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A Most Determined Bachelor
Miriam Macgregor
The bachelor…Ryan Ellison was a confirmed bachelor who had sworn off all women. Only, he'd agreed to let six-year-old Robin come and stay with him, not realizing that Robin came complete with a delectable–and all too female–nanny.…and the nanny!Judy Arledge couldn't help but be attracted to Ryan, even if he was utterly infuriating. But despite his antagonism toward her, he was wonderful with Robin. Which made her wonder… Was Ryan only the boy' s "uncle," as he claimed, or could this eligible bachelor really be Robin' s father?
“Do you think this man will follow you to Napier?” (#u1b64ff66-7298-52c7-ae81-cbaf3f18c95e)About the Author (#ucafde708-c2f9-5010-8dac-bc8e57ea38e1)Title Page (#u4f36a3dd-9b8e-5ad8-b71e-7bde32bb1da7)CHAPTER ONE (#u3eb6e9d9-8e3a-5969-9de7-db009b065778)CHAPTER TWO (#u44145b06-803f-52f6-99e7-1fee1d677f84)CHAPTER THREE (#uc9d9e81f-20d3-5e42-8cf5-7ab7ffd9d662)CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
“Do you think this man will follow you to Napier?”
“I hope not. I don’t want to see him again—ever.” The last word was spat with vehemence.
Ryan regarded her with concern. “In that case, you’ll have to take care you’re not caught on the rebound,” he warned. “If a handsome stranger comes along and is particularly nice to you—you might fall flat at his feet Metaphorically speaking, of course,” he added with a twinkle in his eye.
“That’s most unlikely,” she retorted coldly. “Just as you appear to be allergic to women, I’m in a similar frame of mind concerning men. At the moment I look upon them as being anything but trustworthy.”
“Thank you very much,” he growled. “Not even present company excepted, I notice.”
Judy decided to be frank. “I just feared you might be referring to yourself as the handsome stranger,” she said, while giving a light laugh to soften her words.
Miriam Macgregor has written eight books of historical nonfiction, but turned to romance in 1980. Many years on a sheep and cattle farm in New Zealand gave her an insight into rural life. She lived on the coast at Westshore, a suburb of Napier, where her desk overlooked Hawke Bay, a corner of the South Pacific Ocean. She has recently swapped the Pacific Ocean for the Atlantic and emigrated to Middlesex, England. She enjoys painting in oils, watercolors and pastels, and does her own housework and gardening while planning her romantic novels.
A Most Determined Bachelor
Miriam Macgregor
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CHAPTER ONE
THE small boy tugged at Judy’s sleeve. ‘Isn’t Uncle Ryan here to meet us?’ he queried anxiously.
Judith Arledge’s blue eyes scanned the crowd in the small New Zealand airport. A buzz of happy chatter vibrated on the air as people greeted friends or relatives who had recently disembarked from the plane that had just touched down at Napier. It was nice to be welcomed with enthusiasm, she thought wistfully, then wondered about the man who was supposed to be meeting herself and Robin.
Where was Ryan Ellison?
‘We’d better sit down and wait,’ she said with a hint of resignation, then took Robin’s hand and led him towards two empty seats.
‘Where is Uncle Ryan?’ the boy demanded fretfully.
Judy gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘Perhaps he’s been held up. No doubt he’ll be along soon.’ This, she hoped, would prove to be a fact, otherwise she didn’t know what to do or where to go.
Searching in her mind for comfort, she recalled the words of Robin’s grandmother. ‘Ryan will definitely be there to meet you,’ Hilda Simmons had promised, when making arrangements with Judy to take the little boy from Christchurch, in the South Island, to Napier, in the North Island.
But—how shall I recognise him?’ Judy had queried doubtfully. She was not at all happy with the task that had been presented to her, and not for the first time wondered how she’d been catapulted into accepting it. But at least it would give her a short period away from Christchurch, which was something she felt herself to be in dire need of.
Hilda Simmons had been anything but vague. A faint snort had escaped her as she’d said, ‘Don’t worry, you’ll spot him at once. Ryan Ellison will stride into that airport as though he owns the place. Every woman will turn to look at him. I can tell you he’s a man who stands out in a crowd I suppose it’s his success that gives him such an air of confidence.’
‘But—what does he look like?’ Judy had persisted.
‘Tall—broad-shouldered—dark auburn hair. But you needn’t be concerned about him recognising you.’ The older woman had cast a dismissive glance over Judy’s blonde wavy hair. ‘It’s Robin he’ll be searching for. My Verna’s son—you understand?’
