His intense stare made her feel nervous, but not in an entirely bad way.
“Okay, let me get you started. Why are you so grumpy?”
He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest and muttered, “Pass.”
“You can’t pass,” she said, shaking her head and leaning forward.
“I can do anything I want Miss Harper.”
Okay, the Grumpy Farmer was back, she thought as she rolled her eyes and slumped back in her chair dramatically.
He sighed. “Okay. Fine.” He conceded in defeat, “You win, but I’m not talking about that, and you first.” He smirked, pointing his finger at her. “Favourite film?”
“When Harry Met Sally. You?”
“The Italian Job. The original,” he added, raising his finger. “I loved vintage mini’s as a kid. Favourite… er, book?”
“Easy, Gone with the Wind, hands down best book ever. You gotta love Scarlett’s independent nature and her attitude to life, not to mention the fabulous fashions of the mid eighteen hundreds. Not that I envy the tight corsets, although some of my shoes are likely just as painful. You?”
“Oh erm, I’m not sure, probably just some Dan Brown thriller or something.” He shook his head and picked up a beer mat, twirling it in his hands.
“Ah ah, no way Mr Darling. Come on, just tell me. If you don’t then I’ll just think the worst.”
“Okay, fine, it’s The Princess Bride. Okay.” He pulled at the corners of the mat.
Ana grinned and doing her best Vizzini impression lisped, “Inconceivable!”
“Yeah, Yeah laugh it up.” He gently tossed the beer mat at her and she caught it on instinct. “Impressive.”
“You’re a closet romantic aren’t you?! I love that book too. So did you read the kissing parts too?!”
“No,” he refuted too quickly, “it’s got really good action sequences in it and Mrs H used to read it to me when I was a kid, and then Pip demanded I read it to her when she was younger. She insisted on me doing all the accents. You know…” He cleared his throat and in a hilariously bad Spanish accent quoted, “Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die!” A wry smile curved from the corner of his mouth as reached to pick up his glass and drank his beer.
Ana couldn’t help but laugh as his awful Spanish accent. “Sure, whatever you need to tell yourself. Don’t worry Farm Boy, your secret’s safe with me.”
He rolled his eyes at her at her teasing. “Favourite ice-cream flavour?” he asked as a distraction.
“Ben and Jerry’s Peanut Butter every time. Yours?”
He pursed his lips and dropped his brows. “You know, I really don’t think I have a favourite, probably just boring vanilla.”
“Even vanilla can be exciting… given the right topping,” she said, winking at him and then laughing at his bemused and slightly shocked expression. Was that a blush in his cheeks?
And so it continued…When he wasn’t being grumpy he was actually good company, but she couldn’t fail to notice the inquisitive looks they attracted from the locals. Matt was clearly known to all and attracted a female following of varying ages, and some of the looks she received were positively venomous. The message was clear: “he’s our hottie, so back off London chick.” She would’ve found it quite funny if she wasn’t in fear that the one with the blonde quaffed hairstyle, red talon nails, and matching lipstick might actually cause her some physical harm. She was a viper dressed perfectly in vintage Chanel. She had to give the snake kudos for that.
She averted her eyes from the unfriendly female stares and bent down to stroke George’s ears as he curled up in front of their table, basking in the heat from the fire. As she brought her head back up to the table, a young barmaid approached their table tentatively, finally gathering courage to come over and ask for her autograph. Anastacia didn’t fail to notice her lick her lips, flutter her eyes, and stick out her small chest. Ana was a model. She noticed such actions. She assumed it was for Matt’s benefit but he seemed completely disinterested and she actually felt sorry for the young woman. Slightly.
She caught Matt’s unease and displeasure as she signed the girl’s notebook and posed for a selfie with her, Matt having refused to take the picture.
“Doesn’t that… “ he paused as if looking for the right word or trying not to swear, “bother you?”
“What, your rudeness, or her polite request for a photo?” she teased whilst sitting back in her chair. At his cool stare she continued. “It’s just part of the job. You probably have bits of yours that you hate but tolerate.” She took another sip of her drink before adding, “Like putting up with annoying models who land at your door with no coat and wearing fabulously inappropriate shoes.” She winked and shrugged her shoulders. “This is mine.”
His thoughts were clearly elsewhere as he stared into the crackling fireplace and ignored her. Stubborn man..
He stood abruptly. “Another one?” he asked, and she couldn’t help quoting back at him in the hope she could raise a smile.
“As you wish.” Maybe he had the book in the library back at the house aanndd… Maybe taking that sleeping pill and drinking so much alcohol wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had…
***
Matt had to hide his smile from her. Stubborn redheaded woman, he thought. It was obvious that she hated the pint of bitter but was clearly not going to let on. She may be a top model but she was no top actress. He couldn’t get his head around what her day to day life must be like: constant interruptions and silly requests for a signed piece of paper and a photograph. No privacy. Why the hell would that appeal to anyone?
He stole a quick glance over his shoulder. George, the traitor, was curled up enjoying Ana’s attentions yet again. He lifted his head briefly to gaze lovingly at her. Good grief, he thought, he had it bad. As if hearing his thoughts, George turned his head to him and gave him a look which Matt loosely interpreted as “What the hell are you waiting for? Get on with it mate.”
