Passion and Peril: Scenes of PassionScenes of Peril

by Suzanne Brockmann

  He blew her a kiss.

  Which Vanessa, unfortunately, saw.

  “Didn’t you date Maggie back in high school?” she asked Matt after the worst of the spill was cleaned up and they were all sitting back down.

  He shook his head. “No. I went out with Angie. You know, Caratelli, off and on for a couple of years.”

  “But you wanted to date Maggie,” Vanessa persisted. She laughed. “Date being the euphemism that it is in high school.” She looked at her brother. “Right, Steven?”

  “Has anyone seen the new James Bond movie?” Stevie asked brightly.

  “Am I right or am I right?” Van asked Matt.

  “Van,” Maggie said. What was her sister doing? As if Brock weren’t already prickly enough just at the sight of Matt. “Don’t.”

  “Matthew’s not denying it,” she pointed out. She’d had far too much to drink tonight and Maggie’s heart broke for her. Her mother had pulled her aside to report that Van was home because Mitch had made it official. He was filing for divorce.

  Maggie met Matt’s eyes again across the table, and the look on his face was...

  God, was it actually true? Matt had wanted to go out with...

  But...

  “I was seventeen,” Matt said to Vanessa. “I wanted to date everyone.”

  Maggie stood up. Enough already. “We have to get to work.”

  “For the record,” her father said. “I’m not happy about this job change.”

  “For the record,” Maggie said, “I am.”

  * * *

  MATT LEANED AGAINST the Maserati, watching Maggie say good-night to Brock, who was going to stay and keep Vanessa company for a little while longer.

  He clenched his teeth as he watched the other man kiss Maggie. True, she turned her face away so that first kiss landed on her cheek. But Brock was a persistent bastard, and...Matt had to look away.

  He jumped slightly, surprised to see Stevie leaning next to him. He hadn’t heard the kid approach.

  “So. You’re a millionaire.”

  “Not quite.” Matt glanced at Maggie. She’d pulled away from Brock, but he still held her hand.

  “Answer me honestly,” Stevie said. “Are your intentions toward my sister honorable?”

  Matt looked at Stevie in surprise. The kid was already as tall as he was, but he was lanky with that big-boned pony look that teenage boys so often had. He wore his dark hair buzzed at the back and sides, with a long lock of curls in the front that flopped down over his eyes. His face was just starting to lose its boyish prettiness as he began to fill out.

  “I guess that’s not really my business, is it?” Stevie continued with a shrug. “You know, she’s as much as told me that she’s not going to marry the Blockhead.”

  “She did?”

  Stevie smiled. “Yeah, well.” He imitated Brock’s deep voice. “You never know with girls. They’re always changing their minds.”

  Matt laughed. “God, he’s a jerk.”

  “Who’s a jerk?” Maggie said, joining them.

  “No one,” Matt and Stevie said in unison.

  “Oh, great,” Maggie said, looking at their matching Cheshire cat grins. “That’s all I need. You two as cohorts. As if I didn’t know who you were talking about. Come on, Matt. Let me grab my briefcase from my car, then we can go.”

  “Have fun,” Stevie said. With his back carefully to Matt, he dropped her a wink that was loaded with meaning.

  Maggie let her own smile drip saccharine. “You have fun, too, Stevie-poo. Maybe if you’re lucky you can get Vanessa and Brock to play Monopoly with you.”

  “Sounds real neat, but no,” Stevie said. “I’ve got plans. I’m going to go drive past Danielle’s house, oh, twenty-eight, twenty-nine times.” He glanced at Matt. “Unrequited love.”

  Maggie got into Matt’s car as Stevie leaned over to look in the window. “Maybe you can offer me some advice,” he said to Matt, “you know, with the wisdom of your great age and all. There’s this girl, see?”

  “Danielle,” Matt clarified, looking up at Stevie.

  “Check. She’s the most fabulous, beautiful, wonderful... Well, you know. But she doesn’t think of me as a guy. We’re friends, that’s all.”

