Читать книгу Brides, Babies And Billionaires - Мишель Смарт, Rebecca Winters - Страница 56
ОглавлениеMATT DIDN’T WANT to be sitting in his parents’ dining room that night pretending nothing had changed. His head ached from all the legal jargon, the implications of what might or might not happen, and from reading some of the complex forms and documents he’d been given. And the processes had only just started.
It had taken supreme effort to keep focused and not picture Lauren alone in her office or Joanne’s. Or ponder on dinner tomorrow. No disruptions, no phone calls with both mobiles on silent. Quiet time for conversation.
It’s more than talk you want.
‘Matthew?’
‘Sorry, Mum. Miles away. It’s been a long day.’
‘This is all taking a toll on you. I wish I’d acted sooner, but Marcus kept assuring me he was just tired and overworking.’
‘It’s okay, Mum. I’ve got good help and everything’s coming together.’
Though there’s a fair chance it might implode in my face.
‘His mood swings are more frequent, and persuasion doesn’t work as well as it did. Today he became angry when I suggested he shouldn’t go for a walk alone.’
His jaw tightened, and he glared at his father, nonchalantly eating his meal. He softened his features as he asked, ‘When’s his next appointment with the doctor? I’ll make sure I’m available and then we’ll have a family meeting.’
‘I want to keep him at home as long as possible. Please, Matthew.’
He reached across to cover her hand with his.
‘For as long as possible, Mum. We can arrange for day help and, if necessary, I’ll move in.’
His gut churned at the thought of living here again, in the house where his naive adulation of his father had been shattered, and his admiration for his mother diminished in a single stroke. Where he’d discovered human weakness could overrule honour, and betrayal could be overlooked if it meant the continuation of a preferred lifestyle.
His honour dictated he had no choice. His heart demanded he call into his sister’s on the way home to spend time with a truly happy couple. And to kiss his nephews as they slept.
* * *
Crouched behind the desk in Reception, Lauren almost missed Matt’s arrival at five past two the following day. Checking the stationery, she sprang upright at the faint hint of sea-spray aroma.
‘Matt.’ Instinctive. Spontaneous.
As natural as the smile he gave her. He looked frazzled and energised at the same time, jacket slung over his shoulder and sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular arms covered with fine dark hair. One glance at finger-ruffled hair and blue crinkled eyes, and her senses sprang to attention.
‘Hi, how’s it going? Come and tell me over coffee. With normal everyday words.’
‘Joanne’s run out of work to give me.’ She straightened the desk phone as she glanced up, and met narrowed eyes and a scowl.
By the time she come round to his side, they’d gone. He patted his satchel as they walked to his office. ‘And I’ll be occupied for days. How’s your legalese?’
‘My what?’
‘Legal mumbo jumbo. Guaranteed to cause headaches or a craving for alcohol.’
She laughed. ‘Sorry, all I know is the few foreign phrases I learnt from friends at uni. Unless it’s cyber-speak.’
‘Might just as well be for me. So what time are you finishing?’
‘Ten minutes and I’m all done.’ She swallowed, glad he wasn’t looking at her. Thankful he couldn’t see her disappointment.
His brow creased again as he held the door open for her, not moving aside, ensuring she brushed against him as she passed. He dumped his satchel on his chair, draped his coat over the back, and scraped his fingers into his hair. When he spoke she swore there was a catch in his voice, growing more pronounced towards the end.
‘You’re not going home?’
She shook her head. ‘I promised I’d stay.’
‘You’re one of the few people aware of the full situation and I trust you. We’ll find something for you to do.’
He trusted her. Her heart soared and dipped, raced for a moment then blipped. She couldn’t deny she had continuing issues with where he’d come from, the class he associated with.
‘You don’t have to. I decided last week to spend my promised fortnight vacation being a tourist in South Australia.’
His face cleared and he caught her hands in his, skittled her breathing with his beaming smile.
