Tomorrow he’d begin to make amends for tonight’s ending. Monday morning was going to be very interesting.
* * *
Matt’s jacket hanging on the back of his chair was the only indication he was in the building. Lauren wasn’t sure if she was upset or relieved.
Tucked into her purse was the florist’s card that had accompanied the arrangement of orchids delivered to her hotel room yesterday morning. Another memento, personally inscribed, Forgive me, Matt.
For the kiss or for running?
She’d imagined a number of scenarios for when they met again, none of which eased her apprehension. She couldn’t shake the re-emerged doubts. Their lives, their interests, their personalities, all were polarised. If it weren’t for the undeniable attraction, they’d have nothing in common. She sighed and gazed out of her window lost in a daydream of music, lights and feeling cherished as they’d danced.
‘Why were you hiding?’
She jumped, spun round to find him standing halfway across the room. Her heart stuttered. She covered it with her hand, and fought to steady her erratic breathing. How come he looked so cool and calm? So unruffled?
‘I wasn’t.’ She cursed her wobbly voice. ‘I’m just doing my normal preparation.’
Three rapid paces brought him an arm’s length from her side, leaning on the glass nonchalantly. The firm set of his jaw belied his calm demeanour, giving her composure a tiny boost. He gestured in the general direction of the river.
‘On the balcony, a good cricketer’s throw away from where we had lunch with the Fords.’
He knew—had to see the blush heating her neck and face, the embarrassment in her eyes. Her teeth as they bit on her lip, something she hadn’t done since she was a child.
As she struggled for breath and an answer, his lips—lips that had filled her waking hours since he’d strode away—curled into an apologetic smile.
‘I have no idea why I followed you. I saw a mass of dark curls and a hint of blue dress going through the door alone and wondered why. Couldn’t find you at first.’
He inched a little closer.
‘You running away shook me. I swear I looked for you to apologise, and I’ve always regretted frightening you but never the kiss, never the sweet taste of your lips.’
‘I hated being there,’ she blurted out without thinking. ‘Hated the way I was forced to be part of a world I had no interest in. Places like the balcony were sanctuaries. I didn’t belong inside with those people.’
Fleetingly stunned by her outburst, he recovered to run his fingers in a light path down her cheek and under her jaw, sending fissions of delight skimming across her skin. If he let go, her legs would give way and she’d end up a trembling mess on the floor.
‘And I invaded your peace. Did you know who I was before the interview or recognise me then?’
She felt her skin heat again and dropped her gaze, only to have him tilt her head until she looked him in the eyes. His eyebrows quirked.
‘Lauren?’
‘There were lights behind you that night. I didn’t see your face but as I pushed away your eyes became visible. They’re very distinctive.’
His low chuckle zinged through her. Laughter shone in his eyes and they crinkled at the corners.
‘My eyes, huh. We’ll have to talk more but not here.’
He grated the last word and then his tone softened.
‘The next few days are going to be gruelling. I’ll be juggling appointments regarding Dad’s actions with meetings, on and off site, about new projects. They’ll all take time away from where I want to be.’
His affectionate expression said he meant her. The gap between them diminished. His movement or hers?
‘Come to dinner with me tomorrow night.’
There was an edge to his voice that she didn’t understand. Her first inclination was to refuse but then she’d always wonder.
He claimed he’d tried to find her. If she agreed—and her heart and logic warred about the sensibility of that—she’d have personal time to learn more about him, be able to return to Sydney with no what-ifs. His persuasive voice, his hypnotic gaze, and his touch on her skin were an irresistible combination.
She meant to nod, swayed forward instead. As if in answer to her silent plea, he bent his head. Suddenly jerked away.
‘Not here.’
Growled in anger. Why?
His fingertips tracked lightly across her neck, triggering a goose-bumps rush from cell to cell, from her scalp to the soles of her feet. Awareness flared in his eyes, his chest heaved, and suddenly there was a wide space between them.
‘I have to make a couple of calls, and talk to Joanne before I leave.’
‘What am I supposed to do after I’ve finished the data entries?’
He spread his arms, fingers splayed.
‘Whatever Joanna needs help with. I know it may be below your expertise but...’
He struggled for words. ‘I don’t want a stranger coming in when we transfer those accounts into the mainstream. I want you.’
The inflection in the last three words was personal, nothing to do with accounts or computers. Leaving wasn’t an option.
‘I’ll stay.’ Data entry. Filing. Basic office work. Tasks that would allow her mind to wander to midnight-blue eyes and smiles that lit up her day.
‘You’re an angel. I’ll be here for half an hour then out for the morning. My mobile will be off most of the time so leave a message if you want me.’
