Tycoon's Forbidden Cinderella

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  ‘No. Goodnight.’

  * * *

  Audrey came downstairs to the kitchen the following morning to find Lucien already packed and ready to go. ‘Forget about breakfast,’ he said. ‘We’re leaving.’

  Her stomach pitched as if she were already in the helicopter. In a nosedive. ‘What? Now?’

  ‘I’ve managed to get a local farmer to meet us at the bridge. He’s going to get us across on his tractor and then we’ll pick up a hire car in the village.’

  ‘So we’re not going in the helicopter?’ Relief swept through her like a rinse cycle through a load of laundry.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why did you change your mind about it?’

  ‘I don’t want to draw too much attention to ourselves. The fewer people who know we’ve spent the night here together, the better.’

  Audrey’s relief collided with her anger that he disliked being seen with her in public so much. Was she so hideous he couldn’t bear anyone finding out they’d ‘spent the night here together’?

  She bet he wouldn’t be all cloak and dagger about it if it was Viviana holed up here with him. He’d be hiring the biggest helicopter on offer and parading Viviana on his arm like a trophy. He’d probably announce it on a megaphone: Hey, look who I spent the night with—Viviana Prestonward, the most beautiful supermodel on the planet.

  It made Audrey want to puke...or to punch something. ‘You know, if it pains you that much to be in my company, why then are you insisting on taking me with you? I can find my own way back to London to do my own search and you can do yours.’

  ‘Aren’t you forgetting your car is out of action and likely to be for some time?’

  ‘I can hire one.’

  A look of grim determination entered his gaze. ‘No. We stick to my plan to do this together. It’ll add more weight if we show a united front once we find them. I think you might be right about St Remy. My father’s been there a few times over the last couple of years, so it’s highly likely they’ve headed there.’

  Audrey rubbed her lips together as if she were setting lipstick. Why was he insisting she go with him if he didn’t want to draw attention to them? Wasn’t taking her with him going to cause all sorts of trouble for him? ‘What about Viviana?’

  ‘What about her?’

  ‘What’s she going to think of us spending all this time together?’

  A flicker of something passed over his face. ‘She’s not the jealous type.’

  Audrey arched a brow. ‘Would that be because I’m not slim and beautiful like she is?’

  Lucien closed his eyes in a slow God-give-me-strength blink. ‘Get your bag. The farmer will be waiting for us by now.’

  * * *

  Lucien drove with Audrey a short time later to the bridge, where the local farmer was waiting on the other side with his tractor. There was a hire car parked on the other side as well, presumably left by the company for them to collect. Audrey had to admire Lucien’s organisational skills, but then she realised how determined he was to put a stop to his father’s marriage to her mother. He wouldn’t let even a broken bridge get in his way.

  The farmer gave them a wave and they pulled up on the side of the lane and proceeded to cross the river a metre or so away from where the bridge had come down. The tractor climbed up the other bank with a rumbling roar and came to a stop next to where Audrey and Lucien were standing. She recognised the farmer from previous visits to the village and expressed her thanks for his helping them.

  ‘No problem, Audrey lass,’ Jim Gordon said. ‘Hold on tight when you get on, now. The water’s not deep but the bottom is a little uneven in places.’

  Lucien handed Jim Audrey’s overnight bag and her tote and then came to stand behind her to help her get on the tractor by putting his hands on her hips. His touch—even through her clothes—made her senses do cartwheels. She put her foot on the metal step and gave a spring that would have got her nowhere if it hadn’t been for the gentle nudge of his hands. She wriggled to take her place on the back of the tractor and Lucien jumped up next to her and wrapped a firm arm around her waist to keep her secure. ‘Okay?’

  Audrey was so breathless from his closeness she could barely get her voice to do much more than squeak. ‘Okay.’

  Jim set the tractor on its way and soon they were across to the other side of the river. Lucien jumped down and, once he had her bags off and on the ground next to him, he held out his hands for her. She placed her hands on his shoulders and he put his hands on her waist and lifted her down as if she weighed less than a child.