‘Two weeks, huh? That’s good. Can you fit any work I need done between trips?’
‘If I’m needed.’
‘You are—very much.’ His intense appraisal was unnerving, as if commanding she hide nothing from him. His undisguised admiration made her insides glow, yet roused a prickling unease on her nape.
‘Is there a special dress code for tonight?’
‘Neat casual. Whatever you feel comfortable in.’
Your arms.
Thankfully thought and for once not voiced. She cursed her seesawing responses.
‘I’ll call when I leave here and pick you up.’
‘I’ll be ready.’
* * *
She was sitting on a bench near the revolving doors two minutes after he phoned. It gave her a clear view of the curved driveway and the road beyond the garden bed. Her fingers tapped on her right thigh and she clasped them with her left hand.
It was just another dinner in a public place, nothing to make her nervous. Unless you counted the confident, charismatic male striding, head high, on the opposite side of the road. At twenty-six, she really ought to be able to control these sudden spikes in her pulse and these inexcusable urges to run to meet him.
She went to the kerb, keeping track of him between passing vehicles. He stopped when he noticed her, his smile easily visible at this distance, and beckoned her to come across. Took her arm as she reached his side.
‘Hi, has anyone ever told you that you are remarkably punctual?’
‘For a woman?’ She tilted her head, and raised her eyebrows. Relished the pleasurable quiver in her stomach as he laughed.
‘For a human. The car’s not far.’
He didn’t speak during the short walk, obviously preoccupied. Lauren was all too aware of his guiding touch on her arm. Warm and protective.
The lights flashed to unlock his car but he didn’t open the door. He leant on it instead, placing his hands on her waist. He looked at the grass under their feet and exhaled.
‘When I said dinner, I meant takeaway or home delivery to the unit I’m renting. You and me. No phones, no demands from anyone. No distractions. I should have been explicit. If you’d prefer, there’s a local hotel with good food and friendly atmosphere.’
His preference matched hers. No noisy chatter or waiters hovering to serve, clear dishes or top up glasses.
‘Do I get to choose what we pick up?’
She hadn’t realised how tense he was until his shoulders dropped.
‘Food, wine and anything else you want.’ He moved aside, allowing her to get into the car. ‘You amaze me almost every day, Lauren Taylor.’
* * *
Lauren was the one surprised as she entered the modern single-storey town house not far from the city. He’d driven into the garage, led her through the door into a laundry and then along a hallway into one of the most sparsely furnished rooms she’d ever seen.
There was a long soft leather lounge, a coffee table and a television on a wooden cupboard. No rugs, no cushions. No books, ornaments or pictures.
She appreciated he was renting, and had been working long hours under extreme pressure, but...
Matt’s eyes followed her astonished gaze, and for the first time he saw his home as it was. He’d bought the barest necessities, hadn’t been planning on long term or entertaining.
He shrugged and gave a rueful grin.
‘Not exactly home beautiful, but I don’t spend a lot of time here.’
‘Are the other rooms the same?’
Leaving the Thai food and bottle of white wine on the table, he held out his hand.
‘Guided tour included with the meal. Any constructive opinions welcome.’
She didn’t say a word as he pushed open doors to reveal a desk and office chair in one room, suitcases and boxes in another, the bathroom, and finally the main bedroom.
It contained bedside drawers and a rumpled king-sized bed, which dominated the space but he never slept well in anything smaller. Since moving in he’d crashed every night into deep, unbroken sleep, including a few times in the lounge. Except for the last two nights, and his restlessness was evident from the unmade bed.
His senses were on super alert, tuned for her slightest reaction. He heard the faint intake of breath, saw her shoulders twitch and the convulsive movement in her throat.
Berating himself for his insensitivity, he drew her away, and pulled the door shut behind them, praying she didn’t think he had an ulterior motive bringing her here. He couldn’t ignore the picture that had flashed into his head as he’d looked from his bed to Lauren, or its effect on his body.
