Читать книгу Boardroom To Bedroom - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 10

‘HARRIET, I don’t understand you! There’s Matt telling me that things are serious between the two of you and you haven’t said a word! Why not?’

‘Er…well, until he called me into his office I didn’t know that things were serious,’ Harriet explained, mentally justifying her statement by reminding herself that it was the truth after all—if not in the way that Ben would interpret it.

‘Well, once Cindi knows this she’s going to—’

‘Be very relieved,’ Harriet finished firmly for him, adding, ‘If you love her as much as I think you do, Ben, you won’t make an issue of this silly mistake about me. After all, if she didn’t love you she wouldn’t care about my relationship with you, would she?’

‘No… But…’ He gave a small sigh. ‘She had a few days’ holiday to use and she’s gone to see her parents—cooling off time, she called it.’

‘Well, if I were you I’d be waiting for her when she comes back with something very romantic planned.’

‘Yes. I’ll do that.’ He paused, and then said worriedly, ‘Harry, this thing between you and Matt… Don’t rush into…anything, will you? I mean, you haven’t… He hasn’t… And Matt is…’

Oh, yes! Matt most certainly was, Harriet agreed mentally as she told Ben lightly, ‘You worry about your own love life, Ben, and leave me to worry about mine.’

Smiling at him, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

Within seconds the phone on her desk rang, and when Harriet picked up the receiver she heard Matt saying coldly, ‘I’ve booked a table for us at the Riverside for nine p.m. I’ll pick you up. And by the way, I thought I’d made it clear there’s only one man you kiss from now on and it isn’t Ben!’

Harriet wanted to tell him that there was no way she intended to have dinner with him, but he had already ended the call. Silently she replaced the receiver. Her head was whirling and her heart was pounding at the thought of what had happened.

Matt had asked her if she wanted people to believe that she was secretly in love with Ben, and of course she didn’t. But the cure he was offering her was far, far more dangerous than the supposed disease!

And how ridiculous it was for him to go to the lengths of taking her out to dinner just to stop her seeing Ben, as she had planned. Her heart gave a funny little jerk as it threw itself against her ribcage. She acknowledged that there was a certain dangerous pleasure in the thought of Matt having the kind of feelings about her that would cause him to feel jealous of her being with another man. Not that he was ever likely to!

The Riverside was the area’s most exclusive hotel, and was run by an ex-TV chef and his model wife. What on earth was she going to wear? And what on earth was she doing worrying about what she was going to wear when she had so much that was far more important to worry about?

Displacement therapy, that was what it was! And nothing whatsoever to do with any wild and totally idiotic desire to have Matt take one look at her and wish that he was serious about her for real!

Matt stared out of the large window of his penthouse suite above the office block. He had bought the suite because it saved time to live and work in the same building, and he’d hired a turnkey designer to sort out the décor for him. The result was a state-of-the-art modern living space in which he constantly felt as though he was somehow a jarring and unnecessary presence, breaking up the place’s austere and sterile symmetry of grey on grey, chrome, glass and granite.

Harriet would, of course, be fiercely contemptuous of it—and no doubt of him for living in it. He just somehow knew that she was an Aga and comfortable country house kind of woman. And somewhere deep down Matt suspected that a part of him was dangerously close to being an Aga and country house kind of man, with four children, who chose to work at home so that he could be with them…

Because of Harriet? Matt started to frown. Why the hell had he fallen in love with her? How the hell had he fallen in love with her? He’d only had to look at her to know what that red hair and passionate energy were going to mean! And that was without the complication of her blinkered fixation on a man who didn’t want her. If he had any sense he would… He would what? Turn his back and walk away from her?

So why the hell was he sitting here reliving the feel of that thick silky waterfall of hair running through his fingers and the effect of those awesome green eyes looking up into his?

If he hadn’t had the presence of mind to push her away there was no knowing what might have happened. No knowing? Matt derided himself savagely— he knew damn well what would have happened: what he had wanted to happen and where he had wanted to have it happen!

