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Authors: Kim Lawrence

The Prospective Wife (18 page)

BOOK: The Prospective Wife
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Her teeth closed around his earlobe. ‘I won’t break,’ she promised, sensing the restraint in him and wanting to break it.

It did break, and all heaven broke loose.

Lying in the curve of his arm a little later, she sighed and opened one eye.

‘You were right. It was worth the wait.’

 
CHAPTER EIGHT
 

KAT saw the envelope and put down the loaded tea tray she’d been about to take back to the kitchen. Fortunately the strain that had developed between herself and the rest of the staff once it had become obvious her relationship with Matt had strayed beyond the professional—a situation that Matt was inclined to flaunt, not disguise—had started to thaw.

Perching on the arm of a chair, she opened the envelope with her name emblazoned in Matt’s bold semi-illegible scrawl across the front, and peered into it curiously. Had Matt been watching, he’d have seen the colour fade dramatically from her cheeks.

There was a tremor in her fingers as she turned it upside down. The fat wad of notes fluttered out; a faint breeze from the open French doors sent them swirling across the room. ‘What’s this?’

Matt didn’t lift his eyes from the report he was skimming through. ‘Damned idiots…’ he muttered. ‘What was that?’ he added vaguely. Fleetingly, his glance flickered over her still figure. ‘Oh, it’s your salary,’ he announced negligently.

As he watched she lifted one pretty foot and deliberately ground a note of large denomination into the carpet. He repressed a groan as she levelled her belligerent eyes at his face. He set the report aside.

Matt Devlin didn’t put work aside for women, he didn’t consider he was particularly ruthless or selfish, it just wasn’t him. The women he dated knew what his priorities were, if they didn’t like it they didn’t have to stick around.

Kat remained oblivious to the significance of his action but Matt didn’t, it was just another symptom in a long line of similar glaringly obvious shifts in his attitude over the past days. He had been aware all week that his feelings for Kathleen went beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. The sex was great of course—the best—but it was way more than that…his eyes softened as they swept over her angry figure. It was hard to imagine his life without her around.

He picked up a note that had fallen onto the arm of a chintzy chair. ‘What’s wrong, did I miscalculate?’

She flinched as though he’d struck her and, chin held high, drew herself up to her full height, which was still a good ten inches short of his. She still managed to give the impression she was looking down at him from a great height.

Kathleen had a remarkably expressive face. He’d got pretty good at reading her expression, it often gave him pleasure to do so.

A freeze frame image of her face flashed before his eyes. Her skin was glistening damp, her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted, she was crying his name, it was a wild, abandoned, exultant sound.

The image was so strong that his body responded lustfully to the stimulus and for a moment he was back in the privacy of the bedroom.

It was reluctantly that he released the memory and faced up to the less pleasurable present. The expression on her face at that moment wasn’t one of the most enjoyable to translate; it came out as something close to, You low, loathsome worm! Even if something had been lost in translation, this definitely wasn’t the sort of look to warm a man on a cold night!

‘How dare you?’
she breathed wrathfully.

‘This is about the money…right…?’

His laconic drawl whipped her wrath and mortification to even greater heights. She stepped forward, snatched the note from his fingers and ripped it up to confetti size before she flung it in his face. How could anyone be so insensitive?

‘There!’ she cried, wiping a tear of anger and disillusionment from her face. ‘That’s what I think of you and your money. Are you
trying
to insult me?’ she wondered querulously. ‘What’s perfectly obvious is you have no respect for me whatever.’

He shook his glossy dark head and wondered whether he’d walked into this conversation somewhere in the middle.

‘I know I’m being stupid and slow, but could you explain what I’ve done to make you so mad?’

‘You paid me!’
she wailed.

‘You work; you get paid. That’s fairly normal working practice.’

‘Don’t patronise me!’

‘For God’s sake, woman, will you stop the magical mystery tour and just tell me what the problem is?’

‘Leaving aside the fact I’m not due to be paid until the end of the month, the problem,’ she drawled, allowing her embittered gaze to sweep disparagingly over his tall, impossibly attractive figure, ‘is I’m a bit unsure as to which part of my duties you’re paying me for?’