‘I signed the lease in the morning, made the saleswoman’s day in the afternoon, and moved in two days later,’ he said, hoping to distract her as he took her to the kitchen area.
‘No dining setting?’
‘Not yet. The only person who visits is Alan, and we eat while we watch TV, usually the footy.’
She winced and he remembered her outburst yesterday morning. She hadn’t exaggerated her dislike of sport. Tonight he was determined to find out why.
‘We’d better eat before the food goes cold. Plates are in the corner cupboard. I’ll bring the glasses and cutlery.’
Clicking on the TV, he scrolled to the relaxing music channel, keeping the volume low. He sat, giving her space, and opened the Riesling, poured a glass and slid it in front of her.
‘Thank you. I’m guessing you like leftovers, from the amount of food you bought.’
‘It’ll taste as good tomorrow.’ He lifted his glass in salute. ‘To you, Lauren. You have my eternal gratitude for everything you achieved.’
She tapped her glass to his. ‘Even with all the angst it’s going to cause you?’
‘Hard facts can be dealt with. The uncertainty is what fuels suspicion and creates tension. I’ll be guided by the professionals and handle any repercussions.’
Lauren savoured the tang of the sweet and sour pork, and the mellow taste of the wine, but found the depth of the settee uncomfortable. It was built for taller people or for curling up on. A few thick cushions would solve the problem.
She put her plate on the table, slid onto the floor, and folded her legs.
‘Can we pull this closer so I can lean against the sofa? I don’t have your long limbs.’
He complied immediately. ‘I’m not rating too well, am I? I’m all set up for myself, didn’t expect to have visitors very often if at all.’
Then why that huge bed, looking as if there’d been plenty of action there last night? Did he have similar expectations tonight?
She choked on a piece of pineapple, took a soothing drink of wine, letting it glide down her throat. He’d said only Alan visited and she had no reason to dispute his word.
‘Are you all right?’
No, but admitting it might start a conversation she wasn’t ready for, probably never would be.
‘I’m fine. This is delicious.’
‘Hmm.’ He relaxed, elbow on the leather arm, his legs stretched out with one ankle over the other. Looking as hassle-free as a newborn baby.
Unlike her. Sitting down here might be easier on her spine but now he was only in her peripheral vision and other senses heightened. She became aware of muted sounds as he shifted or flexed muscle against the leather, and his ocean aroma teased her nostrils, overriding the piquant sauces of their meal. Occasionally his foot twitched.
The companionable silence stretched, the music soothed. She picked up her glass and sipped, letting her mind drift to a gentle touch, a guiding hand. A bewitching dance she’d never forget.
She turned her head, and caught him watching her, his lips curled, his dark eyes gleaming with unconcealed desire. He blinked and it vanished. Or had it been a reflection of her own?
‘Full?’
She could only nod, her throat too clogged to form words. He wanted to talk; she’d prefer to delay it any way possible. If he wanted her history, dared she ask for his? Wouldn’t it be better to have only memories of their time together untainted by his past?
The dishwasher was stacked, the food containers stored in the refrigerator. Lauren curled up in the corner of the settee cradling the remnants of her drink.
‘Top up?’ Matt waved the bottle in front of her.
Why not? She’d make it last ’til the end of the evening.
He half-filled hers, gave himself more then took the remainder to the fridge. Settling at the far end, he twisted towards her, one ankle balanced on the other knee. His arm lay along the back of the lounge, forming a perfect angle with his body for someone to snuggle into.
She stifled the sigh that threatened as she remembered the firm warmth of him, and the way her head rested cosily on his shoulder during the slow dances. A quick self-rebuke, a sip of wine and she met his gaze with a bravado her internal fortitude didn’t match.
‘So you didn’t inherit the sporting gene like your brothers?’ A coaxing tone, probably developed with his nephews, with an edge that said he wouldn’t give up until he’d learned all he wanted to know.