It had stunned Matt when a male business associate had commented enviously on his ‘playboy’ reputation, remarking on the number of women Matt was known to have dated. It had never occurred to him that the method he had chosen of trying to eliminate his feelings for Harriet would result in him gaining the reputation of a would-be stud! The truth about his supposed ‘reputation’ was that it was largely unfounded.

His recent succession of dinner dates had been just that—dinner dates! And by his choice! In fact he couldn’t remember the last time…

Restlessly he got up and walked over to the large window with its view of the city.

Liar, he goaded himself mentally. Of course he could damn well remember. And he could remember too that halfway through dinner he had suddenly looked at his elegant blonde-haired companion and realised with a savage stab of anger that he was both totally unaroused by her and totally bored with her.

That had been the evening after he had interviewed Harriet for the job. His date had been none too pleased to be returned home instead of being taken to bed, and she had let him know it!

Matt frowned as he heard his intercom buzz.

Striding over to it, he flipped it on.

‘Matt, it’s Ben. I need to talk with you.’

Matt hesitated briefly before answering, ‘Fine— come up, Ben.’

As he opened the door to him Matt could see the way Ben looked admiringly around the apartment.

‘This is way cool, Matt,’ he enthused. ‘But Harry won’t like it—’ he began, then stopped, looking selfconscious.

‘It’s okay, Ben. I know this place isn’t to Harriet’s taste,’ Matt offered, intending to reassure him, but to his surprise Ben suddenly started to scowl fiercely.

‘Harriet’s been up here, then, has she?’ he demanded, looking pugnacious.

‘We are dating,’ Matt answered obliquely, an unfamiliar and unwanted sensation of having been wrong-footed suddenly hitting him.

Ben’s current attitude was not exactly that of a young man who resented Harriet’s emotional dependence on him and wanted her taken off his hands at any cost.

‘It’s about Harry that I came to see you,’ Ben told him determinedly, giving Matt the kind of look he last remembered receiving from the very protective father of the girl he had taken to his first school dance.

‘I see. Would you like to sit down? Or is it going to be a short conversation?’ Matt asked drily.

A tinge of colour darkened Ben’s face, but his jaw was still set stubbornly. He had come up here for a purpose and he wasn’t going to leave until he had a reassured himself on Harriet’s behalf. She was his best friend, after all, and, knowing what he did about his own sex, he wanted to make sure she would be all right.

‘Harry hasn’t said much about how things got going between the two of you…’ he began. ‘In fact, I wouldn’t have thought she was your type. I’ve known her since we were kids, and she’s my best friend.’ Ben stopped, took a deep breath, then began again. ‘You said you were serious about Harriet and I hope that you mean that, Matt, because Harry just isn’t the type of woman who would let a man into her life in a personal sort of way if she didn’t care a hell of a lot about him. She was pretty badly hurt by a rat of a guy when we were at university. Luckily she had the sense to listen to me when I warned her about him, so things never went too far, if you know what I mean. Of course I know it isn’t anyone’s business but their own how many partners a person has had, and I don’t suppose I’d be all that pleased myself if I found I’d got a virgin on my hands…’ Matt pressed on doggedly.

A virgin! Ben was trying to tell him that Harriet was a virgin?

Two vastly different emotions speared through Matt at the same time. One was a savage protective fury with Harriet for loving Ben to the extent that she did—ridiculously, in this day and age, she was saving herself for him—and the other was a fierce and disgraceful thrill of hot male hunting instinct. An assured and certain determination to ensure that he was the one who released Harriet from the sensual imprisonment of her virginity.

‘So you see,’ Ben was continuing, ‘if your intentions towards her aren’t honourable, so to speak, then it would be better—’

‘Ben,’ Matt interrupted him firmly, ‘I can assure you that my intentions are very honourable.’

‘You mean…commitment…? Marriage?’ Ben questioned.

Matt’s mouth compressed.

‘Yes, I mean just that,’ he agreed. He meant it, all right, he recognized—after all, he couldn’t be any more emotionally committed to her than he was. She already occupied his thoughts 24/7, and as for marriage…

As for marriage! His heart lurched against his ribs and pain tore into him. If circumstances had been different, if Harriet had felt about him as he did about her, then of course he would be wanting marriage, Matt acknowledged grimly. And so, he damned well hoped, after what Ben had just told him, would she!