  For a moment they stood with his hands on her waist and hers on his shoulders. Audrey’s gaze met his and it was as if someone had pressed ‘pause’ on time. Even the birds in the nearby shrubs seemed to have stopped twittering. The blue of his eyes was mesmerising, the touch of his hands making her aware of how close to him she was standing. His thighs were almost brushing hers. She could feel his body warmth like the glow of a radiator. His gaze lowered to her mouth for a brief moment, his hands tightening on her waist as if he was about to bring her even closer. Her heart gave an extra beat as if she’d had one too many energy drinks. She looked at his mouth and something in her belly fluttered like the pages of a book in a playful breeze. She swallowed and moistened her lips but the moment was broken by the sound of the tractor being placed in gear.

  Lucien relaxed his hold and stepped back from her and turned to Jim. ‘Thanks again, Jim. Really appreciate your help.’

  ‘The hire-car people left the keys in the ignition when they dropped it off,’ Jim said, nodding towards the car parked to one side. ‘And I’ll get the wheels moving on getting young Audrey’s car towed to the workshop as you asked.’

  Audrey felt like a helpless female surrounded by big, strong, capable men who were taking care of everything for her. She mentally apologised to her emancipated self and lapped it up. She followed Lucien to the hire car and he held the door open for her and helped her in.

  Once he was behind the wheel, she said, ‘If you drop me at the nearest train station I’ll make my way back to—’

  ‘Have you got your passport in your bag?’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  He gave her a glance that made something in her belly turn over. ‘St Remy, here we come.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  LUCIEN KNEW IT was probably a bad idea to take Audrey with him to the south of France but he needed her there to make sure Sibella and his father understood how vehemently they were against their marriage. It was a bad idea to be anywhere near Audrey. He had to help her on and off the tractor, but did he have to stand there staring at her mouth like a punch-drunk teenager anticipating his first kiss?

  He had to get his hands off her and get a grip on himself.

  But he would be lying if he said it hadn’t felt good holding her close like that. Seeing the way her nutmeg-brown eyes widened and the way her tongue swept over her lips as if preparing for the descent of his mouth.

  And he’d been pretty damn close to doing it too.

  He’d been lost in a moment of mad lust. Feeling her breasts within inches of his chest, imagining what it would feel like to have them pressed against him skin-to-skin. Feeling her thighs so close to his, imagining them wrapped around his as he entered her velvet warmth. He had always dated super-slim women but something about her womanly figure made everything that was male in him sit up and take notice. He was ashamed of his reaction to her, especially as he was supposed to be ‘involved’ with Viviana.

  But that was no excuse to be lusting over Audrey. He wasn’t like his father, who got his head turned by sexy women even when he was involved with someone else. He was too strong-willed to let the ripe and sensuous curves of Audrey’s body and her supple and generous mouth unravel his self-control like a ball of string.

  Way too strong-willed.

  He h
oped.

  * * *

  Audrey considered refusing to go with Lucien to France but without a car and no spare cash to hire one she knew her search for her mother and Harlan would grind to a halt. The thought of spending the weekend at her flat with nothing better to do than watch her flatmate, Rosie, get ready to go out with her latest boyfriend was not appealing. Well, not as appealing as a weekend in St Remy. It had nothing to do with going with Lucien Fox. Nothing at all. St Remy was the attraction. She hadn’t been to the south of France in ages.

  But when they arrived at the airport in London, Audrey was shocked to find a small group of paparazzi waiting for them. ‘Oh, no...’ she said, glancing at Lucien. ‘How on earth did they find us?’

  His expression was so grim he could have moonlighted as a gravedigger. ‘Who knows? But don’t say anything. Leave it to me.’

  He helped her out of the car as the press gang came bustling over. ‘Lucien? Audrey? Can we have a quick word? What do you two think about your respective parents Harlan and Sibella remarrying for the third time?’

  ‘No comment.’ Lucien’s tone was as curt as a prison guard’s.

