Читать книгу Brides, Babies And Billionaires - Мишель Смарт, Rebecca Winters - Страница 54

CHAPTER EIGHT

MATT WASN’T A teenager on his first date so why did his heart race, his chest feel tight? Why were his palms sweating? Escorting a colleague to a corporate dinner hardly qualified as a date anyway.

Quit fooling yourself, Matt Dalton. She’s not a colleague. She’s a beautiful woman you are attracted to. And it bugs you that she’s so wary of men like you.

He’d called her as the taxi was pulling into the hotel driveway, wanting to be there when she walked out of the lift. The look on her face as she’d agreed to stay on Thursday was imprinted in his brain.

It had been a mixture of fear and hopeful expectancy. If it wasn’t complete delight when he brought her home tonight, he’d deem himself a failure. His aims were to see her smile, hear her laugh. And to develop his bond with the Fords.

Cold and objective maybe, but he’d learned that love and happy-ever-afters were more advertising hype than reality. Tonight he’d forget business, relax and enjoy himself. Lauren would go home with happy memories rather than those of nights spent alone in a hotel room.

The lift came down twice while he paced the foyer. She’d said five minutes, four had passed so...

His jaw dropped, his heart pounded. He looked into big anxious hazel eyes and the resolution to keep the relationship casual and platonic shot into Netherland.

She was exquisite, captivating. Every red-blooded man’s dream. From her gleaming newly styled, honey-brown hair framing her lovely face, to her red-painted toes peeping out of strappy gold shoes. Her sunshine-yellow dress, which fell loosely to her ankles from under her enticing breasts, shimmered as she walked towards him. A double gold chain around her neck enhanced her smooth peach skin. And she had to be wearing higher heels because she barely had to tilt her head to meet his gobsmacked gaze.

He took both hands in his and held them out, felt her speeding pulse under his thumb, and had to clear his choked throat before he could speak.

‘Stunning. Lauren Taylor, you are enchanting.’

Her eyes misted. Her glossed lips—oh, he so wanted to kiss them right now—parted.

‘I am?’ She was genuinely surprised by his compliment. Didn’t her room have mirrors?

The lift beside them pinged and opened. As soon as the occupants left, he ushered her in, facing her towards the mirrored wall, and standing behind her.

‘Look at yourself, Lauren. You are gorgeous. I’ll be the envy of every male in the room.’

His first aim was achieved as she smiled at their reflections. A soft glow appeared in her eyes and grew until they sparkled, and all apprehension disappeared. His arms ached to wrap around her, and if they didn’t leave this instant he most definitely would claim a kiss.

* * *

After they’d buckled in their driver handed him the corsage he’d left on the front seat.

‘I chose this one without knowing what colours you’d be wearing. It seemed...well, you.’

‘It’s beautiful, perfect.’

He echoed her words in his head, not referring to the flower.

When she reached out to touch the delicately shaded orchid with its deep purple centre, he caught her hand and slipped it onto her wrist. Resisting the whim to press his lips to her pulse, he compensated by linking their fingers and keeping hold. He gave her the same advice he’d given himself.

‘Relax and enjoy the evening. It’s one of the biggest events of the year, all profits benefitting children’s charities.’

He felt her fingers twitch against his, saw the colour in her cheeks fade. But her eyes were clear and steady when they met his.

‘Big crowds are less daunting than smaller ones. They’re easier to hide in.’

A puzzling remark that intrigued him. Why wouldn’t she want to be seen?

‘No hiding tonight. Not that you could looking the way you do. Duncan arranged our tickets, and the other two couples at our table are friends of theirs so you’ll be in good company. I’ll stay as close as I can and make sure you’re never alone.

Which was going to be a pleasant task, not difficult at all.

Matt being close might well be her biggest problem, Lauren thought, floating on air from his compliments. He wore formal wear with an innate ease. Had he been so elegant when he’d kissed her years ago? She could only remember those devastating startled blue eyes.

