Molly Matthews Meddles in Marriage

by Jill Steeples

  Undeterred, she went on.

  “Every time I mention a possible date, you brush it aside as if it’s of no importance. It makes me wonder if you’re ready for this, whether it’s what you really want. Or whether you’re here for other, more pragmatic reasons.”

  He didn’t answer immediately, he just continued watching her, his hands clasped together on the top of the chair, his head nodding imperceptibly. The silence sizzled between them and Molly willed him to say something, anything.

  For a moment, she wondered if she’d offended him or perhaps, more likely, he wasn’t used to people questioning his behavior. His face took on a bemused expression.

  “What other possible reasons might I have for coming here?” he said, finally.

  “I don’t know.” She gave a small shrug. “People sometimes do the wrong things for the right reasons, trying to fulfill someone else’s expectations? It’s obvious your public image had taken a battering, maybe your sole focus is on repairing that”—she paused, looking into his eyes—“when it shouldn’t be really. Not if you’re serious about finding your soul mate. Is that why you’re here, because you think a wife will somehow benefit your career? I hope not,” she added quietly, wondering if she’d imagined Rory wincing at her words. “As I said, it could be one of any number of reasons. Some people come when they are still exploring their sexuality.”

  Rory laughed, spluttering on his words.

  “You think I’m gay?” He leaned back on the chair, his eyes growing wide.

  “No, I didn’t say that.” If there was one thing she was absolutely certain on, it was that. His whole being bristled with barely contained masculine sexuality, the atmosphere between them charged with electricity. “It’s just important that you’re totally honest with yourself as to why you’re here. Otherwise you’re wasting not only your own time, but my time too.”

  Rory rubbed his finger behind his ear, observing her thoughtfully.

  “Well, I would hate to think I was wasting your time, Molly.” He smiled, but the sarcasm dripped off his tongue.

  “Please, don’t twist my words. You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?”

  “I do understand. Completely. You want to see evidence of my commitment. What was it you said? Some excitement and hope. Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of both.”

  Okay, so he’d completely ballsed that one up. He liked to pride himself on being a good actor, but he couldn’t even convince Molly that he was serious about wanting to find a bride. Which he was. Or at least he had been until the moment when Molly had waltzed into his life.

  Clearly a woman of conviction and passion and integrity, it was evident she was wholly committed to her business and to her clients and there was something about her single-mindedness that Rory found extremely attractive.

  That and the fact that she was unlike the flirty and frivolous women who mainly inhabited his world, that was intriguing in itself.

  Tonight she was wearing a black pencil skirt and a floaty cream blouse that definitely suggested business but Rory could see beyond the professional exterior to the inherent femininity lying within. She reminded him of a flower about to blossom, she just needed some help in teasing open those tightly cupped petals.

  He sighed. That was his trouble. Molly had become far too much of a distraction. How could he even think about meeting a woman, a life partner more to the point, when the woman in front of him was so delightfully distracting? He shifted in his seat, a dangerous longing stirring deep within his bones. Maybe he should just say to hell with it and whisk Molly off into the sunset. That would save them both a whole heap of problems and it would be no great hardship as far as he was concerned.

  Opposite him, she’d folded her arms to match her crossed legs, her brow adopting a similarly fierce expression. She was clearly unimpressed by his assertion that he was full of hope and excitement. But he was. Suddenly. Sitting here with her. And it was a revelation that there was no other place he would rather be. After meeting Theo he could quite easily have sloped off home, but he’d had an overwhelming urge to get to the dinner party. However late. And that urge hadn’t come from wanting to have dinner with a whole bunch of strangers. No, what drove him to get here was the thought of seeing Molly again. To hear her voice and to see her smile. Because she did smile occasionally when she wasn’t reprimanding him with a scowl. And he wasn’t sure how she’d managed it, but this woman was definitely getting beneath his skin.

  “So, was it a successful evening?” he asked, hoping she’d forgiven him by now.

