by Penny Jordan
‘No?’ Matt stopped her. ‘Look over there.’
Several yards away from them a couple were walking hand in hand together, obviously completely absorbed in one another. And not a particularly young couple either, Harriet noticed ruefully, as they stopped walking and the man bent to whisper something in the woman’s ear. Immediately she turned a radiant face towards him and he moved closer, kissing her tenderly.
For some reason the small intimate scene made Harriet’s eyes sting with tears.
‘That’s different,’ she said to Matt fiercely. ‘Anyone can see that they really do love one another.’
‘You mean because he did this?’ Matt challenged softly. And as Harriet turned automatically towards him he reached out with his free hand to cup her face, smoothing her skin with what had to be mock tender fingertips. Harriet could feel the warmth of his breath against her hair, the hard, sure maleness of his hand on her skin. A pulse was jumping frantically at the base of her throat, and her heart was racing to try and catch up with it.
No amount of will-power could stop her from turning her head towards him, green eyes clashing with molten grey. Harriet breathed in sharply and then exhaled on a jagged breath that parted her lips. She could almost feel the molten burn of Matt’s gaze on her mouth as he slowly bent his head.
Silently they looked at one another. Her mouth had gone dry, and try as she might she could not drag her gaze away. A sensuous shudder shook her body, and as though it was the signal he had been waiting for Matt covered her mouth with his own.
Was she really making that small, almost incoherent sound of aching pleasure? Was she really turning into the curve of his arm, his body, virtually encouraging him to tighten the intimacy of his hold on her? Shockingly, the mere touch of his lips suddenly became a hard and demanding pressure, and the kiss of passion suddenly overtook convention as his feelings overwhelmed him. As hers were overwhelming her, Harriett admitted dizzily as she returned the hungry pressure of his mouth and longed for the stabbing thrust of his tongue against her own. She wanted to stay like this forever, to feel like this forever. She wanted…
Harriet moaned a small feline protest as Matt softened the kiss and released her mouth.
Reluctantly she opened her eyes and realised where she was and what she was doing.
Wordlessly she looked away from Matt, fighting back over-emotional tears.
Starkly Matt looked at her averted face. Who had she been thinking of when she had returned his kiss with such fierce passion?
Did he really need to ask himself that question? he derided himself bitterly.
Grimly he tightened his grip on her hand, and then inclined his head in the direction of a small coffeeshop. ‘Would you like a coffee?’
‘What I’d like—’ Harriet began through gritted teeth, and then stopped as the outfit displayed in a nearby shop window caught her eye.
A pretty dress, soft and floaty, in delicately patterned silk, it was so beautiful it made her catch her breath. It shrieked that special brand of expensive simplicity and it was just the exact shade of cream that suited her to perfection! In fact it embodied everything she had ever craved in a dressy outfit, right down to the delicate shoes teamed with it. She knew without having to go anywhere near the window that it would probably have the kind of price tag that ran into more than she spent on her wardrobe in a whole year. Even so a small yearning sigh escaped her lips as she had a momentary vision of herself wearing it, with Matt looking adoringly and hungrily at her, and…
Matt frowned as he watched her. There was a rapt, dreamy expression on her face as she stared at the dress in a shop several yards away. A fragile, almost flimsy sort of dress, which would float distractingly around those luscious legs of hers.
Matt’s gaze became equally absorbed…
‘Excuse me—are you going to go into the coffeeshop? Only, if you aren’t…’
Harriet went pink as she realised that she and Matt were blocking the entrance to the café.
‘I’ve just remembered there’s a good wine bar right ’round the corner. It’s almost lunchtime—we’d be better going there and having something to eat.’
Harriet barely had time to blink before she was being whisked around the corner and down another marble floored walkway into a stylish and very busy wine bar, where Matt somehow managed to get them a table.
They had just given their order when Matt suddenly frowned and stood up. ‘I forgot. I need to go back to the cash dispenser. You wait here. I won’t be a minute.’