As the taxi joined the line-up waiting to discharge their passengers, she craned her neck to watch them heading for the entrance. These were the elite, the rich and influential, and the corporate climbers—a mingling horde of people eager to see and be seen by their peers. Unlike her, they’d be at ease with each other or skilled at hiding any nerves.

‘Lauren?’ She turned her head to find Matt regarding her with a pained expression.

‘I’ll need that hand to eat dinner.’

With a gasp she realised how tightly she was gripping his fingers, and let go.

‘I’m so sorry. Does it hurt?’ Mortification stung her cheeks.

He gave a low chuckle and wriggled his fingers. ‘My friends will say any damage can only improve my guitar playing.’

The car inched forward, stopped and a uniformed man opened Matt’s door. She sidled across as he alighted and offered her the hand she’d squeezed. She felt his strength as she allowed him to help her, felt hot tingles race along her veins as he drew her closer for protection in the throng.

* * *

The foyer was a kaleidoscope of colours, bold and lurid, pastel and muted, interspersed with the stark black of tuxedos. The overhead lights glistened off the dazzling displays of precious gems adorning necks, wrists, and fingers, hanging from ears and even woven into elaborate hairdos.

Being part of the excitement was worth the initial sick feeling in her stomach, the harsh dryness of her throat. Matt pressed her to his side in his efforts to manoeuvre them to the designated meeting point with the Fords, and the adrenaline rush was intoxicating.

Even he seemed surprised by the number of people who greeted him and held them up. So many inquired if his parents were attending. Others asked when he’d arrived in Adelaide, how long he was staying, and when they could catch up.

They declined drinks until they’d joined their hosts, Matt selecting a white wine and Lauren a soft drink. Duncan introduced them to a middle-aged couple then, when the men began to discuss today’s games, Clair drew the two women aside and grinned at Lauren.

‘And at these occasions they talk sport.’ She turned to the other woman. ‘Lauren’s a computer expert and I’m—’

‘A danger to any active program,’ the woman cut in playfully.

They laughed and Lauren noticed Matt’s short nod of approval in her direction. She’d also felt the reluctance with which he’d released her hand. Or was she reading too much into his protective mode?

The doors to the dining area opened and they were asked to locate their seats. As she began to follow Clair, Matt appeared beside her, drawing her close.

‘This is incredible,’ she whispered, admiring the ornate decorations on the uncountable number of tables.

The dimmed lights gave everything a magical feel, coloured spotlights played across the room, randomly picking out guests for a second or two then moving on. Classical music was supplied by a string quartet on stage, and along the backdrop hung brightly coloured banners bearing the names of sponsors and the charities that would benefit.

Matt guided her to her seat at a table near the front and sat alongside. Duncan and Clair were on her left. She swung her head, determined to memorise every detail, and shared a menu with Matt as bread rolls and wine were being served.

‘Main course is served alternately, chicken or steak. If you’d prefer what I’m given, we can swap. The other courses are set.’

‘Thank you. I’m not keen on steak unless it’s well done.’

‘Good evening everyone.’ A deep voice boomed through the sound system urging latecomers to take their seats so the caterers could begin serving entrees. The welcoming thank-you speech was short and amusing, and the quiet music during the meal allowed over-the-table conversation.

Matt and Duncan made sure Lauren was included and she felt at ease enough to join in. Not often and not unless she was sure of the subject but it felt good. Except when Duncan asked if she had siblings. Giving a quick glance to check Matt wasn’t listening, she admitted to three brothers, found herself telling him they were all professionals, two footballers and one cricketer. He seemed impressed, wanted more detail. To her their jobs were no different from hers, his, or any other person’s.

As the waiters cleared the dinner plates, people began to move around the room, stopping in small groups to talk or wander out into the foyer. Band gear was set up on the stage and the group began to play a slow ballad.

There was a trickle of couples at first then more and more until the floor was crowded. No room for any more, she thought with relief.

‘Dance with me, Lauren.’ Matt’s eyes gleamed, his breath tickled her ear, and his hand on her bare shoulder evoked a quivering in her stomach that had nothing to do with nerves.

