Secrets of a Ruthless Tycoon

by Cathy Williams

  ‘When you say “taken with me”...’ He had told Brianna that he saw it as his duty to keep an eye on her houseguest, to scope her out, because a houseguest with a mysteriously absent past was not a houseguest to be trusted. Was the houseguest doing the same with him? He almost laughed out loud at the thought. As always when he was in her company, he had to try not to stare, not to try and find similarities...

  ‘She’s, well, I suppose you know about...’

  ‘About the guy who broke her heart when she was at university?’

  ‘She’s locked herself away for years, has expressed no interest in any kind of love life at all. I’ve always thought it sad for someone so young and caring and beautiful, that she wouldn’t be able to share those qualities with a soul mate.’

  Leo said something and nothing. He looked at the cane leaning against the chair and wondered what it must feel like to be relatively young and yet require the assistance of a walking stick.

  ‘If you don’t mind my asking, how old are you, Bridget?’

  Bridget looked at him in surprise. ‘Why do you ask?’

  Leo shrugged and sipped his coffee.

  ‘Not yet fifty,’ Bridget said quietly. ‘Although I know I look much, much older.’ She glanced away to stare through the window and he could see the shine of unshed tears filming her eyes.

  In his head, he was doing the maths.

  ‘But we weren’t talking about me,’ she said softly.

  Leo felt a surge of healthy cynicism and thought that if she figured she could disappear behind a veil of anonymity then she was in for a surprise. There were things he wanted to find out, things he needed to find out, and he knew himself well—what he wanted, he got, be it money, women or, in this case, answers. The unsettling hesitancy that had afflicted him off and on, the hesitancy he hated because he just wasn’t a hesitant person, thankfully disappeared beneath the weight of this new resolve.

  ‘Indulge me,’ he said smoothly. ‘I hate one-sided conversations. I especially hate long chats about myself... I’m a man, after all. Self-expression is a luxury I don’t tend to indulge very often. So, let’s talk about you for a minute. I’m curious. You’re not yet fifty, you tell me? Seems very young to have abandoned the lure of city lights for a quiet place like this.’ He still could not quite believe that she was as young as she said. She looked like a woman in her sixties.

  ‘What you may call “quiet”, by which I take it you mean “dull”, is what I see as peace.’

  ‘Brianna said that you’ve been here a while—quite a few years; you must have been even younger when you decided that you wanted “peace”.’ He couldn’t help thinking that, although their colouring was different, he had her eyes, the shape of them. He looked away with a frown.

  She blushed and for the first time he could see her relative youth peep out from behind the care-worn features.

  ‘My life’s been...complicated. Not quite the life I ever expected, matter of fact.’

  Curiosity was gnawing at him but he kept his features perfectly schooled, the disinterested bystander in whom he hoped she would confide. He could feel in his bones that the questions he wanted answering were about to be answered.

  ‘Why don’t you talk about it?’ he murmured, resting the cup on the table and leaning towards her, his forearms resting on his thighs. ‘You probably feel constrained talking to Brianna. In such a small, close-knit community perhaps you didn’t want your private life to be thrown into the public arena?’ He could see her hesitate. Secrets were always burdensome. ‘Not that Brianna would ever be one to reveal a confidence, but one can never be too sure, I suppose.’

  ‘And who knows how long I have left?’ Bridget said quietly. She plucked distractedly at the loose gown she was wearing and stared off through the window as though it might offer up some inspiration. ‘My health isn’t good: stress, built up over the years. The doctor says I could have another heart attack at any time. They can’t promise that the next time round won’t be fatal.’ She looked at him pensively. ‘And I suppose I wouldn’t want to burden Brianna with my life story. She’s a sweet girl but I would never want to put her in a position of having to express a sympathy she couldn’t feel.’

  Or pass judgement which would certainly mean the end of your happy times with her, Leo thought with another spurt of that healthy cynicism, cynicism he knew he had to work at.

