The Tycoon's Marriage Deal Read online

  What was the point of abstaining from sex when she had no intention of ever marrying? Not now. Not after being publicly humiliated at the wedding she had planned and looked forward to with such hope for the future. That was why she kept her wedding cake and dress as a reminder of her foolishness. A reminder of how stupid she had been to believe in the fairy tale.

  The fairy tale sucked.

  It was a big fat double-crossing lie.

  It was a trap for romantic fools who thought life wasn’t fulfilling without a partner. She could do just fine without one. Coupledom wasn’t for her any more. No more pandering to a man. No more cooking meals she didn’t like just because he liked them. No more watching bloodthirsty action movies or tediously boring sporting matches.

  Single and Loving It. That would be her...eventually.

  The engagement ring was still on Tillie’s finger so she figured she might as well make the most of it. She suspected she would have to go on a crash diet for a month to get it off. No amount of hand cream or soap or butter would make it budge. She had to put on sterile gloves when she worked with pastry or cookie dough because she didn’t want to get it dirty. But once the month was up that ring would be cut off and her ties with Blake cut, too.

  But not before she had a bit of fun first.

  Tillie took out the first batch of peanut butter cookies and slid in the next tray of chocolate chip. Truffles pricked up her ears, gave a bark and bolted out of the kitchen and started to scratch at the front door to be let out. Tillie pulled off her plastic gloves, wiped her hands on her apron and went to open the door to see Blake’s black sports car coming to a stop in front of the fountain on the circular driveway in front of the house. He unfolded himself from behind the wheel with the sort of athletic grace she could only envy. When she exited a car, she looked like a baby elephant trying to squeeze through a cat flap.

  Blake was carrying a bunch of pearly pink roses, not quite white but not fully pink, either. He handed them to her with a crooked smile. ‘Thought you might like these.’

  Tillie buried her face in the fragrant blooms, suddenly embarrassed at the thought of him moving in with her. Had she done the wrong thing agreeing to it? What if it got...awkward? She had never lived with anyone other than her father and stepmother. What if Blake didn’t take up her offer of a fling? The house might be big, but it wouldn’t be big enough for her to avoid him then. ‘They’re gorgeous. I love the colour.’

  ‘That pink reminds me of your cheeks when I make you blush.’

  She could feel her cheeks doing exactly that. No one could make her blush more than him. He only had to look at her with those twinkling grey-blue eyes and her face would be aflame. Had he thought about the kisses they’d shared? Had he relived every second of them or had he occupied himself with someone else?

  The thought was jarring. Like finding a fly in the cookie dough. There was nothing to stop him carrying on with his freewheeling playboy lifestyle. Their ‘engagement’ was a charade. No one had made any promises.

  But if he was going to sleep with someone, why couldn’t it be her?

  The more Tillie thought about it, the more sensible and convenient it seemed. It would be a chance for her to finally get her V plates off. She could indulge in a hot, no-strings fling with him as a way to celebrate rather than bemoan her single status. That was what singletons did, wasn’t it? Had heaps of fun sex without the pressure of a relationship with expectations and responsibilities.

  ‘So, how was your trip up north?’ Tillie asked.

  ‘Boring, actually.’

  ‘So, they don’t have burlesque dancers in Scotland?’ The smile she gave him would have made a fox envious.

  Blake sent her a mock glower but she could see his eyes were smiling. ‘That was a stitch up by a mate of mine—a drunk mate of mine. He thought it’d be funny to have some scantily clad dancers hang out in my room while we were at an investment conference in Vegas. The press made a big thing of it, of course.’

  His explanation pleased her in a way she couldn’t quite explain. Or maybe it was because she was secretly glad he wasn’t the sort of man to have sordid parties with Vegas showgirls.

  ‘Would you like some dinner?’ Tillie asked after a slight pause. ‘I’ve got enough for two. Actually, I always have enough for two. I’m still learning how to cook for one person.’