  “Yes, it was,” she said, clasping her hands together in front of her. “It was a shame you missed it because there were a couple of ladies I wanted you to meet. You would have got on well with them. Not to worry, though, I’ll arrange for you to meet them some other time.”

  He nodded, distracted by the open neckline of her shirt. There was no hint of cleavage, no jewelry, just a tantalizing glimpse of long, toned neck. The thought of running his hand along its length filled him with desire. He shook away the thoughts.

  “Great!” he said, realizing she was waiting for some kind of response.

  “You see, Rory, there you go again.”

  “What?” With supreme effort, he dragged his gaze from the mesmerizing sight of her neckline to focus on her equally hypnotic eyes.

  “Sounding distinctly underwhelmed as soon as I mention a possible date.”

  “Molly, I’m finding it difficult to even think about dating when I’m sitting here with you. Somehow it seems disloyal.” A lazy smile spread across his face. “Perhaps us going on a date together isn’t such a bad idea after all.”

  She sprang out of her chair, shaking her head with despair.

  “This is hopeless, Rory. This isn’t about us, so would you please stop suggesting that it is. It’s not helping matters at all.” She turned to face him, her hands low on her hips, the curve of her breasts highlighted through the sheer fabric of her blouse. “And for your information, there’s no way I would date any of my clients as a matter of principle.”

  “Hmm, just my luck, a woman of principle.”

  “This is just one big joke for you, isn’t it? I’m sorry, Rory, I was wrong. I don’t think I can help you after all. I suggest you find another agency to help you in your search.”

  “Oh, come on, Molly. I was only teasing. Besides, I thought we had a deal. You said you’d be able to find me a bride in time for the film premiere. Don’t tell me you’re going back on your promise?”

  She sighed and he saw the exasperation in the set of her shoulders, the weariness in her eyes. A twinge of guilt pricked at his conscience.

  “I’ve had my doubts about your commitment to this process from the moment I met you. I’m not convinced you really want to do this or that your motives for finding a partner are genuine. I’m sorry, Rory, but nothing that you’ve told me has dissuaded me otherwise.”

  “You can’t dump me, Molly. Now that would be a first! Just think how humiliating it would be? To be rejected by a marriage bureau before I’ve even had a chance to meet any of the women clients.” He grinned, holding out an arm, beckoning her to come and sit down again. His instinct was to take her in his arms and make everything better with a kiss, a long, slow passionate kiss, to feel her body yield beneath his touch, but he knew he was treading on dangerous ground even considering such a thing.

  “Okay.” He took a deep breath. “I do really want to do this. I suppose it must seem strange, but the truth is I need your help in meeting some women outside of the industry. I’ve had my fill of models and actresses. They’re high maintenance with egos bigger than mine, and that’s saying something.”

  She gave him a rueful smile and he fancied there was a speckle of forgiveness in those warm brown eyes.

  “The last two women I’ve been out with have done real hatchet jobs on me in press. Kiss-and-tells. That’s the way it goes.” He shrugged. “I suppose I want to meet somebody I can really trust. Someone who wants
to be with me for who I am, not someone who has an ulterior motive, who thinks I might be able to do wonders for their career.”

  He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs, his hands clasped together. His mop of glossy brown hair fell over his face and he looked up at her, casually brushing it away from his face.

  “It’s not easy having a relationship in this business. I should know. My dad was a jobbing musician and my mum was a top model so I saw first-hand the effects it can have on a marriage. It didn’t help that they were both the most fiery people you could ever meet, but that’s beside the point.”

  He laughed and their eyes locked together in a moment of mutual understanding.

  “They were wildly in love, but my dad was away a lot of the time and when he was at home, they spent most of their time screaming at each other. I think my mum felt frustrated at being left behind. Her career was over and well, I think she found that really hard. Being stuck at home with only me for company.”

  Molly dropped her head to one side, her expression softening.

  “That must have been difficult. Did they manage to sort things out?”

