A Second Chance For The Millionaire: Rescued by the Brooding Tycoon / Who Wants To Marry a Millionaire? / The Billionaire's Fair Lady. Nicola Marsh

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A Second Chance For The Millionaire: Rescued by the Brooding Tycoon / Who Wants To Marry a Millionaire? / The Billionaire's Fair Lady - Nicola Marsh

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a heart, Mary,’ Darius growled.

      ‘All right, I’ll say no more. I don’t want to embarrass either of you.’

      But Darius was already uncomfortable, Harriet could tell. At the sight of his children his face lit up with relief and he opened his arms so that they could hug him.

      She knew that Frankie was ten years old and Mark nine. Both were lively, attractive children with nice manners.

      ‘Here she is, guys,’ Darius said. ‘This is the lifeboat lady that I told you about.’

      Both of them stared.

      ‘You work on a lifeboat?’ Mark asked, awed.

      ‘Not work. I’m on call if they need me.’

      ‘But how often do you have to go out saving people?’

      ‘It varies. Sometimes once a month, sometimes twice a day.’

      ‘It must be ever so exciting,’ Frankie breathed.

      ‘Hey, she doesn’t do it for fun,’ Darius protested. ‘I didn’t find it exciting to be stuck in the water, wondering if I’d ever get out.’

      ‘But Dad, she saved you,’ Mark pointed out.

      ‘Yes,’ he agreed quietly. ‘She saved me.’

      He might have said more, but something he saw over their shoulders made him straighten up, tense.

      ‘Hello, Father,’ he said.

      So that was Amos Falcon, Harriet thought. Research had made her familiar with his face, but the reality was startling. This was a fierce, uncompromising man with dark eyes shadowed by heavy brows. His mouth might once have been merely firm, but now it looked as though a lifetime of setting it in resolute lines had left it incapable of anything gentler. This was a giant, to be feared. And she did fear him, instinctively.

      More troubling still was the astonishing resemblance between him and Darius. They were the same height and with broad shoulders, features that were similar, even handsome. They were undoubtedly father and son.

      In how many ways? she wondered. Was Darius doomed to grow into a replica of a man everyone called awesome? Or was there still time for him to seek another path?

      Darius drew her forward for introductions, and she was surprised to see that Amos studied her intently. Of course, he was naturally concerned to know about his son’s companion. But she sensed there was more. His eyes, boring into her, seemed to combine knowledge, curiosity and harsh suspicion in equal measure. It was unnerving

      He made a polite speech of gratitude for Darius’s life, then introduced his wife, Janine, who smiled and also spoke of gratitude. She struck Harriet as a modest, retiring woman, which probably suited Amos.

      ‘And this is my daughter, Freya,’ she said, indicating a tall young woman beside her.

      This was the wife the powerful Amos had chosen for Darius. She didn’t look like the kind of female who would shrink back and let herself be a pawn. She was tall, fair, well, but not extravagantly dressed, with an air of self-possession. She shook Harriet’s hand vigorously and said all the polite things before hailing Darius with an unmistakable air of sisterly derision. Harriet discovered that she liked Freya a lot.

      There were more arrivals, people approaching the dais to be greeted, and the crowd moved on and shifted her with it. When Darius began to lead her around the room, introducing her to people, she couldn’t resist looking back and found Amos staring after her.

      Glancing about her, Harriet was more than ever glad that she was dressed in style. This was a gathering of the rich and mighty, and at least she looked as though she belonged amongst them, however fake it might be.

      It was clear that Darius really did belong in this gathering. Many of them knew him and spoke respectfully. They knew he’d taken a hit, but so had they, and his fortunes could yet recover, so they addressed him as they had always done, crossing their fingers.

      Harriet found herself remembering the day she’d overheard him on the phone vowing, ‘no mercy!’ How long ago that seemed now that she’d discovered his other side. But these people had never discovered it, and wouldn’t have believed it if she’d told them.

      And nor, she realised, would Darius want them to believe it. Much of his power depended on a ruthless image.

      ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked suddenly.

      ‘Matter? Nothing?’

      ‘Why are you giving me that curious look?’

      ‘I didn’t know I was.’

      ‘What’s going on in that mind of yours?’

      ‘Nothing. My mind is a pure blank.’

      He grinned. ‘You’re a very annoying woman, you know that?’

      ‘Have you only just found that out?’

      ‘I guess I’m still learning. Come on, let’s have a good time.’

      SUDDENLY Darius’s face lit up at something he’d seen over Harriet’s shoulder. ‘Jackson, you young devil. Where have you been?’

      The young man approaching them was sufficiently like Darius to be his brother, yet better looking. His features were more regular, less interesting, she thought. Most women would have called him handsome.

      He greeted Darius with a friendly thump on the shoulder and stood back to survey him with pleasure.

      ‘I’ve been abroad,’ he said. ‘I just got back yesterday to find that nobody had seen hide nor hair of you for ages. Where did you vanish to?’

      ‘Herringdean. I’m the unexpected owner of an island off the south coast. This lady—’ he drew Harriet forward ‘—lives there and has been kind enough to be my guide and friend.’

      Jackson beamed and engulfed her hand in his. ‘I don’t know how you put up with him,’ he said.

      ‘Neither do I,’ she said, liking him immensely.

      ‘Did I hear right? Herringdean? The Herringdean?’

      ‘I don’t know of any other,’ she said.

      Delight broke over his face. ‘You’ve got fulmars there, haven’t you?’

      ‘Yes, plenty of them. They’re beautiful.’ Light dawned. ‘Hey, I’ve seen you before, haven’t I? On television?’

      ‘I’ve done a programme or two,’ he agreed. ‘But never one about fulmars. Could you and I have a talk some time soon?’

      ‘Of course we can.’

      ‘Then you can really have a deep discussion

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