Almost Naked, Inc.

by Karen Anders

  But seeing Matt now and remembering that breath-stealing kiss sent her hormones into an overwhelming frenzy of sexual longing. Her breasts swelled and tightened, her nipples tingled. She couldn’t help thinking that maybe, while she was in Cambridge, she could settle her curiosity and have her wicked way with him. There was something to be said for going slow.

  She’d had her share of lovers during her modeling career, but they couldn’t wipe out the memory of that kiss. She was suddenly wondering what it would feel like if she were skin-to-skin close to Matt.

  “Aunt Ida,” Bridget said, leaning closer to her aunt. “I didn’t know Matt was in Cambridge.”

  “He just moved back.”

  “I thought you said something about him working in North Carolina.”

  “He was. You’ll have to ask him the particulars. He’s a sweet boy. He cuts my grass for me. You two haven’t been back in the same neighborhood for a long time. I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “Yes, we do.” Bridget searched the crowd again for Matt.

  “I’m sorry we couldn’t make it to Australia this year, honey. The hospital needs me.”

  “I’m disappointed, but I understand being a nurse is very important to you, Aunt Ida. We’ve been to some wonderful places.”

  “Yes, but Australia can wait until next year. It’ll give me a full year to plan. Thank you for throwing this lavish party. You know you didn’t have to.”

  “I know that, but I wanted to. I’ll throw one for Mom when she turns fifty.”

  “You better not. She won’t even admit she’s in her forties.” Her aunt looked out over the crowd. “Look at her working the crowd. Your mother thrives on the limelight.”

  Bridget watched her mother talking to the mayor’s wife and gesturing more than once directly at her. Bridget could only imagine what she was telling the mayor’s wife about her high-fashion model daughter. And that feeling of euphoria wafted over her for her success and accomplishments. She’d parlayed her beauty into a successful career that afforded her all the best things in life. Money, beautiful clothes, fast cars, fast men—an exhilarating life moving at 180 mph.

  There was one niggling little doubt. The Richard Lawrence contract. She was counting on this lucrative job to power her into the big-time. With the promise of that contract and against her CPA’s warnings, she’d bought herself a beautiful Manhattan loft and almost bankrupted herself. But the money was as good as in her pocket.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw Matt. And she was once again bowled over by her sudden visceral reaction to him. He stood near a table alone as if he, too, were looking for an opportunity to talk to her.

  He seemed to loom larger than life, a gorgeous, sexy mass of brains and brawn. He cut a nice figure in his very proper open-necked dress shirt and sport coat, very professor-like. If she knew Matt, she was sure that’s exactly what he was going for. Matt always planned even the minutest detail. Every line of his body projected a calm, cool, collected attitude as if he observed everything from afar and analyzed it behind those warm, intelligent eyes.

  “Aunt Ida, could you excuse me?”

  “Certainly, but you’d better get back here to help me blow out the candles before they set off the sprinkler alarm.”

  Bridget chuckled and gave her aunt a quick hug. “Happy birthday, Aunt Ida. You’re not getting older, you’re getting better.”

  “Ah, posh. Better than what?”

  Bridget moved away from the table flashing her aunt a grin. She searched the crowd again and then she saw Matt. Even though she’d been blindsided at the limo, all the air rushed out of her lungs once again. Something unspoken passed between them when his eyes met hers, reminiscent of the stunned few moments before her mother came pounding down the stairs and ruined everything on that fateful day.

  Yet when she met his eyes, she experienced the same intense feelings filling up her chest. She could almost feel his mouth on hers, his warm breath, the contours of his body pressed to hers. She really couldn’t leave here until she experienced all that Matt had to offer.

  Matt moved away from the table and started toward her. Riveted to the floor, she was thankful he was coming to her. She wasn’t sure how well her legs would hold up. When he reached her where she stood in the middle of the room, he smiled in such a sweet, adorable way, she melted inside.

  “Matthew Fox, you’ve grown up,” she said, reaching out her hands. He took her hands in his, surprising her by kissing the back of her hands, his fine, full lips moving across her knuckles. She shivered.

  “Looks like you’ve gotten everything you dreamed of,” he said.

  “I did. Did you?”

  “Almost. I’ve landed a research professorship at MIT at the Fibers and Polymers Laboratory in the Department of Mechanical Engineering, but I’m angling for a tenure track position there.”

  “To do what?”

  “Teach in my field, textile engineering.”

  “Textile engineering? Like in clothing?”

  “Yes.”

  “I see. So you said you were a research professor. What do you research?”

  “Synthesis and development of novel barrier materials including copolymers, inorganic-organic nanocomposites and electrostatic nanolayer assemblies. I also create mathematical modeling of transport phenomena in complex protective clothing ensembles.”

  “Whoa. Beyond my understanding.”

  “Sorry. I study ways to make protective clothing safer.”

  “Does all that technical jargon mean you make cloth?”

  “I hold a lot of patents for uses in many applications and just recently I’ve stumbled across a synthetic cloth that’s lightweight, durable and really soft.”

  “I’d really like to see it sometime.”

