Taming the Tycoon

chapter Five


Addie stood in the doorway, conscious of Nathaniel beside her as she stared at the large four-poster bed that dominated a room that was pretty damned generous itself. The cream lace canopy matched the cream lace curtains at the window. Afternoon sunlight streamed in, illuminating the plump snowy white quilt and matching pillows.

It looked fluffy and beckoning—like a cloud—even if the images it evoked were nowhere near as innocent. Just picturing Nathaniel’s dark sexiness amongst all that white, his fallen angel mouth perfectly at home, was causing her pulse to trip a little.

“Wow,” she said.

“Indeed.” Nathaniel nodded.

Addie’s belly clenched. “I didn’t bring any pajamas.”

“I don’t own pajamas.”

They both stared for a moment longer. Addie was grateful when Nathaniel limped into the room, crutches in hand. The bed was utterly entrancing—the kind that should be in all honeymoon suites—and she was glad to have something else to look at.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said as he dumped his satchel and the crutches on one of the formal wing chairs that sat in front of a Victorian-looking fireplace with an exquisite decorative mantel.

Addie looked at the floor. It was covered in rich rugs concealing most of the aged uneven stonework. “You can’t sleep on the floor,” she protested. “You’re injured.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No,” she insisted.

He quirked his brow. “Are you offering?”

Addie snorted. “After four months of my life sleeping on a hospital bed they could have used in a torture chamber, and a couple of years in a sleeping bag in the back of a Kombi, I made a vow to never sleep on anything other than a nice, thick mattress ever again.” She folded her arms as she prepared to throw her proposition out there. “We can share.”

She held her breath, wishing she could tell what the hell was going on behind those fathomless blue eyes.

“No.”

She stared him down, her pulse pounding. “It makes sense, Nate.”

It was satisfying to see a little pulse jerking at the angle of his jaw. “It’s Nathaniel,” he said, his voice all gravelly.

Addie shrugged because the man was too used to getting his own way and she was damned if she was going to be one of his yes-women. Especially if they were going to share a bed. The more pissed off he was, the greater the distance he’d keep.

“I kind of like Nate. It suits you. Plus, if we’re sharing a bed”—a smile played on her mouth—“we should be less formal.”

He shoved a hand on his hip and Addie noticed how it exposed his abdomen to her gaze. Even encased in fabric, she could tell his belly was flat. It probably had those fascinating dips where his abdominals met his hip bones.

She’d always been a sucker for those.

“There will be no sharing, Adelaide.”

Addie rolled her eyes. “Methinks you doth protest too much.” She tossed her hair. “We’re both adults, Nate. I’m sure we can control ourselves.”

He folded his arms and leaned his butt against the back of the chair. “Do you have any idea what happens to an adult man around five o’clock in the morning?”

Addie swallowed at the silky inquiry. His voice seemed to have dropped some more as she became entranced with his long fingers drumming against his bicep.

“While the rest of the world sleeps, a certain part of our anatomy is very, very awake. And it’s really not that picky at that time of the morning, either. In fact, it’s probably going to consider a warm, sleepy woman, no matter how crazy she is, fair game. Are you prepared for that? Because I’m almost thirty-five years old and I’ve never been able to control my early morning wakeup call.”

Addie felt skewered to the spot by the scenario he just painted. Him and her. A set of snowy white sheets. Some morning glory. She glanced at the bed, a vision of him tumbling her over and over in it clouding the issue.

She looked back at him primly. “I’m assuming youcan control what you do with it.”

His gaze didn’t waver as his fingers stopped their drumming. “But what if I don’t want to?”

She swallowed. Good question. Which raised another—what if she didn’t want him to? “We’ll put some pillows down the middle.”

Nathaniel quirked an eyebrow. “How very Victorian.”

Addie glanced around at the antique furnishings. “I think it’s the room,” she murmured.