‘I was uncoordinated, couldn’t catch, throw or jump and had no interest in being coached to improve. Lately I’ve been wondering if I was the one who withdrew from my family rather than it being them who ignored my interests.’
‘Maybe lack of compromise on both sides.’
‘I believed I didn’t count so I stopped attending anything sporty and made a life on my own.’
He scooted along the cushions, stopping inches from her knees. His fingers caressed her neck and tangled into her hair.
‘You count, Lauren, in every way that matters.’
‘I know that now, just not sure how much with them.’
She suddenly hit him, flat-handed over his heart, making him jerk away.
‘Admit it, Matt Dalton, you were one of those guys like my brothers, who assumed being athletic made you better than those who weren’t. And more deserving of attention from girls.’
Matt’s fingers stilled, his stomach clenched. She’d nailed him. Major benefits of being in the school’s A-grade had been the accolades, the admiration of lesser-gifted pupils. The chicks he could take his pick from.
Hell, that sounded egotistical.
‘And I’ll bet you barely noticed anyone who wasn’t beautiful, confident and out there.’ Her jaw lifted and one finger tapped on his chest. Her hazel eyes flashed with challenge.
‘Ah, but I did.’ He grinned at her defiance. ‘I was nineteen, surrounded by adoring girls yet I followed a shy, unknown escapee into the dark and kissed her. She ran and I ended up going home alone because I couldn’t find her again.’
‘You didn’t?’
She doubted his word. Understandable maybe but it irked. He prided himself on his honesty. Taking her drink, he plonked it on the table heedless of the splashing droplets. He bent forward, splaying his hand on the lounge arm, enclosing her and forcing her to lean away.
‘You don’t believe me? How can I persuade you it’s true?’
‘You can’t.’ Proud and playfully stated.
She had no idea how provocative she looked arched over the armrest, enticing full lips parted and bold eyes sparking.
Or did she? The tapping stopped. Pity, he’d liked it from her. She sucked in a deep breath, her head tilted and wariness drove defiance from bright hazel.
Ashamed of his brash behaviour, he shifted but kept within reach. Picking up the glasses and holding hers out, he noticed the motion of the wine. From his trembling. He drained the remainder of his, shaken by his reaction.
‘Forgive me. I said tonight was for talking. I won’t make that promise for the future though. There’s something between us, Lauren, something too strong to ignore.’
‘It’ll pass. There’ll be other women in your life.’
‘You’re the only one now. It’s you I want.’
Her head swung from side to side in slow motion as if that would change his statement. He halted the movement by cupping her chin.
‘I don’t lie, Lauren. And I can wait until you’re ready to admit it too. In the meantime, we could call Alan, who’ll confirm my story. I shared a cab with him and his date.’
She flicked him a half-smile. ‘No phones tonight, remember.’
Almost an admission she believed him. He feigned an affronted air.
‘You questioned my word. I deem that an emergency.’
Her instant laughter hit a spot deep inside, denting the armour he’d placed around his heart. Scaring the hell out of him. He’d sworn never to be vulnerable again.
‘So why Sydney?’ Out of the blue to give him recovery time.
‘I was offered a challenging position interstate from Melbourne.’
‘A long way from your family.’
‘I didn’t disown them. I keep in touch, visit reasonably regularly, and always see them when they come to Sydney for a sporting fixture.’ She spoke defensively as if she’d heard censure in his voice.
‘Which you don’t attend.’
‘No. They seem to have accepted I’m different. I’m hoping they give this new consideration to their grandchildren.’
‘My eldest nephew loves anything involving kicking or hitting a ball, the younger one can take or leave it. We’re trying to keep it all fun for as long as possible.’
‘There’s only the two?’
‘Alex and Drew.’ He recalled Lena’s expression when she’d told him she was pregnant, felt the same rush of affection he’d had then. ‘Lena and Mark would love a little girl as well.’
‘I wish them success. What did you do in London?’