  Maggie leaned forward to look out Matt’s window at her brother. “Just go knock on her front door and tell her that you love her, for crying out loud!”

  “Oh, no way,” Matt said.

  “God!” Stevie reeled back in shock. “That’s very uncool.”

  “Yeah, and potentially humiliating,” Matt said. “If I were you, I’d take my time. Go slowly. You know, don’t scare her away.”

  “Meanwhile the captain of the football team takes the more direct approach and ends up taking her to the prom,” Maggie said.

  “Oh, no.” Matt cringed.

  “Oh, yes.” Stevie nodded. “Pathetic, but true. And on that cheerful note, I’ll bid you good night.” He vanished into the shadows.

  Matt glanced at Maggie. “Your little brother isn’t so little anymore.”

  “Scary, huh?”

  He started the car, shaking his head. “Sometimes I wish I could be eighteen again. Man, what I’d give to be able to go back and do it over.”

  Maggie groaned. “Not me. Once was enough, thanks.”

  He pulled out of the driveway. “There are definitely some things I’d do differently.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like, I wouldn’t start smoking. I wouldn’t drink or do drugs. I would’ve taken better care of myself.” He glanced at her. “I would’ve asked you out.”

  Maggie looked back at him, but now his eyes were firmly on the road. Vanessa had been right. Matt had wanted to date her in high school. Date. Right. Wow, she’d never known. “Why didn’t you?” she asked.

  He glanced at her with a smile. “Would you have gone out with me if I had?”

  “No.” Her loyalty to Angie had been too strong. She never would have risked that friendship. Even for... “Matt, to be honest, I never thought of you as anything but a friend.”

  Ten years ago. Now she was aware of him to the point of distraction.

  He smiled at her again. “That’s why I never asked you out. I wasn’t a big fan of rejection.”

  They rode in silence for a few miles, then Maggie said, “I’m sorry about dinner. Are you sure you still want me to work for you? It’s obvious that insanity runs rampant in my family.”

  He just laughed. “And it doesn’t in mine?”

  He was pulling into the parking lot of Sparky’s, the town watering hole. “What are you doing? Why are we...? You don’t drink anymore. Do you?” she asked.

  “No, I don’t,” he said. “But you do. And after that dinner you definitely need something with a kick.”

  “Roast beef,” Maggie shook her head. “I can’t believe my mother served roast beef to a vegetarian. Why didn’t you let me say something?”

  He pulled her out of the car. “Because people tend to feel embarrassed and rejected when you don’t take what they offer for dinner. I took the plate and didn’t hurt your mom’s feelings.” Still holding her hand, he led her across the parking lot and into the dimly lit bar. “But I didn’t eat the meat. It’s an old trick I learned in California. Cut it up and move it around the plate and no one notices that you didn’t eat it. Everyone’s happy.”

  Maggie hadn’t been inside Sparky’s in close to seven years, but the place hadn’t changed. It was dark and it smelled like a frat-house basement.

  Matt pulled two stools out from the bar, then stepped back so Maggie could climb up. He sat next to her, pulling his stool so close that his thigh brushed hers. He caught the bartender’s eye. “Coupla drafts.”

  The touch of his leg against hers was mak
ing her crazy. Matt had never been careful with her personal space, constantly draping an arm around her, often coming up behind her to massage her shoulders or braid her hair.

  His casual, friendly touch had always been part of the package. True, Maggie had heard tell that a friendly backrub had at times led to far more friendly activities, but she had never been subject to his amorous advances.

  Or had she? Maybe she’d been too naive to realize....

  He leaned against the bar and his shoulder grazed hers and she nearly jumped off the stool.

  The bartender slid two foaming mugs of beer in front of them, and she gratefully took a long swallow. And risked a look at Matt.

