Читать книгу Brides, Babies And Billionaires - Мишель Смарт, Rebecca Winters - Страница 61

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

HER HEARTBEAT SPIKED. His tone was light but his eyes were grave, his lips firm and unsmiling. She couldn’t have replied to save her life, and ached to have him add he meant it.

‘Got room for more?’ Clair came down the steps carrying a huge bunch of flowers. ‘Duncan’s bringing the fruit we promised.’

Lauren pressed her hands together, her index fingertips on her lips. How had she ever been daunted by this considerate, generous couple?

‘They’re beautiful, Clair. Thank you for a wonderful weekend. It’s been unforgettable.’

She recognised roses and tiger lilies, others were unknown. When she reached up to kiss Clair’s cheek as she accepted the stunning gift, she was drawn into an unexpected motherly hug.

‘You’ll always be welcome, Lauren,’ Clair said, and gave her an extra squeeze.

‘Even when she hasn’t stuffed up on her computer.’ Duncan laughed as he appeared behind her with a big cardboard box. ‘Should last you a few days,’ he added, handing it to Matt.

Lauren buried her face into the blooms and inhaled their perfume before placing them on the back seat alongside her overnight bag. Gently touched the petals, blinking back tears at the Fords’ kindness.

She noticed Matt and Clair in close conversation, serious expressions on their faces. Was he also being given friendly advice? She walked over to Duncan to thank him and was pulled into a friendly embrace.

‘I’ll be eternally grateful to you for helping Clair and boosting her esteem. Other technicians made her feel inadequate though she hid it well.’

‘It wasn’t much compared to your company and hospitality. I’ve loved every moment.’

‘Then come again—plan for a holiday in the spring or in December. Despite the heat, we always have a festive season, including long evening walks followed by hot or cold drinks on the veranda.’

‘It sounds inviting.’

‘Then be here.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Pity you’re based in Sydney. It’s such a long way away.’

The farewells lasted another ten minutes and included more hugs for Lauren as if they feared they wouldn’t see her for a long time. Finally they were on the road, and she let her head fall back and closed her eyes.

‘Tired, darling?’

Every cell in her body sprang to high alert at his endearment, the second time he’d used it. Was it an automatic name for the women he made love to?

‘A little. It’s been a full weekend.’

‘Any regrets, Lauren?’ Low, and slightly hesitant. Not like him at all.

‘None, Matt.’ She paused and grinned. ‘Well, maybe the purchase of a T-shirt depicting a joey in its mother’s pouch, waving an Australian flag. I’ll give it to a friend with quirky taste.’

Matt chuckled. His mood lifted. The idea he’d been contemplating was the best option for both of them. All he had to do was find the words to convince her. In his usual competent way, he rehearsed the phrasing, while negotiating the bends and merging onto the freeway. Lauren was lost in her own thoughts.

Satisfied he was ready, he glanced across and forgot it all in a rush of affection when he saw her lovely features relaxed in peaceful sleep. He faced the road again, tightening his grip on the wheel to conquer the urge to caress her cheek.

He had the rest of the day for gentle persuasion. If she agreed they’d spend all their free time together for the two weeks she had left. Fourteen days, and he’d count down every one.

Moving into the left lane, he slowed down. There was no urgency, Lauren was peaceful and the hectic uncertainty had eased from his life. He didn’t know exactly what he faced legally but he’d been totally honest and had good representation. He had no idea how bad the backlash might be if, more like when, his father’s duplicity became public but was assured of Duncan’s full support.

He had faith in his own ability to reform the company and keep it viable. And—he shot an affectionate look at his sleeping passenger—he had Lauren. Sweet, adorable Lauren, who hijacked his thoughts at inopportune moments and flipped his heart with a wisp of a smile. She even had him questioning his steadfast beliefs.

A semi-trailer whooshed past in the next lane, too close, causing him to veer to the left. Lauren stirred and stretched her back, blinked and gave him an apologetic smile.

‘I fell asleep.’

‘I noticed. Sweet dreams?’

‘I can’t remember. Why?’

‘You sighed a couple of times, low and contented. Cancel the hotel booking, Lauren. Stay with me.’ Blunt and rushed—not as he’d practised. ‘Sorry, I had a persuasive speech planned. Logical reasons to...’

He stopped midsentence as she silently bent, took her mobile from her bag and scrolled for the number. He shook his head to clear his muddled brain and closed his open mouth. Elation zapped along his veins. She’d be there to welcome him in the evenings. They’d have quiet hours to talk and long nights to hold each other.

‘Done. I can do one-day trips to the southern area or the hills.’ She dropped her phone into the drinks holder.

They were approaching the turn-off sign and he checked his rear-vision mirror in preparation for switching lanes. Pulling up at the lights, he covered her hand and revelled in the heat surge that simple act generated.

‘And be home for dinner?’

‘Oh, if you’re expecting meals like Clair served us, you’ll be disappointed. I’m very basic, usually cook for one or have cold meat and salad.’

