...’ His dad’s expression clouded. ‘It’s a wonderful gesture. Truly wonderful and typical of you to always think of me. But I can’t go back.’

  Can’t go back?

  What did he mean, he couldn’t go back? Blake had turned inside out and back to front to get that damn property back. How could his dad not want to live there? ‘But you love that place,’ Blake said. ‘It’s your home. The place where you were the happiest and where—’

  ‘It ceased to be home once your mum died,’ his dad said. ‘That part of my life is over. I’m finally moving on. If I were to go and live there now it would be like going backwards. I loved everything about that place, but without your mother it’s nothing to me. It’s just a big old empty house.’

  ‘But it wouldn’t be empty if you lived there with your new lady friend,’ Blake said. ‘You could set up a nice home together and—’

  ‘I could, but that would be doing what you thin
k is best for me instead of what I think is best for me,’ his dad said. ‘I know it’s been tough on you these last twenty-four years. I’ve been a terrible burden on you and I want that to stop. Right here. Right now.’

  Blake swallowed back his disappointment but it stuck in his throat like a tyre jack. His father didn’t want McClelland Park? He had worked so hard to get that place back...for...for nothing? He had compromised himself. Stepped over personal boundaries, got caught up in a relationship with Tillie that he should be well and truly over by now.

  ‘Blake, please,’ his dad said. ‘Will you just go? I’m okay. You don’t have to babysit me any more. I’ll call you in a day or two and Susie and I will have you over to dinner. You can bring someone if you like. Are you seeing anyone at the moment?’

  So now his dad was organising Blake’s social life for him? Weird. Just so damn weird. ‘No one special.’

  ‘Oh, well, just come on your own, then,’ his dad said. ‘We won’t mind.’

  No. But I will.

  * * *

  Tillie could see storm clouds brewing all Friday afternoon when she was working on the last touches of a cake for a client for a wedding on the Saturday. The power had threatened to go off a couple of times and she couldn’t stop thinking about Truffles back at the cottage she was housesitting. Truffles hated storms. She hid under furniture or cowered in corners and whimpered as if the end of the world were at hand. It was distressing enough to watch, but not being there to make sure the poor dog was all right was a different type of torture altogether.

  Tillie rushed back to the cottage early, leaving Joanne to close up the shop. The wind was howling and whipping the branches of the trees along the street as she approached. But when she arrived outside the cottage her heart came to a juddering halt. The gate leading to the front path was not just open but hanging off its hinges and a limb of one of the ornamental trees was lying across the pathway. Doing her best to shelter from the wind-driven pellets of rain and hail, Tillie dashed around to the back garden but there was no sign of the dog.