He quickly averted his gaze back to the bar and dropped his head in shame. Yep, definitely jealous of his dog.
As he waited for Bob to finish serving him he reflected on his surprise at the fact that he was actually enjoying himself. He’d popped into the pub several times since Emily’s departure but never really just sat back and chilled, enjoying someone else’s company. How strange that a woman, apparently known all over the world but not to him and who represented almost everything that he despised, would be the one person he could actually talk to… that he actually wanted to open up to. Yet something still held him back. She was a stranger after all, even if his sister and Mrs Henderson were treating her like a long lost Darling, home for Christmas.
Okay, so he was attracted to Ana. There, he’d admitted it, if only to himself, and secretly he loved the fact that she was wearing his clothes. She was a model, her job was to attract, so he decided he wouldn’t continue to beat himself up about it. There was no point even thinking of taking it any further. He certainly wasn’t ready for another relationship and anyway, she likely had some macho male model/actor/singer as a companion. They probably stared at themselves in the mirror each morning before congratulating each other on their respective attractiveness.
He returned to their table and set their drinks down. “Are you married?” Shit, why the hell had he just blurted that out? His mouth and brain were clearly not on the same wave length.
It was Ana’s turn to choke on the dregs from her glass.
“Sorry, “she finally managed to mutter, still clearing her throat. “Erm, no I’m not. You?” she countered, raising her brow.
“No.”
Smooth Matt, real smooth.
“I think I need a brandy. You?” He needed to escape, re-group and calm the hell down before he asked her what her favourite colour was and if she’d like to go with him to the school disco. Purple, he thought, as he jumped up and headed back to the bar.
***
Matt had jumped up
and almost ran to the bar before even waiting for her reply. She eyed their full glasses on the table. He seemed a bit out of sorts. Correction, more out of sorts than earlier. If she didn’t know better she’d have said he was nervous but she knew his type. Sexy, wealthy, sexy, self- confident business man. Had she mentioned he was sexy?
Why would he be nervous around her? There was something more to him, hidden behind a carefully constructed grumpy exterior that may or may not be his genuine character. Could it just be a shield? She knew all about shields; hers had been perfected over many lonely years. But if he had one, why?
She took the “not to be missed” opportunity to openly admire his backside yet again as he stood at the bar and spoke to Bob. She imagined a luscious ripe peach, just waiting to be bitten…
“My oh my George,” she bent down to whisper at him while her eyes stayed fixated on Matt’s behind, “Have you ever seen a more attractive backside?” She dropped her gaze to meet George’s dark brown eyes as they stared back up at her. She smiled as he tilted his head to one side as if to say, “you think?!” She continued, “Don’t you just want to grab it and squeeze? No? Well, I guess you’re a boy. Now if Alix was here I’d have to prop him up, wipe off the drool, and fan him with the beer mat.” She sat back in her chair and leaned her head to the side. “‘‘Course that backside could do with a good kick occasionally… just when he’s extra grumpy.”
Anastacia narrowed her eyes, fascinated as the Village Viper stalked her prey, deciding it was time to make her strike. Her prey was distracted, vulnerable. Matt’s body automatically jerked away as the viper touched his arm and whispered in his ear. It was as if he’d been electrocuted. She smiled to herself, contemplating how long to leave it until she rescued him. Surprisingly, he now seemed overly polite. It must just be her that caused his caustic reaction. She tried to analyse his strange reactions as he attempted to politely dislodge himself from the viper’s ‘ O.P.I “Winter Berry” claws without causing offence. When Anastacia saw her reach up to touch his face, she’d seen enough. The man had already told her that he hated attention and he evidently needed rescuing.
Ditching her David Attenborough commentary, she used stealth to approach them unseen before slipping her hand around Matt’s backside and putting her hand into the back pocket of his jeans, kissing him on the cheek and being secretly thrilled that he hadn’t jerked away from her touch. “Hey honey, just thought I’d see what was taking you so long, I’m so thirsty. Hi.” She turned to the viper, fixing her best professional smile to her lips and offering her hand. “I’m Anastacia, or Ana as Matt prefers to calls me. Pleased to meet you,” she said, charmingly offering her hand.
The Village Viper gawped for a moment before her eyes widened with recognition and she accepted defeat. She shook her hand and backed off. “You too. See you at the Ball, Matt.” She slithered off back under her rock.
“You’re welcome,” she whispered in his ear, turning back to their table and re-settling herself in the comfy chair, pleased with a job well done.
Matt joined her with the drinks, his expression dark. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he complained, shaking his head. “That’s Phyllis Armer, she’s harmless, just lonely.” His eyes darted around the room as if to make sure there was no one around. “Her husband ran off with the mobile hairdresser a few years back. She owns the ladies’ dress shop in the village.” He sighed, shaking his head again. “Now we’ll have to deal with the fallout of the whole village thinking there is something going on between us.” That muscle in his jaw was twitching again, as she tried to ignore its increasing appeal.