  His elbows rested on the bar and his T-shirt was pulled tight across his strong back. He was watching her, his face shadowy in the weak light, his eyes reflecting the yellow of a neon sign. It made him look otherworldly and alien, reminding her that he was in some ways a stranger, after all that time away.

  Ten years ago, she never would’ve dreamed of kissing Matthew Stone. Tonight, she was having trouble thinking about anything else.

  Maggie remembered her own words, spoken only minutes before to Stevie, realizing how impossible her advice had been. There was simply no way on earth she’d ever be able to turn to Matt and tell him that she was falling in love with him.

  But she was.

  But she couldn’t. What would Angie say if she knew? What would Matt say?

  She stared morosely into her beer, taking another sip and feeling its coolness and accompanying warmth course through her.

  Matt drew lines in the frost on the outside of his glass of beer. His glass of beer? What was a guy who’d been in a detox center three years ago doing with a glass of beer?

  “You’re not going to drink that, are you?” she asked.

  “No.” Matt laughed. “I’m not an alcoholic, despite what you heard from Dan Fowler today. I don’t drink because I choose not to, not because I can’t.”

  He met her gaze steadily, and she felt herself blush. “I’m sorry.”

  What had happened to him three years ago? She wished he would talk about it, but he didn’t. And she was afraid to push.

  He reached over and pushed her empty glass toward the bartender, then slid the full glass in front of her. “I ordered this for you. Let’s go play pool.”

  “I thought we were going to talk business.”

  “I’d rather play pool. We can talk business tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow’s Sunday,” she said. “I’m having dinner with Brock.”

  Matt let his opinion of Brock show on his face. “Why do you waste your time with him?”

  “I’m not,” she said. “I mean, I won’t be anymore.”

  There was a flare of something in his eyes. Satisfaction. And something else. “Good. Because he’s...” Matt laughed. “Don’t get me started. I can’t believe you’ve been dating him for, what is it? Six months?”

  “Five months,” she corrected him. “And we’ve never actually...dated.” At least not according to Van’s definition.

  Matt knew what she was saying. “Wow,” he said. “That’s... Wow.” He laughed. “So okay. If his being fabulous in bed wasn’t the reason you were with him... Why the hell did you go out with him more than once?”

  Maggie closed her eyes. “Because he wanted to be with me,” she told him. “Because nice men don’t exactly fall out of the sky. Because I hoped he’d grow on me. Because I want a family. I want babies. Did I tell you that Angie is pregnant?”

  She looked at him, expecting to see disbelief on Matt’s face. Angie. Pregnant. Instead, he was looking at the floor, real sadness in his eyes.

  Was it possible he still loved her?

  Maggie touched his arm. “Are you okay? I mean, I know it must be a shock. Angie always swore that she’d never have kids, but...”

  Now he looked perplexed. “What did you say about Angie? I think I missed something.”

  “She and Freddy are going to have a baby,” Maggie repeated.

  “No kidding? That’s great.”

  Okay, now she was the one who was confused. If it hadn’t been the news about Angie, what had made him look so unhappy?

  “Angie’s going to be a really cool mom,” Matt said. “Although I can’t picture her changing a diaper.”

  She finished her second beer and, almost magically, another appeared. She narrowed her eyes at Matt. “Are you trying to get me too drunk to talk business? Another beer and we’ll have to play pool. I won’t be coherent.”

  “I’m trying to get you relaxed,” he admitted. “You’re wound pretty tight.”

  He slid off his seat and, standing behind her, he slipped his hands under her hair and began massaging the muscles in her neck and shoulders.

  God, it felt good. Too good. Maggie felt herself get even more tense.

  “Man, you have to loosen up. Is this what being a high-powered attorney does to you?”

  No, it was what he did to her. She closed her eyes, letting his fingers work their magic, letting herself pretend that they were in an alternate time line—one where Matt was more than just a friend.

  Matt could see Maggie’s face in the bar mirror. Under his hands, her shoulders were starting to relax. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted slightly.

