The Emma Harte 7-Book Collection: A Woman of Substance, Hold the Dream, To Be the Best, Emma’s Secret, Unexpected Blessings, Just Rewards, Breaking the Rules. Barbara Taylor BradfordЧитать онлайн книгу.
I’m in love with you!’
He came around the desk and pulled her into his arms, his grip powerful and crushing, his mouth hard and unrelenting on hers. Emma could not resist. Her arms went around him and she returned his kisses, the excitement he aroused in her manifest again, racing through her like fire. Her head swam and she was assailed by a weakness that trickled into her thighs. He pulled away suddenly, as he had done so often in the past, and gazed down at her. He tilted her face to his. His eyes, so darkly violet they looked as black as the brows curving above them, were filled with seriousness.
Paul shook his head. ‘Did you think a few hundred miles would discourage me?’ He laughed. ‘I’m an Australian. Distance means nothing to me. And you haven’t learned much else about me, Emma, have you? Or you would know I’m very tenacious.’ He put his arm around her, hugging her to him, and laughed again. ‘What am I going to do with you, my Emma? My stubborn, wilful, but adorable Emma. Tame you? But I wonder, would a bridle sit well on you, my sweet?’
Emma clung to his trench coat. She was speechless and her mind was chaotic. What had he said? That he was in love with her. Her heart was tight and her legs shook and she dare not open her mouth. If she did she knew she would tell him that she loved him, too.
Paul seemed unconcerned by her silence. He said, ‘First of all, we are going to have lunch. Then you are going to show me around your store. After that I want to see Layton’s mill.’ He grinned that engaging lopsided grin, and said, ‘Later I want to meet your children and I hope you will invite me to stay to dinner. You wouldn’t abandon a lonely soldier to an evening by himself in this godforsaken city, would you?’
Emma shook her head.
‘We’re in agreement, then?’
‘Yes, Paul,’ she whispered, and her voice was surprisingly meek.
Paul McGill stayed in Yorkshire for three days and during that time Emma came to know a very different side of him. In London she had felt there was a deep core of sincerity in him, and although he had often given the impression he lacked the inner conviction to remain serious for very long, she had suspected otherwise. She was not wrong. That thoughtful side was now revealed to her. He was also a gentle man, a characteristic that was displayed most obviously with her children. He listened attentively to Edwina, responding with kindness to her questions about Australia, and he treated Kit like an equal. Kit hung on his every word, and was thrilled when Paul took him sledging down the drive and played with his trains in the nursery.
It seemed to Emma that Paul brought out the very best in her children, and even Edwina, always so distant, emerged from her shell under his vivacious influence. Emma watched Paul closely, revelling in his genuine interest in her family, but she frequently noticed a curiously yearning look flickering in those violet eyes when he believed he was unobserved. She speculated on the reason for it and wondered about this extraordinary man who was so contradictory and compelling.
The day he departed he said, ‘I don’t have very much time left, Emma. I’ll be going back to France shortly. Will you come and visit me in London? Very soon?’
Emma did not think twice. ‘Yes,’ she said, smiling up at him.
He touched her cheek lightly. ‘When?’
‘I have a meeting tomorrow morning. But I could come the day after. On Friday.’
‘Couldn’t you make it tomorrow afternoon? Time is running out.’
‘All right, then.’
He tilted her face to his. ‘Are you sure about this, Emma?’
‘Yes, I am.’ As she spoke she knew that she had made a commitment to him.
It was a bitterly cold February evening and drizzling when Emma stepped off the train at King’s Cross. She saw him before he saw her. He was standing at the ticket barrier, the cap pushed back at the same jaunty angle, the collar of his trench coat turned up. Her heart leapt and she began to run. It was undignified but she could not help herself. She did not stop until she was in his arms, breathless and laughing, her face resplendent with happiness.
He held her close, told her she looked beautiful, found the porter with her luggage, and bustled her into his father’s car, taking command in his usual way. As they drove through the evening traffic Emma became aware of a difference in Paul, and although he held her hand and chatted to her casually, his voice light, she sensed a disquiet under the surface. It was a controlled tension but, nonetheless, quite evident to her.
The Daimler came to a standstill before they reached the Ritz Hotel, where Emma was staying. Paul said, ‘I’m going to get out here and walk the rest of the way.’
She stared at him. ‘But why?’
He grinned. ‘I know how circumspect you are. I would hate to compromise you the moment you arrive. Check in alone and I’ll join you for a drink in an hour. Anyway, you need a little privacy. Time to change and bathe.’
‘Very well. In an hour, then.’
He nodded, jumped out, and slammed the door. Emma sat back against the seat, touched by his thoughtfulness. And then she suffered such a sharp sense of loss, and acute loneliness, she was jolted. How silly she was being. She would see him very shortly.
The sitting room of the suite overlooked Green Park. A fire blazed in the grate, the lamps had been turned on, and there were masses of flowers everywhere, all of them from Paul, Emma discovered on reading the amusing messages on the white cards, reposing in each arrangement. She smiled with delight but did not pause long to admire. She hurriedly unpacked, hung up her clothes, and took a bath in the huge marble tub.
The bath dispelled the chill in her bones and revitalized her, and Emma slipped into a white silk robe and sat down at the dressing table, humming under her breath, feeling happier than she had in years. She brushed out her long hair until it gleamed in the lamplight and slowly began to coil it on top of her head. She was pushing the last hairpin into the coil when she tensed and remained perfectly still, experiencing the strange sensation that she was not alone. She swung her head slowly and jumped back in the chair. Paul was leaning casually against the door of the bedroom, his legs crossed, a glass in his hand, observing her with great concentration.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I should have knocked,’ he said. ‘You make a very pretty picture, my sweet.’
‘How did you get in?’ Emma gasped.
‘Why, through the door of course.’ He strolled over to the dressing table and placed a small jewel case in front of her. ‘These are for you,’ he said. ‘Put them on.’
Emma threw him a quick, puzzled glance and opened the case. The emerald earrings shimmered like pools of green fire against the black velvet and she drew in her breath. ‘Oh, Paul! They’re beautiful.’ She frowned. ‘But I can’t possibly accept them. They are far too valuable.’
‘Put them on,’ he ordered.
Emma’s hands trembled as she screwed the emeralds into her ears. She gazed at Paul through the mirror. ‘They are incredible. How did you know emeralds are my favourite stone?’
He smiled. ‘I didn’t. But with eyes your colour you should only wear emeralds. See how they echo the light in your eyes.’ He put down his drink and cupped his hands underneath her chin and, tilting her head back, he bent forward and kissed her forehead. ‘If you don’t accept them I’ll be terribly offended. I might never speak to you again.’
‘In that case I suppose I must. But it was very extravagant of you.’ She smiled at him tenderly. ‘Thank you, Paul.’
He moved away from her. ‘Come into the other room and have a drink,’ he said, pausing at the door.
‘I’ll just put my dress on.’
‘No, don’t bother. I want to talk to you. You’re decent enough.’
Emma pulled the white silk robe around her and followed him, feeling