The Tycoon's Delicious Distraction

by Maggie Cox

  Her memory of the conversation was upsettingly fixated on Sir Henry’s enquiry as to whether Hal was seeing any ‘nice’ or ‘suitable’ girls at the moment. Nothing could have made her feel more out of place. Not just out of place, but heartsick, because she was in love with a man who was so clearly out of her league that it was pure fantasy to imagine even for an instant that she might have a future with him. Unfortunately Kit wasn’t one of those ‘nice’ and ‘suitable’ girls that Hal’s father wanted for his son. And, that being so, she would probably nurse her hurt and regret at not being able to be with Hal for ever.

  You’re such a fool, Kit... How could you have been so stupid? You’re your mother all over again!

  Furiously berating herself, she buried her face in her hands and cried and cried until she felt she couldn’t cry any more. There wasn’t a single place in her body where she didn’t ache for Hal. Everything about him—the way he looked and smiled, the warm, sensual scent of his body, even the way he teased and provoked her to distraction—had ensured Kit would be an addict for him for life. It was as though he’d put her under a spell that she’d never be free of, no matter how hard she might try.

  But, since she couldn’t have him, the only thing she could look forward to was the prospect of the little bolthole she’d been working towards for most of her life. Making it into a reality. Perhaps when she had that she might at least have the satisfaction of achieving the one thing that she’d set out to do to make her life better. As for having a meaningful relationship... It was something that wasn’t even remotely likely. Not now. Not when Hal Treverne had ruined any chance that she’d ever be whole enough for anyone else again.

  Slipping off her shoes, she wearily tugged her sweater over her head and threw it onto the bed. Then she turned and headed for the bathroom. Usually a long hot soak in the tub was her therapy of choice to help soothe her and put things into perspective when she’d had a bad day. But, knowing that wasn’t going to be the case tonight, she opted for a shower instead. After that she intended to go straight to bed.

  At Sir Henry’s suggestion she would take the opportunity to have an early night because he and his son had ‘a lot to talk about’. She wasn’t to worry, he’d said, because he would help Hal to his bedroom and see that he got his medication if he needed it. There was no need for them to disturb her. Every word of that little speech had sliced through Kit’s heart like a sharpened scythe, because it had only served to remind her that she was already becoming superfluous to Hal’s needs. The fact was he had access to a raft of people he could call upon for help if he wanted to. His wealth pretty much saw to that. Would he even miss her when the time came for her to leave? Kit speculated forlornly.

  Underneath the hot spray of the shower, she disproved the belief that she had no more tears left to cry and helplessly, despairingly, cried again.

  When she finally emerged from the glass cubicle she felt shaken and drained to the core. She didn’t even feel as if she had the energy to dry herself. Scared at how powerfully she seemed to be unravelling, she determinedly switched her focus to the practicalities of getting ready for bed. To that end, she brushed her teeth, properly dried her hair, then unpacked her holdall to retrieve the cosily warm pyjamas she’d brought with her. They were a lot more practical than the silk chemise she’d worn the night Hal had seduced her, but the sight of them did little to help alleviate her sorrow. They were just another reminder that she’d never know another night of passion with the man she loved again.

  Turning out the elegant lamp next to the bed, wanting to shut out not just the day’s events but everything that troubled her, she closed her eyes. All she could do now was pray for an unbroken night’s sleep in which to recover her strength and to somehow find the will and the means to overcome her sorrow so she could carry on with life regardless. God knew her mother had had to do just that more than once. If she could do it, then so could her daughter...

  * * *

  In Kit’s dream, someone was tapping on the door. The repetitive sound didn’t seem to abate, and finally it pierced her already fitful sleep and made her realise it was no dream but solid, disturbing fact. Dazedly scrambling to sit up, she pushed back the silky curtain of hair that brushed her face and stared over at the door. All she could see beneath the edges was an unbroken sliver of dimmed light that came from the corridor outside. There was no evidence of anyone’s feet moving. Her head felt fuzzy and she couldn’t think straight. Icy fear had robbed her of the ability. Was she still dreaming? It was hard to tell.