  “Sure. I’m not really sure what I’m going to do with it at this point. I want it to be useful. How long are you going to be in Cambridge? Do you have time to catch up with an old friend?”

  “I’ve got to get back to New York tomorrow for a shoot, but I could come over after Aunt Ida’s party for a little while if you like.”

  “That would be great.”

  “MIT. Your parents must be so proud of you.”

  He shrugged and smiled. “Sure, I guess.”

  The humbleness of his answer surprised her. In the wake of all his achievements, she’d expected that maybe Matt had changed. But looking up into those warm eyes, she could see that Matt had stayed true to himself in the years they’d been away from each other. Could she say the same thing about herself?

  “How are your parents?”

  “My folks sold me the house and moved to Arizona to help with my mom’s arthritis. You know, the dry heat and all.”

  “Bridget.” Her mother appeared, her eyes darting to Matt. “There you are. I want you to meet the mayor’s wife. She’s just dying to hear about your latest trip to Paris.” She turned her focus on Matt. “You will excuse us,” she said and she didn’t wait for his answer.

  It felt like déjà vu all over again as her mother pulled her away from Matt and toward the mayor’s wife. A frisson of impatience at her mother’s highhandedness rippled through her before she squashed it. Her mother had been the driving force to get her where she was today. She should be grateful. Besides, the Paris fashions were to die for.

  She gave Matt an apologetic look. I’ll see you tonight, she mouthed.

  He nodded and that intangible electricity flowed over her like mist. She intended to see, feel and taste all of him and settle once and for all her burning curiosity to find out just how it would be to make love to Dr. Matthew Fox.

  2

  HE SIMPLY FELT DAZZLED as he watched Bridget move away from him. He rolled his shoulders in the sport coat and retreated from the center of the floor. There had been so many times when he’d stared down at her picture on the cover of a magazine. He’d never expected to be this close to her again.

  He stood on the fringes of the ballroom where he
felt secure watching the people socialize and party.“Why aren’t you out there, Matt?”

  He turned to find Bridget’s aunt standing next to him. She offered him a flute of champagne.

  “I feel more comfortable here, Mrs. Jenkins.”

  “When are you going to stop calling me Mrs. Jenkins, Matt? It would seem after living next door for so long and being friends with Bridget you could call me Aunt Ida. If you don’t, I’m going to start calling you Dr. Fox.”

  Matt’s chest swelled as he accepted the flute of champagne and chuckled. “You leave me no choice, Aunt Ida.”

  “That’s better.”

  “Bridget looks good. Happy.”

  “I suspect she is, but I’m worried about her. She travels so much, parties with her New York friends and spends her money so lavishly. I had no need of this grand party, but she insisted.”

  “You deserve one grand party, Mrs…. Aunt Ida, after all the good things you did for her. She didn’t forget about you.”

  “Comes from good stock.” Aunt Ida smiled, but she watched her niece with an anxious eye. “I wouldn’t protest if it was only one grand party, but she’s taken me and her mother to Milan, Paris and even Tokyo. That was a wonderful trip. I do have to thank her for showing me some of the world.”

  “I don’t think you should worry. She looks like she’s at the top of her game.”

  “That’s Bridget for you.”

  “Her mother hasn’t changed much.” Matt winced. “Sorry, that was out of line.”

  “No, you’re correct. Her mother is caught up with what Bridget does, not who she is.”

  “Do you think that’ll ever change?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe someday.” Her aunt smiled at Matt. “Bridget’s asked about you over the years, but first you were at Auburn for college, then you settled in North Carolina. It’s very good that you’ve finally come home.”

  “It feels really good to be home.”

  He took a sip of champagne and watched Bridget mingle with one guest after another while listening to Aunt Ida expound on her trips with Bridget. Finally her mother took her aside and it appeared to Matt as if they were arguing.

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE that you’ll only be here one more night and you won’t come home. Your father misses you.” The soft whine in her mother’s voice surprised Bridget. It wasn’t often she was asked to stay with her parents when she was in town. In fact, her mother preferred that Bridget stay with her aunt.

  Bridget kept her comments about her father to herself. He was her stepfather and her mother had married him when Bridget had been two. Her biological father had been killed in a car accident.The truth was her stepfather barely noticed she was alive. He was a Harvard professor and spent all his time with his students and his research. Her mother hated it, but would never admit it to Bridget. She’d had to plead to get him to come to her sister’s party tonight.

  “I’d like your company, then I can give you a ride to the airport tomorrow.” Her mother beseeched her with her eyes. It was very odd.

  “Is there something wrong?” Bridget asked. They never talked about her mother’s marriage. Her mother covered up her unhappiness and Bridget was sure that was why her mother preferred her to stay at her aunt’s house.

  “No. Why would there be something wrong?”

  “Because you’re acting strange.”

  Her mother huffed. “Now, I’m strange.”

  “I didn’t say you were strange. I said…never mind. I told you that I promised Matt I would catch up with him, Mom.”

  “Some boy you haven’t seen in twelve years is more important than your family? I’m your mother, Bridget.”

  Guilt cut through her. It was true. She hadn’t spent a lot of time with her mother this year. “I’ll come home with you tonight. I’ll have to tell Matt. Excuse me.”