His hand lifted towards her. Dropped. He walked out, picking up his jacket on the way.
If she wanted him?
Her body hummed with a need more disturbing than anything she’d ever felt. So much stronger than the mild desire she’d felt during her two previous relationships. She now recognised them as more mind melding and merely physical rather than zealous ardour.
There’d be no ‘let’s be friends’ when the passion died for Matt. He’d walk away and she...she’d survive. Somehow.
* * *
Matt strode to the boardroom, praying it would be empty. He was pleased he’d been able to persuade Lauren to stay. Having her at his home for dinner was risky, considering the way they both responded to the proximity of the other. But how else were they going to talk without interruptions? How else could he find out why she hadn’t trusted him before she knew him?
He’d almost kissed her again this morning. Never, ever going to happen here. He would never follow in his father’s footsteps. Would never use that bedroom, no matter how late he worked or how tired he became.
Footsteps sounded in the corridor. He refocused on the project he and the team were working on, the one he was determined would revitalise the company.
Everything hung on a precipice. His father could be facing fraud charges. He and, in his doing, Dalton Corporation had probably committed tax evasion. Duncan Ford might decide to suspend their talks of investing until Matt could prove he and the company were clean.
He should be broken, anxious of the future. Instead, now he knew the truth he found the challenges stimulating. If it all collapsed around him, he’d start again. Staying down wasn’t an option.
* * *
Lauren collected information needed from Joanne’s office and settled at her desk. She tingled from his touch, her stomach had barely settled, and her brain was in the clouds.
Logging in took two attempts at the password. When she went to write the date on her notepad, she’d left her pen in the drawer. Unless she pulled herself together, today would be a shambles.
Get it together, Lauren.
A fingertip tap on each of her work tools, a muscle-loosening back-stretch, followed by her slow-count-to-fifteen habit, and she moved the cursor.
Engaged in more simplistic tasks, s
he found her mind had a tendency to wander, always to Matt and his effect on her. After an hour, she took a break, ran up and down eight flights of stairs and refocused. Apart from taking messages from occasional phone calls, she was undisturbed.
At midday she joined Joanne and three of the male staff for lunch for the first time, making an effort to contribute to the weekend football match discussion. She didn’t comment when one of the men raved about her youngest brother, who’d kicked four goals including one as the siren sounded.
‘Mr Dalton seems happy with the progress we’ve made on this new venture, Joanne. It’s completely different from anything we did for his father, quite stimulating. Do you think the changes will be permanent?’
Lauren lowered the mug she’d been raising to her lips. She noticed Joanne’s hesitation at the man’s question. How much did she know of the true situation?
‘I know he’s doing all he can to sort everything out and he’ll be tied up with meetings most of the week, nothing else.’ She rose and went to stack her utensils into the dishwasher. ‘Break’s over. Do you have enough to do, Lauren?’
‘Yes, I’ll find you if I need more.’
Every employee she’d met addressed him as Mr Dalton. Although he used their first names, he kept distance between himself and his staff except for her. Because he intended to return to London?
Was there someone special there? Someone prepared to wait for him? Someone he’d taken to Paris?
A no-strings arrangement by two mature people. How did they do that? She couldn’t imagine becoming involved with anyone who also dated other women.
Reinforcing that in her head didn’t stop her stomach from fluttering at his call sign on her mobile.
‘How’s it going, Lauren?’
‘Fine. Joanne says she can keep me occupied today and part tomorrow, after that I may be on cleaning duty.’
He laughed as she’d hoped he would, deep and raspy, making her ear tingle.
‘Anything to keep you here. I won’t get to the office until late today, or tomorrow morning. I’ll call you when I can.’
‘Is it bad?’
‘I’m dealing with reticent legal and financial professionals. They hardly commit to black or white coffee but at least it’s not all doom and gloom. Hang on.’
She heard his name and him replying, ‘Thank you.’
‘I’m being summoned back to the world of ifs, maybes, and it all depends. I’ll see you tomorrow, Lauren.’
‘Tomorrow.’
She sat as still as stone, staring at her mobile. He’d called her Lauren twice; she hadn’t said his name at all. He used hers every time he spoke to her. At the function she’d made a deliberate attempt to say ‘Matt’ in the presence of others. In front of work colleagues it was ‘Mr Dalton’, to conform with them. Alone with him she omitted to call him anything.
He was smart, quick to notice nuances and actions. He’d have to know she deliberately avoided the intimacy of first names.
CHAPTER TEN
MATT 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 c
ode 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.
A Bride for the Brooding Boss Page 10