‘Forget it. It won’t work,’ Georgina told him bluntly.
Matias frowned, his brooding dark eyes betraying the puzzlement of someone trying to join dots that weren’t quite forming a pattern.
‘Then what will?’ he asked, with an elaborate show of patience that got on her nerves.
‘You’ll probably need something stiffer than a glass of expensive white wine before I tell you my solution.’
‘Spit it out. I can’t bear the suspense.’
‘I may have told her a couple of tiny white lies...’ Georgina stuck out her chin at a pugnacious angle—an angle that said that she was a woman about to dig her heels in and was ready for a fight if he wanted to have one.
Now that they were getting to the heart of the matter, her nerves were kicking in big time.
‘You may have told her a couple of tiny white lies...? Now, why does that admission send a shiver of apprehension racing down my spine?’
‘I love your mother. I’ve always been close to her, as you well know, and more especially now, since my parents decamped to Melbourne for my dad’s three-year secondment to the university there. I’ve been with her throughout this awful business, and you can trust me when I tell you that her spirits are sinking lower and lower by the day. Who knows what could happen?’
‘Yes, I’m getting the picture. You’ve known my mother since the dawn of time and you’re worried about her, despite hard evidence from the experts that everything’s ticking along nicely. So, Georgie, just say what you have to say—because my apprehension is still there. Why don’t we dump this meandering, getting-nowhere-fast route and stick to the main road? In fact, why don’t we just return to those little white lies of yours?’
‘Okay, Matias... I may have encouraged your mother to feel that she has every right to look forward to the future...’
‘Bracing advice.’
‘Because you’re involved with someone, and happily it’s not one of those women your mother disapproves of.’
‘The more I hear, the more I ask myself whether you and my mother have any topic of conversation aside from me.’
‘We never talk about you!’ Georgina snapped, momentarily distracted by the sheer egotism of the man. ‘It’s only because of the situation that she’s taken to confiding in me... Naturally I’m not going to tell her to keep her worries and fears to herself... Trust me when I tell you that I don’t encourage her to talk about you!’
‘Let’s leave that to one side for the while. So, I’m involved with someone my mother approves of? I suppose, as fairy stories go, that one could work—provided I’m not called upon to introduce this paragon to her. Because if I am, then it’s going to take a lot more than creative spin to cover up the cracks in your plan.’
‘Well, you see, this is where it may be less difficult than you imagine...’
She cleared her throat. She couldn’t carry on—especially when he was staring at her narrowly, his clever brain whirring away to make sense of what she’d just said. She inhaled deeply and reminded herself that this was why she was here—this was why she had made this inconvenient trip to London to see a man who had always managed to rub her up the wrong way.
She was here to do a job, so to speak.
Yes, she had acted on impulse—but impulse was not a dangerous thing because it was a good thing. All she had to do was look ahead to the good that could come out of it. And not be deterred by those bitter-chocolate-dark eyes staring at her with off-putting intensity.
‘I’m all ears.’
‘I’ve told your mother that you and I are an item,’ she said in a challenging voice.
It came out in a rush and left behind a silence that was thick and dense and so uncomfortable that she could only stare down at her sandals while wishing that the ground would open up and swallow her whole.
Oh, how different the whole thing had seemed when she had told Rose. She had watched how the older woman’s thin face had lit up. Rose had actually clapped her hands with delight, and Georgina had had a wonderful moment of basking in the warm glow of having made someone she loved very happy.
Before common sense had set in. By which time it had been too late to retract what she had said and the warm glow had been replaced by an icy, clammy dread.
Right now, right here, she wondered what had possessed her. How on earth could she have thought that this might be a good idea? She had travelled up to London prepared to stand her ground and fight her corner, but she had forgotten how intimidating Matias could be.
Why had impulse galloped ahead of common sense?
‘Sorry?’ Matias inclined his head with an expression of rampant disbelief. ‘I think I may have misheard what you just said...’
CHAPTER TWO
‘YOU HAVEN’T,’ GEORGINA said flatly.
‘Okay. So let me run this past you and you can tell me if I’ve got anything wrong. My mother is feeling a bit low...’
‘With all the signs of depression...’
‘Which could probably be taken care of with a course of tablets, because—believe it or not—tablets do exist for conditions like depression. But you’ve unilaterally, and without bothering to consult me, decided to rule that practical solution out.’
‘You’re making it sound so black and white and it’s not. Which is something you would see if you were around a little more often!’
‘Let’s leave the criticisms to one side for the time being, Georgie. In a nutshell, my mother is down, wishes she could hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet, and to oblige her and raise her spirits you’ve decided to tell her a whopper about you and I being involved.’
‘You should have seen the expression on her face, Matias. She hasn’t looked so overjoyed in... Well, I would say years. Not since your dad died. Even before the stroke!’
Matias looked anything but overjoyed. His expression was a mixture of outraged incredulity and simmering anger. Of course she hadn’t expected immediate capitulation, because that would have been too good to be true, but she saw she was going to have to use all her powers of persuasion. She couldn’t bear the thought of his mother fading away into a chronic depression.