  Oh, brother. That was just too inviting. He was dying to kiss her the way he’d kissed her that morning at the audition. She’d actually commended him on his fine acting job, unaware that he hadn’t been acting at all.

  He was praying that they’d both get the leads so that he’d be able to kiss her that way again and again. And again.

  It was an odd blend of torment and delight. Delight that she could kiss him and make his heart pound and his blood rush. Torment that she could seem so unaffected by it herself.

  And, oh, my God, she’d never slept with Brock.

  “We should talk about work. What time do you want to start tomorrow?” Maggie murmured, her eyes still closed.

  “What time is your dinner with Brock?” he countered.

  “We made plans to meet at six,” she said.

  “Then let’s start early,” he leaned close to her ear to say. “Eight o’clock. Let’s have breakfast together, okay?”

  It was an innocent enough suggestion, but somehow with his hands on her shoulders, his fingers caressing the bare skin of her neck, it seemed like a different sort of invitation. Maggie’s heart nearly stopped when she felt him lean forward and kiss her just below her ear.

  He spun her bar stool so that she faced him.

  He was going to kiss her. Wasn’t he? As Maggie looked up into his eyes, she only saw uncertainty. Oh, boy, she was probably looking at him as if she wanted to gobble him up, which would freak him out if he’d only intended that kiss on the neck—as sensual as it had felt—to be friendly.

  “As your lawyer,” she said, half to fill in the sudden odd silence, “I recommend that we gain access to any other papers that might be in the court’s files.”

  Matt backed off. “Other papers?” He was puzzled.

  “Your father’s will states only that you must, and I quote, ‘improve the business,’ within a three-month time period. It’s much too vague. What exactly did your father mean by ‘improve the business’?”

  “Make more money,” Matt said. “That was always the bottom line for him.”

  Maggie frowned. “I’m going to need to look at the company’s yearly financial statement, as well as the last few years’ quarterly reports. As far as we both know, Yankee Potato Chip is thriving despite the recession. I’d bet that gross profits aren’t going to vary from quarter to quarter.”

  And it wouldn’t be easy to improve a healthy business in only three months. Any action made by an increased, aggressive advertising campaign woul
dn’t bring about increased sales within three months. Maggie put her chin in her hand and stared into space.

  “What are you thinking?” Matt asked.

  She looked at him. “I was just wondering what could possibly be in that codicil.”

  “What’s a codicil?”

  “It’s an addendum to a document. There was a note at the bottom of your father’s will, with your father’s signature, saying that his will has a codicil. It was dated only a few weeks before he died, but it wasn’t included in the other pages you gave me. The court has a copy. We’ll need to see it,” Maggie told him.

  “You think it’s going to be any help?” Matt asked.

  “I don’t know. There’s probably a copy of it somewhere in your office. We should go back and start looking for it.” She slid off the stool and nearly landed on the floor.

  “I’ll look for it later,” Matt told her as he caught her. “I think you’re ready for a game of pool. You want to break or should I?”

  Chapter Six

  MAGGIE UNLOCKED THE kitchen door and went into the house without turning on the light. She was feeling wobbly from all that beer she’d had. She normally didn’t have a single beer, let alone four. Or was it five?

  It was after midnight, and her parents had gone to bed. The house was dark, so she locked the door behind her and crept into the living room and...

  And there, on the stairs, in the glow from the streetlight, was Vanessa.

  Kissing Brock.

  She was in her nightgown.

  His jacket was off and his shirt was unbuttoned.

  And it was pretty damn obvious that he’d been with her, up in her bedroom.

  “Wow,” Maggie said. “That was fast.”

  Her sister and the man who’d asked her to marry him just a few weeks ago—never mind the fact that she was intending to tell him no tomorrow—leaped apart.

  “God,” Vanessa said. “Maggie, you scared me to death.”

  Maggie turned on the light. Brock, at least, had the decency to look embarrassed.

  Vanessa, from the looks of things, was even more drunk than she was.