by Anne Mather
‘That so?’ His fingers slid into her hair. ‘Well, Miss-Graham? Gregory? Whatever the hell your name is, you just got yourself a life-sentence.’
It was the evening of that day before they really talked again. Some time after sundown, Helen stirred in the silken comfort of Matthew’s huge bed to find he had turned on the lamps and was watching her with a decidedly possessive smile on his dark face.
‘You must have been tired,’ he remarked, dipping his head and stroking her bare shoulder with his tongue. ‘I like watching you sleep.’
Helen coloured, and groped for the sheet, but he wouldn’t let her cover herself. ‘Don’t ever hide yourself from me,’ he whispered huskily. ‘You’re beautiful, and I’m never going to get tired of looking at you.’
Helen relaxed. ‘Nor I you,’ she admitted sweetly. ‘Oh, Matt, I do love you.’
‘Do you?’ A dark brow arched. ‘I’m so glad to hear it.’
She frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, you didn’t say that before,’ he told her drily. ‘I hoped, but…’
‘Matt!’ She got up on her elbows and looked down into his lazy face. ‘You knew how I felt. I—I just don’t find it that easy to—to say what I feel.’
‘No?’ His hand cupped her nape, under the glorious tangle of her loosened hair. ‘Well, let me see, what else can I do to help you?’
‘You know what I mean,’ she exclaimed hotly, and then, realising he was teasing her, she bent and nipped his lip with her teeth. ‘Devil,’ she said. ‘You were never in any doubt.’
Matthew grinned. ‘If I say I was, will you do that again?’
Helen shook her head. ‘You’re incorrigible.’
‘Just insatiable,’ he corrected her softly. ‘For you.’
And for several minutes Helen couldn’t answer him.
But when he eventually allowed her to prop herself above him again, she said, ‘About Fleur—’
‘To hell with Fleur,’ he retorted feelingly. But at her troubled look he relented. ‘The last we heard she was in Los Angeles. She’d apparently hooked up with some other poor guy.’
‘No?’
‘Yes.’ He sighed. ‘That was when I became convinced that she hadn’t bothered to find out if you were OK.’
Helen grimaced. ‘Well, I suppose that’s something to thank her for,’ she mused, but Matthew didn’t look convinced.
‘Mmm,’ he said wryly. ‘Well, at any rate, she shouldn’t be bothering us again for some time. And once we’ve made her a grandmother, she’s not going to find it easy to forgive us.’
Helen caught her breath. ‘A grandmother,’ she echoed, and Matthew drew her down to nuzzle her cheek.
‘Well, maybe not immediately,’ he said. ‘There’s the wedding to arrange first, and the honeymoon…’
Helen stared at him. ‘Is that a proposal?’
‘Unless you want me to get down on to my knees. I will, but not right now. You’ve tired me out.’
‘You!’ Helen punched his shoulder. ‘I should refuse to accept it.
‘But you won’t,’ he teased, and then, with a trace of concern, ‘Will you?’
‘No,’ she conceded ruefully, and with a triumphant groan Matthew rolled her on to her back and imprisoned her beneath him. ‘Providing…’
‘Providing?’
He stopped what he was doing to stare down at her, and she gave him a mischievous smile. ‘Providing you’ll ask your father to be your best man,’ she finished, finding herself incapable of saying anything to burst his bubble of happiness, and he gave a hoot of laughter.
‘Oh, yes,’ he said, his thigh sliding between hers. ‘My father will be more than willing to oblige. After all, someone’s got to inherit Ryan’s Bend, and he’s been aching for a grandson for years.’
ISBN-13: 9781460392973
A WOMAN OF PASSION
© 1995 Anne Mather
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