Even after Antonio’s death Rose hadn’t sunk into the sort of dull-eyed, low-level despair Georgina had begun to notice in her recently. The fact that tests were still ongoing was simply feeding into her acceptance that the road she was travelling was heading sharply downwards. She was ill, she was down, and nothing was ever going to change.
Until now Georgie hadn’t really appreciated just how much of a surrogate mother Rose had become for her. Her own mother, whom she loved dearly, was worlds apart from her, wrapped up in academia—a world with which Georgina was unfamiliar. She had never got her intellect going, never been able to follow in her parents’ intellectual footsteps. Her father lectured in economics, her mother in international law.
She, on the other hand, even from a young age, had been a lot happier being creative. It was to her parents’ credit that they had never tried to push her towards a career she would have had no hope of achieving, and while they had busied themselves with university stuff Georgina, growing up, had drifted off to Matias’s house, bonded with his parents and adored their wacky creativity.
She loved his mother, and that thought put a bit of much-needed steel in her weakening resolve.
‘If I didn’t know better,’ Matias said, ‘I would be inclined to think that you’ve finally cracked. And here’s a little question, Georgie—why would my mother believe that you and I are an item? Every time we meet we end up arguing. I don’t like women who argue. My mother knows that. For God’s sake, she’s met enough of the women I’ve dated in the past to know that chalk and cheese just about sums it up when it comes to you and the kind of women I’m attracted to!’
Every word that left his beautiful mouth was a direct hit, but Georgina refused to let him get to her. However, she was distracted enough to ask, with dripping sarcasm, ‘So...you don’t like women who argue? Or do you mean
you don’t like women who happen to have an opinion that doesn’t concur with yours? In other words, does your attraction to the opposite sex begin and end with towering blondes whose entire vocabulary is comprised of one word...yes?’
Matias folded his arms and burst out laughing. ‘Now you’re making me sound shallow,’ he drawled. ‘But, just for the record, I’ve never had a problem with towering blondes with single-syllable vocabularies. When you live life in the fast lane the last thing you want is a sniping nag reminding you that you’re back five minutes late and asking where’s the milk you were supposed to buy.’
‘I doubt you’ve ever done anything as mundane as buy a pint of milk, Matias.’
‘Not recently, I haven’t. Not since I was a kid, running errands down to that woefully badly stocked corner shop next to Bertie’s place. Of course there was only the occasional need for milk to be bought,’ he continued, his voice hardening, ‘after my parents decided to try their hand with a pet cow. But back on point, here. If my mother has bought this story of yours then she’s suffering from more than just mild depression. I mean...when exactly are we supposed to be conducting this raunchy, clandestine relationship that’s only now come to light?’
This was the longest one-to-one conversation they had had in a while, and Georgina was mesmerised by his dark, compelling beauty. She was noticing all sorts of details that had only before registered vaguely on her subconscious.
Like the depths of silvery grey in his eyes—at times as icy as the frozen Arctic wastes, at times almost black and smouldering. Like the sensual curve of his mouth and the aquiline perfection of his lean features. Not to mention the dramatic lushness of those black lashes that were so good at shielding what he didn’t want the world to see. He oozed an unfair amount of sinful sex appeal, and the longer she looked at him the more addled her brain became and the faster she lost track of what she wanted to say.
As if from those faraway days when she had dreamily fantasised about a relationship that had never stood a chance of materialising, the impact he’d always had on her came rushing back, as though no time had intervened...as though she’d never seen first-hand the type of women he enjoyed and the type he definitely didn’t. In short—her.
She dragged her disobedient eyes away and focused on a point just past his right shoulder. ‘I’m close to your mother, but she doesn’t know my every movement, Matias. I told her that we’d been meeting in secret for the past few months but didn’t want to bring it out into the open because it was still quite new...’
‘Ingenious. But now that’s all changed because we’ve...what? Had an epiphany? Fill in the blanks here, would you?’
‘I just said that it was...you know...in the early stages but definitely serious...’
‘And I’m guessing that you skirted over the details because you trusted that old adage that people will always believe what they want to believe?’
Georgina blushed. Her green eyes flashed defiance, but she was finding it hard to win him over, and with a sinking heart she knew that he wasn’t going to jump on board with this. She would have to return to the village with her tail between her legs and break the news that their so-called serious relationship had crashed and burned.
So much for impulse being a good thing. So much for the ends justifying the means.
‘Not going to happen, Georgie,’ Matias delivered with finality. ‘It was a ludicrous idea and, whilst I appreciate that you lied for the best of reasons, I’m not going to sucked into giving credence to your little charade.’
Defeated, Georgina could only look at him in silence. She tucked her hair behind her ear and sat on her hands, leaning forward, her body rigid with tension.
‘Furthermore, I dislike the fact that you saw fit to drag me into this poorly thought out scheme of yours. Did it never occur to you that I might have a life planned out that doesn’t include a phoney relationship with you to appease my mother?’
‘No,’ Georgina said with genuine honesty, because at the time there had been one thing and one thing only on her mind, and that had been the fastest way to bring Rose back from whatever dark place she was getting lost in.
‘Well, perhaps it should have.’
