Susanne James – The Millionaire's Chosen Bride (страница 3)

Well, well, Melody thought cynically. This man, who’d just told her off for helping to ‘kill off’ the village, thought nothing of taking his family firm out of the country, obviously throwing employees out of work! Talk about double standards! She couldn’t let that pass!

‘So you were obviously not “number one in the popularity stakes”?’ she said, echoing his own words to her. ‘With your ex-staff, I mean. What a miserable bombshell that must have been for them.’

Adam frowned. ‘Wedidn’t take the decision lightly,’ he said slowly, throwing her a glance which held a hint of disdain at her comments. ‘We were able to give them all handsome redundancy payments, and my father—who is very well known in the industry—used his influence to find places for many of the men with our competitors.’ He paused. ‘He is a very thoughtful man…it caused him a great deal of worry at the time.’

‘Mmm,’ Melody murmured enigmatically, not wanting to let him off the hook too lightly, yet knowing full well the difficult position companies like his often found themselves in. Her doctorate in Business Studies and Law, together with her masterly understanding of today’s commercial world, made it difficult for her not to sympathise.

‘So,’ she said, as she finished her glass of water, ‘if you had managed to secure Gatehouse Cottage this morning, what would your plans have been for taking possession?’

‘Oh, I didn’t have any,’ he replied. ‘I wasn’t bidding for myself. I was there on behalf of friends of mine who have a very special reason for wanting to own it. Friends who’ve lived in the village all their lives and who have no intention of ever moving away,’ he added significantly.

Why was she being made to feel so guilty? Melody asked herself. This morning’s business transaction was legal and above board, with the best man winning! It was her good luck—and her considerable financial resources—that had made her the one to buy the cottage, yet the impression she was getting was that she had no right to own the place, and that everyone would hate her for it! This was not the way it was meant to turn out, and being with Adam Whoever-He-Was was making her feel uneasy.

She made a move to go, picking up her bag from the side of the chair.

‘Thank you very much for my lunch,’ she said, glancing across at him. ‘I enjoyed the crab cakes enormously, and I shall come back for some more before I go home.’

He stood up then, tilting his chiselled lips in a half-smile. ‘Glad you liked them,’ he said. ‘Um…wouldn’t you like coffee before you go?’

‘No, thanks. Not for me,’ Melody said. ‘I must get back to my hotel—I’m moving out from the Red House today—do you know it? It’s very comfortable.’

‘Of course I know the Red House. Everyone knows the Red House,’ he said off-handedly. ‘It’s got a formidable reputation in the area. So why are you moving out?’

‘I thought I’d come closer to the village. To my new property,’ Melody said neatly, throwing him a glance. ‘I rang a B&B that I’d noticed—there are quite a few of them to choose from! Luckily they had a vacancy, so I’ll be staying there for a week or two.’

Adam settled the bill at the bar, and they went out into the warm afternoon sunshine. He stood by the side of her car as she opened the door to get in.

‘Can you find your way back to the Red House from here?’ he asked. ‘Or would you like me to lead the way?’

‘Oh, there’s no need for that—thanks anyway,’ Melody said quickly. ‘I don’t have any problems with route-finding, and I was making mental notes of the direction we were going in as we drove here.’ She smiled up at him through the open window. ‘And I’m used to reading road signs.’

He shrugged briefly—as if to say, Well, I was only offering—then watched her reverse expertly in the confined space of the car park and drive away with a brief wave of her hand as she went.

Adam got into his own car and waited for a moment before switching on the engine. He felt instinctively that this was a rather unusual woman who didn’t fit in to his personal categories for the female race. He was certainly attracted to her and, although her petite stature gave her an air of vulnerability, she gave every impression of being someone who was well able to look after herself. Not to mention the fact that she was clearly a very experienced driver who had no difficulty in finding her way around! Now, why should that disturb him in a woman? he asked himself. Most females were rubbish at map-reading, or at even knowing their norths from their souths! But not, apparently, this one!

He stared pensively out of the window for a second. Whether she was brilliant behind the wheel or not wasn’t particularly relevant anyway…all he knew was that she was certainly a very intriguing woman—at any rate, she’d intrigued him more than anyone had done for a very long time!

He swept out of the car park, smiling briefly to himself, painfully aware that his present, overpowering sensation was one of wanting to cover those dainty, seductive lips with his own! He snorted derisively. Fat chance of that ever happening! he thought.

As she made her way back to her hotel, Melody felt such a strange mix of emotions she could have screamed. She should have been thrilled and excited at her purchase that morning, and of course she was, yet she realised Adam did have a point about the time she’d be spending at the cottage—actually living there, and buying her bread from the little bakery, fetching her newspaper from the shop. She knew only too well that people like her were a serious irritation who did little to help the local economy.

After she’d driven for a mile or two she pulled in to the side of the road and took the local map which the hotel had given her from her handbag. Although she’d told Adam that she’d have no difficulty finding her way back to the Red House, the fact was she didn’t have a clue where she was. But she hadn’t wanted to extend her association with the man by accepting his offer that he should shepherd her back. Although he was, without doubt, the dishiest male she’d met in her whole life, she felt that this was not the time to prolong an unlooked-for acquaintance. At this staggeringly unexpected point in her life it would be better to be alone, to think clearly for herself.

The route they’d taken from the village to the pub was unknown to her. All these country roads looked exactly the same as one another, and her hotel was an isolated building that didn’t seem to belong anywhere special. Melody sighed as she traced the minute, incomprehensible wiggles on the map with her finger. If the worst came to the worst she could always go right back to the village and set off again from there, she thought. But surely there must be a more direct route from where she now was to the Red House?

Feeling that she’d better go back to the pub, she turned the car around and began to drive cautiously along the empty road. Suddenly, rounding a corner, she spotted a woman cyclist ahead of her. Good, she thought. A local who would obviously know where the hotel was.

Pulling up slowly alongside, she opened the passenger window and called out.

‘Hello—sorry to bother you, but I’m trying to find my way back to the Red House Hotel. Can you direct me? I’m hopelessly lost!’

The woman—dark-haired and attractive, probably in her mid-thirties, Melody assessed—had an open, friendly expression, and immediately got off her bike—an ancient vehicle with a basket on the front in which were several boxes of eggs. She looked in at Melody.

‘I’m afraid you’re a bit off-course,’ she said, frowning slightly and shielding her eyes from the sun for a second. ‘Look, your best bet is to go to the crossroads a mile up the road in front of us, take the left turn, then go on until you come to the smallholding on the right. You can’t miss it. There are always two white horses in the field in front. Turn down that road, go on for another mile or so, then the road sort of doubles back on itself before you must take the next right turn. The Red House is there, more or less in front of you. Or should be if I’ve got it right!’ the woman said, laughing.

Melody repeated the instructions slowly, hoping she’d find the place before nightfall. The woman’s last remark didn’t sound particularly convincing! Especially with the added, ‘Good Luck!’ that she heard as she drove away.

Anyway, she thought, her present confusion would do nothing to spoil the excitement of the day. Soon, soon—when the necessary formalities had been completed—she would be given the keys to her cottage and would be able to revel in really looking around. She would go upstairs and open the door to the little bedroom at the back. The room in which she’d been born.

CHAPTER TWO

MUCH later in the afternoon, Melody drove up the winding drive that led to the B&B called Poplars, a large Victorian building, and followed the sign to the visitors’ car park.

She got out of the car and went towards the large front entrance door. As she entered, a stocky, bearded man came through to greet her, two chocolate Labrador dogs padding behind him. He grinned cheerfully.