A Bride for the Maverick Millionaire. Marion LennoxЧитать онлайн книгу.
Maud met his gaze with a look that said she knew very well she had no business asking, but what use was old age if she couldn’t take a few liberties?
He could have snubbed her—but he’d kind of liked those old aunts.
‘No,’ he conceded.
‘Are you gay?’
Rachel choked but he managed to keep a straight face.
‘No again.’
‘This isn’t one of those “This-is-my-honeymoon-I’ve-been-dumped-but-I’m-coming-anyway” set-ups, is it?’ she demanded and Rachel gasped.
‘Maud! That’s enough!’
‘I’m just asking,’ Maud said, innocent as butter. ‘He’s gorgeous. There has to be a reason why he’s on his own.’
He sighed. He didn’t want to tell her to mind her own business, but this was one fiery, intelligent lady and if he didn’t tell her something she’d go on probing. Maybe she’d even guess the truth.
‘You don’t need to tell us anything,’ Rachel said firmly. ‘Maud, leave the man alone.’
‘It’s no secret,’ he said, and managed a rueful grin. ‘I might not be married but I’m not exactly a loner. I have three blissful weeks without two kids, and I’m making the most of them.’ He glanced at Rachel and he saw the vulnerability in her eyes—and then he glanced at Maud and thought uh oh, maybe admitting to having kids was just going to lead to more questions.
So close the door on them, here and now.
‘What I’m about to tell you is a bit like telling you I’m an alcoholic,’ he said, softly but deadly serious, ‘then saying please don’t give me a drink. What I’m saying is that Connie and Richard are both the result of shipboard affairs. I like travelling but I don’t always like the consequences. Rachel says you like to matchmake, Dame Maud. Well, if I were you, I’d keep your Rachel far away from me. Grant me my peace, Dame Maud, and leave me alone with my books.’
CHAPTER TWO
WHY had he said that?
He watched both their faces change. He watched Dame Maud fight for the courage to ask more questions. He met her gaze levelly, coolly and he saw her decide that she wouldn’t.
She was a brazen old lady but she was also lovely. She knew when boundaries couldn’t be crossed.
‘Granted,’ she said at last, finally moving on. ‘Very well. Thank you for the warning. Mr Kinnard. Thank you also for rescuing me this morning.’
‘We’re very grateful,’ Rachel said, and she smiled. ‘But wow, you didn’t need to warn us off so dramatically. The matchmaking thing was dumb. Maud’s flushed with the success of her grandson’s engagement to my sister, but enough’s enough. I’m not about to fall into your arms—or anyone else’s for that matter. How embarrassing. Maud, you’re the limit. Now if you’ll excuse us… We’ll see you at lunch, Mr Kinnard, but I give you my word, we’ll leave you alone.’
So that was that. Excellent.
Or was it?
He headed for the shower and soaked for a long time, thinking about the morning, thinking about why he’d said what he’d said.
He’d just met a woman he thought was adorable. Rachel Cotton seemed a woman he’d really like to get to know.
But… was this the way his father had thought at the beginning of each and every one of his shipboard romances? He wouldn’t mind betting it was.
Finn’s grandfather had built a line of cruise ships that were world-renowned for their luxury and the fantastic places they went. The old man had been passionate about his ships and the experiences he gave his passengers.
Finn’s father, however, had inherited little of his father’s acumen but all of his love of luxury. He’d travelled the world, playing the wealthy ship owner, turning the heads of women he sailed with. They became his passion.
He’d selected innocents. He had a type. Little, cute, vulnerable women, sailing alone.
Finn was the first of his three known children, born to three different mothers and then totally rejected by their playboy father. Finn’s mother had returned from her once-in-a-lifetime cruise, nineteen years old, pregnant and sure her life was ruined. She’d died five years later, leaving Finn to be raised by his grandparents. As he’d grown old enough to enquire, he’d found he had a half-sister and a half brother who hadn’t even had the support he’d had.
Finn’s father had left the remnants of the shipping line to Finn on the condition he change his name. Finn’s first instinct had been to refuse. He hadn’t needed his father for thirty years; why take his money now?
But then he found out more about his younger half-siblings. They were still just kids, and both were desperately unhappy. Richard was packing shelves in a supermarket, but aching to study. Connie was working on an assembly line in a textile factory, and already starting to suffer from arthritis in her hands.
When his father had died, Finn had been working as a boat-builder. Maybe that was why his father had chosen him. His sources must have told him of Finn’s passion for boats—or maybe it was the fact that Finn’s grandparents had never thought of asking for his father’s assistance. It seemed the other women who’d borne him children had tried to get support and failed. But…
‘He gave us you, so we can’t hate him,’ his grandfather had told him. ‘But I’m darned if we’ll take anything else from him.’
Finn didn’t need his father, or his inheritance. The cruise line was in financial crisis. Split and sold off, it’d produce little.
But Connie and Richard haunted him. They had minimal education and no way forward without help.
A boat-builder couldn’t help them.
So he’d taken a risk. He’d accepted his father’s name, sold off the bigger ships and put what was left into a small line of intimate cruisers. He tailored his cruises to make them ecologically wonderful, exciting, fun. He took a wage but the remaining profits went into a family trust. He and Connie and Richard thus all inherited.
And somehow he’d found a life he loved. He’d established a relationship with Connie and Richard. He’d even become attached to two kids who were still disbelieving of their new life.
But now… Something was wrong with the Kimberley Temptress and he was determined to find out what. It was a challenge he relished.
He did not need the complication of being attracted to Rachel Cotton.
So he’d lied to her?
Not exactly lied.
Lied, his conscience told him. He’d implied that Connie and Richard were his children.
His half-brother and sister now shared his father’s massive house with him. Somehow over the last few years they’d established a loose sibling bond. It was true he was enjoying three weeks without Connie’s questionable taste in music, but as for escaping from children… Connie was now twenty-five, and Richard was twenty-one.
They still seemed like kids to him. They’d come from damaged homes. There were still times when they were vulnerable; when he needed to look out for them.
But they weren’t children, they weren’t his and he’d implied to Rachel and to Maud that they were.
The deception had been necessary, he told himself as he showered. With the connection he felt between himself and Rachel—with this weird, uncalled for attraction, and with Maud obviously set on making the most of it—he’d done what he must to protect both Rachel and himself.
‘You could have done it without lying,’ he told himself.
‘I didn’t lie,’ he said out