  She found him standing close to the kitchen door talking to one of the busboys who had been clearing the tables.

  She only caught the tail end of the conversation and overheard the name David Backer as the boy took one look at her and hightailed it back to the kitchen.

  Matt turned toward her. “You scared him off.”

  “I’m not that scary.”

  “Yes, you are. Scary beautiful, so that any man has to get up his courage just to look at you, let alone talk to you.”

  “You’re talking to me.”

  “I’m immune. I knew you when you were a bratty kid and a petulant teenager.”

  “I wasn’t petulant.”

  “You were, too. Petulant, mischievous, reckless and a rule breaker of the highest order.”

  “And you were none of those things. Solid, smart and reserved. Leave it to you to ignore champagne, caviar and a jamming DJ to talk to a kid about David Backer. Who is he?”

  “David Backer or the guy I was talking to?”

  “Both.”

  “David Backer founded the lab I work in and the kid is a student in one of my summer classes at MIT. He’s working here to make money to go back to school in the fall.”

  Bridget shook her head in resignation. “Let’s go on the patio,” she said, slipping her arm through his. “They have a beautiful garden here. Almost as beautiful as my mother’s.”

  They passed through the open French doors. The cooling breeze of the early summer night touched her shoulders and made her shiver slightly. Matt immediately took off his sport coat and draped the fabric across her shoulders. His hands lingered there, making her shiver all over again as a response to the warmth of his jacket and the pressure of his hands. He was a solid presence at her back and so tall. As kids, she’d been taller than him for the longest time. Then, when he’d been thirteen, he’d started to grow and surpassed her in no time. It was the same year he’d begun to lift weights. He was sick of being pushed around by guys who thought he was easy pickings.

  “You’re here to tell me that you can’t come over tonight. Break bad news surrounded by beauty. Good call.”

  Matt was so damn smart that it intimidated her sometimes. “My mother insists I go home with her and have some family time and I wanted a private place to tell you. If I remember correctly, parties are not your forte.”

  “Is she still running your life?”

  Bridget turned to face him. “That’s not very fair, Matt. She helped me get to where I am.”

  He gently guided her away from the French doors and down the steps into a shadowed courtyard. “Look, I’m sorry. Residual resentment. That was out of line. She doesn’t like me. She never did.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Do you have any idea how many times I called you that whole year after your party?”

  “You called my house?”

  “Countless times. Your mother told me you were busy or not at home. I gave up.”

  “She never told me you called. Not once. I thought you regretted…”

  Matt didn’t respond immediately as he stared down into her face. No, stared isn’t the right word, she mused. She felt more as if he was studying her. Matt’s dark, exotic eyes sent chills through her. Observant was the word that came to mind. He seemed to be investigating every angle and plane of her face as if she were a very interesting science project.

  The birds and the bees kind of science project.

  “Never.” His voice was rough and achingly raw. “I’ll admit that after that great kiss, our relationship had to change, but not once did I regret knowing you, Bridget.”

  She met his intense gaze head-on, got lost in the swirling brown of his eyes, the tipped corners. She reached out and touched the tantalizing curve of one eye.

  “I’m so thankful because your opinion means a great deal to me, mister.”

  She took his hand and led him over to a stone bench set near bottle-green hedgerows. The smell of night blooming jasmine permeated the air with a subtle scent. A perfect setting for a tête-à-tête.

  “So tell me about your life in New York. Is it what you expected when you were dreaming a
bout modeling and I tried to focus attention on your math problems?”

  “I had to work really, really hard.”

  Matt laughed. “So it is a myth that models just stand around and look pretty.”

  “A big one. Sometimes I go through a grueling eight-hour day, have to run home, change and zip off to a nightclub opening or an editorial bash a magazine is throwing. Everything at the agency is managed, from my bookings to my social life. It can get exhausting.”

  “But I see in your eyes that you love it.”

  “I do. The attention is fun, especially when people recognize me and say hi. I covet the clothes and love the glamour. Oh, and the money is phenomenal.”

  “That’s clear from this bash. It looks like you brought New York to Cambridge.”

  “I booked the hottest club disc jockey in New York. That was no easy feat. I had to call in a few favors. My mother helped with the food and decorations. She’s very good at throwing a party. Now, how about you Dr. Fox? Making cloth. That excites me.”

  “It excited me, too. I was trying to make a synthetic fiber to be useful in maybe sports or the military and ended up with this delicately spun stuff. Almost like silk, but more durable and really soft.”

  “I’ve got to see this cloth. Aunt Ida said you went to Auburn. Did you get your Ph.D. there, too?”

  “My masters and Ph.D.”

  “I couldn’t imagine that, Matt. I never got to college. I feel odd sometimes since so many models manage to do both, but I was focused and intent on my career, never doubting that I would make it.”

  “You were always that kind of person. Saw what you wanted and went for it.”

  “Truth or dare, Matt.”

  “Truth. The last time you dared me, I got myself into hot, hot water.”

  “You really don’t understand this game. Truth can do that, too.”

  “I considered the possibility, but truth doesn’t require some embarrassing action.”