‘You promised no pressure.’

‘True. If you refuse I won’t push. But I’ll be disappointed, and regret not having even one dance with you.’

Oh, so smooth. No wonder he’d won the Fords over and, according to Joanne, been very successful in England. She’d regret it too; the difference was she’d always remember.

She stood, and accepted the hand he offered. ‘Do you always win?’

‘The important battles, yes.’ The victorious sparkle in midnight-blue eyes proved he believed this counted with those.

He led her onto the dance floor, and slipped his arm around her waist, enclosing her hand in his over his heart. Her legs trembled and her head clamoured for her to cut and run. Her heart leant into him, taking her body along.

Matt had planned his move. The packed floor gave him the excuse to hold her nearer, move slower. Her body aligned with his perfectly, she followed his steps with ease, and her perfume—or her—stirred feelings he’d been denying all week.

Somehow in the last two days the anger he’d carried for weeks had begun to dissipate. Tonight the pain of betrayal had been replaced by an unfamiliar emotion. It took him a few minutes to recognise the alien feeling as contentment, and a little longer to realise that his thumb was caressing her fingers.

The music stopped, and as other couples split to applaud the band they stayed together, his eyes on her face as she looked towards the stage. She was happier and more relaxed than he’d ever seen her. Suddenly however long she’d be here was too short.

‘Lauren.’

Bright hazel eyes met his, her lips parted, and only the first few notes of a classic seventies heartbreaker stopped him from kissing her there and then. The couple behind nudged her and he automatically pressed her closer for protection. Her head nestled on his shoulder, his cheek brushed her hair. And he wanted the music to last for ever.

It didn’t of course. The singer announced desserts and coffee were being served, and the band was taking a break. He escorted her back to the table, pleased she seemed as reluctant as he was.

‘Duncan’s gone walkabout,’ Clair said, moving along next to Lauren, beckoning her female companion to join them. ‘Are you planning to network too, Matt?’

He ought to, it was the sensible thing to do, the best action for the company. Their desserts arrived, and he grinned and took his seat.

‘And miss double chocolate gateau with strawberries and cream. Maybe after.’

‘Have Duncan’s too, if you like. I’m watching his weight,’ Clair offered.

‘You want double delight, Lauren?’ he teased and was rewarded with a rosy blush.

‘I’m not sure I can handle what’s in front of me,’ she countered without breaking eye contact and his heart leapt into his mouth. Heat flared in the pit of his stomach, and his fingers itched to reach for her and...

‘Coffee for anyone?’ A waiter held up cups and saucers on the other side of the table.

Yeah, black and strong for me to drown in. And is that a tiny smirk on her face?

If they were alone he’d be kissing it off in an instant.

‘I’ll take one, thanks.’ Duncan loomed up behind Matt and sat down. ‘After that, and the dessert I’m going to be scalded for eating all weekend, I want you to meet a trusted friend of mine, Matt. If we decide to proceed with the bigger project an extra investor might be welcome.’

Matt glanced at Lauren.

‘You go. I’ll be fine.’

She was. Too much so. Catching up with business acquaintances and meeting new contacts should have been a pleasure but his mind was on Lauren, and how long he’d been away. He’d left her talking to Clair and her friend. When he returned she was in deep conversation with a blond-headed man who, in his opinion, was leaning too close.

His gut hardened, his jaw clenched and he strode over to where the two of them sat alone.

‘Sorry I’ve been so long, Lauren.’ Not much regret in his tone.

They turned, and the man rose to his feet, extending his hand.

‘Matt Dalton, isn’t it? I’m sure I played high-school footy against you a few times. I’m John Collins, a friend of Lauren’s brother. Haven’t seen her for five or six years so this was a pleasant surprise.’

Matt’s irritation abated and he accepted the greeting.

‘Your face is familiar though I can’t remember the name. Too many over the years.’

‘Yeah, I know.’ John glanced at his watch. ‘I’d better go find my wife and say our goodbyes. My mother-in-law’s babysitting. Great catching up with you both.’