  ‘But I don’t come from here...’ he encouraged in a low voice.

  ‘I grew up in a place not dissimilar to this,’ she murmured. ‘Well, bigger, but not by a lot. Everybody knew everybody else. All the girls knew the boys they would end up marrying. I was destined for Jimmy O’Connor; lived two doors away. His parents were my parents’ best friends. In fact, we were practically born on the same day, but that all went up the spout when I met Robbie Cabrera. Roberto Cabrera.’

  Leo stilled. ‘He was Spanish?’

  ‘Yes. His father had come over for a temporary job on a building site ten miles out of town. Six months. He was put into our school and all the girls went mad for him. I used to be pretty once, when I was a young girl of fifteen...you might not guess it now.’ She sighed and looked at him with a girlish smile which, like that blush, brought her buried youth back up to the surface.

  ‘And what happened?’ Leo was surprised he could talk so naturally, as though he was listening to someone else’s story rather than his own.

  ‘We fell madly in love. In the way that you do when you’re young and innocent.’ She shot him a concerned looked and he hastened to assure her that whatever she told him would stay with him. Adrenaline was pumping through him. He hadn’t experienced this edge-of-the-precipice feeling in a very long time. If ever. This was why he was here. The only reason he was here.

  From nowhere, he had a vision of Brianna laughing and telling him that there was nothing more satisfying than growing your own tomatoes in summer, and teasing him that he probably wouldn’t understand because he probably lived in one of those horrible apartment blocks where you wouldn’t be able to grow a tomato if your life depended on it.

  He thought of himself, picking her up then and hauling her off to his bedroom at a ridiculous hour after the pub had finally been closed. Thought of her curving, feline smile as she lay on his bed, half-naked, her small, perfect breasts turning him on until his erection felt painful and he couldn’t get his clothes off fast enough.

  ‘Sorry?’ He leaned in closer. ‘You were saying...?’

  ‘I know. You’re shocked. And I don’t mean to shock you but it’s a relief to talk about this; I haven’t with anyone. I fell pregnant. At fifteen. My family were distraught, and of course there was no question of abortion, not that we would have got rid of it. No, Robbie and I were committed to one another.’

  ‘Pregnant...’

  ‘I was still a child myself. We both were. We wanted to keep it but my parents wouldn’t allow it. I was shipped off to a convent to give birth.’

  ‘You wanted to keep it?’

  ‘I never even held it. Never knew if it was a boy or a girl. I returned to Ireland, went back to school, but from that moment on my parents were lost to me. I had three younger siblings and they never knew what had happened. Still don’t. Family life was never the same again.’

  ‘And the father of the child?’

  Bridget smiled. ‘We ran away. His father ended up on a two-year contract. We skipped town when we were sixteen and headed south. I kept my parents informed of my whereabouts but I couldn’t see them and they never lived down the shame of what I’d done. I don’t think they cared one way or the other. Robbie always kept in touch with his parents and in fact, when they moved to London, we stayed with them for several months before they returned to Spain.’

  ‘You...ran away...’ For some reason, his normally agile mind seemed to be lagging behind.

  ‘We were very happy, Robbie and me, for over twenty years until he died in a hit-and-run accident and then I went back to Ireland. Not back to where I grew up, but
to another little town, and then eventually I came here.’

  ‘Hit and run...’ The tidal rush of emotions was so intense that he stood up and paced like a wounded bear, before dropping back into the chair.

  ‘We never had any more children. Out of respect for the one I was forced to give up for adoption.’

  Suddenly the room felt too small. He felt himself break out in a fine perspiration. Restless energy poured through him, driving him back onto his feet. His cool, logical mind willed him to stay put and utter one or two platitudes to bring the conversation to a satisfactory conclusion. But the chaotic jumble of thoughts filling every corner of his brain was forcing him to pace the room, his movements uncoordinated and strangely jerky.

  He was aware of Bridget saying something, murmuring, her face now turned to the window, lost in her thoughts.