“You said you hated attention and I thought she was giving you too much. So anyway.” She started, in order to change the subject, not willing to get into yet another argument with him. “What’s happening with this Ball she mentioned?”
Matt stared at here for a moment as if he had something on his mind or was trying to figure out some puzzle before he recovered.
“Er, the village has an annual Christmas Ball to raise funds for a local children’s home. It’s held in the village hall and all the locals club together to help with all the arrangements. It’s the day after tomorrow.”
“Sounds like fun. Am I invited?” she enquired, making no apology for being pushy.
His eyes widened slightly before he shrugged his shoulders. “You’d want to go to the Village Ball? Our Village Ball?” He raised his brow as if in disbelief.
At her nod, he continued. “Sure, if you like. Pip and Mrs H will be going and no doubt you’ll have the rest of the villagers falling over themselves to speak to you.”
Such enthusiasm. “Oh, I thought you said that they wouldn’t care less about me. I was looking forward to the anonymity,” she teased.
They spent the next hour or so chatting comfortably about safe subjects like their jobs and hobbies and it was clear to Ana that horses were Matt’s passion, not just something which obviously paid well. His passion was horses, hers was fashion.
“So there’s quite an age gap between you and Pip?”
“Hmm, she was our parent’s little mid-life surprise. My father wanted another Aston Martin and he got a baby girl.” Matt paused and gathered his thoughts. “She took our mother’s death badly so she’s taking some time off from university at the moment ‘till she decides whether she’s going back. But of course she is going back to university, whether she knows it yet or not. I’m just giving her some time out. Her tutors are being very understanding and making allowances.”
“You look out for her. That’s nice.”
“Of course.” He shrugged his shoulders again. “She’s my little sister. My family. It’s my job and I promised our mother.” Matt glanced down at his glass, breaking their eye contact, but not before she caught their sadness, highlighted against the dark shadows beneath his lower lashes.
Ana was surprised by his powerful declaration about Pip. Despite her limited experience with men she knew it was rare for a man to speak so passionately and protectively about his little sister. It was clear that he adored his sibling and her heart ached to have someone care for her with such devotion. What would that kind of love and protection feel like? Yes, she had Alix, but it wasn’t the same as proper family.
He sighed heavily and shook his head as if to dispel sad memories. “Of course, there was that time I locked her in a wardrobe and then forgot about her and went out with a girl.” He winced and took a swig of his drink. “Better not mention that to her though, she’s still a bit sensitive about it.”
“Our secret. So that’s two secrets so far… anything else you want to confess?” She quickly added, “From one insomniac to another.”
He shook his head. “I don’t have a problem sleeping.”
“Ha.” The short sound burst from her throat. “Now, I already told you about my Mensa membership so don’t treat me like an idiot. If you don’t want to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you and keeping you awake at night that’s fine,” she paused to take a sip of her drink before she shook her head, “but don’t lie.”
“I don’t know you,” he stated as a matter of fact.
She thinned her lips before saying, “Precisely. I’ll be gone and out of your life in a couple of days so you have no need to worry that I’ll make some judgment about you.” She quickly tilted her head to one side. “Well,” she continued, “none that you’ll be bothered by. I’m like the best free therapy you could get.”
He dropped his eyes away from her again. Her suspicions that there was something else going on with this man were confirmed, but clearly now wasn’t the time. He wasn’t going to talk. “I’m sorry about your mum,” she said, and he looked back into her eyes, smiled half-heartedly and nodded. “Mrs Henderson told me.”
“Yeah, well, it was for the best I suppose. She was in pain towards the end and ever since my dad died, she’d never really been the same. She never recovered. They were soulmates, married for over fifty years. They certainly set Pip and
I an unattainable standard.” He cleared his throat. “So do you have siblings?”
She gave a humourless sharp laugh. “No, I barely have a mother. There was no way she was going to make the same mistake twice and have another kid.”
“You’re not close then?” he asked, narrowing his eyes, confused by her comment.
She gave him a mirthless smile. “Nope, we’re not even living on the same continent, haven’t for years. She’s always been focused on her career. From what little I know, she had a fling with someone, most likely a director or such like, and got knocked up. I still don’t know why she kept me.”
She caught Matt wince from the corner of her eye like she’d hit a nerve.
“She probably hoped she could snare the fella into some sort of advantageous marriage fiasco. I’m guessing he was probably married. Anyway.” She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “She had me but I have no happy memories of my childhood and no idea who my father is. Just ever changing ‘nannies and being packed off to boarding school as soon as I was old enough. I’ve tried so many times over the years to get close to her but there’s only so many times you can get kicked, right? Even dogs learn eventually.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He said, honestly. “I can’t imagine not being close to my mother. Still, she must be proud of you. What you’ve achieved and everything?” at her wry look he quickly added, “Pip tells me your very famous.”
“You’d think.” Ana took a sip of her brandy. She was so not ready to have that conversation with a man she’d only just met… especially as he wasn’t up for quid pro quo.
CARINA™
ISBN: 978 1 474 02832 5
His Irresistible Darling
Copyright © 2015 Sarah Randall
Published in Great Britain (2015)
by Carina, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited, Eton House, 18–24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
His Irresistible Darling Page 28