Taming The Notorious Billionaire (HQR Presents)

by Carole Mortimer

  She didn’t know what to say, couldn’t think what words of comfort would help her cousin now.

  ‘I haven’t been afraid of Rod recognising me,’ Kathy continued softly. ‘I was more afraid he would remember what had really happened and tell you the truth.’

  She shook her head. ‘He wouldn’t do that.’

  ‘No,’ Kathy acknowledged. ‘I should have known that he wouldn’t, not even if it meant losing you. It was just that I had lived with the lie so long I couldn’t bear for the truth to come out. I’ve been a coward, but no longer.’

  ‘You know that this will never go any further, don’t you?’ Keilly prompted softly. ‘It was all a long time ago, I think it’s better if it’s forgotten.’

  The tears began to fall unchecked down Kathy’s pale cheeks. ‘I think I’ve known all along that Rod would never tell anyone what really happened, known he was too much of a gentleman to reveal how stupid I had been. I just couldn’t be sure.’

  ‘You can now,’ Keilly said with certainty.

  ‘Yes,’ Kathy sighed. ‘But at what cost? Is it too late for the two of you to work things out?’

  She turned away. ‘Rod’s gone.’

  ‘Gone?’ Kathy looked startled. ‘What do you mean, he’s gone? I only spoke to him last night—’

  ‘Wherever he telephoned you from it wasn’t here,’ Keilly told her. ‘Barbie said he left soon after he had spoken to me, which was quite early.’

  ‘But I—’ Kathy was very pale again. ‘After all this I’m too late, aren’t I?’

  She sighed. ‘I don’t know. Maybe not,’ she comforted as her cousin looked stricken.

  ‘If he’s in London can’t you—’

  ‘He isn’t,’ she said dully. ‘He flew to America today.’

  ‘Oh,’ Kathy sighed.

  ‘Look, you go on home now,’ she decided firmly. ‘I have some thinking to do, and I’m sure you would like to get back to Peter. Everything really is all right between the two of you?’ she probed worriedly.

  Kathy’s smile was dazzling with happiness. ‘It’s better than it’s ever been, because there are no secrets between us now.’

  Keilly could understand that, there had been too many secrets between herself and Rod. But last night after he had gone she had realised he had to be protecting Kathy in some way, had even half guessed in what way it was. Poor Kathy, to have lived with that lie all these years. And poor Rod, to have been blamed, accused, of something he hadn’t done.

  But it warmed her, gave her hope, that even after he had left her last night, supposedly for the last time, he had made one last desperate attempt for their happiness, had telephoned Kathy in the hope that she would realise how important it was that she told the truth.

  But what should she do now? Should she follow him to America, perhaps risk being rejected for her lack of faith in him? Or should she play it safe and stay here, wait until he returned to London and then contact him? It would be a long week if she did the latter.

  CHAPTER TEN

  AS she sat on the plane the next day waiting to take off for Los Angeles she understood Rod’s complete dependence on Barbie when it came to organisation. The other woman had lost no time in booking her flight the previous day, had helped her pack, and had even driven her down to London in Rod’s car.

  Keilly had decided to tell Rod’s secretary of her decision shortly after Kathy left, had found the other woman just leaving the dining room. ‘Could I talk to you?’ she requested huskily.

  ‘Of course,’ Barbie agreed instantly. ‘Would you like to go somewhere more private?’ she grimaced as people from the dining room began to push past them, the hotel filled almost to capacity this holiday weekend.

  ‘I think that might be a good idea,’ she nodded ruefully.

  ‘How about my room?’ the other woman arched blonde brows.

  ‘All right.’ She followed Barbie up the stairs to her room, a very orderly room, even the bed made, although Keilly knew the cleaning ladies wouldn’t have got this far just yet.

  Barbie smiled at her revealing expression. ‘I always do it,’ she laughed softly. ‘I think it’s a throwback from having to be so organised at home; sometimes there I start to make the bed before my husband has got out of it! It isn’t always easy juggling my career with my family, although ultimately my husband and children come first. Rod knows and accepts that,’ she sat down on the meticulously made bed.