  ‘Audrey?’ The journalist aimed his recording device at her instead. ‘So, what’s going on between you and Lucien Fox?’

  ‘Nothing’s going on,’ Audrey said, feeling a blush steal over her cheeks like a measles rash.

  ‘Is it true you spent last night alone together down at your mother’s cottage in the Cotswolds?’

  Audrey mentally gulped. Had someone seen them? Had Jim Gordon said something to someone? She glanced at Lucien but his expression was as closed as a bank vault. She turned back to the journalist. ‘No comment.’

  ‘What does Viviana Prestonward think of your cosy relationship with your step-sibling Audrey Merrington, Lucien?’ another journalist asked with a nudge-nudge, wink-wink, say no more look.

  Audrey was sure she heard Lucien’s back molars grind together. ‘At the risk of repeating myself—no comment,’ he said through lips that were so tight you couldn’t have squeezed a slip of paper through. He took Audrey by the arm and led her further inside the terminal to the check-in area. ‘I told you not to say anything.’

  ‘I didn’t say anything—well, nothing you didn’t say, that is.’

  ‘You told them nothing’s going on.’ His hand on her arm tightened to steer her out of the way of an older man pushing an overloaded baggage trolley.

  ‘That’s because nothing is going on.’

  ‘You made it sound like there was.’

  Audrey pulled out of his hold and rubbed at her arm. ‘I did not. What did you expect me to do? Just stand there and let them make those insinuations without defending myself? Anyway, I don’t see what’s your problem. No one would ever think you’d be interested in someone like me.’

  His frown gave him an intimidating air. ‘This is your mother’s doing.’

  A weight dropped in Audrey’s stomach. ‘You think my mother tipped off the press about us? But why would she do that?’

  His mouth was set in a cynical line. ‘Because she loves nothing more than a bit of pot-stirring. The more press attention on us, the less on her and my father.’

  Could it be true? Had her mother done something so mischievous in order to take the spotlight off her relationship with Lucien’s father? But why? Sibella knew how much Audrey disliked Lucien.

  But the more she thought about it the more likely it seemed. Her mother had blocked Audrey from finding her on the phone app but her mother could still find her. Her mother could have been following her movements ever since Audrey had left her flat yesterday morning. She and Harlan were probably laughing about it over a bottle or two of wine right this very minute.

  Lucien’s phone rang soon after they had checked in to their flight. He glanced at the screen and grimaced and, mouthing ‘Excuse me’, stood a little apart from Audrey to answer. She tried not to listen...well, strictly speaking she didn’t really try, but even with the background noise of the terminal it was almost impossible not to get the gist of the conversation from the brooding expression on his face. After the call ended he slipped the phone in his trouser pocket.

  ‘Trouble in paradise?’ Audrey gave him an arch look.

  He shrugged as if it didn’t matter one way or the other. ‘Come on. It’s nearly time to board.’

  Audrey waited until they were seated on the plane before she brought up the topic of Viviana again. ‘So, she was the jealous type after all.’

  His mouth tightened as though it were being tugged on from inside. ‘If you’re expecting to see me fall in an emotional heap like my father then you’ll be waiting a long time.’

  ‘No. I’m not expecting that.’ She clipped on her seat belt and settled back into her seat. ‘My theory was right. You would only ever get involved with someone who doesn’t threaten your locked-away heart.’ She turned and gave him a sugar-sweet smile. ‘I’m assuming you actually have one?’

  He gave her the side-eye. ‘I hope you’re not one of those annoying passengers who make banal conversation the whole flight?’

  ‘Nope,’ Audrey said. ‘I like to read or watch movies.’

  ‘Glad to hear it.’ He leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.

