Читать книгу Red-Hot Affairs: The Crown Affair / Craving Her Enemy's Touch / A Lone Star Love Affair - Lucy King, Lucy King - Страница 14

HE’D been right about those damn hot pants, thought Matt grimly, glancing at his watch and noting he had five minutes before his meeting with the finance minister to discuss exactly how deep the corruption that had burrowed into pretty much every governmental department went.

They did haunt his dreams. As, to his intense irritation, did Laura.

It was bad enough that the minute he crashed into bed there she was, her hair fanning out over his cushions, her eyes shimmering and glazed with desire as she stared up at him and saying ‘more’ and ‘please’ in that breathy desperate way she had.

It was bad enough that he woke up pretty much every morning, aching and throbbing and twitching with desire.

But what was really driving him nuts was the lack of control he seemed to have over his thoughts while he was awake.

She kept popping up, shooting smouldering smiles at him, and the memory of the way she’d exploded and shuddered in his arms would slam into his head and his train of thought would derail and his body would react with annoying inevitability.

Like now.

Feeling uncomfortably hot and growing painfully hard, Matt scowled, got up and stalked over to the window.

Quite why Laura should be taking up so much of his head space when she’d been just a one-night stand and when he had plenty of other things to occupy his mind was baffling.

OK, so the way she’d run off like that had hardly been flattering but it wasn’t as if he’d intended on seeing her again, was it? She clearly had issues and that wasn’t his problem. And yes, the sex had been incredible, but it had been three weeks ago. He really ought to have got over it by now.

Matt threw open the window and inhaled deeply. He’d have liked a nice icy blast of around minus five to relieve the hot achiness of his body. But unfortunately Sassania was in the Mediterranean not the Baltic, and this being early summer all that drifted in through the window was a soft balmy breeze.

Stifling a groan of frustration, he yanked open the top buttons of his shirt and made a mental note to get someone to investigate the air-conditioning options. Then at least he’d be able to control the temperature, if nothing else.

He was just about to turn back to grab his laptop and head off to his meeting when he heard the rap of heels on stone and caught a movement out of the corner of his eye.

Something, he had no idea what, made him pause. Made him train his focus on the woman walking across the patio.

For some reason his breathing faltered. The floor beneath his feet lurched. His pulse jumped. She was walking away from him, and he couldn’t be sure, but that looked just like Laura.

Matt blinked and gave his head a quick shake. No. That was nuts. It couldn’t be Laura. Because what would she be doing in his palace on his island? It was his feverish imagination working overtime, that was all. Lack of sleep, too, probably. And this damn stifling heat.

Nevertheless something about the way she moved had his eyes narrowing and awareness prickling his skin. Maybe it was the graceful sway of her hips. Or maybe it was the way she suddenly reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. She might be wearing a nifty little suit instead of a T-shirt and hot pants, but those curves looked very familiar.

As she stopped and turned to say something to the security guard accompanying her Matt caught a glimpse of her face and any lingering doubt fled.

His head swam for a second. His heart pounded. Hell. It was Laura.

He ran a hand over his face. Rubbed his eye and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then frowned.

What on earth was she doing here?

Had she come to apologise?

Had she decided she wanted more than just a one-night stand?

Or had she come to see what she could get out of their brief liaison?

She wouldn’t be the first, Matt thought, his mouth twisting into a cynical smile as he shoved his hands in his pockets and watched her gazing at the pillars and arches of the colonnades that surrounded the patio.

Several of the women he’d known in the past had got in touch to suggest that if he was ever on the lookout for a queen they’d be more than happy to occupy the position. And more than willing to provide heirs.

If Matt could have been bothered to reply he’d have told them they were wasting their time. Marriage and children did not feature on his agenda. He’d been engaged once and look what a disaster that had been. No. His jaw tightened. He wasn’t even cut out for a relationship, let alone anything more, so anyone who hoped otherwise could think again.

But if any of his suspicions were correct about Laura’s presence on Sassania, why hadn’t she asked to be led straight to him? Why was she now shaking the hand of his culture minister?

Matt frowned as his mind raced. Then the brief conversation he’d had with Giuseppe Ragazzi about the state of the country’s public buildings and the urgent need to restore them flashed into his head and realisation dawned.

Oh, damn. His heart sank. Laura was here for the job.

With the arrest of the former president on his mind at the time, he’d agreed to the request to hire an architect without really thinking about it. Now, he thought, his jaw tightening, he ought to have paid more attention. Imposed certain conditions, at the very least. Such as not engaging the services of one Laura Mackenzie.