  Her own humour faded at the mention of Rod. ‘I’ve decided to—to go to America,’ she told the other woman in a rush—before she had time to change her mind!

  ‘Good for you,’ Barbie said approvingly.

  Keilly reserved judgment on the sense of what she was doing until she had seen and spoken to Rod. ‘What I need to know from you is where Rod is staying. And also—’

  ‘Now don’t worry about a thing,’ Barbie cut in firmly. ‘I’ll arrange it all.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Just relax, Keilly,’ she advised as she lifted up the telephone receiver and began to dial. ‘I’m used to doing this sort of thing.’

  ‘What sort of thing?’ she asked in a panicked voice, listening incredulously as Barbie was apparently connected with an airline, making arrangements for a seat for Keilly on tomorrow’s flight. ‘I can’t afford first class!’ she squeaked as Barbie put the telephone down with a satisfied smile. ‘I was thinking more in the Economy class,’ she did a mental calculation of her savings. ‘Or crawling in with the baggage,’ she added lamely.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ Barbie dismissed such an idea. ‘Rod always travels first class, and he would be very angry with me if I let you go to him any other way. Just relax, Keilly,’ she repeated soothingly. ‘If you’re going to be Rod’s wife you’ll have to get used to this sort of treatment.’

  Dull colour darkened her cheeks. ‘We haven’t discussed marriage—’

  ‘You will,’ the other woman predicted with certainty.

  Keilly wasn’t so sure, but she didn’t particularly care one way or the other. She wanted to be with Rod, and although he had told her he loved her and implied they would have a long relationship, he had never mentioned marriage. She no longer cared about such things, just wanted to be with him for as long as he needed her.

  ‘Now you go and start packing,’ Barbie instructed. ‘I’ll be up to help you as soon as I’ve booked your hotel room.’

  ‘My air-ticket—’

  ‘We’ll pick that up tomorrow when we get to the airport. Please just leave all the details to me, Keilly,’ she chided mockingly. ‘It’s my job, remember?’

  She felt suitably chastened, learning over the next twenty-four hours that Barbie was very good at her job. She had driven her to the airport with plenty of time to pick up the ticket and see that she was shown to the first-class lounge after booking in. After that Keilly had been taken over by the airline staff, taken to the flight gate, personally seated, her every wish granted during the hours of the flight. Her only previous experience of flying had been a school-trip six years ago, but then it had been a chartered flight, certainly nothing like this preferential treatment, although she had an idea some of it was due to Barbie’s whispered instructions when she took her to the desk to book in.

  As they neared Los Angeles she felt her stomach begin to do somersaults, going over Barbie’s instructions for when she landed for the hundredth time. Just tell the taxi driver the name of her hotel and he will do the rest, the name of her hotel was written on the piece of paper in her jacket pocket. It sounded simple enough; she only hoped it proved to be that way!

  All thought of the taxi and getting to the hotel fled her mind as she saw the man waiting for her at the airport. She walked towards Rod as if in a trance, not caring how he came to be here to meet her, only knowing she was glad that he was.

  Her heart felt as if it would burst with happiness by the time she reached his open arms, launching herself against him, laughing and crying at the same time, touching him as if she never wanted
to stop, all misunderstandings fleeing as their mouths met in fiery passion.

  ‘I’d love to stand here like this all day,’ Rod finally broke the kiss to murmur against her temple, holding her tightly as she couldn’t seem to stop shaking. ‘But we’re causing rather a congestion!’ he added teasingly.

  For the first time she became conscious of the fellow-travellers who were trying to get past them as they partly blocked their exit. Her blush at their curious looks soon became painfully obvious.

  Rod laughed indulgently. ‘They’re used to this sort of thing at airports.’

  ‘I’m not,’ she burrowed against his shirtfront to hide her embarrassment.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ he growled.

  She was quite willing to do that, allowing him to take her luggage as he led the way to a long black limousine waiting outside. ‘Yours?’ she asked softly as the driver quickly got out of the car to help put the luggage in the boot.

