The Irresistible Tycoon

by Helen Brooks

  ‘Lucas!’ With a total lack of inhibition Melody ran over to him and smiled up into the hard rugged face. ‘Have you come to see me?’ she asked trustingly.

  ‘That I have.’

  With his gaze now on the small figure of her daughter Kim was able to really look at him, and she saw the harsh face had a grey tinge of exhaustion and he looked utterly done in.

  ‘Good,’ Melody declared happily. ‘Mummy and me are doing a jigsaw I had for Christmas. You can help if you like. It’s very hard,’ she added with a small frown.

  ‘Darling, Mr Kane—Lucas—is tired,’ Kim said quickly.

  ‘But not too tired to try my hand at the jigsaw,’ Lucas put in swiftly, holding out his arm to Melody, who took his hand immediately and dragged him off to the sitting room.

  The jigsaw was lying on a big tray on the rug in front of the fire, and Kim watched with something approaching disbelief as her dignified and illustrious boss shrugged off his suit jacket and loosened his tie before squatting down next to Melody on the floor.

  The light caught the shining blue-black jet of his hair and the fragile fairness of Melody’s waves, emphasising the contrast between them, and for a moment Kim felt such a sense of panic she wanted to run across the room and snatch Melody up in her arms.

  ‘Would…would you like a drink?’ she asked helplessly from the doorway.

  ‘I’d love one. Black coffee, please.’ Lucas turned round and looked at her as he spoke, and the flickering glow from the fire picked out the lines of strain round his mouth and eyes.

  He was dead beat. Kim stared at him for a second more and then heard her voice asking, ‘Have you eaten? I can rustle up something, if you like?’

  He looked at her quietly for a moment. ‘That would be great, Kim. Thank you.’

  ‘Are your parents all right?’ Too late she remembered she hadn’t asked after them, but that was the trouble with Lucas, she told herself crossly. All coherent thought seemed to fly out of the window when he was around.

  ‘They’ll live.’ It was dry. ‘Dad is suffering more from the tongue-lashing Mum gave him than his broken leg and torn muscles. He always tends to drive too fast and she’s sure that contributed to the accident.’

  It seemed strange hearing him refer to his parents as Mum and Dad, somehow, and Kim didn’t like the feeling the warmth in his voice engendered either. She didn’t want to think of him as a loving son; it made him that touch more human and that was dangerous.

  As Melody claimed Lucas’s attention by tugging on his sleeve Kim said hastily, ‘I’ll get that coffee,’ and shut the sitting room door quickly.

  She stood still for a moment in the kitchen, aware her heart was pounding. He was here, he’d come. What did that mean? Her heart gave a mighty kick and she shut her eyes tightly, but that only painted the picture of Lucas—his shirt taut across muscled shoulders and his long legs crossed Buddha-fashion as he sat next to the tiny figure of Melody—more vividly across the screen of her mind.

  Food. With unconscious drama she raised her hands and opened her fingers wide. Concentrate on the food, Kim, she told herself silently. She knew where she was with that.

  At half-past seven Kim served up pork chops with lemon and herbs, and new potatoes and baby carrots and peas for Lucas, whisking Melody out of the room at the same time so Lucas could eat his food in peace whilst Melody had her bath and got into her pyjamas.

  ‘This looks delicious. Thank you.’

  The soft deep voice stopped Kim just as she was about to shut the sitting room door again and she turned, indicating for Melody to continue up the stairs, before she glanced back at Lucas and said, her smile brittle, ‘There’s either spicy apple, date and sesame loaf to follow or a piece of the chocolate cake Melody likes if you’d prefer.’

  ‘Home-made chocolate cake?’ It was almost winsome.

  Kim nodded carefully.

  ‘It’s been years since I had home-made chocolate cake,’ Lucas murmured appreciatively.

  ‘Chocolate cake it is, then.’

  After she shut the door Kim found she had to lean against it for a full thirty seconds. He was too sexy, she told herself despairingly. Too sexy by half. How did he manage to look so broodingly tough and little boy lost at the same time?