No way could she be given the job. If she got the job she’d be there. In the palace. All the time. Screwing up his concentration and messing with his head. What with everything else going on, he did not need that kind of complication.

Laura held her breath. She’d done everything she could. She’d answered all the questions she’d been asked confidently and correctly. Outlined the vision she had for Sassania’s public buildings. Talked passionately about the career she loved, and clarified the reasons for her redundancy.

Now she was waiting on tenterhooks while Signore Ragazzi flicked through her portfolio with agonising thoroughness.

She wanted this job so badly. Apart from the fact that the idea of working on something she’d drooled over at college made her chest squeeze with excitement, it was such a prestigious project.

If she got it, she’d be made. Her battered professional pride would recover and she’d have her pick of jobs. Her former employers would read the sensational series of articles she’d write for Architecture Tomorrow and shake their heads at their stupidity in getting rid of her quite so speedily.

But if she didn’t … Where would that leave her?

The worries she’d managed to keep at bay crept into her head. What if Signore Ragazzi didn’t like her work? What if they’d had thousands of other applicants, all of whom had more and better experience than she did? What if she wasn’t up to the job? What if—?

Oh, for goodness’ sake. Releasing her breath before she passed out, Laura gave herself a quick shake and pulled herself together. What was the point of working herself up into a state? She’d take whatever decision he came to graciously and professionally, and face the consequences later.

Nevertheless when Signore Ragazzi closed her portfolio and looked up, she had to sit on her hands to stop them from whipping up and covering her eyes. Which was a good thing because if she’d had her eyes covered she wouldn’t have been able to see the wide smile he gave her.

Hope flared in her heart and her ears buzzed. Surely he wouldn’t be smiling like that if he was going to say thanks but no thanks.

‘Signorina Mackenzie,’ he said, and her breath caught. ‘I’m delighted to inform you that you have the job.’

The words took a couple of seconds to register. But when they did Laura felt like punching the air. Would it be completely inappropriate if she hurdled the desk, leapt into his lap and gave him a big kiss? Hmm. Perhaps. Just a little. Instead she settled for a grin. ‘I do?’

He smiled and nodded. ‘You do.’

A bubble of delight began to bounce round inside her. ‘That’s fantastic,’ she said, thinking that was quite an understatement.

He opened a drawer and extracted a sheaf of papers. ‘We think so. To be honest, you’re the only person we’ve called in for an interview, so the outcome has never been in doubt. The only obstacle we had foreseen would have been your lack of availability.’

He pushed the document across the desk and Laura glanced down at it, faintly stunned. ‘Oh.’

‘I’ve seen your work before. The Church of St Mary the Virgin?’ She managed a nod. ‘I particularly liked your sense of balance.’

Crikey. She’d never felt less balanced. ‘I’m so glad,’ she murmured.

‘We’d like to begin with the palace.’

‘Of course.’ Excitement clutched at her stomach. She’d studied every fabulous inch of the palace. Pored over photos and reports. Salivated over the flying buttresses and crumbling gargoyles and idolised every one of the six thousand windows. No amount of books and papers could get across the smell of the place, the vitality of the stone and the feel of the warm breeze on her skin when she’d stood outside the gate, the same warm breeze that must have caressed these walls for centuries. Walls that were now crumbling and collapsing.

‘When would you be able to begin?’

Right now would be fine with her. Or would that seem a little desperate? Not to mention totally impractical. She’d come with only her passport and her toothbrush. She was going to need a lot more than that. ‘In a week?’

‘Excellent.’ He beamed at her. ‘I’ll arrange for a suite to be made up for you.’

‘Thank you.’

‘If you’ll just sign here …’

He handed her a pen and Laura felt thrills scurrying through her. She’d done it. She’d actually done it.

Well, of course she had, she told herself as she floated back down to reality and worked her way through the contract. Her personal life might be a bit of a disaster, but she’d always been good at her job.

‘Will you excuse me?’ said Signore Ragazzi, cutting across her musings and picking up the phone, which had just started to ring.

He could strip and dance round his desk naked if he felt like it, Laura thought, finally getting to the last page and signing on the dotted line. She was busy wondering where would be the best place to start. The public rooms undoubtedly. Then the private areas. The gardens … Oh, the possibilities were endless and she lost herself in them.

It was only when she heard her own name that her ears pricked.

‘Yes, sir. Signorina Mackenzie has just accepted the position.’