  “Nope. Not really. Mum died when I was fourteen. The drink got to her in the end. She’d had a problem for years. Dad never really got over it.”

  “I’m sorry, that’s very sad.”

  Rory shrugged ruefully, the faintest of smiles resting on his lips.

  “I’m not after your sympathy, Molly. All I’m saying is I couldn’t cope with a marriage like that. All that drama. I’m looking for a bit of peace and quiet in my home life. It’s not something I’ve had any experience of. That’s why I’ve come to you, Molly. For your help. Left to my own devices, I’ll probably end up repeating the mistakes of my parents.” Already he was drinking far too much than was good for him.

  “I see.”

  He noticed the small pools of heat staining her cheeks. “So does our deal still stand?”

  “Yes, of course. I’m sorry.”

  “You’ve nothing to apologize for.” He smiled. “I’m yours to do with me what you will.” He paused, his gaze resting on hers. “Let all your wonderful women at me.”

  She shook her head, returning the smile.

  “Good, although I’m hoping you won’t need to go through the entire list of women on my books. Let’s start with a couple of dates to begin with and then we can move forward from there.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Rory stood and made for the door. “I promise to be your perfect client from now on. I’m going on all the dates you fix up for me. Any future networking events, put my name down. I’ll be there.” He turned to face her. “Listen, I should make a move. I’ve kept you far too long as it is. Do you want to share a cab home?”

  “No, my car’s outside. Thanks for turning up, Rory. I appreciate it. I’ll give you a call in the next few days.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.” His gaze swept the length of her body, soaking up every detail of her beautiful face, consigning them to his memory, so he’d be able to recall each and every one of them for later. He leaned across, leaving the faintest of kisses on her cheek. That sweet smell of vanilla taunted his nostrils again. It took all his resolve not to scoop her up in in his arms and shower her with a thousand more kisses.

  Chapter Five

  The front-door buzzer beeped intrusively, making Molly jump in her skin, causing her to knock her handbag off the arm of the chair in the process. Nerves had been getting the better of her all day. The memory of that supposedly innocuous kiss they’d shared had been running riot in her mind.

  “Taxi for Miss Matthews,” came a distorted voice through the intercom. She scooped up the contents of her bag, stuffing them back in hurriedly, held her hands up in dismay at her reflection in the mirror and wondered how, as she dashed down the stairs, Rory was calling the shots once again.

  She hadn’t seen him since their late-night heart-to-heart six weeks ago when he’d professed to being a new man. Admittedly, he’d had six dates since then, but Molly sensed she wasn’t any further forward in finding Rory’s perfect woman. She’d been trying to get him into the office for a review meeting, but Rory could be an elusive man when he wanted to be.

  “Sorry, Molls,” he’d said down the phone, “I’m not being deliberately evasive, it’s just that work is manic at the moment. I’ve been in rehearsals for a new stage production we’re taking on tour soon and then I’ve been shooting the final scenes of that action film I told you about. There’s been a lot of other stuff on as well, publicity, interviews etc. that have taken up a lot of time too.”

  Molly could only sigh at the other end of the phone. How could he manage to make manic sound so desperately glamorous? Her idea of manic was working twelve-hour days, the washing machine flooding the kitchen, the car breaking down and meeting her mum and her sister for dinner, all in the same week!

  And she couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it was that he’d started calling her Molls, but it was far too late to say anything about it now. The only other person to call her by that name was her dad and from Rory’s lips it sounded affectionate, caressing and way too familiar. Like molten molasses spreading through her veins.

  “I’ll send a car and we can meet at my friend’s place in Soho. It’s very quiet and intimate, it’ll be the perfect place to chat. That okay with you?” he added as an afterthought.

  The taxi pulled up in the bustling Soho street and her heart fluttered at the dawning realization of where she was.

  She might have guessed that the friend’s quiet little place would turn out to be nothing of the sort, but instead the only three Michelin star restaurant in town belonging to the celebrated Marco Faro.