The wine bar certainly had a very glitzy clientele, Harriet conceded as she sipped her drink and waited for their food and Matt’s return. She didn’t normally come into this part of the city, preferring to spend her spare time in its parks and galleries.
Matt was taking rather longer than she had expected, but fortunately so was their food. Typically, as soon as the waiter appeared with their order, she saw Matt shouldering his way through the crowd by the wine bar door.
‘Sorry I was so long. There was a queue,’ he informed her as he sat down.
CHAPTER SIX
‘WE CAN’T go in here!’
Harriet held back as Matt reached out to ring the discreetly placed doorbell.
‘Why not?’ he demanded. ‘It’s a jewelers, isn’t it?’
‘It isn’t just a jewellers,’ Harriet hissed. ‘It’s the jewellers…’ But it was too late; a smartly suited young woman was opening the door for them and they were being ushered inside.
Even the quiet hum of the air-conditioning sounded expensive, Harriet reflected as she breathed in air scented with just a hint of some discreet perfume.
‘Good afternoon, sir, madam. How may we help you?’
‘We would like an engagement ring,’ Matt announced, squeezing Harriet’s hand in warning, as though he had anticipated that she might argue with him.
‘Ah… If you would care to come this way? We have a private room.’
The private room was bigger than her small living room, Harriet recognised as they were shown into their seats as carefully as though they were made of precious glass.
‘Do you have something special in mind?’ the assistant asked Harriet.
‘Er…no… Just something simple and small,’ Harriet replied uncomfortably.
Why on earth had Matt brought her in here? Even the teeniest chip of diamond they sold would cost the earth—she just knew it.
‘My fiancée prefers simple designs,’ she heard Matt saying suavely to the woman.
‘Perhaps a single stone ring, then? I’ll bring some to show you.’
When she came back and put down not a tray but a collection of boxes, each holding the kind of solitaire diamond ring that Harriet had only previously seen on the fingers of the mega-rich, she swallowed and blinked—and tried to keep her gaze averted from one particular ring, which glowed and shimmered and whispered a whole host of tempting things to her.
‘I…I thought something smaller…’ she said, her voice cracking. She looked down at the array in front of her and whispered, ‘Something much smaller.’
The sales assistant’s smile had started to dim, and Harriet could feel the grimness Matt was exuding.
‘I like this one!’ he announced peremptorily, his hand moving and unbelievably picking up the very ring Harriet had looked at.
‘Ah.’ The sales assistant’s sigh was pure liquid approval.
Harriet couldn’t help but agree as she looked at the oblong stone in its plain setting, so pure and white that the light dancing on it almost hurt her eyes.
‘An excellent choice, if I may say so. And a beautiful stone. Perhaps madam would like to try it on? The band is a little on the small side, but naturally it can be sized to fit her.’
Harriet prayed with all her strength that the ring would be too tight, that Matt would be forced to pick something else more modest—because she knew he wouldn’t want to leave the shop without a ring. But, even though she herself would have sworn that the ring wou
ld be too small for her, it slipped down her finger and settled there as snugly as though they had been made for one another.
‘Perfect.’ The sales assistant smiled.
‘We’ll have it,’ Matt announced.
Ten minutes later, after a celebratory glass of champagne, they were leaving the shop—with the ring.
Harriet barely waited for the door to be closed behind them before turning to Matt and bursting out, ‘I can’t wear that ring!’
‘Why not? Because Ben isn’t the one who is giving it to you?’ Matt shot back brusquely.
‘No!’ Harriet denied fiercely. ‘It has nothing to do with that!’
‘Then what has it to do with?’ Matt enquired sharply.
‘It’s far too expensive.’
‘Engagement rings are supposed to be expensive.’
‘No!’ Harriet corrected him emotionally. ‘Engagement rings are supposed to be a token of love and commitment. If I ever do wear one, those are the yardsticks I shall measure it by…not…not its financial value. But then it’s typical of men like you, Matt, that you should insist on picking something so expensive—a status symbol ring so that everyone can see how rich and powerful you are!’