  ‘Courtesy of the people who organise the Oscars,’ he told her ruefully as he climbed into the back of the car beside her. ‘When they realise I haven’t even turned up for the presentation I doubt they will be feeling so friendly,’ he grimaced, his arm about her shoulders as he held her to his side. ‘But enough about that. Tell me—’

  ‘Rod, what do you mean you haven’t turned up?’ she sat back to look at him. ‘I’m sure you’re going to win.’

  ‘Maybe I will,’ he shrugged, very lean and attractive in fitted denims and a blue short-sleeved shirt. ‘If I do I’ve arranged for someone else to go up and collect it.’

  Keilly’s eyes widened. ‘You make it sound as if you win Oscars every day!’

  ‘On the contrary,’ he smiled at her. ‘I’ve never won one.’

  ‘Then why did you miss the chance to collect this one?’ she demanded indignantly. ‘When I asked you about it before you told me you were polite enough just to attend if you were nominated, that it didn’t matter if you won or not. You—’

  ‘Keilly, when Barbie telephoned me yesterday and told me you were coming here today, and what time you were arriving, I had to make a choice, whether to meet you or go to the Oscars. There really was no choice,’ the loving expression in his eyes told her she would always come first with him.

  She swallowed hard, not knowing whether to stay angry with him or kiss him. The latter won. ‘I love you. I love you, Rod,’ she murmured between kisses, oblivious to the fact that they weren’t alone. ‘But I insist you go to the Oscars. Is it too late?’ she asked anxiously.

  ‘No, people will only just be arriving now. But—’

  ‘Then you’re to go,’ she decided firmly. ‘We can talk when you get back.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere without you,’ he told her equally as stubbornly.

  ‘You have to—’

  ‘No.’

  She sighed at his implacability. ‘I’ll be quite happy waiting for you at the hotel.’

  ‘If I go you go.’ He looked at her challengingly.

  She gave a start of surprise. ‘I’m not invited. I’m not completely naïve, Rod, you have to be invited to these sort of things months ahead.’

  He shook his head. ‘My invitation said it was for myself and a guest.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘So what’s it to be?’ he arched dark brows. ‘Do we both go or neither of us?’

  As she looked into the warm love of his eyes she felt the last fears and doubts leave her. ‘We both go,’ she told him determinedly. ‘But we have so much to talk about, Rod. I have so much to tell you. Kathy came to see me, and—’

  ‘We can discuss it all later,’ he hugged her tightly to him. ‘All that matters at the moment is that you’re here and we’re together.’

  For the moment it did seem to be enough, the drive to the hotel passing all too quickly for Keilly, Rod’s kisses reducing her to a quivering mass of desire.

  ‘I’ll take you swimming tomorrow,’ he promised her as they drove by the ocean.

  She looked at the stillness of the deep blue water. ‘It doesn’t look very challenging,’ she derided.

  ‘No?’ he mocked, dark brows raised. ‘But I shall be with you,’ he added pointedly.

  She gave a husky laugh of pure enjoyment. ‘In that case I’ve changed my mind; it would be the biggest challenge of my life!’

  Rod wasted no time going to the desk to book her in once they reached the hotel, striding across the lobby to the lift with her at his side, the hotel seeming curiously empty after the rush and bustle of the city outside. ‘Most of the people staying here have gone to the theatre for the Oscars,’ he explained as they went up in the almost silent lift.

  Her eyes widened. ‘You mean I could bump into people like Glenda Jackson or Lauren Bacall, or Richard Gere, or—’

  He laughed indulgently, shaking his head. ‘A lot of the people invited actually live near here, at Malibu or Bel Air. I’ll take you for a drive round tomorrow,’ he told her at her awestruck expression. ‘Point out all the places of interest.’

  She blushed as they stepped out into the carpeted hallway, allowing him to lead the way to her room. ‘I must seem very silly to you,’ she mumbled. ‘Oh, Rod, I’m afraid I’m going to embarrass you—Goodness,’ she gasped as they entered the huge suite, the masculine articles lying about the lounge showing signs of habitation. ‘This is beautiful,’ she breathed, ‘but I can’t stay here. Barbie promised me she would—’

  ‘Barbie knows I wouldn’t let you stay anywhere else but with me in my suite,’ he cut in softly.