  ‘Sure, if it’s no trouble? We could go out if you’d prefer.’

  Tillie flashed her best wry smile. ‘Cooking is my thing. It’s the one thing I’m good at.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re good at lots of things.’ Blake’s gaze went to her mouth for a nanosecond. ‘Not just good—excellent.’

  ‘I’m...erm...just going to put these in some water,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you make yourself at home? Sorry, that must sound weird, someone telling you to make yourself at home in what used to be your home. I’ve given you one of the larger spare rooms. I haven’t moved Mr Pendleton’s things out of the master suite because, well, it didn’t seem the right thing to do just yet.’

  ‘That’s fine, I wasn’t expecting to move in there yet.’ He sniffed the air. ‘The house looks and smells the same, too. What are you making?’

  ‘Cookies. I do a lot of my baking for the shop here as it keeps the workspace clear for my decorating.’

  Tillie was expecting him to go get his bags from the car and head upstairs to settle in, but instead he followed her into the kitchen. He pulled out and sat on one of the chairs at the large scrubbed pine table in the centre of the room, crossing one ankle over his knee, his gaze moving about the room as if recalling the times when he’d sat there as a child. She wondered if coming back here was difficult for him, stirring memories of his childhood and the loss he’d suffered.

  Tillie sorted out the flowers but became conscious of his gaze resting on her. She glanced up from the roses and gave him a lopsided smile. ‘You can have one if you like. You’re not allergic to peanuts, are you?’

  ‘No.’ He took one of the peanut butter cookies off the cooling rack and bit into it and chewed, making mmm, it’s good noises as he did so.

  The oven timer sounded and she snatched up her oven mitts and bent down to take out the next tray.

  ‘My mother used to bake,’ Blake said into the silence. ‘She used to let me help her.’

  Tillie put the cookies on the cooling rack and looked at him. ‘You must have been devastated when she died.’

  He didn’t speak for a moment, but stared at the half-eaten cookie he was holding as if wondering how it got there.

  ‘It hit my father hard,’ he finally said. ‘His work suffered. Lost heaps of money in bad business decisions. Got exploited by people who should have been helping him, not ripping him off.’

  Tillie couldn’t believe how tragic it all was. She could picture Blake as a small bewildered boy, shattered by the grief of losing his mother, struggling to support his grieving father, only to lose his family home. No wonder he was so determined to get it back. He couldn’t bring his mother back but this was one thing he could do. ‘Did your father ever remarry or—?’

  The rueful twist was back on his mouth. ‘He hasn’t even been on a date.’

  The strength of Blake’s father’s love for his mother made what she’d felt for Simon look like a schoolgirl crush.

  Maybe that was what it had been...

  ‘He must have loved her so very much.’

  Blake’s eyes moved away from hers, a frown settling between his brows. ‘I wouldn’t have thought it was possible to love someone that much if I hadn’t witnessed it first-hand. He literally couldn’t function without her. He barely functions now, especially after his recent heart surgery. He wouldn’t have needed it if he’d been taking better care of himself over the years. But I’m hoping getting this place back for him will be a step in the right direction.’

  ‘You’re doing it for him?’ Tillie asked.

  His gaze came back to hers, a cynical smile tilting the edges of his mout
h. ‘What? Did you think I wanted to set up a playboy mansion for myself?’

  She bit her bottom lip. That was exactly what she’d thought. ‘It was an easy assumption to make, especially the way you went about it. Demanding I pretend to be your fiancée as if I would jump at the chance.’

  He gave a soft grunt that might have been his version of an apology. ‘I see you’re still wearing my ring.’

  ‘That’s because the only way to get it off would be cut it or my finger off.’

  There was another moment or two of silence.

  Tillie started sweeping away invisible crumbs. ‘I’ve been thinking about this arrangement we have between us...’ she began.

  Blake’s gaze was steady and watchful. ‘And?’