Harriet knew that part of her furious outburst was fuelled by her own inner cocktail of volatile emotions. After all, she was in a false engagement to the man she had fought so hard to pretend she did not love, only to recognise instead how very, very much she did love him. It was an act which should have been filled with love and joy, but instead it had merely been a cold financial transaction, resulting in a physical ache deep inside, that gnawed unceasingly at her, and a growing resentment at being misjudged and condemned for a non-existent crime. For some reason Matt’s purchase of the ring symbolised for her the combined pain of all of those feelings.
Perilously close to tears, she started to walk away, gasping in protest as Matt’s hand shot out, his fingers curling around her wrist as he yanked her back towards him.
Her heart hit her ribs in one shocked beat when she saw how anger had turned his skin bone-white around the mouth, and frozen the grey of his eyes to silver.
‘No, Harriet, what’s typical of a man like me is that when I put my ring on the finger of the woman I love, I want the world to see that love reflected in it. And, more importantly, I want her to see that love, to know my love. To know that just as the ring is unique and beautiful, so to me is she. The purity of the stone reflects my belief in the purity of the love we share, untainted and unmarked by any past loves. I want her to see in its strength the strength of my love for her, and in its flashing fire the fierce heat of my passion for her. But more than anything else Harriet, I want her to look at the ring and know that what truly binds us to one another are bonds we ourselves have chosen—bonds that go way above and beyond any mere ring!’
Harriet couldn’t bear to speak. She felt as though her emotions had been cut to ribbons and were now so painfully raw that she felt sick with the agony of them.
Knowing that one day Matt would love someone just as he had described to her, and that that woman would not be her, had opened a door for her on a whole new world of pain.
‘Change the ring if you wish to do so,’ Matt said tersely. ‘It really doesn’t matter to me.’
But it did matter, he acknowledged inwardly. He had seen how Harriet’s gaze had been drawn to it, and crazily he had hoped…
‘Let’s get out of here,’ he said curtly. ‘I’ll—’ He started to frown as his mobile rang, and as she heard him talking Harriet recognised that his caller was one of his main clients.
‘I’ve got to go into the office,’ Matt told Harriet crisply when he had finished. ‘Jardines need the Mortlake site package we did for them retailored urgently.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Harriet offered immediately. He frowned again, so she added, ‘I worked on the original with Ben and Charlie.’
‘Okay… We’ll get a taxi—it will be quicker than getting the car,’ Matt said, and he hurried her towards the exit.
‘How much reworking do we have to do?’ Harriet asked as he hailed a cab.
Jardines was a large accountancy firm and Matthew Cole Ltd was designing their new head office.
‘Enough!’ was Matt’s unforthcoming reply as they got in the cab.
* * *
‘Dammit, this isn’t going to work!’
As she heard the frustration in Matt’s voice Harriet got up from her own terminal and walked across to his office and peered over his shoulder at his computer screen.
‘Look at this,’ Matt told her grimly, drawing her attention to one particular detail. ‘Jardines need this aspect, because it’s one of their trademark fixtures, but because of the extra meeting rooms they’ve asked to have included it just isn’t going to configure.’
Frowning, Harriet leaned closer, wholly absorbed in the complex problem on the screen. Her hair fell forward as she did so to brush against Matt’s hand.
‘I can see what you mean,’ she agreed, every bit of her attention focused on the screen as she peered at it and then drew back slightly. ‘I think—’ she began, and then stopped.
‘Yes?’ Matt encouraged her.
Harriet shook her head. ‘I don’t know if it will work, but maybe if you moved the main block to here and streamlined the add-ons, then perhaps you could turn the signature piece at an angle…’
‘Show me,’ Matt commanded, moving back so that she could get closer to the screen.
Matt had already suspected that she was one of the most proficient and innovative lateral thinkers on his team, and now she was proving it to him.