  She swallowed hard as his words penetrated, moistening her lips with the tip of her pink tongue. ‘Your—suite?’ she repeated slowly.

  ‘Yes,’ his mouth tightened slightly. ‘And this will be your bedroom,’ he opened the door to the right of the lounge.

  She glanced inside, finding it was as glamorous as the room they were in now, although its tidyness showed none of the habitation of the other room. ‘Which room do you sleep in?’ she asked shyly.

  He shrugged. ‘Over here,’ he opened a door on the other side of the lounge, revealing a bedroom much like the one she had just looked at, except this one obviously showed signs of Rod’s presence, his brush and cufflinks on the dressing-table, a towel thrown over a chair from where he had recently taken a shower, a discarded newspaper on the bed.

  She strolled past him, looking about her appreciatively. ‘I think I prefer this room.’

  ‘They’re identical,’ he said dryly.

  She looked at him with unflinching grey eyes. ‘No, they aren’t,’ she shook her head. ‘You sleep in this one too.’

  ‘Keilly—’ he was interrupted by the soft knock sounding on the outer door. ‘That will be your luggage,’ he predicted.

  ‘Oh good,’ she turned to follow him from the room. ‘You can help me decide what to wear,’ she frowned. ‘I don’t think I packed anything suitable…’

  Rod gave her an exasperated look before letting in the porter with her bags. ‘I’m really not that interested in going,’ he drawled. ‘So don’t get yourself in a state about it.’

  ‘You are going,’ she told him firmly after directing the porter to put her suitcase and overnight bag on Rod’s bed before he left—their bed, she mentally corrected herself, already imagining them together there later. She could hardly wait. ‘I was only—Oh, Barbie, you thought of everything,’ she spoke softly as she opened her suitcase to find the shimmering grey-blue gown she had worn the night of her aunt and uncle’s dinner party. She hadn’t packed it, which meant the other woman must have done. ‘She really is wonderful,’ she told Rod as she shook the gown from its folds in the suitcase, knowing from experience that it wasn’t the sort of gown that creased. It hadn’t.

  He nodded. ‘Yes, she is. Although not as wonderful as you.’

  She blushed at the compliment. ‘Shouldn’t you be changing too?’ she prompted as she began to undress, slightly unnerved about doing so in front of Rod in the clear light of day, telling herself not to
be ridiculous, that he had seen her naked before. Somehow it didn’t help.

  ‘Yes,’ he turned away, understanding her confusion. ‘Feel free to use the shower,’ he invited as he began to pull off his shirt. ‘I had one before I left for the airport.’

  She was grateful for his thoughtfulness, using the shower as an excuse to finish her undressing in the bathroom. It felt a little strange to be putting on evening clothes when it was still light and sunny outside, but she hurriedly showered and changed, determined Rod was going to be at the theatre if—when his name was read out for Best Actor.

  He looked magnificent when she emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, very distinguished in the black evening suit and snowy white shirt, his dark hair neatly brushed in place.

  ‘You look beautiful,’ he took her in his arms and began kissing her, the caress rapidly deepening to a desperate devouring as he parted her lips with his, engaging in a duel with her tongue that took her breath away. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay here?’ he invited huskily. ‘You must be tired, wouldn’t you rather we—went to bed?’

  It was very tempting, longing for the reassurance of his full possession. ‘I’d much rather stay here,’ she admitted throatily. ‘But I want you to be given what is rightly yours.’

  He grimaced. ‘Even if I’m so nervous I’m shaking with it?’

  She moved back a little to look at him, noticing for the first time the white ring of tension about his mouth, the restless movements of his hands. He really was nervous, the man she had believed to have supreme self-confidence at all times. ‘Don’t worry, darling, I’ll be with you,’ she gently caressed his rigidly clenched jaw.