‘Where is everyone?’ Matt asked as soon as he’d gone, shaking off his discomfort. An old friend of the brother’s. Married and bending close, as he was now, because of the constant hum of voices combined with the now louder and upbeat music.

‘Out there having fun.’ Lauren laughed and pointed at the dance floor.

It was hard to tell who was partnering who as arms were waving, bodies writhing and legs kicking, stomping and twisting. Clair was easily spotted in her bright red dress, grinning and waving as she recognised friends. Duncan, now coatless, followed no rhythm but his enjoyment was clear.

‘Let’s join them.’

She demurred.

‘Look at them, Lauren. No rules. No cares.’ He seized her wrists, lifting her to her feet. ‘Come on.’

She’d shrunk. He looked down at her stockinged feet. Felt the grin spread across his face.

She grinned back. ‘My new shoes started to pinch. Besides, I can hardly dance like that in those heels.’

‘Not without spiking someone, probably me. Hang on while I ditch my coat.’

This was the best and the worst idea he’d had all night. The way Lauren’s body synchronised with the rhythm created havoc in his. Her dress outlined shimmering hips as she swayed. Her lustrous hair brushed her shoulders as she swung her head and her skin glowed under the spotlights. Even watching her delicate energetic feet with their red tips gave him a warm glow.

Completely in the moment she’d let go of whatever cares she had, given herself to the magic of the music, and was in a world of her own. A world he wanted to be part of for as long as possible. He tasted bile in his mouth at the thought of her leaving, swallowed it down. Emotion-inspired happy-ever-afters were a myth.

‘Last dance, ladies and gentlemen. Slow or fast?’

Couples were already coming together, calling out ‘slow’ and drowning the requests for fast. A few left the floor. Lauren’s eyes shone as he stepped closer. She didn’t resist at his pressing her head to his shoulder. She was smaller without her heels, making him feel more macho, more protective. He caressed her back, drawing her tightly against him, and swor0e00 he heard a contented sigh.

* * *

Lauren sighed again as the taxi eased into traffic. This was an enchanted evening. A night to cherish always, for so many reasons. The man responsible for those unforgettable memories shifted across the seat, put his arm around her, and nestled her into his side.

‘Glad you came, Lauren?’

His voice was low, gruff, his breath tickled her ear. She turned, put her hand on his chest, and wished she could snuggle into him and fall asleep. Any dreams she had tonight would surely be pleasurable.

‘Mmm, it was wonderful. I didn’t want it to end.’

‘It hasn’t yet.’

Her fingers curled, her heart chilled and she stopped breathing. He didn’t think, wouldn’t expect... No. That wasn’t the man she...could she possibly learn the true man within less than two weeks, four days of which were spent apart?

‘We have the drive home and I’ll ask the cab to wait while I escort you to your room.’

‘There’s no need.’ Her words came out in a rush of air.

‘My pleasure. Would you like to hear the compliments Duncan paid you?’

‘He and Clair are nice, so easy to talk to though she made a few enigmatic remarks during the evening, and asked twice how long I’d be here. Said she’d like to meet for lunch before I go. Oh.’

She gasped as he suddenly squeezed her as if annoyed at her remark.

‘Don’t think about leaving yet. Don’t think about anything but tonight. Did I mention you were the most beautiful woman in the room?’

She smiled up at him. He was smooth and charming, handsome as hell and his midnight-blue eyes glowed with an intensity she’d never seen. Ever. From anyone.

‘Once or a dozen times. Thank you for everything.’

He tapped the folder under her clutch bag on the seat. ‘And you have the photos.’

‘They’re mine?’

‘All yours.’

So he didn’t want any reminders. She’d behaved as he’d asked, been a helpful social partner, and he was simply grateful. But in the end she was just the skilled technician hired to fix his system. A chill settled over her. The gloss faded. The evening was tainted.

A few moments ago she’d been elated, not wanting the evening to end. With two simple words, he’d burst her blissful bubble. She felt tired, numb... She wished she were alone, yet contrarily didn’t want to leave the warm haven of his arms.