  And she hadn’t asked why he was here. She hadn’t even acted as though a boss appearing on his secretary’s doorstep at seven in the evening was unusual. She’d just simply offered him coffee and then proceeded to cook him a meal. Barmy. This man was sending her stark-staring barmy.

  Once Melody was bathed and in bed Kim left her drawing a picture with her new set of pencils, after promising her she’d return and read her a story in a few minutes after she had fixed Lucas’s dessert.

  She heated the large slice of chocolate fudge cake just the slightest in the microwave, the way she did for Melody, and served it with a generous dollop of fresh cream, carrying it through to the sitting room quickly.

  Lucas was sitting staring into the fire as she opened the door, his elbows on his knees and the empty plate at his side, and she noticed immediately he had taken his tie off and rolled up his shirt sleeves. The aura of masculinity was overwhelming, and Kim felt her stomach tighten.

  ‘I should have rung before I came round,’ he said abruptly, rising to his feet at her entry into the dimly lit room.

  What did he expect her to say to that? They looked at each other for a second, and then Kim said quietly, ‘Why didn’t you?’

  ‘Because you would have put me off coming, said you’d see me tomorrow at the office, and I couldn’t wait that long.’

  He had moved closer to her as he had spoken, taking the plate from her suddenly nerveless fingers and placing it on a chair before straightening again and towering over her, his tall lean body hard and uncompromising and his silver-grey eyes registering the shocked surprise on her face.

  ‘Lucas—’

  ‘For the last forty-eight hours all I’ve done is to tell myself what a damn fool I was not to kiss you when I had the chance,’ he growled softly. ‘To hell with doing the honourable thing and giving you time. I need you, Kim.’

  ‘Lucas, please—’

  He caught the last breathless word with his lips, his mouth taking hers in a kiss that was all fire and passion, a kiss which rocked Kim to the core. But then almost immediately the ruthless control he exerted in every other area of his life slotted into place, and he was caressing her lips with small, sweet kisses as he moulded her against him.

  His tongue rippled along her teeth and Kim shivered her response, barely aware that her hands had lifted to his muscular shoulders where her fingers rose further to tangle in the short, spiky black hair above his shirt collar.

  His hands moved in slow exploration down the length of her trembling body with exquisitely controlled sensuality, and Kim found herself kissing him back with a hunger that matched his. She could hear little guttural moans but at first she didn’t realise they were coming from deep in her throat, and even when the knowledge dawned she couldn’t do anything about it.

  She could feel the play of muscles beneath the silk of his shirt when she let her hands roam over the hard expanse of his powerful back, and the scent of him—that delicious, intoxicating mixture of expensive aftershave and pure male—was adding to the wild pleasure sweeping her senses.

  His body was magnificent. The height and breadth of him was all around her, consuming in its maleness. He was magnificent. And the primitive raw excitement he induced when he so much as touched her was magnificent too. She had never imagined human beings could feel something as elemental as this.

  ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he murmured huskily against her hungry mouth. ‘Incredibly, fantastically beautiful.’

  His lips moved to the silky hollow of her throat and she arched back her head, the thick fall of her hair like a shimmering curtain. She could feel the hot hardness of his erection against the softness of her belly and knew he was hugely aroused, but her emotion was one of fierc
e pride and power that she could make this man, this hard, ruthless, cold man, shake with passion.

  And then they both heard it from the bedroom upstairs; a small but determined voice calling, ‘Mummy, Mummy. I want you to read my story now.’

  He raised his head very slowly and only after a trail of kisses ending at her half-open mouth. ‘Saved by the bell?’ he murmured quizzically against the smooth flushed skin of her cheek.

  She stared at him, her eyes huge and seemingly unable to tear themselves away from the carved lines of his mouth and the dark stubble of beard on his chin. ‘Your…your dessert,’ she managed faintly. ‘I came to give you your dessert.’

  ‘It looks good enough to eat,’ he said softly, and they both knew he wasn’t talking about the cake.