Laura’s heart swelled with pride. She’d do the best job she could. Achieve the sort of result people would talk about for years, long after she left. After centuries of decline the palace deserved it. After all she’d been through, she deserved it.

‘Oh.’ At the tone of his voice for some reason her nerve endings tensed. ‘I’m afraid I can’t retract the offer, sir.’ His voice dropped. ‘She’s just signed the contract.’

Laura snapped her head up and stared at him. Someone wanted him to retract the offer? No, that couldn’t be possible.

Signore Ragazzi fell silent, went red and swivelled round in his chair so she couldn’t see him. ‘Nor can I rip it up,’ he added, his voice now dropping so low she had to strain to listen.

Rip it up? Who the hell was that on the other end of the line, and why did they not want her to have the job? What had she done to cause such offence? Had there been some sort of mistake and the job already been given to someone else? Laura’s chest squeezed at the thought that she might have had her dream snatched from her at the very last minute.

‘No, sir … Yes, sir … I’ll see to it immediately.’

Signore Ragazzi swivelled back and gave her a smile too bright to be genuine.

Laura clasped her hands together in her lap to stop them from flapping. ‘Is there a problem?’ she asked, bracing herself for the answer to be yes and for him to laugh and tell her it was all just one big joke.

‘No, no,’ he said, gathering up the contract she’d just signed in an effort, she suspected, to avoid eye contact. ‘Just one more tiny formality.’

‘Oh.’

He smoothed his hair, pushed his chair back and got up and indicated that she should do the same. ‘If you wouldn’t mind coming with me …’

‘Of course,’ Laura murmured, her heart beginning to thud. What on earth was going on?

The feeling of trepidation as she followed Signore Ragazzi didn’t abate. In fact it swelled to such proportions that she barely noticed the busts on pedestals lining the corridor. Or the old masters hanging on the walls. The only thing hammering at her brain was that something didn’t feel right.

Signore Ragazzi stopped in front of a pair of huge gilded doors and knocked. Laura’s heart banged with consternation.

‘Come in.’

At the sound of the voice from deep within, all the hairs at the back of her neck leapt up and her stomach clenched.

Something wasn’t right.

Because if it hadn’t been utterly impossible, she’d have sworn that that was Matt’s voice coming from the room.

But it couldn’t be Matt because that would be crazy. What would he be doing here?

No, Laura told herself, pulling her shoulders back, going through the doors that Signore Ragazzi held open and entering the room. First she’d thought she’d seen him in that restaurant in London. Now she imagined he was here? Hah. This was precisely why she’d vowed to have nothing whatsoever to do with men. They messed up your head. She was far better off sticking to inanimate objects like the crumbling cornice and the chipped reliefs that adorned this room.

Wow, she thought, her alarm momentarily vanishing as she looked up at the ceiling. Faded and dilapidated it might be, but it was still a magnificent room. And, she noted, letting her gaze drop and scan the space, an empty one. She hadn’t noticed Signore Ragazzi melt away. Perhaps she’d imagined that ‘come in’, too.

‘Hello, Laura.’

The deep lazy voice behind her nearly made her jump a foot in the air. Her heart lurched. She swung round and at the sight of the man leaning against the bookcase, his gaze pinned to her, the breath shot from her lungs. Shock and disbelief slammed through her.

Oh, good Lord. It was Matt.

Bewilderment clamoured at her brain. Her head went fuzzy, her blood zoomed to her feet and her vision blurred. Laura flung her arm out and grabbed on to the nearest thing to stop herself swooning.

The nearest thing happened to be Matt. For a second she clutched at his arm. But the feel of his muscles brought the memory of that afternoon careering back and she went dizzy all over again.

Jerking back, Laura dragged in a breath and willed the room to right itself.

No need to panic. There was bound to be some rational explanation for Matt being here. At this particular moment she couldn’t imagine what it could possibly be, but she’d figure it out somehow.

Just as soon as her heart rate slowed and her breathing returned to normal. Which would happen a lot quicker if he didn’t look quite so gorgeous. Wearing a pale blue shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and light brown chinos, he looked rumpled, incredibly sexy and oddly at home. His face was more tanned than when she’d last seen him and the lines around his mouth and eyes a little sharper, but if anything they just made him even more attractive.

Heat pooled in the pit of her stomach and began to spread through her body. Extinguishing it with a determination she hadn’t known she possessed, Laura ran her palms down her skirt and fixed a neutral smile to her face. ‘Matt,’ she said as coolly as she could, as if she weren’t completely clueless as to how to proceed. ‘How lovely to see you again.’