‘You do? Oh, well, that’s all right then!’

Beaming with delight, Ben got to his feet to shake Matt’s hand. ‘Great girl is Harry,’ he assured him enthusiastically. ‘Good sense of humour, great legs. Must say I was worried… I thought you might just be… Well, I thought I’d better warn you that Harriet isn’t that sort of woman.’

No, she wasn’t. And Matt decided grimly that he suspected he knew why!

‘Thank you, Ben,’ he said, dismissing his guest.

Half an hour later, when Harriet opened her door to Matt’s knock, the great legs were in evidence but the sense of humour was not.

Not that Matt was in the best of moods himself. The fierce sexual elation he had felt at being told that Harriet was a virgin had given way to an equally fierce and savage fury that she should be idiotic enough to want to save herself for Ben. Ben who did not want her and who, quite plainly, was not right for her! It was, Matt had decided, just the kind of ill-judged, crazy thing a stubborn woman like her would do—saving the gift of herself as well as her love for just one man.

Of course if he had been the man…

Harriet took a step back in the hallway as she saw the way Matt was glaring at her. No doubt in his eyes she didn’t come anywhere near matching the sophisticated elegance of the women he normally took out to dinner. Her dress was four years old, a simple basic black crêpe number which up until now she had always felt she looked quite good in. With it she was wearing her one pair of expensive shoes, high-heeled and, if she was honest, just a little bit uncomfortable.

‘Do you live here alone?’ Matt demanded, frowning as he looked up and down the narrow dark lane.

‘Yes, I do,’ Harriet confirmed. ‘I shared with Ben at university, but—’

‘Now he wants his own space?’ Matt broke in, without allowing her to finish.

Angrily Harriet tilted her chin and told him firmly, ‘Actually, I am the one who wanted my own space. And my own washing machine and my own bed!’ she added pithily, remembering how much it had infuriated her to return from a visit somewhere, pre-Cindi, to find that one of Ben’s mates had ‘borrowed’ her bed in her absence.

Matt’s mouth compressed. When was she going to see sense and accept that Ben did not want her?

‘If you’re trying to convince me that you shared Ben’s bed you’re wasting your time,’ he told her angrily.

Immediately Harriet stepped back into the house, but as she reached for the door to turn and slam it Matt guessed what she was about to do and grabbed hold of her wrist.

‘Look, why won’t you face up to the truth? What is it about you that makes it so hard for you to accept that Ben doesn’t want you?’ he demanded brutally.

If she really had loved Ben the way Matt seemed to think she did his words would have been unbelievably hurtful and cruel, Harriet decided. ‘What is it about you that makes you think you’ve got the right to tell me what to do?’ she countered, trying to get her wrist back.

‘I’ve told you what my motivation is,’ Matt answered, refusing to release her.

‘And I’m telling you that you are barking up the wrong tree. I do not love Ben other than as a friend!’

‘How can you say that when—’

‘When what?’ Harriet challenged when Matt suddenly stopped speaking.

‘When you can’t string a sentence together without including his name in it,’ Matt said evasively.

What the hell was happening to him? He had almost blurted out what Ben had told him.

‘We’d better make tracks, otherwise we’ll be late,’ he added curtly.

Harriet glared at him. ‘If you think I’m going to have dinner with you now—’

She gasped as Matt tugged on her wrist and closed the space between them.

‘If you think that you aren’t…’ he retorted softly.

It must be the fact that she was not wearing a coat, coupled with the evening air, that was making her tremble so much, Harriet decided dizzily. But the truth was that it was the musky male scent of Matt’s skin playing havoc with her senses, making her want to bury her face against him and breathe it and him into her. She wanted to burrow against his warmth, she wanted…

A shudder ripped through her, causing Matt to curse under his breath and drag her into his arms, holding her hard against his body as he lifted his hand to cup her face and take possession of her mouth.