‘You’ve seen my fridge. It’s been takeaway or dine out since I arrived home. We’ll improvise as we go. I have dinner with my parents on Mondays and call in after work whenever I can.’

‘They need your support so that mustn’t change. And you can’t neglect your sister’s family either.’

‘I won’t. They and Alan are the ones who’ve kept me grounded and sustained me through it all.’

‘You’re lucky to have them.’

He flicked her a quick glance. It was a genuine remark with no undertone of acrimony.

‘We never tried that pub near the unit. Wanna give it a go tonight?’

* * *

Wednesday’s dinner was crumbed lamb chops and salad, followed by bakery fruit pie and carton custard. As basic as you could get. Lauren thanked the stars for the local butcher whose selection of ready-to-cook meals was superb and included helpful advice.

She’d revised her plans, exploring Adelaide suburbs and southern coastal areas on alternate days to limit the long drives. Today she’d been to the museum and art gallery in the city, tomorrow’s choice was the Fleurieu Peninsula’s historic towns.

Their evenings were casual yet special to her. They’d have a quick run of the taped news followed by lively discussions as they watched a favourite programme or two. The nights held mutually shared passion and deep, peaceful sleep.

They lived in the moment. The future was never discussed but she wondered if he thought about it as much as she did.

Anticipation thrummed through her at the sound of his car. Soon she’d have to learn to live without the tingles over her skin, the breathlessness and the tom-tom racing of her pulse.

‘Lauren.’ She loved his homecoming routine: the same raspy greeting, the same admiration in his midnight-blue eyes, and the deep loving kiss, lasting until the need for air broke them apart. Plus for her the same intense pang to her heart.

‘Mmm...’ He nuzzled her neck, then sniffed appreciatively. ‘Dinner smells almost as good as you. Let’s talk ’til it’s ready.’

What had happened? Bad news about his father’s actions or the company? Serious talking was for as they ate, then forgotten in the pleasures of the evening. The way he grasped her fingers as they sat on the sofa was different, and disturbed her. He was nervous.

‘What do you have planned for Friday?’

‘A tram ride and walk on the beach.’

‘Without me?’ His eyebrow quirk and sudden grin confused her even more.

‘Drive in with me, process the work I need done then go for your walk.’

‘And?’

He seemed loath to continue, his eyes dark and intense, trying to predict her reaction to his announcement.

‘I’ve got tickets for the Crows’ game in the evening.’

Relief had her sagging into the cushions. That was all? He didn’t want to upset her by leaving her alone for a few hours?

‘That fine, Matt. It’ll do you good to let off steam and I can amuse myself.’

Matt knew damn well she could, how self-reliant she was. While relishing the times she’d depended on him, he also loved her independent spirit. She’d admitted to rethinking her relationship with her family. Now he was hoping Friday’s outing would help her move on.

‘Two for Alan and his date and one for me.’ He paused, eyes on her face. ‘The fourth is for you.’

Her reaction was everything he’d hoped for. Wide eyes, gold specks sparkling. Red lips parted and inviting. Index finger pointing at his chest.

‘I told you I don’t attend matches, only watch bits when I’m visiting friends who have the television on. Take someone else.’

She was magnificent, head high, chin jutted and eyes that flashed defiance. He stored the memory and prepared to counter.

He caught her finger in one hand, and cupped her chin with the other, stroking the silken underside of her stubborn jaw. Inhaled deeply as her eyes softened in response to his action. He so wanted to let her off the hook but it was more important to have her exorcise this demon.

‘Lauren, you bound the whole concept of your perceived lack of parental attention with the sports your brothers played. Come and put it to the test. One game. Share a Crows win with me. Supper’s on Alan.’

She looked down, bit her lip, and made a flimsy attempt to free her hand. It took little effort for him to hold on. She finally peered up at him and tilted her head.

‘Do they still sell hot dogs?’

His heart swelled to bursting point. She was adorable.

‘As many as you want, darling.’ He pulled her into his arms and if the oven’s timer hadn’t rung, dinner would have been served a lot later.

* * *

Lauren liked Kaye at first sight when she arrived in the office with Alan and pizza. She was a trim, toned extrovert and an avid Crows fan, wearing all the club regalia and waving a beanie at a protesting Matt.

She also had a photo on her mobile screen showing a litter of squirming newborn puppies. A wriggling mixture of brown, white and black.

‘You promised to wear it for the rest of the year if I found a suitable puppy for your nephews. These are a cross breed of black Labrador and German shepherd. They’ll be gentle and protective, perfect for active children. You get first pick and they’ll be ready to take home in five or six weeks.’

‘They’re adorable. Are you going to let the boys choose?’ Lauren enthused, wishing she could have one too. Not practical with her profession or in an apartment.

‘Under supervision, otherwise we’ll end up with a car full,’ Matt insisted, jamming on the hat. He’d cleared his desk for the meal and, when the others went to fetch chairs from Lauren’s office, he muttered in her ear.

