Held in the crook of Richard’s arm, Tina watched the glittering water as it ran leaping and chuckling over its stony bed and knew what perfect happiness and contentment felt like.
After a while he broke the silence to say, ‘I’d like us to be married as soon as possible.’
When something in his tone, a kind of tension, made her glance up at him, he added almost roughly, ‘I sound impatient, I know, but I just can’t wait to make you mine.’
Her heart fluttered and swelled with gratitude that he should feel so strongly about her.
‘If you were hoping for a big wedding with dozens of guests and all the trimmings,’ he went on, ‘we can always have a second ceremony later.’
Nestling against him, she said simply, ‘I don’t need a big wedding and all the trimmings,’ and heard his quick sigh of relief.
‘That’s my girl.’ His arm tightened round her. ‘So shall we say tomorrow morning?’
Thinking he was joking, she laughed and said, ‘Why not? Except that it can’t be done so quickly.’
‘As we have our own priest and our own chapel, all we need to do is warn the Reverend Peter and arrange for two witnesses.’
Realising he wasn’t joking after all, she said breathlessly, ‘B-but surely we need a…a licence of some kind?’
‘I have a special licence lined up.’
Through lips gone suddenly stiff, she said, ‘Then you must have intended it for someone else.’
‘You are the only woman I’ve ever wanted to marry.’ His green-gold eyes on her face, he added, ‘I told you earlier that the first time I saw you I knew you were the one I’d been waiting for.’
She half shook her head. ‘I realise that being who you are, you must have quite a pull. But, even with your own chapel and your own family priest, I don’t believe you could have got a licence in the time. You hadn’t set eyes on me until Friday…’
‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ he told her quietly.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘I DON’T understand,’ Tina protested, puzzled.
Richard brushed a strand of silky blonde hair away from her cheek with his free hand and said, ‘It’s over three weeks since I first saw you.’
‘Three weeks?’
‘I was visiting Cartel Wines when I caught sight of you coming out of De Vere’s office. I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen and I knew I had to have you…’
She was still endeavouring to catch her breath when he went on, ‘Unfortunately, the following day I was forced to travel to the Far East on an extremely important business trip, so I couldn’t follow things through myself.
‘However, I had some checks made and, finding you were free, I discussed getting married with the Reverend Peter, who made all the necessary arrangements—’
Completely flabbergasted, she protested, ‘But you hadn’t even spoken to me. How could you be so sure I’d marry you?’
‘I couldn’t be sure, of course…’ With a trace of arrogance, he added, ‘But I usually get what I want.’
She could easily believe it. Especially when it came to women.
‘The trip dragged on until the middle of last week,’ he continued, ‘but for the first time in my life I found I couldn’t keep my mind on business matters. I kept thinking about you, planning how to meet you when I got back.’
‘And then we met by accident…’ But, even as she said the words, some sixth sense made her wonder—had running into her been an accident?
Oh, don’t be a fool, she chided herself. What man in his right mind would do such a thing deliberately when there were plenty of other ways he could have met her?
For instance, if he’d wanted to get to know her so badly, why hadn’t he spoken to her in the car park at midday, while she had been disposing of her ruined lunch? It would have been a perfect opportunity.
Or, failing that, surely the next time he visited Cartel Wines he could have made some excuse to—
No, she wouldn’t have been there.
Though he couldn’t have known that she was leaving.
Or could he?
Somewhere at the back of her mind, a memory, an impression, tried to struggle to the surface and she knew that if she could only recall what it was she would have the answer to her question.
She was still cudgelling her brains when Richard glanced at his watch and said briskly, ‘We ought to be starting for home. You must be famished and, as we’re being married tomorrow, we have a lot to do.’
Though she wanted to marry him more than anything in the world, a vague uneasiness still nagging at her, a feeling that something wasn’t quite right, she began, ‘I don’t understand why we have to rush into it like this…Couldn’t we wait until—?’
Just for an instant his beautiful mouth tightened. Then he said coaxingly, ‘You’ve agreed to marry me, we have a priest, a chapel and a marriage licence, so why wait?’
‘I’ve nothing to wear,’ she pointed out. ‘I need to go back to the flat and fetch some clothes—’
He bent his dark head and kissed her mouth, nipping delicately at her bottom lip, distracting her, as he whispered, ‘I’d rather have you without any clothes.’
Trying to collect herself and sound severe, she began, ‘That’s all very well, but I must have something to get married in—’
‘Failing anything else, you could always wear the dress you wore to dinner last night.’
‘But it got marked when we walked though the tunnel,’ she pleaded.
‘I’ll ask Hannah to see that all your things are laundered and we’ll make time to buy you a whole new wardrobe before we go on our honeymoon.’
Diverted, she asked, ‘Are we going on honeymoon?’
He looked surprised. ‘Of course. I thought we’d stick with the old tradition of spending our wedding night at Anders, in the nuptial bed…’
The nuptial bed… A little shiver of excitement ran down her spine.
‘Then go on to our chosen honeymoon destination the following day.’
It all sounded so solid, so conventional, that, her uneasiness taking flight, she teased, ‘I dare say you’ve already got it all arranged?’
He grinned appreciatively. ‘’Fraid not. I decided to find out where you wanted to go before I made any definite plans.’
‘How long will we be going for?’
‘A month. Longer if you wish…’
There was no harm in delaying the showdown; in fact it might be all to the good to allow a breathing space while they really got to know one other.
‘So, if you’d like to give it some thought and let me know,’ he added, ‘I’ll have Murray standing by.’
‘Murray?’
‘Captain Murray Tyler. I have a small private jet.’
That casual mention of owning his own plane made Tina realise afresh what a wealthy man she was marrying. But it wasn’t his money or his lifestyle that had attracted her. She would still have married him if he hadn’t had a penny.
‘We’d best be moving.’ He stood up and,