“Look,” he said checking his watch. “How about we decide later? We can’t keep those two waiting down there by themselves for too much longer. God alone knows what they’ll think if we don’t make an appearance soon.”

Addie gave a half smile. “Isn’t that what you want?”

He shook his head emphatically. “Not if they’re already planning the wedding.”



Addie spent an enjoyable three hours traipsing around the farm in an old Jeep driven by Eunice who had obviously missed her calling as a NASCAR driver. Nathaniel ratcheted “lethal” up several notches by changing into jeans and a T-shirt and, forgoing his crutches, helping his mother with some heavy lifting and carrying despite her protests over his injury.

At one point, a fence needed fixing and he stunned Addie by performing the job with brisk competence. Somehow she hadn’t pictured him at home in this environment. A boardroom, sure. The stock exchange, a flashy London gala—absolutely.

Not down on the farm.

For a moment, as she watched his biceps strain and the denim covering his legs pull taut, she pictured him in full cowboy garb complete with belt buckle and a Stetson pulled low over his face.

Flannel shirt blowing open…

Sweat glistening on his pecs…

Hip dips peeking out above his low-rider jeans…

Luckily, a curious alpaca called George chose that moment to sniff her neck and halted thoughts that had dropped somewhat south of Nathaniel’s imaginary buckle. Like, did cowboys go commando?

The animals were quite entrancing, really. Two hundred woolly, long-necked creatures strutted around regally, grazing as if they were giraffes on the savanna of Africa instead of odd-looking creatures in the middle of the English countryside. She loved their long lashes and strange soothing hum that sounded as if they were singing to each other.

It was a surreal experience made even better by her two chatty safari guides who obviously adored their herd and knew every one by name. Addie was amazed at the energy of the two older women and utterly caught up in their passion. Their plans for the farm and their monthly market stall where they sold the fleece were interesting and Addie asked endless questions as she helped them prepare the evening meal.

They even took her vegetarianism in their stride. Eunice had dozens of vegetarian cookbooks from her own flirtation with veganism years before. She regaled Addie with stories of her failed cooking attempts as she whipped up a delicious vegetarian risotto as if it were no more trifling than making a marmite sandwich.

“I just couldn’t give up bacon, Addie, no matter how hard I tried,” she’d lamented.

Addie admitted bacon had been hard for her, too.

They ate out on the large terrace that overlooked beautifully manicured gardens sloping down to the pasture fence. They watched the alpacas graze as the sun slowly set and Addie felt as if she’d been dropped into the middle of a Salvador Dali landscape.

Where nothing felt familiar but everything seemed right.

It was hard to believe it was almost nine when they gathered the dishes and retired indoors. Addie was tired and pleasantly full but the thought of going up to a bed made for rolling around in with a man who looked like he’d been hand-picked for the activity made her reluctant to mount the stairs. And when Nathaniel excused himself to spend some time on the computer, it gave her the perfect opportunity to stick around with his nearest and dearest.

Eunice smiled as Addie joined them in the sitting room with a tray of hot chocolates she’d made for each of them. “Sit here, my duck,” she said, shifting her knitting slightly and patting the cushion next to her on the chintzy two-seater. Addie passed the mugs then sat.

Eunice tutted. “Nate works too hard.”

“I know,” his mother sighed.

She peered over her glasses at Addie, her knitting needles clacking. “Fancy neglecting a sweet young thing like you,” she mused, then flicked her gaze to her daughter. “When you’re so obviously in love with each other.”

Addie almost choked on her hot chocolate, missing the faint quirk of Eunice’s mouth. Their deception weighed heavily on her conscience. It had seemed a necessary evil back in London, but she hadn’t been expecting Nathaniel’s family to be so damn…nice.

“Well, it’s just the beginning, really. We’re just—you know—taking each day as it comes.”

Addie had been reaching for vague but was afraid the blank looks coming her way meant she’d come across as being several IQ points lower than the average house brick.

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Eunice murmured, continuing her knitting. “We’d always pictured a Hill Top wedding, haven’t we, dear?”

