The Boss's Proposal (20 page)

His words jabbed into her like the blades of a knife, and every jab was accompanied by a sharp twist.

‘I've always been sceptical about love; I've seen too many friends start out with hope and end up with ashes, and your relationship with Shaun was just another example of why emotion never gets anyone anywhere. Or so I thought. The fact is, emotion is all we have, and without that marriage is a sham, a hell on earth. It takes more than a lack of argument to make a good marriage, just like virtue isn't necessarily a lack of obvious vice.' He sighed deeply and raised his eyes to hers. ‘Hence my change of mind.'

Vicky's head felt as though it was stuffed with cotton wool. The inside of her mouth wasn't faring much better either.

‘Are you trying to tell me that you don't love me?' she said in a high, flippant voice, to defuse the situation which was threatening to overwhelm her.
Remind me,
she thought,
never to ask someone for honesty. Much better to avoid it at all costs.

Instead of finding answering relief in his eyes, he didn't say anything.

‘I'm not saying anything of the sort.'

His words dropped into the silence like bombshells. First of all she thought that she'd perhaps heard incorrectly, then it occurred to her that she'd misinterpreted what he had said. Hadn't there been a double negative in there somewhere? Lastly, she figured that perhaps it was just an elaborate counter-bluff, maybe containing a pun, although his face was unsmiling. A wash of unaccustomed colour stained his cheeks, but he was still holding her gaze, waiting for her to say something.

‘Then what
are
you saying?' she asked into the oppressive silence. More requests for honesty, she thought numbly, could only end in tears. Hers.

‘I'm telling you that I love you and I can't put you through a marriage that's one-sided. I thought,' he carried on, now addressing his fingers, ‘that I could show you how much…how much I…well, you know what I'm saying here…' His flush deepened and his voice was unsteady, as though every word was an effort. ‘I…but it hasn't worked…and…'

‘So you're saying that
you love me
?' She could feel the wild stirrings of hope pushing through her woolly-headed brain, and as fast as she tried to shove it back it resprouted. Her heart was thundering inside her.

‘I'm saying that I love you, Victoria Lockhart.' This time his voice was steady and his eyes never left her face.

She smiled slowly and went to sit alongside him on the sofa. ‘Would you mind very much telling me that over and over again, because I'm finding it difficult to take in?'

He carried on looking at her, and suddenly the humour was back in his eyes.

‘Now, why would I do that?' he drawled, sitting back on the chair so that he could have an all-encompassing
view of her. From the expression on his face, it was a view he liked.

‘Because I seem to have spent my life searching for you and I need you to tell me that my love for you is returned. You forget, I'm a woman whose self-esteem has taken some battering in her life…' Her self-esteem had never felt better. When she thought of Shaun and the emotional mess she'd been, she had the unreal feeling that she was thinking of a different person altogether.

‘Well, there might be a bit of a price to pay…'

‘What kind of price?' She looked at him with wide-eyed innocence, but there was a wicked smile on her face that matched his.

He leaned forward, curled his hand around the nape of her neck and pulled her to him, then he proceeded to kiss her thoroughly, only stopping to say into her hungry mouth, ‘The marrying kind of price…' His tongue dipped back into her mouth and she laughingly struggled her way out of the heady embrace.

‘There's no need,' she said, pink-faced but serious. Her hands pressed against his chest and she could feel the movement of his heart beating against his ribs. He reached to clasp both hands in her hair, on either side of her face, while the soft pads of his thumbs stroked her temples, her eyes, her cheekbones. Her small breasts ached for the same soft, seductive caress. ‘I know that your sense of duty and responsibility prompted you to propose originally, but…'

‘If only you knew,' he murmured, now stroking the slender column of her neck, then travelling inexorably downwards to cup her jutting breasts.

‘If only I knew…what?' Her words ended on a gasp as he unbuttoned her and scooped her breasts out of their lacy bondage, rubbing his thumbs erotically over the raised tips.

‘When I proposed to you,' he said, stilling his fingers
so that he could capture every ounce of her attention, ‘I meant it. I
wanted
to marry you. I was determined to claw my way to your love if I had to die in the process. And now, my darling…' His fingers resumed their expert manipulation of her breasts, sending a convulsive shudder through her body. ‘I don't intend to let you go. Ever.' He dipped his head to trail the tip of his tongue delicately around her nipple, circling, touching, flicking, until her unsteady breathing became small moans of pleasure. ‘I
want
to marry you, just like I
want
Chloe to be a daughter to me, like she's a daughter to you…' He suckled on her breast, just long enough to make her slide a few centimetres down the sofa, long enough for his hand to gently curve around her thigh, massaging the willing flesh and edging upwards.

‘And then, who knows?' He looked up at her and his grey eyes were dark with passion and tenderness. ‘More babies?' He nuzzled her and she could feel him smiling into her breasts. ‘If you thought you'd found the archetypal tycoon, then, my darling, you were wrong, because the prospect of domesticity has never seemed so good…'

‘Are you telling me that I've tamed a tiger?' She watched his dark head against her body and was thrillingly, sinfully happy.

‘Not,' he said, shifting his body so that he could unzip his trousers, ‘completely. In one very important aspect, my love, you'll never be able to tame me…'