  ‘I need to go.’ She gestured vaguely with one hand but still without taking her eyes off his hard, handsome face. ‘Melody is waiting for me.’

  He smiled, dropping a warm, featherlike kiss on the tip of her nose but without loosening his hold of her by the slightest. ‘I know how she feels,’ he said huskily. ‘I feel like I’ve been waiting for you all of my life. I came straight from the airport tonight and if you hadn’t been here I’d have camped outside until you came back. How come you’ve done that to me, woman?’

  There was a note of real bewilderment in his throaty voice that almost made Kim smile. Almost. But now his mouth had left hers reality was rushing in, and with it the knowledge of how close she had been to losing control. Who was she kidding? she chided herself savagely in the next instant. Her control had been nonexistent. If it hadn’t been for Melody calling…

  ‘Lucas, you don’t know me.’ She tried to prise herself out of his arms as she spoke.

  ‘The hell I don’t.’ It was soft and intent. ‘What do you think the last five months have been all about? I know you and you know me, Kim. Don’t try and kid yourself. We’ve spent most of the last one hundred and fifty-odd days together, damn it.’

  ‘But not intimately,’ she blurted out confusedly.

  ‘I’m more than willing to rectify that at the earliest opportunity.’

  ‘You know how I feel,’ she muttered weakly, managing to move away from him as Melody’s voice called again.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ he said with deadly certainty. ‘And it’s quite different to what you’re telling me, isn’t it, Kim?’

  ‘No.’ The protest was weak and the silver-grey eyes reflected their recognition of it.

  ‘You want me, Kim, and I want you. It’s as simple as that.’

  ‘Nothing is as simple as that,’ she shot back shakily. ‘You’ve got no idea, have you? You think falling in and out of bed is just a grown-up game but it’s not. It’s not! I’m not like that.’

  ‘Like what?’ he bit back angrily, his face straightening and becoming as severe as the wintry hue of his eyes. ‘I’m not suggesting a one-night stand, for crying out loud. And while we’re on the subject, promiscuity has never been a habit of mine, in case you’re wondering—neither have I ever fallen in or out of anywhere, to my knowledge!’

  ‘I didn’t mean…’ Her voice trailed away as he surveyed her from narrowed unblinking eyes. ‘Look, I have to go up to Melody.’ She pointed to the cake with a trembling hand. ‘Eat your cake.’

  She heard him mutter something very rude as she turned and escaped from the room, but she didn’t stop in her headlong flight.

  Melody was all pouts and frowns when Kim entered her daughter’s bedroom, but after establishing that no, Lucas could not come and read her story, and yes, Kim would stay with her until she was asleep, Melody snuggled down in bed and was asleep before the story was finished.

  What had she done? Kim sat in the shadowed bedroom watching Melody as she slept, her eyes lingering on the small rosebud mouth and the thick lashes on the porcelain skin, the way Melody’s fine silky hair tumbled over the pillow like spun gold.

  She had to tell him, as soon as she went downstairs, that she wanted him to leave. Moreover, that if their relationship couldn’t be constrained to a purely platonic working association, then she would have to leave Kane Electrical.

  Her heart gave a massive thud and then raced for a few seconds, reminding her—as if she needed it—that the thought made her feel sick. But she would do it, she told herself firmly. This was survival. He’d got too close.

  She wasn’t quite sure when and how it had happened but it didn’t really matter now. The end result was the same. She had let him work himself into her life and that meant the potential of pain and misery. It was a road she just wasn’t prepared to walk down.

  She sat for another five minutes in the quiet room, listening to Melody’s steady regular breathing and watching the peaceful baby face. Lucas’s bear was tucked under her daughter’s arm and the toy confirmed every fear she had, somehow. This had to end, now, tonight. Never mind it had never really started.

  Her step was purposeful as she walked downstairs and she had the words trembling on her tongue as she opened the sitting room door.