‘Quite.’ He didn’t look like he agreed. ‘How’s the bump?’

Laura blinked and tried not to think about the circumstances that had brought about the bang to her head or the consequences. ‘Fine. How was the rest of your weekend?’

‘Pleasingly uneventful.’

Oh. So he clearly hadn’t spent any time drifting around in a daze. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I live here.’

Right. Laura’s mouth opened and then closed. She couldn’t begin to work out where to start. Was he here for a job, too? ‘Village mansions a little on the small side?’

The ghost of a smile played at his lips and Laura had the uncomfortable feeling that he knew everything while she knew nothing.

‘It comes with my job.’

‘What do you do?’

‘Usually?’

How many jobs did he have? ‘Yes.’

‘I buy ailing businesses, turn them around and sell them for a profit.’

That didn’t make things any clearer. ‘Is that why you’re here?’

‘In a way.’

Laura frowned. ‘But you were the “sir” on the other end of the line.’

Matt nodded. ‘I was. Would you like to sit down?’

‘No, I’m fine.’

‘I think you should sit. You look a little pale.’

Was it any wonder? Laura thought, sinking into a leather library chair before her legs gave way. Baffled didn’t begin to describe the way she was feeling. ‘How did you know I was here?’

‘I saw you from the window.’

So that would account for the weird tingling that she’d experienced while she’d been walking across the patio. The twitchy feeling that had made her stop and ask the security guard about mosquitoes.

‘I don’t get it,’ she said, her eyebrows drawing together a fraction. ‘I’ve just been contracted to restore the palace. Why does it have anything to do with you?’

Matt moved round to sit on the edge of the huge partners’ desk. ‘It’s my palace.’

Maybe the state had given it to him in payment or something. Laura blinked but it didn’t make her brain hurt any less. ‘I’d have thought it would belong to the king.’

‘It does.’

His expression was unreadable, his eyes unfathomable. Which was a shame as she could really do with a little help here. Absolutely nothing was making any sense.

If the palace belonged to the king and it also belonged to him, then that would mean that Matt was the king. Her brain might be about to explode but she could work that much out. And if he was king what had he been doing in Little Somerford? What had he been doing smouldering at her, tearing off her clothing and taking her to heaven and back?

God, it was a good thing she was sitting down.

‘Who exactly are you?’ she said, not at all sure she wanted to have the horrible suspicions flying around her head confirmed.

‘You know who I am.’

‘I thought I did. I thought you were Matt Saxon.’ She gave a little shrug as if it didn’t bother her one way or the other. ‘It looks like I was wrong. Silly me.’

‘You weren’t. I am Matt Saxon. I happen to also be King of Sassania.’

Ah. There it was. Proof that she hadn’t been going mad. At least not within the past five minutes.

Laura gulped, completely unable to unravel the swirling mass of emotions rolling around inside her. Maybe it would be best to stick to facts. ‘Since when?’

‘Three weeks ago.’

‘Before or after we …’ she broke off and went red ‘… you know …?’

‘The coronation took place the Monday after the weekend when we … er, met.’

He gave her a little mocking smile and her cheeks flamed even more.

And then out of the tangle of emotions, indignation suddenly broke free and fuelled through her. How dared he laugh at her? It was all very well for him, perched there being all high and mighty. She was the one who was totally wrong-footed and struggling to get her head round what was happening. She had every right to be confused. And to demand some answers. ‘And you didn’t think to mention it?’

His eyebrows shot up at her sharp tone. ‘Why would I? We didn’t exactly stop to engage in small talk.’

Damn. That was true.

Matt tilted his head and shot her a quizzical glance. ‘Did you really not know who I was?’

Laura scowled at him. ‘I really didn’t.’

‘No, well,’ he said, lifting himself off the desk and moving to sit behind it, ‘I doubt the coronation was covered in Architecture Tomorrow:’ Like that was an excuse. ‘However if you remember I did suggest lunch, and if you hadn’t run off quite so speedily I might have mentioned it then.’

Laura’s eyes narrowed. Oh, he was clever. Turning it around so it was her fault. ‘I’d like to believe that, but somehow I don’t.’

Matt gave her a quick grin that curled her toes. ‘We’ll never know now, will we?’

Unfortunately not. ‘What were you doing in Little Somerford?’

‘Escaping the press.’

No wonder he’d flipped when he’d thought she was a journalist. He was gorgeous, young, rich and royal. A paparazzo’s dream. And she hadn’t had a clue. She really ought to broaden her reading horizons.