Nathaniel’s mother nodded. “About now, in late summer, when the days are long and the weather is divine.”

Addie looked from one to the other. Bloody hell. She needn’t worry about Nate’s five a.m. wakeup call because if he got wind of this conversation, he was going to murder her in her sleep.

“Is that alpaca wool?” she asked, desperately trying to turn the conversation around.

Eunice glanced at her daughter briefly, then nodded. “Yes. As I was saying earlier today, Delphine spins and dyes it and I knit it.”

“May I?” Addie asked, relieved to be steering the conversation from the rocks as she reached out and felt the wool.

It practically melted beneath her fingers it was so soft. She fired off some more questions about the process as Eunice’s needles clicked away. Addie’s heart rate, which had been keeping pace with the needles during the wedding chatter, slowly returned to normal as the two women prattled on about a subject that was obviously close to their hearts.

“This is for the market stall?” Addie asked as she fingered the wool again.

Eunice nodded. “We sell the fleece both dyed and undyed and these wraps that I knit. I also do throws for chairs and sometimes blankets.”

“It’s exquisite,” Addie murmured because it truly was a thing of beauty.

An idea started to form in her brain as she marveled at the loveliness of the garment taking shape before her eyes. And she was just about to put it out there when the lights went out.

For a moment nobody said anything, then Nathaniel’s mother said, “Nate’s going to be pissed.”

On cue they heard a curse as something bumped in the hallway and then, “Everyone okay?” came from somewhere behind Addie.

“We’re fine,” his mother called out as she struck a match and illuminated the room, quickly lighting a lantern that Addie hadn’t even been aware was sitting on a low table beside her chair. A soft yellow glow oozed into all the dark corners.

“I’ll ring the electric company,” he announced from the doorway.

“Don’t be silly, darling,” his mother said. “It happens all the time and will be back on before you know it. Come and sit with us.”

“Yes, come and sit with your dear old Grandy,” Eunice added.

“I’ll move,” Addie said preparing to shift to the other single chair.

“No, no,” Eunice said, placing a restraining hand on Addie’s and rising quickly. “We can’t have the two lovebirds sitting apart.” And she shuffled to the other chair in the blink of an eye.

Pretty fast for an octogenarian with a bad hip and a bundle of knitting to juggle.

Addie sat very straight as Nathaniel limped into the room unaided and lowered his bulk into the seat beside her. It was a reasonably roomy two-seater but suddenly with the warmth and the sweet spicy smell of him, it felt as if they were in each other’s laps.

Oh, God, Addie, do not think about his lap!

Eunice, knitting again, shot them both a smile as they sat as far from each other as possible. “Well, are you going to cuddle the girl or not, Nate?” she demanded in her foghorn voice. “We have romantic mood lighting and everything.” She glanced at her co-conspirator. “Anyone would think you just picked the girl up off the street.”

Addie’s heartbeat accelerated as she felt Nathaniel tense beside her. She glanced at him, trying not to think how he literally had picked her up off the street. She gave him an awkward smile. He had a desperate Fix this look in his eyes and Addie couldn’t help but be amused that a man who could broker million-pound deals didn’t know how to handle a little old lady.

It was strangely endearing.

“It’s okay,” she assured Eunice as she moved closer to Nathaniel, sliding a hand onto his leg, near his knee, and dropping her head onto his shoulder. “Nate’s not big on public displays of affection, are you”—she swallowed—“darling?”

He seemed to tense up even more beside her. She ran her other hand up his arm, resting it against a beautifully rounded bicep and giving it a gentle squeeze.

She almost jumped out of her skin when Nathaniel dropped his hand to her leg a little higher than where hers rested on him.

A little higher than was decent.

“I much prefer to keep it private.”

There was a gravelly undertone to his voice that caused an involuntary tensing of every single muscle group Addie owned. Her belly was so rigid, she’d bet rocks could be bounced off it.

