The Millionaire's Chosen Bride. Susanne James

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СКАЧАТЬ heard him run swiftly up the stairs, his strong footsteps echoing through the place, and he came straight in to stand next to her. She turned to look up at him, trying to look pleased at his unexpected entrance. He was wearing jeans and a fine grey T-shirt, and his dark hair shone with healthy vigour…though he did tend to wear it rather long. Not that it didn’t suit his persona, she admitted—it was just that the men she usually mixed with all seemed to favour neat and formal hairstyles.

      He was holding a huge bouquet of roses and lilies, and he thrust them forward. ‘Morning, Mel,’ he said easily, smiling down at her. ‘Just a small welcome gift for your first day.’

      Melody was genuinely touched. ‘Oh…how lovely! And how unexpected!’ She took the bouquet from him, examining it appreciatively. ‘You must have known that these are my all-time favourites! But—thank you…you shouldn’t have!’

      ‘Oh, I think I should,’ he said, going over to the window, his hands in his pockets. ‘Buying houses isn’t an everyday occurrence, is it? At least, not for most people,’ he added. ‘I’ve brought a vase down from Poplars, by the way.’

      ‘Yes…I’ve just been thinking about all the stuff I’m going to have to buy,’ Melody said. ‘I hadn’t got around to the question of vases yet! But I shall certainly need some, because flowers always light up a house, don’t they?’

      He glanced down at her, thinking how exquisite she looked in a fresh, simple green cotton sundress which showed off the lightly tanned, smooth skin of her neck and shoulders to perfection. Her long pale hair was pulled back casually and held with a tortoiseshell clip. He’d noticed at their first meeting that she wore very little make-up, but what she did use certainly suited her, because from her appearance she might have stepped from the pages of a glossy magazine. This place didn’t need flowers to light it up, he thought. She did that all by herself!

      He pulled his thoughts up sharply. He didn’t want to admire this woman to the point where he started to feel anything for her, he told himself. If it hadn’t been for her, the cottage’s ownership would have been in very different hands, and it still peeved him beyond words that he hadn’t gone the extra mile. But how could he have known that he was so close? He’d only seen her, the other bidder, from the back during the auction, but there’d been something about the way she’d sat there that morning—the angle of her head, the slim, determined hand that had kept raising her card—depicting a businesswoman who was used to getting what she wanted.

      He turned away briefly. What was done was done—for the moment. He knew it was a long shot, but he did have a little time to perhaps change things, to make her see just what she had taken on and maybe convince her that this wasn’t what she really wanted. That it could become more of a burden than a bonus if it turned out that she simply did not have enough time away from her London life and job to justify the financial outlay and upkeep. He also felt instinctively that a town was where she fitted in—where everything you needed was on tap at all hours of the day. In this village tomorrow was always deemed soon enough for most people!

      Allowing her to go first, they went downstairs, and Melody turned on the kitchen tap and filled the large glass jug which Adam had brought with him. Pausing for a moment, she said lightly, ‘I really don’t know where to start. I mean…this kitchen could do with some work, though it seems to have been refitted at some point in the past.’ She looked around her doubtfully, then opened the fridge door and peered inside. ‘This is clean enough—and I suppose I won’t need anything any bigger.’ She stood back. ‘But there’s no washing machine, and I’ll certainly need one of those…’

      ‘The last owner died,’ Adam said matter-of-factly. ‘That’s why the place came on the market. And I think the washing machine was in a bad way, so it was chucked.’

      ‘I wonder if there’s room for a dishwasher—’ Melody began, and he interrupted.

      ‘Oh, I don’t think this kitchen has ever sported one of those. I’m afraid you’ll have to do everything by hand, Mel!’

      Melody said nothing as they wandered into the sitting room, where the sun was streaming in through the windows, lighting up all the dusty corners.

      ‘What are those two boxes on the floor doing there?’ Melody said, frowning.

      ‘Oh, I brought them with me—for us to sit down on,’ Adam said, promptly kicking one to one side and taking up position. ‘It’s quite comfy, actually—who needs expensive chairs? Now, then—’ he rubbed his hands together briskly ‘—I’ve come to help!’

      Melody looked at him, a faint feeling of hopelessness sweeping over her. This man was here to stay! Her worst fears were being realised! She was not going to be allowed to be anonymous, to be by herself and work things out quietly and in her own time.

      She placed the flowers carefully on the windowsill, and turned to look down at him.

      ‘I really don’t want to take up your time, Adam, or for you to use up your holiday on my behalf,’ she said evenly. ‘I’m sure you’ve other far more interesting things to think about than me and my cottage.’

      ‘Oh, not true,’ he said at once. ‘As a matter of fact, I’ve already been here a number of weeks, and I was beginning to get quite bored. Your current project might prove to be an interesting diversion for me—and, well, you know, a pair of brawny arms can be useful at times.’

      He looked pointedly at her own slender frame in a way which made Melody’s colour rise, and she shrugged resignedly. The fact was that being here now, in the revealing light of day, had made her feel less sure of herself. When they’d bought and furnished their flat in London, Crispin had been there, and they’d worked as a team and had lots of interested friends all helping out. But now she was here, alone, in virtually unknown territory—even though her mother had spoken many thousands of words about the place, which had made it seem familiar.

      Melody’s earlier euphoria was threatening to give way to a feeling of doubt. Had purchasing the cottage been something that she was going to regret? she wondered. Then she scolded herself! What was the matter with her? This wasn’t like her. Of course she’d cope alone—hadn’t her mother had to do that, all her life?

      ‘I vote that we first of all go to the Rose & Crown for coffee,’ Adam said brightly, ‘and then decide on a plan of action.’

      ‘It can’t be that time already, surely?’ Melody said, glancing at her watch. ‘Anyway, Fee’s breakfasts are so generous, coffee will seem an unnecessary indulgence.’

      She couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed lazily eating bacon, eggs, sausages and mushrooms, followed by lovely warm, crunchy toast and fresh farmhouse butter. Not to mention home-made marmalade!

      ‘Well, holidays are a time for indulging ourselves,’ Adam said firmly.

      Melody looked at him shrewdly. There was a distinct change in his attitude from when they’d first met, she thought—the animosity he’d demonstrated seemed to have disappeared. Her eyes narrowed briefly. If he thought that he’d met someone who’d be good for a holiday fling, he was going to be disappointed. She was not on the market for such things, thanks very much.

      Patting the other box for her to sit down, Adam leaned back nonchalantly. ‘See—this feels cosy already,’ he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

      ‘Um, well…not as cosy as it will do—in time,’ Melody retorted as she sat down as well.

      ‘Talking СКАЧАТЬ