Right now, more than anything else, he wanted to take her back into the house, carry her upstairs and remove every piece of clothing from her body so that he could show her just what a fool she was for wasting her time wanting Ben when she could have him. That scent she was wearing was driving him crazy, making him feel so damned horny…

Harriet moaned excitedly beneath the hot, thrilling thrust of his tongue. Her fingers dug into the hardness of his shoulders as pleasure exploded inside her like a firework, showering her with golden starbusts of erotic sensation. She could feel his hand in the thick softness of her hair, his thumb massaging the delicate over-sensitive spot just behind her ear and sending a hot zigzag of female arousal jolting right through her.

Just his touch was enough to activate the kind of ache inside her that she already knew would lead to a sleepless, wanting night.

She might, thanks to Ben’s determined and sometimes unwanted protection, be the oldest virgin in the whole city, but that did not mean that her body didn’t already know how to respond to the sweet hotness of the pleasure that could possess and convulse it.

These last months working for Matt had shown her how easy it was for just the thought of him to activate that pleasure, and right now her over-stimulated senses were clamouring hungrily for the real thing.

‘Why don’t we forget dinner?’

Harriet blinked. How had that happened? How had she said the very words she had just been thinking but in Matt’s voice?

Matt groaned inwardly as he realised how out of control he was getting. ‘Forget I said that!’ he told her tersely.

Forget he had said it?

‘I suppose you thought I was someone else?’ Harriet challenged him angrily.

‘Just as you wish that I was someone else?’ Matt demanded.

Whilst Harriet struggled to regain her composure Matt hurried them both out of her front door and locked it, handing her the keys before he guided her to his parked car.

Harriet was too engrossed in her own thoughts to object to his cavalier control of the situation, along with her door keys. She had wanted Matt to take her to bed! No, Harriet corrected herself. She had wanted to drag Matt upstairs and take him to bed, and she had nearly told him so!

‘Look, there’s no point in you giving me the silent disapproving treatment because I’m not Ben. Try facing up to reality!’

Harriet didn’t trust herself to reply. She just shook her head in silent frustration.

‘Good evening, sir, madam. Would you care for a drink in the bar first? Or would you prefer to go straight to your table?’

Matt looked questioningly at Harriet.

‘Straight to the table, please,’ she answered, ruefully aware that despite everything she was extremely hungry. And she was also extremely aware of the fact that they were being shown to what had to be one of the restaurant’s very best tables, with a little almost private area all to itself. They could see out through the windows over the river and also around the restaurant, if they wished, and yet at the same time retain their own privacy.

Grimly she wondered how many other women Matt had brought here. An awful lot if the way the head waiter had recognised him was anything to go by, surely?

She had barely completed her chain of thought when Matt suddenly announced, ‘I’m surprised that Henri remembered me—it’s ages since I last ate here.’

Harriet almost choked on the delicious walnut roll she was eating.

‘There wasn’t really any need for you to do this, you know,’ she said later, when they had given their order and been served with their food. ‘After all, Ben isn’t going to see us here!’

‘Do you wish he could? Do you think it would make him jealous?’

Harriet exhaled fiercely down her nose and put down the glass of wine she had just picked up.

‘For the last time, I am not in love with Ben. And having him around when I am out on a date is normally the last thing I would want.’ When Matt frowned she told him fiercely, ‘This may come as a shock to you, but the only way I love Ben is as a brother, and it’s as a brother that he behaves when I date anyone—a very over-protective brother at times, and that isn’t always what I want!’ she added darkly.

She stopped as she realised how much the wine had loosened her tongue and just what she was in danger of saying and to whom!

‘In answer to your question, I brought you here to save you from the temptation of going to see Ben,’ Matt said curtly, before continuing, ‘I don’t need to ask why you don’t want Ben treating you like a brother. You obviously want him to think of you as a potential lover, not a sister, and because he doesn’t, you—’

‘You are just misinterpreting what I said to suit your own ends,’ Harriet objected angrily. ‘That is not what I meant at all.’

They were glaring at one another like two opponents, their argument only brought to an end by the waiter coming to remove their plates for the next course.