‘I just thought—’
‘Georgie,’ Matias interrupted heavily, standing up to indicate that the conversation was at an end, ‘you’ve always been like my parents. Warm-hearted, but essentially lacking in that practical gene which can sometimes appear harsh but which is the one that makes sense at the end of the day. Now, do you want some fondant?’
‘I’ve lost my appetite. And if by practical you mean hard as nails and cold as ice, then I’m very glad that I was born without that particular gene.’ She stood up as well. ‘You may pride yourself, Matias Silva, on seeing the world from your practical point of view, but that doesn’t necessarily make you a happy guy, does it? Yes, it might make you a wealthy one, but there’s a great big world out here that is rich and rewarding and has nothing to do with how much money you have in your bank account.’
‘We’ll agree to differ on that one.’
Georgina swerved past him and strode, head held high, towards the front door.
‘For God’s sake, Georgie, you can still stay the night in my house.’
‘I’d rather not, as it happens.’
‘Well, where’s the B&B?’
‘Somewhere in west London—but I’m happy to make my own way there.’
‘Just give me the address and I’ll get my driver to drop you. It’ll be a damn sight more comfortable than trekking on the Underground or trying to work out which bus goes where.’
He didn’t give her time to object. He flipped his cell phone out of his pocket and positioned himself in front of the door so that she couldn’t run away.
Matias had said what he’d wanted to say but he still felt guilty. He knew that she would see his lack of co-operation in her hare-brained scheme as a lack of concern for his mother. Nothing could be further from the truth. He had never had much in common with his parents—had always seen their idealistic, holistic, hippy approach to life as charming but irresponsible—but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t loved them in his own way.
His biggest regret was the fact that he hadn’t been able to make it back for his father’s funeral. He’d been abroad, and it had all happened so damned fast. The flight connections to get him back to Cornwall had not been quick enough. He’d been too late. He’d never had the chance to fix the relationship he’d had with his father—a relationship that had been broken over a period of years as Matias had become ever more distant from his tree-hugging parents, whose ideologies he had never been able to grasp.
He’d failed as a son and, even though he’d spent his adult life trying to make up for it, by assiduously making sure his mother was taken care of, Matias knew that there was a yawning chasm between them for which the small, round, feisty copper-haired woman in front of him had judged and sentenced him a long time ago.
But as far as Matias was concerned involving him in something like this without first consulting him just wasn’t on.
‘My driver will be here in five minutes.’ He looked at her and she squirmed resentfully under his piercing gaze. ‘What will you tell my mother?’
‘Do you care? Maybe I’ll tell her that I showed up here and sadly found you in bed with a blonde.’
She sighed. She had no one but herself to blame for the mess she found herself in. Matias had every right to refuse to go along with her. He had his jam-packed life to lead, after all.
‘I won’t say that.’
‘I didn’t think you would.’
‘Because I’m so predictable?’
‘Because you’re not the sort.’ He paused. ‘I will come down to Cornwall,’ he murmured thoughtfully. ‘Maybe next weekend, and I’ll stay for a little longer than I usually do.’
‘I’ll make sure to keep out of your way,’ Georgina inserted politely. ‘It might make for fireworks if we’re supposed to be in t
he throes of a hostile break-up.’
Matias looked at her and reluctantly grinned. ‘Tell me why you’ve always been able to make me laugh even though we fight like cat and dog? No, scrap that. You’ll probably end up fighting with me again. What story will you spin for my mother when you break the disappointing news that we’re no longer a hot item?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll think of something.’
‘This was your idea,’ Matias mused, ‘but I’ll shoulder the blame for the break-up of a relationship that never was. It’ll be far more believable that I’m the baddie in this scenario anyway. I won’t be letting my mother down too much.’
He saw the flash of curiosity in her eyes and sidestepped it adroitly.
‘Fair’s fair, after all. Now... Safe trip back, Georgie.’ He hesitated. What else was there to say?
Georgina didn’t hang around. His chauffeur-driven Mercedes was waiting by the pavement, engine idling, and she didn’t look back as she ducked into the back seat.
Mission Impossible had turned into Mission She Must Have Been Crazy. She consoled herself all way to the bed and breakfast by telling herself that she had done her best and there was nothing more she could have done.
The bed and breakfast was not in the most salubrious of locations, but it was reasonably priced and it was clean. Her room was so small that everything seemed to be squeezed in, with only just enough free space to allow passage from bed to bathroom without minor injuries occurring en route.
She had a shower and stuck on the little tee shirt and skimpy shorts she always wore to sleep. At night, in the darkness of the bedroom...that was the time she felt most self-confident about her body.
She could have been married by now. She could have had a child! It was bizarre to think it, but it was true. Lying there in the dark, something about seeing Matias’s dark, beautiful face brought to mind thoughts of Robbie and the marriage that had never been.
They were memories that she kept locked away in her head, but now, like imps released from captivity, they stretched and decided to have a little fun at her expense. Memories of being engaged, planning her big day, only to be told a handful of weeks before they were due to tie the knot that he just couldn’t go through with it.
Modern Romance May 2019: Books 5-8 Page 3