  There was so much to process that he wasn’t sure where to start. So this was the story he had been waiting for and the ending had not been anticipated. She hadn’t been the convenient stereotype he had envisaged: she wasn’t the irresponsible no-hoper who had given him away without a backward glance. And, now that he knew that, what the hell happened next?

  He turned to her, saw that she had nodded off and almost immediately heard the sound of Brianna returning.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ About to shut the door, Brianna stood still and looked at him with a concerned frown. She had been out shopping and had had to force herself to take her time, not to hurry back, because she just wanted to see him, to be with him. ‘Is...is Bridget all right?’ She walked towards him and he automatically reached out to help her with the bags of shopping. Brianna stifled the warm thrill that little slice of pretend domesticity gave her.

  ‘Bridget is fine. She appears to have fallen asleep. Have you ever...?’ Leo murmured, reaching to cup the nape of her neck so that he could pull her towards him. ‘Thought that you were going in one direction, only to find that the signposts had been switched somewhere along the way and the destination you were heading to turned out to be as substantial as a mirage?’

  Brianna’s heart skipped a beat. Was he talking about her? she wondered with heightened excitement. Was he trying to tell her that meeting her had derailed him? She placed her hand flat on his chest and then slipped it between two buttons to feel his roughened hair.

  ‘What are you saying?’ she whispered, wriggling her fingers and undoing the buttons so that she could now see the hard chest against which her fingers were splayed.

  ‘I’m saying I want to have sex with you.’ And right at that moment it really was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to drown the clamour of discordant voices in his head and just make love to her. With the bags of shopping in just one hand, he nudged her towards the kitchen.

  ‘We can’t!’ But her hands were scrabbling over him, hurrying to undo the buttons of his shirt, and her breasts were aching in anticipation of being touched by him. ‘Bridget...’

  ‘Asleep.’ He shut down the associated thoughts that came with mention of her name.

  ‘I’ve got to start getting ready to open up.’

  ‘But not for another half-hour. I assure you...’ They were in the kitchen now and he kicked the door shut behind him and pushed her towards the wall until she was backed up against it. ‘A lot can be accomplished in half an hour.’

  The low drawl of intent sent delicious shivers racing up and down her spine and she groaned as he unzipped her jeans and pushed his hand underneath her panties. Frustrated because his big hand couldn’t do what it wanted to do thanks to the tightness of her jeans, he yanked them down, and Brianna quickly stepped out of them.

  Bridget, she thought wildly, would have another heart attack if she decided to pop into the kitchen for something. But fortunately her energy levels were still very low and if she was asleep then she would remain asleep at least for another hour or so.

  Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she uttered a low, wrenching groan as he pulled the crotch of her panties to one side and began rubbing her throbbing clitoris with his finger.

  Her panties were damp with her arousal. She gave a broken sigh and her eyelids fluttered. She could feel him clumsily undoing his trousers and then his thick hardness pushing against her jumper.

  This was fast and furious sex.

  Where was his cool? Leo was catapulted right back to his days of being a horny teenager lacking in finesse, except he couldn’t remember, even as a horny teenager, being as wildly out of control as he was now. He didn’t even bother with taking off her jumper, far less his. He hooked his finger under her knickers and she completed the job of disposing of them. He could barely get it together to don protection. His hand was shaking and he swore in frustration as he ripped open the packet.

  Then he took her. He hoisted her onto him and thrust into her with a grunt of pleasurable release. Hands under her buttocks, he pushed hard and heard her little cry of pleasure with intense satisfaction.

  They came together, their bodies utterly united, both of them oblivious to their surroundings.

  He dropped her to the ground, his breathing heavy and uncontrolled. ‘Not usually my style.’ But, as he watched her wriggle back into her underwear and jeans, he figured it could well become part of his repertoire without a great deal of trouble.

