SOS: Convenient Husband Required / Winning a Groom in 10 Dates: SOS: Convenient Husband Required / Winning a Groom in 10 Dates

‘Robbie…’

‘I thought I heard you come in earlier,’ she said.

‘I had a fall. In the park. Adam came to my rescue.’

‘That would account for the kitten, then,’ she said stiffly. ‘And the trousers hanging over the Aga.’

‘We both got rather muddy,’ Adam said.

‘I’m sure it’s nothing to do with me what you were doing in the park,’ Robbie said, ignoring him. ‘But Jeremy is here.’

‘Jeremy?’ she repeated, struggling to gather her wits.

‘He’s brought the designs for the honey labels.’

‘Has he? Oh, right…’ Expanding honey production had been part of the future she’d planned and Jeremy Davidson had volunteered to design the labels for her.

‘He’s doing you a favour, May. You won’t want to keep him waiting,’ she said primly before turning to leave.

‘Robbie, wait!’ she began, then glanced at Adam, suddenly unsure of herself. She wanted to tell Robbie that the kiss had meant nothing. That it was no more than a handshake on a deal. Except when Robbie paused, her shoulders stiff with disapproval, the words wouldn’t come.

‘Go and see the man about your labels,’ Adam urged, then nodded, as if to reassure her that she could go ahead with her plans. That she had a future. ‘Leave this to me.’

‘But Nancie…’ She looked at the baby. It was easier than meeting his eyes, looking at Robbie.

‘I’ll bring her down in a moment.’

Adam watched as she stumbled from the room in her haste to escape her embarrassment and he could have kicked himself.

Most women in her situation would have leapt at the deal he’d offered, no questions asked, but her first response had been flat refusal, anger at his presumption, and that had caught him on the raw.

His kiss had been intended as a marker. A promise to himself that she would pay for every slight, every insult but, instead of the anticipated resistance, she had responded with a heat that had robbed him of any sense of victory. Only left him wanting more.

He did not want her.

He could have any woman he wanted. Beautiful women. The kind who turned heads in the street.

All he wanted from May Coleridge was her pride at his feet. And he would have it.

She had been his last mistake. His only weakness. Since the day he’d walked away from this house, his clothes freezing on his back, he’d never let anything, any emotion, stand in his way.

With his degree in his pocket, a mountain of debt to pay off, his mother incapable of looking after either herself or Saffy, the only job he had been able to get in his home town was in an old import company that had been chugging along happily since the days when the clipper ships brought tea from China. It wasn’t what he’d dreamed of, but within five years he’d been running the company. Now he was the chairman of an international company trading commodities from across the globe.

His success didn’t appear to impress May’s disapproving housekeeper.

‘It’s been a while, Mrs Robson.’

‘It has. But nothing appears to have changed, Mr Wavell,’ she returned, ice-cool.

‘On the contrary. I’d like you to be the first to know that May and I are going to be married.’

‘Married!’ And, just like that, all the starch went out of her. ‘When…?’

‘Before the end of the month.’

‘I meant…’ She shook her head. ‘What’s the hurry? What are you after? If you think May’s been left well off—’

‘I don’t need her money. But May needs me. She’s just been told that if she isn’t married by her birthday, she’s going to lose her home.’

‘But that’s less than four weeks…’ She rallied. ‘Is that what Freddie Jennings called about in such a flap this morning?’

‘I imagine so. Apparently, some ancient entailment turned up when he took James Coleridge’s will to probate.’

The colour left her face but she didn’t back down. ‘Why would you step in to help, Adam Wavell? What do you get out of it?’ She didn’t give him a chance to answer. ‘And that little girl’s mother? What will she have to say about it?’

‘Nancie,’ he said, discovering that a baby made a very useful prop, ‘meet Hatty Robson. Mrs Robson, meet my niece.’

‘She’s Saffy’s daughter?’ She came closer, the rigid lines of her face softening and she touched the baby’s curled up fist. ‘She’s a pretty thing.’ Then, ‘So where is your sister? In rehab? In jail?’

‘Neither,’ he said, hanging onto his temper by a thread. ‘But we are having a bit of a family crisis.’

‘Nothing new there, then.’

‘No,’ he admitted. A little humility wouldn’t hurt. ‘Saffy was sure that May would help.’

‘Again? Hasn’t she suffered enough for your family?’

Suffered?

‘I met her in the park. She was up a tree,’ he added. ‘Rescuing a kitten.’

She rolled her eyes. An improvement.

‘The only reason she told me her troubles was to explain why she couldn’t look after Nancie.’

‘And you leapt in with an immediate marriage proposal. Saving not one, but two women with a single bound?’ Her tone, deeply ironic, suggested that, unlike May, she wasn’t convinced that it was an act of selfless altruism.

‘Make that three,’ he replied, raising her irony and calling her. ‘I imagine one of May’s concerns was you, Mrs Robson. This is your home, too.’

If it hadn’t been so unlikely, he would have sworn she blushed. ‘Did she say that?’ she demanded, instantly on the defensive. ‘I don’t matter.’

‘You know that’s not true,’ he said, pushing his advantage. ‘You and this house are all she has.’

And this time the blush was unmistakable. ‘That’s true. Poor child. Well, I’m sure that’s very generous of you, Mr Wavell. Just tell me one thing. Why didn’t your sister, or you, just pick up the phone and call one of those agencies which supplies temporary nannies? I understand you can afford it these days.’

He’d already explained his reasons to May and he wasn’t about to go through them again. ‘Just be glad for May’s sake,’ he replied, ‘that I didn’t.’

She wasn’t happy, clearly didn’t trust his motives, but after a moment she nodded just once. ‘Very well. But bear this in mind. If you hurt her, you’ll have to answer to me. And I won’t stop at a hosing down.’