Taming the Tycoon (6 page)

Nathaniel reached for his jacket and put it on. His grim, “Here we go,” turned the butterflies to elephants.

Nathaniel maneuvered his leg and the crutches out of the car. He could still feel the imprint of her palm on his leg from a couple of hours ago and was trying to fathom how such a fleeting touch could have such a lingering effect. Watching her step out of the limo had compounded his confusion further when her butt swaying at eye level had resulted in a very unwanted occurrence.

The last time he’d gotten an instantaneous erection he’d been thirteen and Miss Ryan, his math teacher, had patted his hand when he’d gotten a particularly difficult equation correct. Of course, the fact that she was also blond and pretty and leaning on his desk in such a way he could just see the lacy edge of her bra probably had more to do with it than her touch. But it was as embarrassing now as it had been then.

He wasn’t used to feeling so out of control. He had a reputation as a very cool customer and he ran his company like a military operation. He did not appreciate deviations or distractions.

And Addie was most definitely a distraction.

In three days, she’d had him regressing to his turbulent teens, which were the usual hormonal nightmare with a side of parental divorce and split loyalties.

Not to mention how she’d already pricked his conscience over the garden with her leukemia revelations.

“Do you need a hand?”

She stood there blinking down at him in her frivolous purple sunglasses, and if it weren’t for the bulge in his underpants, he’d have felt completely impotent as he struggled with the crutch.

Nathaniel Montgomery never felt—never
was
—impotent.

“I’m fine,” he said testily as he dodged her outreached hand and surged to his feet. The last thing he needed was for her to touch him again—not when he was still suffering the effects from her last effort.

Then the front door swung open and he’d never been more pleased to see his grandmother, her arms flung wide. “Darling!”

Her frizzy gray hair bounced as she hefted her sturdy frame across the cobblestone flagging, hobbling slightly with her arthritic hip and no matter how frustrated he was that he was here when he had so much to do, or how exasperated he got over her wild and wacky carryings-on, a part of Nathaniel recognized the warm welcome of his childhood encoded into every cell of his body.

He grinned at her as she neared. “Hello, Grandy. Still not using that cane, I see.”

“Oh, fiddlesticks,” Eunice Smithson said in her loud, crackly voice as she gave him a fierce hug. “Strong as an ox, I am. Don’t need the damned thing.”

Nathaniel laughed at her typical brushoff concerning her limitations. A cloud of rosewater and lavender, as familiar to him as his fingerprints, enveloped him and he kissed her frizzy head. He noticed she was even wearing her hearing aids for once.

When she stepped back from him, she was looking pointedly at Addie. “Well, come on then, my duck. Introduce us to your lady friend.”

Nathaniel tensed as he saw a very familiar gleam in his grandmother’s eye. He opened his mouth to oblige, but Addie jumped in ahead of him.

“Hi,” she said holding out her hand. “I’m Addie.”

“That’s an unusual kind of name,” Eunice said as she shook the proffered hand.

“It’s short for Adelaide,” Nathaniel supplied.

He watched as his grandmother scrutinized Addie with that wily-old-fox face of hers he didn’t quite trust. “Is it now?” she asked.

That look made him nervous. “After the famous physicist, Adelaide Worthington.”

His grandmother looked at him then flicked her gaze back to Addie. He watched as his grandmother’s gaze zeroed in on Addie’s crystal necklace. “You’re not Nate’s usual type,” she said, addressing Addie directly with her characteristic bluntness.

His grandmother was obviously having a hard time reconciling Addie with the other three women he’d been brave enough to bring here. She didn’t appear remotely convinced.

He leaned heavily on his left crutch as he slid his right arm around Addie’s waist and pulled her in close. She fitted a little too perfectly for his liking and the hitch in her breath along with her slightly stilted laugh annoyed him.

“Guilty as charged, I’m afraid,” Addie said.

His grandmother flicked her shrewd gaze back to him. “Where’d you meet?”

“In Addie’s shop. She works and lives at the docks, too.”

Addie nodded. “On a canal boat.”

“A canal boat?” Eunice quirked a steely gray eyebrow at her grandson. “You don’t say.”

Nathaniel would have preferred to have kept that juicy tidbit quiet, but the conversation had gotten away from him. He couldn’t think beneath his grandmother’s scrutiny and with Addie’s breast squashed against his ribs.

He was about to grapple control of the conversation again when his mother appeared in the doorway, smiling at him.

“Nate, dear,” she said coming forward, wiping her hands on her apron, flour on her face. He was relieved for the opportunity to move away from Addie, as was she, if her quick sideways step was any gauge. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized to both of them as she kissed his cheek. “I was at a critical stage with the scones.”

Addie held out her hand again. “I adore scones,” she said.

Nathaniel’s mother, a younger version of his grandmother, beamed. “Call me Delphine. I have some fresh clotted cream to go with them.”