Robin’s voice interrupted her thoughts. ‘Judy-is Uncle Ryan my real uncle, or just a pretend uncle like Uncle Alan?’
Judy shifted uneasily in her seat. ‘You can forget Uncle Alan,’ she told him firmly. ‘You’ll not be seeing him again.’
‘Why?’ Hazel eyes regarded her with surprise.
‘Because I’ll not be seeing him again, either,’ she said through compressed lips.
‘Why?’ The boy’s eyes widened.
She tried to remain calm. ‘Because he’s not to be trusted, so please don’t mention his name again—ever. As for Uncle Ryan—I’m not sure where he fits in.’ She realised the boy knew little about his relatives, and that for some reason his mother and grandmother forced him to lead a sheltered life. It made her speak guardedly while turning to brush back his fringe of dark brown hair, that held hints of red when the sun shone on it. ‘It’s possible that Uncle is just a courtesy title,’ she added.
‘What’s courtesy?’
‘It means being polite,’ she explained patiently. Then, regarding the freckles sprinkled across his nose and cheeks, she went on, ‘As you are only six, and he’s a mature man, it’s more polite for you to call him Uncle.’
‘Are you mature, Judy?’
She smiled ruefully. ‘At twenty-three I should be, although I’m now beginning to wonder about it.’ How could a mature person be taken in by a man as disloyal as Alan Draper? she pondered. She should have seen through him from the beginning.
Robin swept away her bitter thoughts. ‘Shall I be going to school in Napier?’
‘No, dear. It’s July. The schools are still closed for the winter holidays. Your grandmother says you’ve been rather bronchial lately, and as Napier is a warmer place than Christchurch she thought it would be wise to get you away from the cold South Island winds. That’s why she rang Uncle Ryan about spending some time with him.’
‘What’s bronchial?’
She simplified the answer. ‘Chest colds that make you cough a lot Have you been like that?’
He shook his head.
Judy frowned, her blue eyes regarding the boy thoughtfully. She saw quite a lot of Robin. Almost every day after school he came through a hole in the hedge dividing his grandmother’s and her parents’ properties, but so far she’d noticed nothing bronchial about him. He appeared to be a perfectly healthy lad who wolfed down the cookies and orange drinks she often provided for him. In fact it was this kindness to the lad that had landed her in her present situation.
Sitting at the kitchen table one day, Robin had said casually, ‘My Gran is very, very cross. She’s so angry she’s nearly crying.’
Judy had looked at him in amazement. She could imagine Hilda Simmons being cross, because it was a state not at all foreign to her. But for her neighbour to reach the stage of tears was something she was unable to visualise. Should she go next door to see if there was anything she could do to help? Judy was the type of person who liked to help.
At the same time she hesitated, fearing that Hilda Simmons might consider she was intruding upon a private matter. Nevertheless, the thought of her being so upset disturbed Judy, particularly as she was an elderly widow whose daughter, Robin’s mother, was away at present. Tentatively, she asked, ‘Why is your gran so upset?’
His mouth half full, Robin said, “Cos Mrs Fulton won’t do something she wants her to do.’
Judy looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Could I help? Is it something I could do for her?’
‘I don’t know...’
Judy made a decision. She might be putting herself in the position of being told to mind her own business, but if her neighbour needed assistance she felt it should be of fered. Impulsively, she said, ‘Finish your drink and we’ll go and see your gran.’
Robin had not exaggerated the extent of his grandmother’s anger. She was frothing mad, yet her face cleared and a speculative look crept into her eyes as Judy stepped into the neighbouring kitchen.
‘Robin said you need a little help,’ the latter began.
‘Oh, I do—I do!’ Hilda Simmons exclaimed. She was a tall, dominant woman of generous proportions, and her dark eyes held a piercing glint. People usually found themselves doing as she demanded, but in this case she did not appear to have been completely successful. ‘That wretched Pulton woman has let me down,’ she went on in an aggrieved tone. ‘She’s one of my bridge players. She was going to Napier and had promised to take Robin with her. She was to leave him with Ryan—but now she’s had to cancel her trip.’
Who was Ryan? Judy wondered at that stage.
Hilda’s wrath then turned towards her daughter. ‘It was very selfish of Verna to go skiing at the beginning of the school holidays,’ she complained. ‘She has no right to put the responsibility for Robin on me. She knows he’s becoming more than I can cope with. She knows I can’t allow my good works to suffer because of a small boy who is often very naughty.’