He finally realised what she was driving at. Matt’s patience and understanding went up in a puff of smoke—you could almost hear the crackle as the flame caught hold—and even in the midst of her disillusioned anger Kat couldn’t help but appreciate he looked pretty damned spectacular when he lost it.

‘Just what exactly are you saying?’ The look he shot her was pure menace.

Kat wasn’t in the mood to be intimidated; she was in the mood for a fight. She’d been fool enough to think their relationship had begun to mean more to him than a shallow sexual liaison. He didn’t speak of love, but his actions were loving—or was she seeing things that weren’t there because she wanted to? No! They didn’t just make love, they talked, sometimes late into the night; they talked of everything under the sun, and Kat remembered every precious syllable. Now he’d spoilt it all with some cheap trick like this.

‘I’m wondering what sort of man sleeps with a woman and then pays her money. Hell!’ Her scornful laughter rang out liltingly. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t leave it on the pillow! Isn’t that the usual form?’ At this point, she noticed in an objective sort of way that he looked murderously furious. ‘I’ll have you know I’m not a commodity to be bought and sold as and when it suits you.’ With a scornful gesture she turned her back on him.

He caught her upper arm and swung her around.

‘My God,’ he rasped, ‘you don’t rate yourself very highly—or, for that matter, me!’

‘Let me go!’ Kat felt the tears begin to trickle slowly down her face. Rather than let him see them, see how much he’d hurt her, she kept her pink-tipped nose pointed at the floor.

‘Look at me, Kathleen.’

Matt cupped his hand around her chin when it became perfectly obvious she was going to do nothing of the sort. His self-righteous anger couldn’t withstand the abject misery on her tear-stained face; all of a sudden all he wanted to do was kiss her tremulous lips.

‘If I’m guilty of anything, angel,’ he said throatily, ‘it’s of not thinking. And if you’re guilty of anything…’

Despite everything Kat’s lips quivered in amusement. ‘Have you ever in your life made an apology without qualifying it?’

He had the grace to look sheepish. ‘Listen, I know your salary was supposed to be paid into your bank account at the end of the month, but I’ve been getting the impression your mysterious financial problems—’

‘They’re not mysterious!’ It wasn’t until she heard the defensive sharpness in her voice that Kat realised how deeply ingrained the habit of playing down her money problems had actually become.

She’d not consciously withheld the information, but she did feel very protective of her mother’s memory; it seemed disloyal to go bad-mouthing her when she wasn’t here to defend herself.

‘I’m not fishing for information,’ he responded in a soothing manner.

Of course, it would be nice if she felt she could confide in him! That she trusted him enough. It was getting hard to ignore the fact that every time an opportunity arose for her to explain she neatly side-stepped the issue.

‘I just got the idea that things were urgent.’

Matt wasn’t used to being around women who stubbornly insisted on paying their way; what had started out seeming charming and sweet was fast becoming irritating. It was hard not to feel insulted, especially when she threw a gift he’d taken a lot of care choosing back in his face!

‘Very nice. But I couldn’t possibly…’
Had been her starchy response when he’d presented her with a string of antique pearls.

‘I don’t like to see you looking worried.’

The sincerity the gruffness of his explanation couldn’t disguise affected Kat more deeply than a thousand flowery sentiments.

‘Oh! That’s…lovely.’ She felt the last dregs of her animosity disintegrate.

‘Life’s going to be a lot simpler around here if we keep our personal and professional lives separate…’

Kat stopped mid-sniff, her eyes widening with incredulity; she was constantly amazed by Matt’s ability to reconstruct events to suit his purposes.

‘Separate? Like when I was trying to give you your massage yesterday?’ she enquired innocently.

A few hours each day spent outdoors and Matt’s pallor had been replaced by the beginnings of healthy-looking tan. That glow grew a little deeper now, under her quizzical stare. A slash of colour appeared across the crest of his cheekbones.

‘That was different.’

Kat turned her head until her cheek rested in the palm of his hand; she was willing to let this palpable untruth go unchallenged. The hurt was beginning to fade; she knew she’d reacted so dramatically because she felt insecure about their relationship. Things had happened so quickly… She’d got in so deep, yet for all she knew it could all be over tomorrow.

‘I don’t work for you, Matt.’

