The Unconventional Bride. Lindsay Armstrong

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The Unconventional Bride - Lindsay Armstrong Mills & Boon Modern

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Whatever it takes to save Raspberry Hill I will do.’

      ‘Such as?’

      The question came with businesslike precision.

      ‘I may have to subdivide it. That’s one thing I’ve been thinking of,’ she said slowly.

      ‘It’s a possibility,’ he agreed. ‘But then you face the prospect of a smaller holding being unviable.’

      Mel swallowed hard. ‘Maybe a guest farm? I think there’s a market for real country experience holidays.’

      Something in his dark gaze softened but he didn’t respond.

      ‘What’s so silly about that?’ she asked tartly.

      ‘It’s not that it’s silly but you’d need capital to start it off.’

      ‘A lot of misguided capital has been spent on this house,’ she said.

      ‘I take your point,’ he replied evenly, ‘but it may not be that easy to realise. There’s also the problem of who is going to stand in loco parentis of three young boys.’

      Mel was crumbling what was left of her roll into tiny pieces as she struggled with perhaps the greatest of her problems, when a ball of white and tan fur erupted onto the veranda and Batman leapt onto her lap. He licked her face profusely, knocked her side-plate off the table then leapt down to do an ecstatic jig along the floorboards.

      Mrs Bedwell arrived hot on his heels and scooped him up in her arms. ‘You little wretch! As if I haven’t got enough to do without babysitting you—why on earth didn’t that plate break?’

      Etienne got up. ‘Here, I’ll take him. Whoa!’ he said as the dog was put in his arms. ‘No licking, mate!’ He sat down with him and Batman subsided with an ecstatic expression as he was scratched behind his ears.

      ‘You like dogs?’ Mel asked, still blinking at the whirlwind events that had just overtaken her.

      ‘Sure. I even had one of these as a kid. He was also as mad as a hatter but very loyal.’

      She frowned. ‘I can’t picture that.’

      ‘Me or the dog?’

      ‘Uh—you.’

      ‘You assumed I came into the world all grown up?’

      ‘Truth to tell, since you had a French mother and both have—had—French names,’ she amended, ‘I’ve always associated you with an exotic background rather than a kid with a dog. I know Margot was born in Vanuatu.’

      ‘She was but I was born right here in Gladstone, and other than for the name,’ he looked humorous for a moment, ‘I escaped a lot of the exotic influence our French mother exerted on Margot. Our father was a fair-dinkum Aussie.’

      ‘You certainly sound like one. While she was certainly the essence of chic,’ Mel murmured and frowned again. ‘If you don’t mind me saying so, you didn’t seem to be very close. Although, of course, I could be quite wrong—but we didn’t see much of you at Raspberry Hill at all.’

      He stared into a space for a moment, then down at the contented dog in his arms. ‘No, we weren’t that close. She was ten years older, which is quite a gap, but I guess the other reason is that my business has really expanded in the last five or six years so I’ve had my nose to the grindstone a lot.’

      ‘Hurst Engineering & Shipping,’ Mel said. ‘I don’t know about having your nose to the grindstone—I once heard Margot put it as “empire building”.’

      He shrugged and looked amused.

      ‘Not only Margot. Even Justin is impressed,’ she added.

      ‘As a matter of fact, he came to see me about getting a part-time job last week.’

      Mel’s eyes widened. ‘He didn’t tell me that!’

      ‘He—er—never shared your dislike, mistrust or whatever it was of me.’

      Mel coloured but it was true. Despite their initial opposition to sharing their father with a stepmother, none of the boys, for that matter, had continued their resentment of Margot nor applied it to Etienne. None of them had realised how the property was going downhill either, she reminded herself drily.

      ‘Did you give him a job?’

      ‘I told him I would have one for him in the next school holidays, with your approval.’

      ‘That’s very good of you,’ Mel said.

      ‘Getting back to the boys,’ Etienne said, I—’

      Mel scraped back her chair and stood up. ‘Etienne, I appreciate your concern but it’s really not your problem.’

      Batman pricked up his ears.

      Etienne looked down at him then up at Mel. Her expression was one of pride and dignity and it came to him that she could be exasperating at times. It also came to him that in some respects she’d led a very sheltered life, cocooned amongst her family and on Raspberry Hill, and might be less worldly than a lot of girls of her age.

      Yet, contrary to what he’d expected, the attraction he’d experienced the day of the funeral was still there. Even looking so proud and unreasonably stubborn, she stirred him. The line of her throat fascinated him. The way she squared her shoulders, always a preliminary to saying something designed to tell him he wasn’t liked or trusted even if not in so many words, drew his attention to the curves of her breasts, the narrowness of her waist and the flare of her hips.

      Was she at all aware of the effect she had on him, though? he wondered. What would her reaction be if he revealed his preoccupation with her figure?

      ‘OK,’ he said, ostensibly to the dog. ‘I rest my case—for the time being. But if you need me, just let me know.’

      ‘I will,’ Mel agreed.

      ‘And now I really must go,’ he said politely but with a glint in his eye that indicated to her he knew she was barely able to wait to get rid of him. ‘Thank you for your hospitality,’ he added, by way, she was quite sure, of adding salt to the wound.

      ‘I’ll pass your thanks on to Mrs Bedwell. It was all her doing,’ she replied with excessive politeness of her own.

      He put Batman down and got up. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t, Mel,’ he said softly.

      Although she was five feet eight, he was a head taller, which put her at a disadvantage she rarely suffered. It didn’t stop her from saying haughtily, however, ‘Such as?’ as if it was inconceivable she should do anything she might regret.

      But as he took his time about answering she realised her heart was beating a little erratically and that strange mixture of excitement and wariness was coursing through her veins again. Why? she wondered. How could he, just by looking at her in a certain way, produce this result in her?

      He wasn’t even looking at her in that certain way right now, not as if he had her

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