Visions of the huge bed waiting for them upstairs tightened everything another notch.

“Such a cute couple,” Eunice beamed at them. “Aren’t they cute, Delphine?”

Nathaniel’s mother nodded vigorously. “Oh yes, definitely a keeper, this one.”

Addie’s smile felt one hundred percent fake, but that was the least of her worries as Nathaniel’s hand started a lazy stroke back and forth along the length of her thigh.

For a moment everything froze.

And then melted into a puddle as lust spread to her muscles, undulating like sultry saxophone music, licking flames to every erogenous zone she owned and a few new ones she hadn’t realized she possessed.

“So, about your knitting,” Addie said desperately, trying to get her mind off the heat that was practically melting her clothes off. “Have you ever thought of selling it in the retail market?”

Another pass of his hand. Rippling through her pelvic floor like a serpent, fanning heat deep inside her until she couldn’t stand it any longer. She placed a stilling hand on his. He looked down at her, then at their hands and then back at her, confusion in his gaze.

Had he not been aware he was doing it?

Good. Hopefully he hadn’t also been aware of what it was doing to her. She removed her hand from his.

“Oh no, dear,” Eunice said. “It’s just a hobby.”

Nathaniel’s cessation and Eunice’s words dragged Addie back from the broiling pit of lust marinating her insides and she was able to think a little straighter. Although the warm press of him down her side was still distracting.

“I think these would sell like a bomb in London,” she said. “I’d take some for my business in a flash.”

Eunice stopped knitting. She looked at Delphine then back at Addie, peering at her over the top of her glasses. But it was Nathaniel who spoke first.

“Come now…darling…you know how competitive the retail market is in London.”

Addie blinked as he frowned down at her. What on earth was his problem? “Natural fibers are huge,” she said, fixing a smile on her face that hurt like blazes. “Particularly in my field.”

“Yes, but you couldn’t promise that anyone would go for them when there are so many high-end women’s fashion stores around. Particularly at the docks.”

Addie gritted her teeth as their gazes locked. “I know my clientele fairly well.”

“Do you really think there might be interest?” Eunice interrupted.

Nate looked at his grandmother. “Grandy…”

“Nate,” his mother said. “Let’s hear Addie out.”

Addie felt suddenly self-conscious as all eyes settled on her. She was aware of Nate’s broodingly intense ones in particular. “I do. I really do. Nate’s right, you can’t always predict the market, but I could certainly trial some for a while.”

Eunice sat forward in her seat. “Really?”

Addie smiled her first genuine smile since Nathaniel had parked his delectable backside next to her. “Really.”

“I don’t think you should get your hopes up, Grandy,” Nathaniel interjected.

“Wouldn’t that be marvelous, Delphine?” Eunice beamed, ignoring her grandson’s caution.

“Have you got some more stock?” Addie asked.

“Oh yes.” Eunice nodded. “I’ll show you in the morning if you like.”

The lights came on as Addie nodded. “See,” Eunice said, beaming at Nathaniel. “It’s a sign!”

Nathaniel went to say something but Eunice was standing and gathering her knitting. “Right. Time for bed. Farm life starts early,” she chirped.

Nathaniel’s mother also stood. “I’m off, too.”

Addie rose to her feet, missing the warmth down her side but not the skip in her pulse. “I’ve had the most wonderful day,” she said to them, her pulse tripping again as as Nathaniel stood beside her all large and warm and male.

“It’s been our pleasure, Addie,” his mother said, reaching out to squeeze her arm, “definitely our pleasure.”

Delphine kissed her son on the cheek. “Good night, darling,” she said. “It’s so great to have you home.”

Eunice also pecked him on the cheek. “Here,” she said to Addie, thrusting a plastic tub at her. “This is for his thigh. A little pot of magic.” She patted Addie’s hand. “Make sure you massage it in good and hard.”

Eunice shuffled past them with a spring in her step as Addie looked down at the offering.

And tried not to think about good. Or hard.



