The British Billionaire's Innocent Bride. Susanne JamesЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘Why don’t you let me buy you supper?’ Theo said. ‘Your first night in Rome shouldn’t be spent by yourself.’
‘Oh—I don’t really think… Wouldn’t you rather…? I mean, wouldn’t some of your colleagues be more interesting company than me?’ Lily began.
‘Certainly not,’ he said lightly. He grinned down at her. ‘Let me show you some of the places I’ve been to before, and you can choose which one you like the look of.’
His teeth were almost blindingly white as he smiled, and the face which on first impression had seemed serious and somewhat formidable to Lily now exhibited a heart-throbbingly purposeful image, indicating someone strong, reliable…and utterly captivating. The sort of man she might one day paint riding on a white charger to rescue damsels in distress.
Lily choked back her disbelief in her own thoughts. Rome was a mad place! It was making her mad!
Susanne James has enjoyed creative writing since childhood, completing her first—sadly unpublished—novel by the age of twelve. She has three grown-up children who were, and are, her pride and joy, and who all live happily in Oxfordshire with their families. She was always happy to put the needs of her family before her ambition to write seriously, although along the way some published articles for magazines and newspapers helped to keep the dream alive!
Susanne’s big regret is that her beloved husband is no longer here to share the pleasure of her recent success. She now shares her life with Toffee, her young Cavalier King Charles spaniel, who decides when it’s time to get up (early) and when a walk in the park is overdue!
Recent titles by the same author:
THE MILLIONAIRE’S CHOSEN BRIDE
THE BRITISH BILLIONAIRE AFFAIR
JED HUNTER’S RELUCTANT BRIDE
THE BRITISH BILLIONAIRE’S INNOCENT BRIDE
BY
SUSANNE JAMES
MILLS & BOON
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For all my friends and their lovely dogs who walk with Toffee and me each day in Alice Park
CHAPTER ONE
ON A fine July morning Lily got out of the taxi at Heathrow and, after paying the driver, trundled her overnight case towards the entrance.
Her emotions were a strange mix of regret and relief that her contract with Bella and Rosie’s family had ended. She’d only been nanny to the eight-year-old twins for a year, but it had been long enough for her to know that she’d made a mistake at trying her hand at this particular occupation. Child-minding was not for her—even though, towards the end, she’d begun to establish a much better relationship with the over-indulged children. Had begun to like them and feel sorry for them—their mother, a single parent, had very little time for them, which was hard on the children. But it was not what she wanted to do with her life. She was honest in admitting that her own background was probably responsible for her sense of inadequacy, and sometimes feeling out of her depth.
Fortunately she’d saved up enough money so that she could afford to be unemployed for a short time while she took stock of her situation. She would easily be able to afford the mortgage on her tiny one-bedroom flat in an unremarkable Berkshire town, and knew that with her cookery diploma she could walk into another job within the hour at any of the countless hotels and restaurants in London if she wanted to. But she was restless, feeling the need for a change but not knowing how to bring it about, so she’d decided to have a couple of days in Rome and visit her brother Sam, who part-owned a small hotel there.
She checked in and was delighted at being upgraded to business class as the flight was overbooked. In the queue waiting to board the aircraft, she glanced at her ticket. She’d booked a seat next to the window—not because she enjoyed watching take-off and landing, but because it seemed to offer a greater chance of not being disturbed on the journey by people who were intent on relaying their life story to anyone who would listen.
As they all waited to board, Lily noted that almost everyone—as usual—was casually dressed, mostly in jeans and holiday wear. For some reason she’d chosen her fine grey suit and a white shirt, together with sheer black tights and high heels, for the journey. Perhaps that was why she had been lucky enough to get bumped up to business class.
At last they all filed on board, and Lily edged her way along the aisle, glancing upwards until she located her seat number. The row was still unoccupied, so she didn’t have to ask anyone to get up, and she took her place, glancing idly out of the window at all the activity outside.
After a moment she was suddenly aware of the arrival of the person who would be sitting next to her and, turning her head quickly, found herself gazing up—very far up—into the dark eyes of the most handsome man she’d ever come across in her twenty-six years. He pushed his hand luggage into the overhead compartment and slammed it shut, then sat down and glanced across at her. ‘Morning,’ he said, non-committally.
Lily coloured up to the roots of her hair, and was conscious of her usual feeling of anxiousness. Her heart was gathering pace rapidly, and the feeling of being trapped was threatening to overwhelm her.
‘Oh—hi—’ she said, trying to match his lazy attitude and failing miserably. Why should it matter that she was going to be sitting this close to someone like him for a couple of hours? He didn’t look the sort who would want to make small talk all the way. His powerfully authoritative manner was obvious at once, and his strong profile and determined chin sent a shiver down her spine. He was formally dressed, in a dark well-cut suit, gleaming shirt and plain blue tie, his black hair was immaculately styled. Why couldn’t he have been a portly, elderly, kindly type, instead of this undeniably sexy individual who, Lily was aware, was attracting covetous glances from adjacent females?
He shifted his long legs slightly, trying to make himself more comfortable in the restricted space, then turned to glance at her, noting her stylish appearance, the rather sweet heart-shaped face, the wavy fair hair piled elegantly on top, giving her a brisk, businesslike air. Then he stared past her out of the window, feeling momentarily disturbed inside. And after a second or two, he knew why. It was the first time he had noticed a woman since Elspeth had died.
It had been over a year now—quite long enough for anyone to adjust. But immediately the mental picture of his wife made him think of his three children—his two sons and Freya—who, at nine years old, was so like Elspeth, with her glossy brown hair and hazel eyes. He frowned slightly as he thought of his daughter. She was the difficult one—the one he didn’t seem to have the same rapport with as he had with the boys, he realised. And because of that he’d reluctantly agreed to Freya’s request that she should be a weekly boarder at her school, to be with her best friends. He’d been determined to try and keep them all together,