  She gulped as she was whisked through the side entrance and ushered in past the cloakrooms, the noise and general hubbub of the restaurant making for a friendly welcome. She peered through the back curtain, her gaze scanning the entire room. Most of the tables were filled and the staff bustled around the room, attentive yet discreet, the overall ambience one of relaxed sophistication. She had to pinch herself to believe she was actually here. But if Rory thought they’d be having a cozy chat here, away from prying eyes, he was very much mistaken.

  “This way please, Miss Matthews.” As if answering her unspoken question, a waiter directed her away from the main restaurant and into a small back room where Rory was already waiting.

  “Molls, how lovely to see you! You look fabulous,” he said, giving her an appreciative once-over. He took both her hands in his and kissed her on either cheek, the highly charged intensity of their previous exchange missing from this friendly greeting. Much to Molly’s relief. “Dinner for two,” he said, indicating to the solitary table in the room. “What do you think?”

  “Oh wow!” The words slipped out before she could remember she was aiming for cool and professional and totally in control this evening. They were all way beyond her reach now.

  She stood in awe, turning slowly to take in every aspect of the beautifully decorated room. It was like a Moroccan Bedouin tent, with low-slung cushions in rich velvet and satin fabrics dotted around the room in hues of red and purples with matching drapes flowing in luxurious folds from the corners of the room. Gold lanterns delivered a soft ambient light and in the middle was the circular table adorned by a bronze embroidered cloth, a collection of small candles flickering in the center. It was in complete contrast to the sleek minimalism of the main restaurant.

  “It’s stunning,” she said, truthfully. “But how…?” The words slipped away from her.

  “I told you, Marco’s a good friend of mine. And when you mentioned you were a big fan of his, I thought what better place to bring you.”

  A thrill of exhilaration ran through her body. The idea that Rory had arranged all of this for her was overwhelmingly exciting. And totally inappropriate. How could she be expected to do her job properly when he was landing these sorts of surprises on her?

  An open bottle of wine stood on the table and Mol
ly watched as Rory deftly filled two glasses before handing her one. He gestured for her to sit.

  “You would never think this little oasis would be hiding at the back of this restaurant, would you? They use it for private functions, intimate dinners, that kind of thing. Apparently a dozen or so marriage proposals have been made here.”

  “Really?” It came out as a squeak. “How romantic!” She remembered when Paul had proposed to her. Well, it hadn’t been so much a proposal as a casual statement of intent. There’d been no candlelit dinner or bending down on one knee. They’d been at the wedding of some friends and had just collapsed back into their seats after a drunken stumble through the conga when he’d turned to her and said, “I suppose we ought to think about doing this some time.” And that had been it. Feeling deflated and ridiculously excited in equal measure, she’d simply smiled and nodded her assent.

  Now, all memories of Paul were quickly banished as she looked across at Rory, her body reacting treacherously, the small trickle of desire drip-feeding her system, growing stronger by the moment. In a gray silk suit and a pristine white shirt, the top button opened to reveal just the faintest glimpse of bronzed skin, he looked breathtakingly gorgeous. She had to drag her eyes away or else she could easily have sat there all night long, open-mouthed, simply gazing at his beauty.

  Focus, she reprimanded herself. Proposals of marriage and Rory. No wonder she was distracted. She needed to concentrate on the job in hand. The trouble was concentrating and being with Rory seemed to be mutually exclusive activities.

  She shifted in her seat, took a sip from her wine then delved into her bag, pulling out a folder. Turning to the relevant page, she addressed her client.

  “Well, this is lovely. Thank you for bringing me here, it’s a proper treat, but I suppose we ought to get down to business,” she said with a smile. “You’ve been on six dates now with six different people. How do you feel it’s been going?”

  He picked up his wine flute, leaned back in his chair and sipped from the glass. All the time his gaze was fixed upon her, his deliciously intense blue eyes glinting with mischievous intent, a lazy smile spread wide across his face. She knew him well enough by now to realize that he wasn’t about to make this easy.