  When the tapping sound abruptly ceased, she sucked in a relieved breath and nervously glanced round the room. Perhaps it had been a dream after all?

  The moonlight outside her window dappled the emerald-green counterpane that covered the bed with haunting shadows, and did the same to the various pieces of dark antique furniture that were arranged round the room. Kit’s heart galloped in fear in case a ghost suddenly appeared. She was already frightened out of her wits enough, without having to contend with some ghostly apparition!

  When another bout of tapping broke the uneasy silence that had descended, this time with a bit more force, Kit remembered that Hal’s room was next door. What if he was in urgent need of her help? She was mortified that it hadn’t registered before that the knocking on the door was probably coming from him.

  Shoving aside the counterpane, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and hurried across the rug-covered stone flags to open the door. Her heart was already bumping anxiously against her ribs even before she set eyes on the man who waited outside. When she did, her heart bumped even harder. He was sleepy-eyed and tousle-haired, with a fresh growth of dark beard studding his chiselled jaw, and gazing into Hal’s golden eyes was like stumbling onto a never-to-be forgotten glimpse of heaven.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

  His answer was a provocative lopsided grin. ‘Nothing now that I’m looking at you, angel.’

  The smoky cadence of his voice somehow transmitted itself to Kit’s muscles and made them feel dangerously weak. ‘How long have you been knocking on the door?’ she asked huskily. ‘I thought I was dreaming.’

  ‘I wasn’t keeping track of the time. I just thought I’d stay here until I wore you down with my dogged persistence, got you to come and see who it was and hopefully let me in.’

  Unconsciously clutching her pyjama top, agitatedly twisting the material into a knot in the process, Kit stared at him in disbelief, suddenly realising the only reason he was standing was because he was using his crutches to help him. Hadn’t his father had the sense to get his wheelchair for him? She’d left him the car keys and had strongly emphasised that he shouldn’t let his son rely solely on his walking aids to get to his room. He’d already told her that the guest rooms on the ground floor were right at the back of the house.

  ‘Are you crazy? You should never have stood out there for so long. You’ll have to come in and sit down on the bed for a while.’

  ‘That invitation is music to my ears, sweetheart. I’m certainly not going to argue.’ He winced a little, as though the strain of standing upright had unquestionably taxed him.

  Again Kit berated herself for not doing her job properly—for leaving him. It didn’t matter that he’d been with his father...no one knew better than she did what he needed. The impassioned thought sent a scalding, searing heat surging through her bloodstream that was like a swell of molten honey.

  Biting down on her lip, she waited until Hal had passed her before shutting the door behind them. She noted he was still dressed in the clothes he’d been wearing to travel in. She had no idea of the time but it was obvious he hadn’t been to bed yet. What did he think he was doing, staying up so late, when his surgeon had told him it was extremely important he got as much rest as possible while his leg healed?

  ‘That’s better.’ Expelling a grateful sigh, he dropped down onto
the rumpled green counterpane and handed her his crutches. ‘Can you put these somewhere?’

  ‘Sure.’ Kit laid them against the striped green couch at the end of the bed, where they would be easily accessible. Then, folding her arms over her chest, she asked, ‘Why on earth have you stayed up so late? Is there something you want to discuss that can’t wait until the morning?’

  His avid gaze intensifying a little, for a long moment Hal looked to be deep in thought. ‘As a matter of fact, there is. But first I wanted to tell you something. My dad and I have been having a father and son talk—probably the first genuine discussion we’ve had for years. God knows it’s long overdue. Turns out he doesn’t think I’m such a disaster after all. In fact he tells me he’s more than a little awed by my success and my courage at pursuing my “hair-raising stunts” as he calls them—even though he can’t always understand it. He’s always thought that the reason I’m so reckless is because I don’t value my life enough—that I must be suffering from some sort of depression brought about by my mother leaving when I was little. That seriously grieves him.

