Tycoon's Choice: Kept by the Tycoon / Taken by the Tycoon / The Tycoon's Proposal

A light in his eyes, he said, ‘You look stunning,’ and bent his dark head to kiss her.

Her heart leapt in her breast, and she knew he held everything she was, everything she hoped for, in the palm of his hand.

It was a beautiful evening, warm and still, and she could smell roses in the heart of town as she was escorted to the car.

When she was settled, he slid in beside her and started the engine. As they left the square behind them and joined the evening queue of traffic, he queried lightly, ‘Missed me?’

The true answer was yes, but she said primly, ‘I haven’t had time.’

‘So what have you been doing all day?’

‘Nothing very exciting. I spent most of the morning cleaning and shopping.’

‘But you went out in the afternoon? Anywhere nice?’

Flustered by the question, she said, ‘No, not particularly.’ She had meant to sound casual, but it came out as defensive, and she bit her lip.

Intrigued by her tone, he wondered what she was hiding. Deciding not to push it—he’d find out when he knew her better—he changed tack.

‘What made you decide to become a physiotherapist?’

She relaxed, glad to chat about her work. ‘You might call it following in my father’s footsteps. Physiotherapy was his chosen profession, and it was widely acknowledged that he had healing hands. When I was a child he became prominent in his field, and so much in demand that he turned into a workaholic.’

‘So you didn’t see much of him?’ Rafe questioned.

‘No.’ There was a remembered hint of sadness. ‘When he wasn’t at his consulting rooms in Baker Street, he was often in the States giving lecture tours.’

‘Why the States? Any particular reason?’

‘My father’s American by birth. He was brought up and had done his early training in Boston.’

‘So you’re half American? Any relatives over there?’ he asked.

‘Just an aunt and uncle we used to visit. They were always delighted to see us.’ Madeleine smiled as she reminisced.

Rafe asked no further questions, and they lapsed into silence until the Porsche drew up outside the famous basement entrance in Berkeley Square.

When he had helped her out, he handed the keys to the doorman and they made their way down the steps and in through a door at the bottom.

‘Good evening, Mr Lombard. Nice to see you.’ Clearly well-known, Rafe was welcomed inside.

As he signed in he was greeted by a couple who looked inclined to attach themselves, until he said with smooth politeness, ‘Well, if you’ll excuse us?’ and led Madeleine away.

When they were out of earshot, he added, ‘Jo and Tom are very nice, but I wanted you all to myself tonight.’

She flushed with pleasure.

There was a mere handful of people in the bar, even fewer in the restaurant, and the dance floor was empty, its dark mirrors reflecting nothing.

‘It doesn’t get busy until later, so we’ll have plenty of time to dine in comfort and then we can dance later.’

Just the thought of being held in his arms made her temperature rise even more.

When they were settled at a table and had been given menus, he asked, ‘Is there anything in particular you fancy?’

Wanting only to watch his face in the candlelight, she shook her head. ‘You order for me.’

The order given, they were sipping an aperitif when he reached across the table and, taking her slim but strong hand, examined it.

‘You said your father had healing hands. Have you?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ she said honestly. ‘Nor have I my father’s sheer dedication.’

‘So you’re not a committed career woman?’ He glanced up and met her gaze.

‘Not really. I could be just as happy being a wife and mother.’

‘At the risk of sounding chauvinistic, I find that highly commendable in this materialistic age. Most of the women I’ve met have been career-orientated. Being ‘just’ a wife and mother comes a very poor second to their independence. No wonder so many men feel threatened…’

His white smile flashed suddenly. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t want a brainless, compliant woman, no matter how beautiful she was, nor would I want a clinging vine…’

‘What would you want?’ She laughed.

‘An intelligent, independently minded woman who was capable of standing beside me as my equal. Yet a woman who would be willing to put her home and family before her career.’

Had he stayed single because he couldn’t find the right kind of woman? she wondered. Or was that just an excuse so he could go on playing the field?

As though he knew exactly what she was thinking, he added, ‘Someone with all those qualities isn’t easy to find. That’s one of the reasons I haven’t been in a hurry to marry.’

‘Then you intend to?’ The instant the words were out she wished them unsaid, and the warm colour rose in her cheeks.

A hint of amusement in his voice, he said, ‘Oh yes, I fully intend to…’

To Madeleine’s relief the arrival of the first course provided a welcome diversion, and during the rest of what proved to be a very enjoyable meal Rafe kept the conversation light and general.

They had reached the coffee stage before he returned to more personal matters, by asking, ‘Do you enjoy your work at the clinic?’

‘Yes. Though of course it’s just a temporary post, and part-time.’

‘You have private patients as well?’

‘Some. But by the time this job ends I’m hoping to have more,’ Madeleine said, taking a sip of her coffee.

‘Do you treat children?’ Rafe asked.

‘Oh, yes. At the moment I’m visiting a young boy who injured his knee playing football. Why do you ask?’

‘My sister, Diane, and her husband, Stuart, have a problem. A couple of months ago their ten-year-old daughter, Katie, was quite badly injured when she fell from her horse. Since leaving hospital Katie has been treated at home, but it seems she’s grown to dislike her present physiotherapist and has refused to have any further treatment. Would you be willing to take a look at her?’