Nate rounded to the far side of the bed and threw his crutches on the snowy white quilt. He needed some barrier between them. He wasn’t sure if it was about the shawls, the enforced snuggling on the couch, or the instructions his meddling old biddy of a grandmother had given Addie, but he was pissed.

Good and hard.

He hadn’t been able to think of anything else for the time it had taken him to traverse the distance to the bedroom with his damned hindering crutches. Especially with Addie’s butt swaying like a hypnotist’s watch in front of him with every swing of her hips.

“Don’t encourage them,” he said testily. “I don’t want their hopes up, only for you to dash them when nobody buys some weird alpaca ponchos.”

They may exasperate him, but he loved those two women and would defend them with his life. He didn’t want anyone taking them for a ride.

And the very last thing he wanted was for Addie to ingratiate herself into his life even more.

Addie raised an eyebrow. “You obviously know zip know about women’s fashion.”

He snorted. “I know plenty about women’s clothing.”

Addie shoved her hands on her hips. “Peeling women out of it doesn’t count.”

Nathaniel ignored the jibe because he did not need to think about peeling Addie out of those denim cutoffs. “I won’t have them hurt, Addie.”

“You think that’s what I want?”

“I think you’re going to waltz out of their lives as quickly as you waltzed in.” With any luck.

He took a step forward, about to make the point about being the one left to pick up the pieces when the fashion world was not laid asunder by quaint Devonshire alpaca fashions, but his thigh twinged and he grabbed for the bed.

Addie frowned and headed toward him. “Are you okay?”

Nathaniel held up a hand to ward her off. He did not need her fussing over him. She needed to stay on her side of this bloody debauched bed! “I’m fine,” he said irritably. “Just not used to farm work anymore, I guess.”

Addie stalled by the end of the bed. “You overdid it.”

“Mum is in her sixties. Grandy is eighty. Eight zero! They’re doing the work of much younger people. All that heavy lifting and carting can’t be good for them.” He absently massaged his thigh. “I keep employing farm hands to help them and they keep sending them away.”

She took a step toward him. “That must be frustrating.”

He snorted at the understatement. How was he supposed to achieve his own goals when he was worried that one of them was going to fall and break a hip? “You have no idea.”

“There’s this?” she said holding up the tub.

Nathaniel looked at it. A little tub of temptation.

Good and hard.

Was that how Eve offered the apple to Adam? All big gray eyes? All good and hard?

She rolled the pot in her hands. “Your grandmother seems to think it’s magic.”

Nathaniel followed the circular motion of her hands. Could almost feel her rubbing it into his aching thigh muscle. So damned close to another muscle he did not trust to behave itself during such an encounter.

“My grandmother thinks the sun rising is magic,” he said. “And that fairies play at the bottom of the garden. And trust me, that—whatever homemade remedy it is from the great white witch Eunice—is going to smell. Really, really bad. I know this from many unforgettable childhood incidents. Apparently if it doesn’t smell bad, it doesn’t work.”

Addie looked at the pot. “Okay. But you can’t sleep on the floor tonight.”

Nathaniel doubted he could even get down on the floor at the moment. His frustration level cranked up another notch. “Fine,” he conceded.

They both looked at the bed. Big and large and white.

“They don’t make them like that anymore,” Addie mused.

Nathaniel nodded. “Nope,” he agreed, staring some more. It was the same bed he always slept in. He’d just never noticed how decadent it was before.

“The pillows down the middle idea doesn’t seem so crazy now, does it?” she asked.

He looked at her, all big gray eyes and lovely mouth and that stretchy T-shirt molding her breasts to perfection.

She so wasn’t his type.

And he still wanted her.

How on earth was he going to lie next to her all night and not wind up reaching for her when his body was telling him that was exactly what he should do?

He couldn’t control his subconscious. His five a.m. wakeup call was a classic example of that.

He looked at her across acres of mattress. They were going to need a bigger bed.





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