“Addie was named after a physicist,” Eunice said to her daughter as her sharp gaze continued unabated, making Nathaniel uncomfortably hot in the summer sunshine.

His mother took up the staring gig as she, too, looked Addie over. “She’s not his usual type,” she mused.

His grandmother nodded. “She lives on a canal boat.”

Delphine looked at her son speculatively. “Really?”

Nathaniel looked at both of them, utterly exasperated. “I think it was you who taught me it’s rude to stare, Mother?”

She smiled. “Oh, sorry darling, yes.”

Nathaniel didn’t think his mother sounded particularly contrite—his grandmother certainly wasn’t. She was still staring. “You’re reading again?” she asked.

Nathaniel looked down at the book Addie had given him that he’d absently brought out of the car with him. It was clutched in his left hand, braced against the crutch. “Addie bought it for me.”

Women had bought him a lot of things in the past but never a book. Cufflinks, cologne, expensive brandy, cigars. Lingerie.

Now that was a gift he really appreciated. Especially if the woman in question had thought to get into it first and let him take his time unwrapping it.

Once he’d even been bought a fish. He wasn’t sure how to feel about a book. All the other gifts had come with strings. Sexual strings. But not this one. It unsettled him to be given a gift with no ulterior motive attached.

“Harry Potter,” his grandmother said, and he couldn’t help but note her reverential tone.

“He always had his head stuck in a book as a boy,” his mother said wistfully to Addie. “Now he doesn’t—”

“Have time?” Addie interrupted. She wrinkled her nose. “Such a shame.”

Nathaniel watched as his nearest and dearest looked at Addie as if she had a shiny halo sitting atop her head.

For crying out loud. “Perhaps we could move inside?” he said pointedly. He really did not want to stand here and listen to them compare notes on his perceived shortcomings.

“Of course, dear,” his mother said. “How very rude. You must want to get off your poor leg. We’ll let you and Addie settle in upstairs and you can join us for scones shortly.”

Nathaniel nodded, relieved to be off the hot seat. “You want Addie in the rose bedroom?” he asked.

“Oh no, darling,” his grandmother interjected. “She’ll be in with you, of course.”

Nathaniel felt time screech to halt around him. His heart pounded in his chest and his pulse roared through his ears. He looked at Addie, who blinked at him uncertainly through her big round sunglasses.

“What about the rules?” he inquired through gritted teeth. “You’ve never let me share my room with a woman before.”

“Yes, but…” his grandmother smiled at him the way she always had—like he hung the moon. “We didn’t like any of the others, darling.”

And she took Addie’s hand and led her into the house.

Chapter Five

Addie stood in the doorway, conscious of Nathaniel beside her as she stared at the large four-poster bed that dominated a room that was pretty damned generous itself. The cream lace canopy matched the cream lace curtains at the window. Afternoon sunlight streamed in, illuminating the plump snowy white quilt and matching pillows.

It looked fluffy and beckoning—like a cloud—even if the images it evoked were nowhere near as innocent. Just picturing Nathaniel’s dark sexiness amongst all that white, his fallen angel mouth perfectly at home, was causing her pulse to trip a little.

“Wow,” she said.

“Indeed.” Nathaniel nodded.

Addie’s belly clenched. “I didn’t bring any pajamas.”

“I don’t
own
pajamas.”

They both stared for a moment longer. Addie was grateful when Nathaniel limped into the room, crutches in hand. The bed was utterly entrancing—the kind that should be in all honeymoon suites—and she was glad to have something else to look at.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said as he dumped his satchel and the crutches on one of the formal wing chairs that sat in front of a Victorian-looking fireplace with an exquisite decorative mantel.

Addie looked at the floor. It was covered in rich rugs concealing most of the aged uneven stonework. “You can’t sleep on the floor,” she protested. “You’re injured.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No,” she insisted.

He quirked his brow. “Are
you
offering?”

Addie snorted. “After four months of my life sleeping on a hospital bed they could have used in a torture chamber, and a couple of years in a sleeping bag in the back of a Kombi, I made a vow to never sleep on anything other than a nice, thick mattress ever again.” She folded her arms as she prepared to throw her proposition out there. “We can share.”

She held her breath, wishing she could tell what the hell was going on behind those fathomless blue eyes.

“No.”

She stared him down, her pulse pounding. “It makes sense, Nate.”

It was satisfying to see a little pulse jerking at the angle of his jaw. “It’s Nathaniel,” he said, his voice all gravelly.

Addie shrugged because the man was too used to getting his own way and she was damned if she was going to be one of his yes-women. Especially if they were going to share a bed. The more pissed off he was, the greater the distance he’d keep.

“I kind of like Nate. It suits you. Plus, if we’re sharing a bed”—a smile played on her mouth—“we should be less formal.”