  ‘He blames himself for not being there for me as often as he would have liked after she left, and he said that he wished it could have been different. But as well as making sure he’s protecting mine and Sam’s legacy he’s so focused on taking care of the estate and the people who work for him because it’s their livelihood too. He has to make those things his priority. Who could have predicted that he’d be so honest with me? You were right when you said I should come to see him, Kit. I’m glad that I did. Hearing the truth about how he really feels about me has helped lay a lot of the ghosts from my past that have haunted me to rest. Like any good parent, he just wanted the best for his children—even if I couldn’t always see that that was his intention. Anyway, it feels good to clear the air and have the chance to repair things.’

  ‘Then I suppose I shouldn’t moan at you for staying up so late, since something good has come out it. But I don’t think you should stay up for much longer. Not unless you intend to spend the whole of tomorrow resting and taking it easy. I think it’s time you turned in and went to bed.’

  One corner of Hal’s engaging mouth lifted intriguingly. ‘That brings me nicely to the main reason I knocked on your door sweetheart. I do indeed need to go to bed—but not on my own. I’d much rather have some company tonight and the company I want and need most in the world—not just for tonight—is you, Kit.’

  Nothing could have prepared Kit for the dizzying joy that swept through her at his unexpected confession. In fact her feelings so overwhelmed her that she couldn’t find the words or the actions to express how much they meant to her. But tainting her unexpected happiness was the distressing memory of the conversation she’d overheard between Hal and his father about him taking up his inheritance.

  ‘I can’t be the company you need most in the world, Hal,’ she said soberly. ‘Not when one day soon you’ll be married to someone else...someone much more suitable than I am.’

  ‘What on earth are you talking about? Who told you I’m soon going to be married to someone else?’

  ‘It’s obvious, isn’t it? I didn’t realise the extent and importance of your family legacy until I came here. It’s understandable that you’ll need to marry someone from your own class when one day you’re going to inherit this estate.’

  Frowning, Hal stared at her as though she were speaking a foreign language he didn’t understand. Then comprehension dawned on him.

  ‘Did you by any chance overhear a conversation between me and my dad? Specifically the part where he asked me if I would one day come back to take up my inheritance?’

  Feeling uncomfortably guilty, Kit nodded. ‘I did. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It’s just that I was on my way back from the bathroom and your father—well, he doesn’t speak quietly.’

  To her astonishment, Hal threw back his head and laughed.

  ‘He certainly doesn’t speak quietly,’ he agreed. His expression quickly became serious again. ‘What else did you hear?’

  ‘I heard you tell him that you would marry one day and return, but only when the time was right. Then, when he asked you when that would be, I heard you tell him he had to be patient.’

  ‘That’s all? You didn’t hear anything else?’

  ‘No. That was enough.’

  ‘Enough? For what, exactly?’

  ‘It was enough to make me realise that I shouldn’t delude myself that you’ll ever want to have a serious relationship with me.’

  ‘Is that really what you believe, Kit?’ His brow furrowing in concern, Hal reached out a hand and curled it round her wrist. Then he pulled her towards him.

  For a few moments she teetered, anxiously trying to regain her balance and not fall against him. But he was already winding his arms round her waist to steady her, and gazing up into her eyes as though he would never willingly tear his gaze away to look at anything else. At once the scent of his warm, virile body enveloped her and she knew that even if she could muster the most powerful will in the world she wouldn’t be able to deny him anything that he desired if it gave him pleasure and made him happy.

  ‘What am I to believe, if not that?’

  ‘How about that I honestly want to have a serious relationship with you? That I’ll go crazy if I can’t have the one woman in the world who means more to me than anybody else?’