  ‘You look a little hot and flustered.’ He gently smoothed some tendrils of hair away from her face and Brianna added that tender gesture to the stockpile she was mentally constructing. She felt another zing of excitement when she thought back to what he had said about his plans not going quite as he had anticipated. She would have loved nothing more than to quiz him further on the subject, but she would let it rest for the moment. One thing she had learnt about him was that he was not a man who could be prodded into saying anything or doing anything unless he wanted to.

  ‘Right—the bar. I need to get going. I need to check on Bridget.’

  Plus a million and one other things that needed doing, including sticking away the stuff she had bought. All that was running through her head as a byline to the pleasurable thought of the big guy behind her admitting to wanting more than a passing fling. A nomad would one day find a place to stay put, wouldn’t he? That was how it worked. And, if he didn’t want to stay put here, then she would be prepared to follow him. She knew she would.

  Her mind was a thousand miles away, so it took her a few minutes to realise that something was wrong when she entered the little lounge to check on Bridget.

  She should have been in the chair by the window. It was where she always sat, looking out or reading her book. But she wasn’t there. Her mind moved sluggishly as she quickly scanned the room and she saw the limp body huddled behind the chair about the same time as Leo did.

  It felt like hours but in fact it could only have been a matter of seconds, and Leo was on it before her brain had really had time to crank into gear. She was aware of him gently inspecting Bridget while barking orders to her at the same time: make sure the pub was shut; fetch some water; get a blanket; bring him the telephone because his mobile phone was in his bedroom, then amending that for her to fetch his mobile phone after all.

  ‘I’ll call an ambulance!’

  ‘Leave that to me.’

  Such was his unspoken strength that it didn’t occur to her to do anything but as he said. She shut the pub. Then it was upstairs to fetch his mobile phone, along with one of the spare guest blankets which she kept in the airing cupboard, only stopping en route to grab a glass of water from the kitchen.

  ‘She’s breathing,’ was the first thing he said when she returned. ‘So don’t look so panicked.’ He gestured to his phone, scrolled down and began dialling a number. She couldn’t quite catch what he was saying because he had walked over to the window and was talking in a low, urgent voice, his back to her. Not that she was paying any attention. She was loosely holding Bridget, talking to her in soft murmurs while trying to assess what the damage was. It looked as though she had fallen, banged her head against the tab
le and passed out. But, in her condition, what could be the ramifications of that?

  ‘Right.’ Leo turned to her and slipped the mobile phone into his jeans pocket. ‘It’s taken care of.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘It’s under control. The main thing is to keep her still. We don’t know what she’s broken with that fall.’

  ‘I’m glad you said that it was a fall. That’s what I thought. Surely that must be less serious than another heart attack. Is the ambulance on its way? I’ve made sure the “closed” sign’s on the front door. When I get a chance, I’ll ring round a couple of the regulars and explain the situation.’

  Leo hesitated. ‘No ambulance.’

  Brianna looked at him, startled. ‘But she’s got to go to hospital!’

  ‘Trust me when I tell you that I have things under control.’ He squatted alongside them both. The time of reckoning had come and how on earth had he ever played with the thought that it wouldn’t? How had he imagined that he would be able to walk away without a backward glance when the time came?

  Of course, he certainly hadn’t reckoned on the time coming in this fashion. He certainly hadn’t thought that he would be the one rescuing his mother because it now seemed that there was more conversation left between them.

  ‘You have things under control?’ Brianna looked at him dubiously. ‘And yet there’s no ambulance on the way?’

  ‘I’ve arranged to have her air-lifted to the Cromwell Hospital in London,’ Leo said bluntly.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘It should be here any minute soon. In terms of timing, it will probably get here faster than an ambulance would, even an ambulance with its sirens going.’

  In the midst of trying to process what sounded like complete gibberish to her, Brianna heard the distant sound of an overhead aircraft. Landing would be no problem. In fact, there couldn’t have been a better spot for an air ambulance to land. The noise grew louder and louder until it felt as though it would take the roof off the pub, and then there was a flurry of activity while she stood back, confused.