He shoved a hand on his hip and Addie noticed how it exposed his abdomen to her gaze. Even encased in fabric, she could tell his belly was flat. It probably had those fascinating dips where his abdominals met his hip bones.

She’d always been a sucker for those.

“There will be no sharing,
Adelaide
.”

Addie rolled her eyes. “Methinks you doth protest too much.” She tossed her hair. “We’re both adults, Nate. I’m sure we can control ourselves.”

He folded his arms and leaned his butt against the back of the chair. “Do you have any idea what happens to an adult man around five o’clock in the morning?”

Addie swallowed at the silky inquiry. His voice seemed to have dropped some more as she became entranced with his long fingers drumming against his bicep.

“While the rest of the world sleeps, a certain part of our anatomy is very, very awake. And it’s really not that picky at that time of the morning, either. In fact, it’s probably going to consider a warm, sleepy woman,
no matter how crazy she is
, fair game. Are you prepared for that? Because I’m almost thirty-five years old and I’ve never been able to
control
my early morning wakeup call.”

Addie felt skewered to the spot by the scenario he just painted. Him and her. A set of snowy white sheets. Some morning glory. She glanced at the bed, a vision of him tumbling her over and over in it clouding the issue.

She looked back at him primly. “I’m assuming you
can
control what you do with it.”

His gaze didn’t waver as his fingers stopped their drumming. “But what if I don’t want to?”

She swallowed. Good question. Which raised another—what if
she
didn’t want him to? “We’ll put some pillows down the middle.”

Nathaniel quirked an eyebrow. “How very Victorian.”

Addie glanced around at the antique furnishings. “I think it’s the room,” she murmured.

“Look,” he said checking his watch. “How about we decide later? We can’t keep those two waiting down there by themselves for too much longer. God alone knows what they’ll think if we don’t make an appearance soon.”

Addie gave a half smile. “Isn’t that what you want?”

He shook his head emphatically. “Not if they’re already planning the wedding.”

…

Addie spent an enjoyable three hours traipsing around the farm in an old Jeep driven by Eunice who had obviously missed her calling as a NASCAR driver. Nathaniel ratcheted “lethal” up several notches by changing into jeans and a T-shirt and, forgoing his crutches, helping his mother with some heavy lifting and carrying despite her protests over his injury.

At one point, a fence needed fixing and he stunned Addie by performing the job with brisk competence. Somehow she hadn’t pictured him at home in this environment. A boardroom, sure. The stock exchange, a flashy London gala—absolutely.

Not down on the farm.

For a moment, as she watched his biceps strain and the denim covering his legs pull taut, she pictured him in full cowboy garb complete with belt buckle and a Stetson pulled low over his face.

Flannel shirt blowing open…

Sweat glistening on his pecs…

Hip dips peeking out above his low-rider jeans…

Luckily, a curious alpaca called George chose that moment to sniff her neck and halted thoughts that had dropped somewhat south of Nathaniel’s imaginary buckle. Like,
did cowboys go commando
?

The animals were quite entrancing, really. Two hundred woolly, long-necked creatures strutted around regally, grazing as if they were giraffes on the savanna of Africa instead of odd-looking creatures in the middle of the English countryside. She loved their long lashes and strange soothing hum that sounded as if they were singing to each other.

It was a surreal experience made even better by her two chatty safari guides who obviously adored their herd and knew every one by name. Addie was amazed at the energy of the two older women and utterly caught up in their passion. Their plans for the farm and their monthly market stall where they sold the fleece were interesting and Addie asked endless questions as she helped them prepare the evening meal.

They even took her vegetarianism in their stride. Eunice had dozens of vegetarian cookbooks from her own flirtation with veganism years before. She regaled Addie with stories of her failed cooking attempts as she whipped up a delicious vegetarian risotto as if it were no more trifling than making a marmite sandwich.

“I just couldn’t give up bacon, Addie, no matter how hard I tried,” she’d lamented.

Addie admitted bacon had been hard for her, too.

They ate out on the large terrace that overlooked beautifully manicured gardens sloping down to the pasture fence. They watched the alpacas graze as the sun slowly set and Addie felt as if she’d been dropped into the middle of a Salvador Dali landscape.

Where nothing felt familiar but everything seemed right.

It was hard to believe it was almost nine when they gathered the dishes and retired indoors. Addie was tired and pleasantly full but the thought of going up to a bed made for rolling around in with a man who looked like he’d been hand-picked for the activity made her reluctant to mount the stairs. And when Nathaniel excused himself to spend some time on the computer, it gave her the perfect opportunity to stick around with his nearest and dearest.

Eunice smiled as Addie joined them in the sitting room with a tray of hot chocolates she’d made for each of them. “Sit here, my duck,” she said, shifting her knitting slightly and patting the cushion next to her on the chintzy two-seater. Addie passed the mugs then sat.