The thumb which had been stroking the soft angle of her jawline stilled. ‘You mean you’re quitting on me? Because of this?’ Both hands slid to her waist and he jerked her roughly towards him.

‘I mean that as far as I’m concerned I haven’t been working for you since we became lovers!’ Her eyes were openly loving as they scanned his face. ‘I couldn’t do both, you see, and when it came to making a choice there was no competition. I’m already looking for another job.’

‘The hell you are!’ he exclaimed, looking totally gob-smacked by her matter-of-fact announcement.

‘Well, you’re not going to need me much longer.’

Kat was so busy being stoical in defiance of the wave of misery that washed over at the thought of Matt not needing her that she didn’t see the shocked expression in Matt’s blue eyes.

Sometimes a man couldn’t see what had been staring him in the face all along.

‘Is that so…?’

‘Well, no,’ she replied, puzzled by his aggressive tone. ‘You’re so much better, and you said yourself that you won’t be staying here much longer. They’re advertising for a replacement at my old hospital, a temporary job to fill in for maternity leave…’

‘You don’t need a job,’ he announced abruptly.

‘I do!’ And the sooner, the better. This seemed as good a time as any to explain about her mother’s financial mess. ‘As you already know, I’ve got debts…’

His broad shoulders lifted dismissively. ‘I’ll sort those,’ he said abruptly.

She stiffened. ‘You mean you’ll pay them…?’

‘Come and live with me when I move out of here.’

To a stunned Kat he sounded incredibly off-hand and unemotional about it. ‘Just like that?’ she echoed, feeling her temper steadily rising.

‘It’s not complicated.’

Kat gave a squeal of pure fury. His grip remained stubbornly firm as she wriggled furiously to free herself. She gave up and instead pinned him with a blank stare. Her eyes were as hot as her expression was cold.

‘You think I’d give up my independence, my freedom, my self-respect?’ Her voice rose to a scornful crescendo. ‘All at a nod from you? You just don’t listen, do you, Matt? I don’t want to be a kept woman!’

‘Fine, then marry me.’ It emerged in an off-hand, if-you’ve-got-nothing-better-to-do, why-not? sort of way—she’d probably laugh in his face, he decided, closing his eyes.

The problem was, Matt had no experience to draw upon in this area; he’d had zero practice proposing. He’d never even contemplated doing so until a few moments ago—to be precise the moment she had said he didn’t need her any more. It was then he’d accepted what had been staring him in the face all along, that not only did he need this woman, he needed her in the for ever after sense!

The air whooshed out of Kat’s lungs in one protracted gasp.

‘What did you say?’

‘Marry me.’

Dazed, Kat gazed up into his darkly fringed eyes; they were fierce and compelling.

‘You can work if you want. You can do what you like. But marry me.’

‘Why?’

Kat held her breath; it had taken all her self-control not to grab him and scream,
Yes!

‘Why?’ she asked again, boldly.

Please, please,
please
let him say he loves me. Kat couldn’t think of another logical reason why he would propose. She hadn’t exactly been playing hard to get; it wasn’t as if he had to marry her to get her into bed. Which sort of left an unbelievable option—he wanted more than that from her!

His lips had actually parted when the door burst open. Kat could have wept with sheer frustration.

To say her expression was unfriendly as she turned towards the door would have been a massive understatement. The expression on Matt’s face was even less welcoming.

Neither of these facts seemed to make any impression on their visitor.

‘Mother!’
Matt regarded his elegant parent with a heavy scowl. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘The last I heard, this is my house,’ Drusilla pointed out tartly.

The older woman’s eyes swept around the room but they passed over Kat unseeingly. Kat hardly registered the vague expression in her blue eyes; it was taking all her time to cope with the aftermath of anticlimax.

She shot a covert glance at Matt’s profile from under the sweep of her lashes and saw he was looking right back at her. There was nothing ambiguous about the devastatingly direct stare; it was hot and hungry. Her tummy muscles started twanging like overstretched guitar strings.

‘I’m here because…’

Like a sleepwalker, Kat tore her eyes from Matt’s face with difficulty and saw the extraordinary spectacle of Drusilla’s face crumbling. She seemed to shrink somehow before Kat’s horrified eyes.

BOOK: The Prospective Wife
6.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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