The last words were accompanied by a dark glare towards Robin, who stood listening with a sullen look on his small face and his lower lip thrust slightly forward.
‘It would be dreadful if he had one of his tantrums in front of my bridge ladies,’ Hilda added, the mere thought causing a hint of horror to creep into her voice.
Judy made no reply. She considered Hilda Simmons to be an overbearing woman who was capable of coping with anything. Nor did she find it difficult to imagine her placing the responsibility of Robin on somebody else herself. As for the ‘good works’—they were little more than afternoon bridge parties which resulted in a few dollars going to charity. Even so, Hilda’s next words had given her a shock.
Taking a deep breath, the older woman drew herself to her full height as she said, ‘Well—you asked if there was anything you could do to help. As it happens, there is. You can take Robin to Napier and leave him with Ryan Ellison.’
‘Me-?’ The word came out like a squeak as Judy gaped at her.
‘Of course you’ll be paid. That should be a help, considering you’re currently out of work.’ Hilda paused before adding thoughtfully, ‘I feel sure he’ll be safe with Ryan.’
Her last words surprised Judy. ‘Safe? Safe from what?’
Hilda ignored the question as she said, ‘Don’t allow him to talk to any strange men. One hears so much about these ghastly people...’
The thought made Judy shudder, but she managed to speak calmly. ‘I think you’re worrying needlessly, Mrs Simmons. Air hostesses will do the job for you. Children often travel in the care of hostesses. They’re very reliable—’
Hilda pursed thin lips. ‘But they’d be strangers to Robin, whereas he knows you,’ she said, with unexpected grandmotherly concern. ‘I’m afraid he’s not very good with women he doesn’t know, although he’s quite at ease with men.’
A sigh escaped Judy. ‘Very well, I’ll take him. Job-hunting will have to wait until I return to Christchurch.’
Hilda breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you, my dear. And don’t forget to warn Ryan about what happens if the boy becomes unduly upset. You know what I mean...’
Judy had nodded without uttering the dreaded word bed-wetting.
Hilda stood looking at Judy reflectively, her dark eyes taking in the latter’s lovely face, with its clear complexion, straight nose and sweetly generous mouth. The blonde hair curling about the slim shoulders made her look much younger than her twenty-three years, and, almost as if noticing her neighbour’s beauty for the first time, the older woman spoke firmly. ‘Of course there’ll be no need for you to stay in Napier. Ryan’s housekeeper will take care of Robin as soon as he becomes accustomed to her. You may come home the next day.’
Judy felt puzzled. ‘I can? But—who will bring Robin home?’
‘Naturally, Verna will make the trip to fetch him. It’s high time she made contact with Ryan again. Actually—he should have married her years ago.’ Hilda’s eyes blazed with a flash of anger. ‘But has he done so? No—he has not. According to his housekeeper, he’s thrown himself into agricultural pursuits and has become a veritable land baron. She said it’s difficult to know whether he owns the land, or whether the land owns him. She also said his house sees as much social life as a hermit’s cave. But of course Verna would alter all that.’
Robin broke into Judy’s ponderings, his voice holding an anxious note as he said, ‘I don’t think Uncle Ryan is pleased we’re coming to stay with him. That’s why he’s not here to meet us.’
Judy sent him a curious glance, but forced herself to speak casually. ‘Why do you say that?’
“Cos Gran kept frowning when she talked to him on the phone. She was very, very cross. I think Uncle Ryan was cross too.’ His eyes looked at her pleadingly. ‘Judy—could we go home—now?’
She felt disturbed. ‘No, dear, I’m afraid that’s impossible. At least, not today.’ Had a word of welcome been missing from the other end of the line? she wondered. Her arm went about Robin in a comforting gesture as she added, ‘If Uncle Ryan stays cross with us we shall go home very soon.’ she promised.
By this time the airport was emptying. Luggage had been collected, people were departing, and it was then that Judy became aware of the man who stood watching them. Judging him to be about thirty, and over six feet in height, he stood with his arms folded across a broad chest. Their eyes met and their locked gazes held for several long moments while instinct told her that this was Ryan Ellison.
‘A man who stands out in a crowd’, Hilda Simmons had said, and Judy could only agree that he would make any girl look twice. But she hadn’t expected him to be quite so handsome, and as he came towards them her legs suddenly felt weak and shaky. Olive-green eyes swept over her, and when he spoke it was with a deep, vibrant voice that fitted in with the rest of him.