  She licked the sudden dryness off her lips. ‘Well, I might be mistaken about this but I got the feeling when you kissed me the other—’

  ‘Don’t do this—’

  ‘Thing is... I haven’t had a relationship... I mean a physical relationship...so—’

  ‘No.’ The word was flatly delivered, sounding like a punctuation mark driven in by the very determined nib of a pen.

  Why did he keep saying no?

  Tillie took a moment to pick up her splintered ego. ‘Why is that? Because you don’t fancy me or—?’

  He rose from the chair with a jerky movement. ‘I’m not going to sleep with you, Tillie. It wouldn’t be...right.’

  ‘Oh, so you’ve suddenly developed a conscience, have you?’ Tillie said. ‘Pity you didn’t have one with you when you blackmailed me into being your fiancée.’

  His jaw grew tense as if he was biting down on his molars. ‘My pretend fiancée. I’m not intending it to become official. One month, that’s all. One month.’

  ‘Did I say I wanted you to make it official?’

  His frown flickered as if not sure whether to deepen or relax. ‘What exactly do you want?’

  Did he have to make her spell it out? ‘I just thought since we...erm...got on okay you might be able to help me with my...erm...little problem.’

  His eyes were the darkest she had ever seen them, a smoky grey as deep and mysterious as the lake outside. ‘What little problem?’

  Tillie interlaced her hands in front of her body, reminding herself of when she was a tongue-tied schoolgirl standing in front of a stern headmaster over a uniform code violation. ‘As you said the other day, it’s unusual for a woman of my age to still be a virgin, so... I wondered...if you would consider helping me to not be a virgin any more.’

  There was an echoing silence.

  Blake’s frown dug a deep trench between his eyes. ‘You’re not serious...are you?’ The incredulous tone of his voice made it sound as if she were asking him to make a human sacrifice of her and then grind her blood and bones and feed them to the jackdaws.

  ‘Of course I’m serious,’ Tillie said. ‘I’m sick of being a virgin. I only agreed to remain celibate for Simon’s sake and then he went off and had sex with someone else behind my back. That’s what made me the angriest. Do you know how that made me feel? Worthless, that’s how. Hideously undesirable and worthless.’

  Blake drew in a breath and then released it in a ragged stream. ‘Look, here’s the thing. I admit I was thinking about sleeping with you, seriously thinking about it, but when I found out you hadn’t been with a guy before it changed everything. I’m not the white-picket-fence man you’re after. It would be wrong to sleep with you knowing I couldn’t offer you the whole package.’

  ‘But I don’t want the whole package,’ Tillie said. ‘Been there, done that, got the wedding dress and cake to prove it.’

  His frown resembled isobar patterns on a map. ‘What are you saying? You don’t want to get married one day and have a family?’

  Tillie wasn’t so sure about the family part. She hadn’t quite ruled out a rosy-cheeked kid or two. With IVF technology women didn’t need a husband to become a mother. But marriage she had ruled out with a thick red pen. ‘I’m open about having a child but not about having a husband. I can safely say no man will ever get me to put on a white dress and veil and turn up at church ever again.’

  ‘People don’t always get married in a church—’

  ‘It’s not the venue that’s the problem,’ Tillie said. ‘It’s the institution of marriage I’m shying away from. I want to have the life I missed out on while I was saving myself for Simon. I want to make up for all the opportunities I lost.’

  Blake rubbed a hand down over his face until it distorted his features. ‘This is crazy.’

  Tillie wasn’t sure what to make of his response. She’d thought—hoped—he’d jump at the chance to sleep with her. Now she wondered if it wasn’t so much about her being a virgin but more about her being unattractive. All her self-doubt and insecurities came back like ants to a pile of spilled sugar. She wasn’t model thin like the women he dated. She wasn’t fashion conscious. She didn’t wear enough make-up. She didn’t show enough cleavage. The list went on and on.

  ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘I get the message loud and clear. It was dumb of me to think someone like you might be remotely interested in someone like me.’

  Blake came over to where she was standing and took her by the upper arms, his frowning gaze holding hers. ‘You should think about this for a day or two before you rush into something you might regret.’

  It was Tillie’s turn to frown. ‘Why would I regret doing what every other girl my age does without blinking an eye?’

  His hands slipped away from her arms and he stepped back out of her personal space. ‘I just think you need to put the brakes on, that’s all.’

  Tillie pressed her mouth flat, her arms folded in front of her. ‘I’m starting to regret my invitation for you to come and stay here.’

  ‘Is that why you issued it?’ His tone had a sharp edge to it that scraped her already raw nerves. ‘So I could help you with your “little problem”, as you call it?’

  ‘No. I do think you’re right—people will wonder why if we’re not under the same roof, especially since everyone knows you’re not a saint. They expect us to be sleeping together. It wouldn’t be normal for you not to.’

  He pushed back his hair with a distracted hand. ‘Just give it a day or two, okay? Think of it as a cooling-off period. The best business decisions are made that way.’

  ‘Is that how you see this? As a business decision?’

  A shutter came down at the back of his gaze like a vault being sealed off. ‘My goal is and always has been to get this place back into my hands. You became a part of that plan when I struck that deal with you over the money you owed. But if you would prefer me to call our pretend engagement off then that’s what I’ll do. You won’t owe me a penny. It’s your choice.’

  Was he testing her?

  But even if he wasn’t how could she walk away and see him lose the house he loved so much for a second time? He hadn’t told her anything much about his mother, but the little he’d told her about his father made her realise how deeply he loved his dad and that he saw the return of the estate as essential to his well-being. She might have been able to walk away before, but not now. Not now she realised how important McClelland Park was to him and his hopes for his father’s recovery.

  ‘No. I want you to get your house back,’ Tillie said. ‘It’s the right thing to do even if the way we’re going about it is a little unconventional.’

  If he gave a sigh of relief he hid it well for barely anything showed on his expression. ‘Thank you.’

  * * *

  Blake brought his things in from the car while Tillie got working on dinner. A part of him insisted he repack the car and head out of that driveway before any more damage was done. But right then, her offer of a no-strings fling was far more tempting than the strength of his convictions. Would it be wrong to have a physical relationship with her?

  He had never made love to a virgin before, but he knew enough about the female form to know the wrong handling or rushing her befor
e she was ready could be not only painful but emotionally scarring as well. He hadn’t thought he was one of those men who held female sexuality to different standards from men. He wasn’t so draconian to think a woman was less of a person for having been sexually active. Sexual desire was a normal human process and why shouldn’t women experience it in the same way men did without feeling guilty?

  But the fact Tillie was a virgin did make him feel...special was not the right word. Privileged, honoured that she had decided to ask him to be her first partner. It wasn’t because she held any true affection for him; he wouldn’t agree to do it if she did. Feelings got in the way when it came to having casual sex. He was a master at blocking his. Now and again he would get the odd vague stirring over a particular partner, but he always moved on before it had time to take hold.

  Tillie’s attraction to him was purely physical—the best sort of attraction when it came to negotiating a no-strings fling. It wasn’t as if his relationship with her was going to last longer than those he’d had with other women. A month was the longest he’d been involved with someone, although he had never cohabited with a partner before.

  Would it be stepping over a boundary too far? Sharing a house this size shouldn’t be an issue, but this wasn’t just any house. This was a treasure trove of deeply emotional memories for him, a place where he had experienced love and happiness and a deep sense of belonging unlike anything in his life since.

  Once Blake had put his things in the room Tillie had prepared, he walked a few metres further down the wide hall and opened the door of the bedroom he had occupied as a child. The bed, the furniture and curtains and paintwork were all different, leaving no trace of the boy who had spent the first ten years of his life there.