Читать книгу Fatherhood Fever! - Emma Darcy, Emma Darcy - Страница 8

CHAPTER THREE

“DOESN’T look like anyone else is coming,” Matt cheerfully remarked.

Peta had glumly arrived at the same conclusion. They’d been warming up on the tennis court for ten minutes, waiting for others to appear for the round robin. Apparently the rest of the guests were giving it a miss this afternoon. Which left her alone with him if she wanted to stay and play.

“Care for a game of singles?” he asked, the eagerness in his voice a dead-set giveaway. He wanted to show her how good he was. Macho man strutting his stuff. In more ways than one, no doubt.

Peta wondered if the workout he’d give her on the tennis court was worth the aggravation of dealing with a come-on and decided it probably was. She was a bit stiff from the ride this morning. A good hard game of singles, followed by a swim in the heated indoor pool, then the warm relaxation of a hot spa tub, a light dinner, the meditation session with Thai monks... surely she’d sleep like the dead tonight.

“Okay,” she agreed.

Predictably he started stripping off for the real action. The gentle warm-up ralleys had hardly been a test of skill, merely a stroking of the ball back and forth over the net. Peta watched him remove his tracksuit with cynical eyes, refusing to be impressed. She’d been fooled by physical attraction once too often. Never again, she fiercely vowed.

Not that he had Giorgio’s lean elegance. Matt Davis was a much bigger man, his tall frame amply packed with muscle. However he did share the same air of ingrained self-assurance, quick to sum up an object of desire and confident it was within his grasp any time he cared to reach out. Peta had instantly been struck by it and subsequently goaded into an uncharacteristic show of defiant provocation... Look all you want, Mister, but I’m not up for grabs!

All the same, he did have a certain charismatic maleness that no woman could completely ignore. Strength, Peta decided, was his main asset. Matt Davis looked capable of standing up to anyone or anything. It wasn’t just his powerful build, either. Peta sensed the kind of character that would take on any business and make a success of it.

He had a strong face, every feature carved with definition; a squarish, determined chin, a mouth full of straight white teeth, a nose that seemed to flare with passion, rather prominent cheekbones providing an emphatic underlining for surprisingly light grey eyes... very luminous and piercingly direct eyes shining from between rows of thick black lashes. Straight brows added to his no-nonsense look, as did the thick, closely cropped black hair.

Most people would see him as the solid, dependable type, but Peta wasn’t about to trust that image. She’d seen and felt the simmer of sexual speculation emanating from him and no way was she about to fulfil the fantasies flying through his head. Giorgio was definitely the last man who would ever lead her down the garden path, whispering sweet nothings that came to precisely that. Nothing. From now on she was taking charge of her life and she was not going to have her judgment seduced by sex appeal.

“Speaking of singles...are you?” she asked, looking for feet of clay under the magnificent masculinity now revealed in navy shorts and a white sports shirt. His tan, she noted, was not of the sun-lamp variety. It had the natural glow of healthy outdoors activity. However, that did not preclude lots of indoor activity, as well.

He frowned incomprehension. “Pardon?”

“Single, unattached, on the loose?” she rolled out with a quizzical little smile. “I mean the wife could be taking a separate vacation while you do your filial duty. Or you might have an understanding lover sidelined until further notice...”

“No,” he cut into her flippant little speech. “I’m not in a relationship at the moment. Haven’t been for quite some time.”

“Prefer to be fly-by-night, do you?” she tossed at him.

He hesitated. “Is that what you prefer?”

She arched her eyebrows and shook her head. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear about air hostesses and pilots.”

“I was asking about you in particular.”

“And I was asking about you. Some guys are take it and run specialists.”

She heard the bitter edge on her voice and saw it give him pause for thought. She didn’t care. If he was of that ilk, let him be warned the only thing he’d get from her was frustration.

“That’s not my style. Though I guess there could be circumstances that might influence me,” he answered slowly, his eyes sharply scanning hers.

“Well, it’s my guess you do whatever suits you, Matt Davis. Like the salt and the cigarette,” she said dryly.

And like Giorgio, keeping her on a string with a stack of cheating lies. Two years she’d wasted on him while he’d kept his real life hidden from her, holding out the promise of a future that was never going to happen. She’d hung on every flight to Rome, wild for the intense romance he showered on her, and all she’d been to him was a bit of fluff on the side.

She thought of her sister and the husband who adored her and their new baby and felt almost sick with envy. Why couldn’t she meet a decent man who didn’t shy clear of commitment? Just the mention of the word, baby, over lunch, had made Matt Davis bolt for a different tack in the conversation.

Her eyes flashed icy derision at the man who’d taken one look at her today and got bed on his brain.

“You want to know about me? I’ll tell you straight before you start nursing any ideas of fun and games.

The next guy who wants to get in my pants will have to put a wedding ring on my finger first!”

His jaw visibly sagged.

Peta smiled. “Ready to play now?”