  Every other thought in her head was obliterated at that heartfelt assertion. Sorrow seemed a million light years away when Hal looked at her the way he was looking at her now. As if she was something infinitely precious and he would willingly sacrifice everything he owned to keep her safe.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ‘I CAN HARDLY believe it,’ Kit admitted softly.

  ‘Well, you must—because it’s the truth.’

  Her handsome companion’s voice was gravelly with emotion.

  ‘You might travel to the ends of the earth, Kit Blessington, but wherever you go I swear I’ll come and find you and bring you home.’

  A warm surge of tears swam into her eyes. ‘You mean it? You’re not just saying that?’

  Hal’s handsome face was immediately perturbed. ‘I might not always agree with everything you say or do when we’re together, and I’m sure sometimes sparks will fly when I feel the need to hold my ground and you protest, but one thing I promise you: I will never lie to you about my feelings. You have my word on that.’

  ‘What feelings are we talking about, Hal?’ Right then it wouldn’t have been difficult to convince Kit that she was dreaming. Having her wishes fulfilled had never happened very often, and more often than not she expected to be disappointed.

  ‘Don’t you know? Can’t you guess? I thought I’d made it perfectly clear.’

  It was hard to hear him over the sonorous thumping of her heart, let alone give herself permission to speculate. ‘If it was so clear then I wouldn’t need to ask, would I?’

  Shaking his head, Hal bemusedly acceded to her tremulous suggestion. ‘All right, then. I’ll tell you.’ His tawny, long-lashed eyes visibly darkened. ‘I’m mad about you, Kit. To make it even clearer, so there’s no possibility of confusion, I’m head-over-heels in love with you, and I’ll happily spend the rest of my days showing you how much I mean that—mean it with all my heart.’

  Kit stared at him in shock even as her heart leapt joyfully. ‘You really love me? I mean—I know I’m not the type of girl you normally go for. I’m very ordinary. And I’m not just saying that because I’m fishing for compliments. I’m...I’m being realistic.’

  ‘Well, maybe it’s time you woke up to a new reality, Kit. One in which you start to realise how beautiful, sexy and desirable you truly are.’

  She could still hardly believe what she was hearing. ‘You know what? Not only do you have a worrying predilection for dangerous sports, H
enry Treverne, but I’ve come to realise that you’re a very dangerous man too.’

  ‘Hmm...why do you say that, I wonder?’ His lips quirking in a gentle grin, he tenderly pushed away some coiled Titian strands from the side of her face and let his palm linger there, intermittently stroking the pad of his thumb down over her cheek.

  Inside the sprigged cotton of her pretty pyjamas, the tips of Kit’s breasts—already so acutely sensitive whenever he was near—tingled and hardened. They surged against the lightweight material, desperately seeking his touch.

  ‘I say it because it’s true—and the reason I find you dangerous is because I love you too. And when you love someone it inevitably makes you vulnerable. That’s something I vowed I’d never allow myself to be when I left home, because life with my mother—the one person I loved more than anybody else—was such an emotional rollercoaster ride it was frightening. I longed for some stability for us both when I was young—a place that we could call our own. But it didn’t happen. Because whenever my mum met someone and started to trust them they usually ended up breaking her heart and fleecing her of every penny. Then we’d have to move on again. I constantly lived in fear that something would happen to her when she was down and upset about a man because I saw how vulnerable it made her. So I decided not to risk the same thing happening to me. The last thing I expected to happen when I came to work for you was that I’d come to love you, Hal.’

  The sense of wonder at his revelation that he reciprocated her feelings couldn’t prevent her still being anxious about the pain she’d suffer if anything ever happened to him—or, worse still, if he should ever leave her. But realising that was just old programming kicking in, because she’d grown up fearing that if she got involved with a man he would behave in the same destructive way as her mother’s various unreliable boyfriends, Kit knew she had to trust that her own path was more hopeful. But she still wanted to come clean about her fears to Hal.