‘She cheated, made the deal when our forward was lining up for a winning goal, sixty metres out and less than a minute on the clock.’

‘If you agreed, it’s binding.’ She grinned at the usually stylishly dressed man—even in casual clothes on the weekend—now in well-worn jeans, football jumper and that distinctive beanie. And loved him even more.

‘You siding with Kaye?’ He gave her a hard, lip-smacking kiss. ‘I can think of a few bets I’d willingly lose to you.’

She recalled hours of sitting rugged up on cold benches, being bumped and bruised by excited supporters. She thought of days wasted setting up stalls, being bored and trying to persuade people to buy merchandise or raffle tickets. Now she looked into hungry blue eyes and knew she’d go through all of that in a thunderstorm if he were beside her.

* * *

Matt kept a tight hold on her hand as they walked to the stadium, joining an ever-growing throng that bottlenecked at the bridge over the river. He kept telling himself this was for her but that excuse was wearing thin. It was he who wanted to share his enthusiasm for their national game, who wanted to see her lose her inhibitions and cheer with the mob. It was he who wanted her with him when they played in the finals.

It was a full house by the time they bounced the ball for the start and the noise was deafening. For the first time ever his concentration wasn’t out there with the players. He watched Lauren, quite prepared to take her out if she became stressed. Instead he saw interest grow as her eyes darted from the field to the big screens and back.

His heart usually pounded at the fierce interaction between players, now it was because she leant forward as they ran, held her breath as they shot for goal and flopped back when they missed. By the fourth quarter, she was on her feet with Kaye every time the lead changed, face flushed and eyes shining. And he didn’t care an iota that he missed most of the action on the field.

‘A twenty-eight-point win. Our best this year.’ Kaye danced up the steps, arms swaying with her scarf held high. ‘You must be our lucky charm, Lauren.’

Matt hugged her close ‘You are definitely mine.’

Lauren clung to him, treasuring his words. The excitement had been contagious. Her head spun, whether from the buzz of the crowd or the shock of discovering the thrill of the game overrode her inhibitions, she wasn’t sure. As if tied to Kaye with invisible bonds, she’d found herself leaping to her feet and calling out phrases she’d never spoken, hadn’t known she’d memorised.

Matt was grinning as if he’d been the star forward. Not a smug, I-told-you-so smile; he was genuinely happy for her. Had she been wrong all her life or was she seeing everything through new eyes? And if she had changed because she loved him, why couldn’t he love her for the person he was helping her to become?

* * *

Monday afternoon Matt decided to grab a chicken wrap on the way back from the bank. Funny how easily he’d adapted to healthier meals and salads. Not funny that in a week he’d be eating alone again.

Lauren. His pulse hiked up, and he quickened his pace as he saw her opening the door of a café across the street. He halted when she spoke to the dark-haired woman entering behind her. She hadn’t mentioned meeting anyone.

By the time he’d crossed at the lights and walked along, they were seated at a table studying menus. An old friend she’d caught up with? He wouldn’t disturb them; she’d tell him over dinner tonight.

She didn’t. She was quiet and withdrawn, claiming fatigue and a headache. Concerned, he persuaded her to take a tablet and go to bed. In the morning he left her sleeping.

Tuesday was no different. She blamed it on the current autumn virus and he had to admit she looked unwell, though she didn’t cough or sneeze. Was she depressed thinking of the shrinking time they had left? That he understood.

He’d never considered a cross-country romance. There’d never been a reason to. The idea of seeing Lauren only on weekends was gut-wrenching but better than not being with her at all. Would she be prepared to try?

* * *

Alan’s text came through as he was driving to work Wednesday morning, and he read the short, concise message in the lift. Apprehensive, and with fingers tapping his desk, he accessed the online morning papers. The small article tucked away in one of the business sections sent his world crashing in flames.

Names weren’t mentioned but anyone with determination and knowledge of the company or his father could identify them. Obscure hints were made of illness, legalities and the long-term viability of the business. His temper rose as he researched the reporter, found her profile and photo.

And his fragile faith was obliterated in a torrent of bitterness, far worse than all the other betrayals combined. This was the woman Lauren had been with on Monday, the reason for her reticence since.

She was one of the very few who had knowledge of his father’s dementia and fraud. What reason could there be for meeting that woman? Why?

His chest heaved, and anger ruled as he reached for his keys. Threw them down, snatched up his mobile, and paced the floor until Lauren answered.

‘Matt?’

Diffident and wary. Guilty?

‘Who was the woman you were with on Monday?’ Grated out without polite niceties.

Her quick gasp sharpened his pain. Her silence exacerbated his temper.

‘She’s a damn reporter. What did you tell her?’

‘You...I’m...’

‘Lost for words, Lauren. What am I? A magnet for cheats and liars? Dad, Christine, and now you? Do you have any idea what I...? No, you wouldn’t. I can’t bear to see you. Don’t want to hear your voice.’

He hung up, tossed his phone on the coffee table and sank into a chair, burying his head into his hands. This was it. He’d never fully trust anyone again.