‘Is it possible you’re Mrs Fulton and that this lad is Robin Bryant?’ he queried.
It took her a moment to gather her wits. ‘Mrs Fulton? No—I’m Judith Arledge. But this is Robin... I presume you’re Mr Elison?’ As he nodded she went on to explain, ‘Mrs Fulton was unable to make her visit to Napier, so Mrs Simmons arranged with me to bring Robin to you. Didn’t she tell you about this change of plan?’
His tone became crisp. ‘Indeed she did not.’
Observing his sudden scowl, she said, ‘Is there a problem with that?’
‘It’s possible—unless you have friends in Napier with whom you can stay. However, we’ll discuss it later. I presume you have suitcases?’ He lifted Judy’s cabin bag, then led the way to where the main luggage was to be collected.
Holding Robin’s hand, she followed meekly, the problem being easy to guess. Mrs Fulton, she realised, would have left the boy with this man and then gone on her way, whereas she herself expected to stay with the lad at least for one night. But this, from the sound of his tone, did not suit Ryan Elison, and suddenly Judy felt very forlorn and unwanted. Depression settled upon her as she identified their two suitcases, but she tried to shake it off by telling herself she was overreacting.
A short time later they were seated in a dark green Range Rover, little being said as Ryan drove them round the harbour, where yachts rested in the calm waters of the Napier Sailing Club’s marina. Beyond the masts several fishing boats lay at anchor, and after passing a small shopping area they were rewarded by the sight of Hawke Bay, its wide, circular wave-crested expanse rimmed by distant coastal hills. On the seafront ahead of them lofty Norfolk pines rose from a long grassy verge bordering the road. And across the road from the trees stretched a row of houses, their windows glistening from the rays of the late westering sun.
Ryan stopped the vehicle in front of a wide, white two-storey house that faced the bay. A garage formed part of its base, and instead of a garden the frontage had been paved, to form a parking area between the house and the road. It was large enough to accommodate several cars, its austerity softened and made colourful by tubs filled with winter-flowering pansies, anemonies in bud and shrubs of red japonica that stood in brilliant contrast against the wall.
He switched off the ignition, but instead of getting out of the Range Rover he turned to stare at Judy. ‘Miss Arledge—you’ ve not yet explained your situation,’ he reminded her smoothly. ‘Do you-or do you not have plans for your accommodation in Napier?’
She almost quailed beneath the hardness of his tone. ‘No—I’m afraid I haven’t—’
His lips tightened. ‘You mean you’re expecting to stay with me? Is that what you’re trying to say?’ The question was rasped.
‘If—if you’ll have me,’ she returned in a small voice.
‘Well—I must say this is an unexpected turn of events,’ he admitted bluntly.
Her delicate brows rose as she met his gaze with frankness. ‘I’m well aware that something about me niggles at you, Mr Ellison, but I’m darned if I can work out what it can be—or what I’ve done to merit your antagonism?’
His dark brows drew together. ‘Please understand that it’s nothing personal. It’s just that I didn’t think I’d be expected to offer hospitality to a girl such as yourself.’
‘There’s something wrong with me?’ Her eyes flashed at him indignantly, widening until the reflection from her deep blue padded rain-jacket made them glitter like sapphires.
‘Yes—plenty,’ he snapped. ‘You’re too damned attractive to be staying in a house alone with a man and a small boy. I don’t have young women living with me—and I intend to keep it that way.’
She spoke softly as light dawned. ‘I see. You have a girlfriend who would object?’
‘Not exactly.’ His tone had become terse. ‘However—I do happen to have a reason.’
‘But we wouldn’t be alone,’ she reasoned. ‘You have a housekeeper. Mrs Simmons said so.’
He spoke harshly. ‘Hilda Simmons—or the dragon as I prefer to think of her—was mistaken. Kate Coster, who attends to my washing and housework, has her own cottage next door. She does not live with me.’
Judy’s jaw sagged slightly. ‘Oh, I see...’
Robin’s voice piped up from the seat behind them. It sounded tearful. ‘Don’t you want us to stay with you, Uncle Ryan?’
The man sent a startled glance over his shoulder, and it seemed as if he’d momentarily forgotten the little boy’s presence. ‘Yes, of course I do,’ he said hastily. ‘It’s just that there are times when things can be inconvenient.’
Robin’s voice became even more plaintive as he asked another question. ‘Uncle Ryan, have you got a toilet in your house?’