Eunice tutted. “Nate works too hard.”

“I know,” his mother sighed.

She peered over her glasses at Addie, her knitting needles clacking. “Fancy neglecting a sweet young thing like you,” she mused, then flicked her gaze to her daughter. “When you’re so obviously in love with each other.”

Addie almost choked on her hot chocolate, missing the faint quirk of Eunice’s mouth. Their deception weighed heavily on her conscience. It had seemed a necessary evil back in London, but she hadn’t been expecting Nathaniel’s family to be so damn…nice.

“Well, it’s just the beginning, really. We’re just—you know—taking each day as it comes.”

Addie had been reaching for vague but was afraid the blank looks coming her way meant she’d come across as being several IQ points lower than the average house brick.

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Eunice murmured, continuing her knitting. “We’d always pictured a Hill Top wedding, haven’t we, dear?”

Nathaniel’s mother nodded. “About now, in late summer, when the days are long and the weather is divine.”

Addie looked from one to the other.
Bloody hell
. She needn’t worry about Nate’s five a.m. wakeup call because if he got wind of this conversation, he was going to murder her in her sleep.

“Is that alpaca wool?” she asked, desperately trying to turn the conversation around.

Eunice glanced at her daughter briefly, then nodded. “Yes. As I was saying earlier today, Delphine spins and dyes it and I knit it.”

“May I?” Addie asked, relieved to be steering the conversation from the rocks as she reached out and felt the wool.

It practically melted beneath her fingers it was so soft. She fired off some more questions about the process as Eunice’s needles clicked away. Addie’s heart rate, which had been keeping pace with the needles during the wedding chatter, slowly returned to normal as the two women prattled on about a subject that was obviously close to their hearts.

“This is for the market stall?” Addie asked as she fingered the wool again.

Eunice nodded. “We sell the fleece both dyed and undyed and these wraps that I knit. I also do throws for chairs and sometimes blankets.”

“It’s exquisite,” Addie murmured because it truly was a thing of beauty.

An idea started to form in her brain as she marveled at the loveliness of the garment taking shape before her eyes. And she was just about to put it out there when the lights went out.

For a moment nobody said anything, then Nathaniel’s mother said, “Nate’s going to be pissed.”

On cue they heard a curse as something bumped in the hallway and then, “Everyone okay?” came from somewhere behind Addie.

“We’re fine,” his mother called out as she struck a match and illuminated the room, quickly lighting a lantern that Addie hadn’t even been aware was sitting on a low table beside her chair. A soft yellow glow oozed into all the dark corners.

“I’ll ring the electric company,” he announced from the doorway.

“Don’t be silly, darling,” his mother said. “It happens all the time and will be back on before you know it. Come and sit with us.”

“Yes, come and sit with your dear old Grandy,” Eunice added.

“I’ll move,” Addie said preparing to shift to the other single chair.

“No, no,” Eunice said, placing a restraining hand on Addie’s and rising quickly. “We can’t have the two lovebirds sitting apart.” And she shuffled to the other chair in the blink of an eye.

Pretty fast for an octogenarian with a bad hip and a bundle of knitting to juggle
.

Addie sat very straight as Nathaniel limped into the room unaided and lowered his bulk into the seat beside her. It was a reasonably roomy two-seater but suddenly with the warmth and the sweet spicy smell of him, it felt as if they were in each other’s laps.

Oh, God, Addie, do not think about his lap!

Eunice, knitting again, shot them both a smile as they sat as far from each other as possible. “Well, are you going to cuddle the girl or not, Nate?” she demanded in her foghorn voice. “We have romantic mood lighting and everything.” She glanced at her co-conspirator. “Anyone would think you just picked the girl up off the street.”

Addie’s heartbeat accelerated as she felt Nathaniel tense beside her. She glanced at him, trying not to think how he literally had picked her up off the street. She gave him an awkward smile. He had a desperate
Fix this
look in his eyes and Addie couldn’t help but be amused that a man who could broker million-pound deals didn’t know how to handle a little old lady.

It was strangely endearing.

“It’s okay,” she assured Eunice as she moved closer to Nathaniel, sliding a hand onto his leg, near his knee, and dropping her head onto his shoulder. “Nate’s not big on public displays of affection, are you”—she swallowed—“darling?”

He seemed to tense up even more beside her. She ran her other hand up his arm, resting it against a beautifully rounded bicep and giving it a gentle squeeze.

She almost jumped out of her skin when Nathaniel dropped his hand to her leg a little higher than where hers rested on him.

A little higher than was decent.

“I much prefer to keep it private.”

There was a gravelly undertone to his voice that caused an involuntary tensing of every single muscle group Addie owned. Her belly was so rigid, she’d bet rocks could be bounced off it.