‘And you got me instead.’

‘Briefly.’ The grin faded and his mouth twisted.

Hmm. Laura bit back the urge to apologise. Any previous notion she might have had of apologising had long since disappeared beneath a blanket of confusion, indignation and something that felt suspiciously like hurt. ‘You sound peeved,’ she said coolly.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, the speed with which you fled wasn’t particularly flattering.’

A smidgeon of guilt elbowed its way through her indignation. Laura shrugged and ignored it. ‘We had a quickie. It was no big deal.’

His eyes glittered. ‘If it was no big deal why did you run?’

‘Like I told you at the time, I had plans.’

‘Right.’

He fixed her with a gaze that had her squirming in her chair until she couldn’t stand it any longer. So much for thinking she might have had the upper hand. Matt made one formidable opponent.

‘OK, fine,’ she said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. ‘I guess I panicked.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m not entirely sure,’ she said, forcing herself to look him in the eye. ‘It was kind of intense. For me, at least. I don’t know. Maybe for you it’s like that all the time.’

‘Not all the time,’ he muttered, looking less than thrilled by the admission.

At his obvious discomfort Laura suddenly relaxed. ‘It was kind of amazing, wasn’t it?’

‘Hmm.’

Matt regarded her thoughtfully and she bit her lip. It wasn’t his fault she’d been spooked. He didn’t know about the battle she’d had with herself. And now it seemed that fate had decided they were going to have to work together. Unless she cleared the air the tension that simmered between them would soon reach an unbearable level. ‘I’m sorry I rushed off like that.’

He shrugged. ‘It really doesn’t matter. I put it out of my mind weeks ago.’

‘Oh,’ she said, stamping down on the perverse disappointment that he could dismiss it quite so easily. ‘Well, that’s good, seeing as we’re going to be working together.’

Matt’s gaze jerked to hers and his eyebrows shot up. ‘You don’t really think you can stay, do you?’

Laura went very still and felt her face pale. ‘What do you mean?’

He leaned forwards and clasped his hands on the desk. ‘I appreciate the fact that you’ve been given the job, and I realise there’s nothing I can do contractually, but in the light of our recent history don’t you think it would be wise if you refused?’

What? Refuse? He wanted her to give up the job she so badly needed? Over her dead body. Sticking her chin up, she fixed him with a firm stare. ‘No.’

For a second there was a stunned silence. Matt looked as if she’d slapped him. Clearly no one had ever said no to him before. Well, that was tough, thought Laura, folding her arms over her chest and crossing her legs. Her days of endless people pleasing, of always acquiescing, were over.

‘No?’

‘Absolutely not,’ she added, setting her jaw and glaring at him just in case he still didn’t get the message. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

Matt’s brows snapped together and he shoved a hand through his hair. ‘There’s a conflict of interest,’ he said tightly.

‘Then you leave.’

‘Don’t be absurd.’

‘I’m not the one being absurd,’ she said coolly. ‘Yes, I agree that the situation is far from ideal but I want this job. And you need an architect. The palace is falling apart and bullet holes are so last century.’

His jaw tightened. ‘I don’t mix business with pleasure.’

‘Neither do I,’ she fired back. ‘Believe me, the last thing I’m looking for is a repeat of that afternoon.

‘Nor am I.’

‘Then I really don’t see that there’s anything to worry about.’

‘Don’t you?’ he said, dropping his gaze and letting it slide over her body.

Heat began to pour over her. Desire flared to life but she banked it down. Right now her work was more important than anything else. She was not going to let it go. For anything.

‘I,’ she said pointedly, ‘am perfectly capable of separating business and pleasure. I,’ she added, ‘should be able to control myself. Besides there is nothing you can do to make me go.’

His gaze dropped to her mouth and stayed there. His face darkened, his eyes took on a wicked gleam and Laura swallowed. Her heart lurched and a ball of nerves lodged in her throat. OK, so for all her fine words if Matt jumped to his feet, stalked round his desk, hauled her into his arms and kissed her she’d probably be through the door in seconds. But after loftily declaring that he didn’t mix business with pleasure she had to hope he wouldn’t put her to the test.

But why was he so desperate to get rid of her? Anyone would think she’d been stalking him. And what was all that hostility about? Surely he couldn’t be that annoyed she’d run off?

‘Look,’ she said, ‘you must be busy and the palace is huge. Our paths need never cross.’ Thankfully.

Matt sighed, got to his feet and gave her one last glower before picking up his laptop. ‘Just make sure you stay out of my way.’