  Lucas was lying slumped on her two-seater sofa, one arm dangling on the floor by his empty plate and the other flung across the cushions in unconscious abandonment. He was fast asleep. Kim stopped just inside the room, her stance like that of a doe before a hunter, and then walked carefully to his side.

  Now those riveting eyes were closed and his face was in repose she could see just how exhausted he was. She stared down at him, her eyes drinking in every line and contour of the hard male face. The authoritative sweep of his black brows, the uncompromising cheekbones and determined mouth all spoke of power and hard virility.

  It was a face that told the onlooker that subjugation was not an option, that defeat was an unknown and unacceptable concept, and the big lean body and muscled strength evident in every inch of the honed frame was daunting. And sexy. Indescribably sexy.

  He was dead to the world. A little shiver ran down her spine and she ached to put her lips against the sleeping mouth, to trace the faint indentation in the stubbly masculine chin. She should wake him up and tell him to go, especially in view of what had occurred before she’d gone upstairs to Melody. He might look curiously vulnerable and exposed at this moment, but it was an illusion. There wasn’t a vulnerable bone in Lucas’s body.

  Her eyes lowered to the strong male throat and the beginnings of dark body hair just visible below his open collar, to powerful masculine thighs against which the material of his trousers were straining.

  Was he hairy all over? Her breath caught in her throat and she suddenly felt as guilty as if she were a peeping Tom, but she still couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from the sleeping giant in front of her.

  What would it be like to wake up beside him in the morning after a night of making love? She found she had no defence against the erotic thoughts crowding her mind. To taste him, please him, to have him taste and please her? But she was talking about a lover, here, about giving someone the rights to her body and her life.

  Suddenly all the horror connected with the days of her marriage flooded in and she felt smothered with the weight of the memories. She took several long deep breaths, pulling at the air as though she were drowning, but still the feeling of being trapped and desperately frightened was overwhelming.

  She couldn’t talk to Lucas now, not now. She needed time to come to terms with what her head was telling her. She stood for a moment more and then crept out of the room to fetch the spare quilt, draping it over the sleeping form when she returned to the sitting room and turning off the lights before she closed the door again.

  Once in the sanctuary of her bedroom Kim sat on the edge of the bed and stared vacantly into space.

  Lucas Kane was stretched out on her sofa and it looked as though he was there until morning. She shook her head bewilderedly. Somehow the impossible, the unimaginable had happened. Maggie just wouldn’t believe this!

  She got ready for bed with both ears straining for the slightest sound from the sitting room, but there wa
s nothing.

  Once in bed Kim tried to read for a while but although she dutifully turned the pages she couldn’t remember a word she’d read when she thought about it.

  Eleven o’clock came and went, then half-past, and finally it was midnight. Lucas was definitely here for the night. Kim put down the book, drank a glass of water and slid down under the covers with a sudden feeling of que sera sera.

  Short of marching downstairs and throwing him out she could do nothing, she told herself silently, so she might as well try and get some sleep herself. It had been a long day, and an even longer evening, and she had the feeling the next day wasn’t going to be any better.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  WHEN Kim awoke to the smell of frying bacon she thought for a moment she was still dreaming.

  It had been almost light before she had fallen into a fitful doze followed by an hour or two of deep, exhausted slumber, and now, as she glanced at her tiny alarm clock, she saw she had overslept by nearly an hour.

  In all the confusion and heart searching of the night before she must have forgotten to set her alarm, she thought feverishly, flinging back the covers as she swung her feet to the floor.

  It was unfortunate that Lucas chose that precise moment to enter with a cup of tea. Unfortunate for Kim that was. For Lucas the sight of Kim in a sheer, whisper-thin nightie with her blonde hair tousled and tumbled and her eyes wide with shock was the best start to a day he could remember for a long time.

  ‘Lucas!’ Kim shot back in the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin, but not before she had seen the spark of something hot in the silvery eyes.

  ‘I should hope so,’ he said calmly. ‘Who else were you expecting?’

  ‘I wasn’t expecting you,’ she reminded him severely, her colour high. ‘And I’m late; I forgot to set my alarm.’