Quickly Harriet slid into the chair he had vacated. She had worked like this with other people a hundred thousand times—two heads close together over the screen, two bodies sharing the same small space meant for one as they worked to resolve a problem—but that kind of proximity had never affected her like this before. Now it breached her professionalism and distracted her from what she was doing, she admitted, as a sharp frisson of hot awareness heightened the effect of the adrenaline already rushing through her veins and her brain worked overtime to solve the problem in front of them.
Working under pressure like this always excited and energised her, and she felt a surge of professional pleasure as she showed Matt what she meant.
Tensely Matt watched her, quickly picking up on what she was trying to do and moving even closer to work with her.
‘Yes. Yes! That’s it! Harriet, you’ve done it!’ he exclaimed triumphantly. ‘And if we take this out of here, and add it on here…’
Harriet’s eyes widened appreciatively as Matt took up her thought process and ran with it, refining and honing it with skilled expertise.
‘We’ve got it. Got it!’ Matt exulted, standing up and drawing Harriet with him. ‘Good thinking, Harriet!’ he praised her, and then leaned forward and brushed her cheek with his lips in relieved appreciation.
‘I’m glad I was able to help,’ Harriet answered, her voice fading away as somehow her gaze became focused on his mouth and her heartbeat started to hammer.
She heard Matt mutter something under his breath, and in the next second she was in his arms, his mouth on hers.
Harriet heard herself moan as her lips parted and his tongue found hers. The high-voltage tension caused by the intensity at which they had been working must have caused Matt’s sudden explosion of passion, Harriet decided dizzily, as his tongue plunged deeper and his hands dropped to her hips, pulling her into his body.
Her own body’s swift recognition of his erection sent messages to her brain that had her wanting to explore it more intimately, to run her fingers over it, stroke it, savour it, feel the thick, full hardness of it naked beneath her touch.
A violent shudder racked her body and Matt groaned, his fingers kneading the rounded curves of her bottom, urging her even closer to him. The desk was only just behind her, and inside her head feverish images were already forming.
Matt moved
his hand, cupping her breast gently, plucking the pouting tightness of her nipple through her top and making her moan eagerly into his kiss.
He pulled her top out of the way, fiercely and urgently, as though he was as out of control as she felt, Harriet recognised weakly when he pushed aside the fabric of her bra and then lowered his mouth to her breast.
A thrill of primitive female pleasure engulfed her as Matt tugged passionately on her nipple. Her hands reached to clasp his head against her body whilst her body arched in immediate eager response.
The office’s muted hum was being overwhelmed by the unsteady sound of their ragged breathing and the hard suckle of Matt’s mouth on her breast—an erotic overture that heightened Harriet’s arousal and totally drowned any inner voice of caution as its siren call dragged her deeper and deeper into her need.
Outside, down below them, an ambulance siren suddenly wailed into clamouring life.
Immediately Matt released her and stepped back from her, his reactions far, far faster than her own. Her body was aching tormentedly, still clamouring for his touch whilst she struggled to make her trembling hands restore order to her clothes.
‘Harriet—Believe me, I never intended…’ She could hear Matt speaking grimly, his obvious and immediate rejection of what had happened forcing her to follow his example—for the sake of her pride if nothing else.
‘I… I…it doesn’t matter. There’s no need to make an issue of it,’ she said quickly, mortified by the thought that he might start to question just why she had responded to him so immediately and so intensely. ‘It wasn’t important, Matt. Sometimes these things happen when you’re working at high pressure.’
To her relief Matt had turned his back to her, and therefore he couldn’t see just how much he had actually affected her.
‘Do they indeed?’ There was an odd inflection in his voice, but before Harriet could question it he was continuing almost brusquely, ‘Look, it’s gone six o’clock. I’ll call you a cab and you can go back to the hotel and get ready for dinner. The table isn’t booked until eight. That will give me time to send this stuff off to Jardines, then get changed here and meet you at the hotel.’