  Audrey picked up the in-flight magazine but her gaze kept drifting to his silent form beside her. His arm was resting on the armrest, his long legs stretched out and crossed over at the ankles. They were travelling Business Class; apparently he was too much of an accountant to travel First Class. But secretly that impressed her about him. Her mother always insisted on travelling First Class, even when she couldn’t always afford it. It was all about her mother’s image, how the public perceived her. It seemed such a shallow existence to Audrey and she wondered what was going to happen to her mother when her celebrity star dimmed, as it inevitably would. She sighed and reached for the remote control and clicked on the movie menu. Her mother’s star would dim even more quickly if Audrey didn’t talk her out of remarrying Harlan Fox.

  And, God forbid, it might even be snuffed out completely.

  * * *

  Lucien opened his eyes some time later to find Audrey sniffing in the seat beside him, her knees drawn up, her feet bare. Chocolate wrappers littered the floor and her seat, including one on his seat. She was dabbing at her streaming eyes with a bunched-up tissue—or was it a napkin from the meal tray? The credits were rolling on a movie on the screen in front of her.

  ‘Sad movie?’ he said, handing her his handkerchief.

  She gave him a sheepish look, pulled out her headphones and took the handkerchief. ‘I’ve seen it twenty-three times and I still cry buckets.’

  Who watched a movie twenty-three times? ‘Must be a good movie.’ He leaned closer to glance at the credits and caught a whiff of her perfume as well as a stronger one of chocolate. ‘Notting Hill.’

  ‘Have you seen it?’

  ‘Once, years ago.’

  Audrey gave a heartfelt sigh. ‘It’s my favourite movie.’

  ‘What do you love about it?’

  ‘Anna Scott, Julia Roberts’s character, is one of the most famous actors in the world, but she’s just a normal person underneath the fame and that’s who Hugh Grant’s character—William Thacker—falls in love with, only he nearly loses her because he’s put off by her celebrity status. But then he finally comes to his senses when his quirky flatmate calls him a daft prick for turning her down and—’ Her mouth twisted. ‘Sorry. I’m probably boring you.’ She pretended to zip her lips. ‘That’s it. No more banal conversation from me.’

  ‘You’re not boring me.’ He was surprised to find it was true. He could have listened to her rave on and on about that movie for the next hour—for the next week. Her face was so animated when she talked, her eyes bright and shiny with her dark lashes all spiky from tears.

  ‘
Anyway, you’ve seen the movie, so...’ Her eyes fell away from his and she began fiddling with the fabric of his handkerchief.

  ‘You have chocolate next to your mouth,’ Lucien said.

  ‘Where?’ She brushed at her mouth with the handkerchief. ‘Gone?’

  He took the handkerchief and, holding her chin with one hand, gently removed the smear of chocolate.

  You’re touching her again.

  He ignored his conscience and dabbed at the other side of her mouth. There wasn’t any chocolate there but he couldn’t resist the way her big brown eyes reacted when he touched her—they opened and closed in a slow blink like a kitten enjoying a sensuous stroke. Her pupils widened like spreading pools of ink and she gave a tiny swallow, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Something tightly bound up in his chest loosened like the sudden slip of a knot.

  He placed his thumb on her lower lip and moved it back and forth against its pillowy softness, his blood stirring, simmering, smouldering. She made a little whimpering sound—it wasn’t much more than the catch of her breath, but it ignited his desire like a taper against dry tinder. He brought his head closer, closer, closer, giving her time to pull back, giving himself time to rethink this madness. His madness.

  Stop. Stop. Stop.

  The warnings sounded like a distant horn—slightly muffled, muted, making it easy to ignore.

  He covered her mouth with his and her softness clung to his dry lips like silk on sandpaper. He pressed on her lips once—a touchdown. A test.

  But he wanted more. He ached, he throbbed, he craved more.

  He pressed down again on her lips and she opened her mouth on a breathless sigh, her hands slid up his chest, grasped the front of his shirt. His tongue found hers and a hot dart of need speared him. He lost his mind. His self-control. Her mouth tasted of chocolate and milk and something that was uniquely her. Her mouth was like exotic nectar. A potent potion he would die without consuming. His lips were fused to hers, his tongue dancing and flirting and mating with hers like two champion dancers who knew each other’s movements as well as their own.