Red-Hot Affairs: The Crown Affair / Craving Her Enemy's Touch / A Lone Star Love Affair

CHAPTER SEVEN

THIS was getting ridiculous, Matt thought, struggling to pay attention to what his advisors were saying. He was in the middle of a discussion about the huge gaps in the public accounts and all he could think about was what Laura was up to.

He hadn’t laid eyes on her in the two weeks since she’d been hired. Not that he’d been looking out for her especially. No. He’d had far too much to do. But it did seem odd. The palace might be big but it wasn’t that large.

In a weird way her absence simply made him more aware of her presence. Which didn’t make any sense at all.

Maybe it was the knowledge that he’d overreacted again and undoubtedly owed her another apology. Snapping at her like that to stay out of his way, snapping at anyone for that matter, wasn’t how he chose to behave.

But then since he’d met her a lot of his behaviour had been uncharacteristic. If it carried on much longer his reputation for being tough and uncompromising would lie in tatters.

What was it about her that set him so on edge? Why did he have this niggling feeling that she was some kind of a threat? A threat to what exactly? In his experience threats came from rival bidders for a company he wanted and from despotic former presidents with their hands in the till. They did not come from curvy blond-haired blue-eyed architects.

Matt shoved his hands through his hair and let out a growl of frustration. Whatever the hell was going on, it couldn’t continue.

He’d start with the apology. The sooner he got that out of the way, the better. And then he’d take the opportunity to find out a little more about her.

Something about the sabbatical she’d claimed she was on, the way she’d avoided his eyes when she’d mentioned it, had been gnawing at his brain. Whatever it was, she was working for him and he should get to the bottom of it.

And that was another thing, he realised suddenly. His company employed dozens of permanent staff and he’d always made a point of getting to know every one of them. Now Laura was on his payroll and what did he know about her? Apart from what she felt like in his arms and wrapped around him, precious little.

Matt ignored the bolt of heat that gripped his body and set his jaw. In fact that was probably what had been bothering him. The non-observation of formalities.

‘Sir?’

He snapped his head round to his secretary who was sitting on his right and refocused his attention. ‘What?’ he said, and added a quick smile to mitigate the sharpness of his tone.

‘I hope you don’t mind my asking, but is everything all right?’

‘Fine. What does Signorina Mackenzie do for lunch?’

The only indication that Antonio Capelli was surprised by a question about lunch in the midst of a conversation about corruption was a double blink. ‘I believe she takes a sandwich to the rose garden.’

A sandwich? Matt’s jaw tightened. No one could survive on a sandwich. ‘What time?’

‘One-ish, I believe. Would you like me to check?’

‘No, that’s fine. Where’s the rose garden?’

‘Past the kitchen gardens. Before the lake. There’s a gate in the hedge.’

‘Thank you.’

Matt made a move to get to his feet but Antonio leaned forwards and said, ‘The advisors are waiting for your comments.’

About what? Oh, yes. Now that he’d fixed the Laura problem he snapped his attention back to the discussion with thankfully familiar ease. ‘How much is missing?’

‘Approximately fifty million,’ said one of the finance advisors.

Pushing his chair back, he stood, planted his hands on the table and said, ‘Trace the money. I suggest you start with Switzerland. When you find out who’s responsible, arrest them.’

Laura finished off the last of her cheese sandwich and brushed the crumbs off her skirt. Breathing in the heady scent of roses, she sighed with pleasure. She’d stumbled on this little slice of heaven the day she’d arrived back with all her things, and, absolutely certain that it was one place Matt, or anyone else for that matter, would never visit, she’d made a habit of having lunch here, followed by half an hour of sunbathing before getting back to work.

The weather was gorgeous, the work was absorbing, and Matt and his disturbing effect on her composure were nowhere to be seen. What could be better?

Laura stood up, unzipped her overalls and pushed them down to her waist. Then she lay down on the grass, closed her eyes as the sun hit her bare skin and basked in the warmth.

This was so the life.

She was in the middle of a particularly lovely daydream in which she was picking up a RIBA European award for her work on the palace when she heard the squeaking of the gate.

Her heart jumped. Her ears pricked. And caught another squeak. Swiftly followed by a sharp intake of breath and a muttered curse.

Her pulse racing, Laura jackknifed up. Grabbed the sides of her overalls and clutched them to her chest. She twisted round. And nearly passed out.

Matt was standing just inside the gate, frozen to the spot, staring down at her, his face set, but his eyes blazing.

Laura swallowed and felt a raging blush hit her cheeks. Too late to hope that he hadn’t seen her semi-naked. OK, so she was at least wearing her bra, which was something to be thankful for, but the muscle hammering in his jaw and the tension in his body told her that he’d seen more than enough.

‘You scared the life out of me,’ she snapped, aiming for control by channelling her mortification into accusation.

‘Next time I’ll knock,’ he said hoarsely, turning away so she could get her clothes in order.

‘At least this time I’m not in danger of banging my head,’ she muttered as she thrust her arms into the sleeves and whipped up the zip. Just passing out with overheating. Matt creeping up on her had better not become a habit.

Springing to her feet, Laura gave herself a quick shake and forced herself to calm down. ‘You can turn round now,’ she said lightly. ‘I’m decent.’

More than decent, actually. Her nipples might be annoyingly as hard as pebbles, but the shapelessness of her overalls revealed nothing of the way her body responded to him, thank goodness.

Now all she had to do was sidle off, bury herself in work and find somewhere else to have lunch because, judging by the hamper hanging from his hand and banging against his knees, Matt had decided to appropriate this spot and frankly, with thousands of other heavenly spots in the grounds of the palace it wasn’t really worth arguing over.

‘Right. Well. I’ll—er—leave you to it.’

‘Don’t go.’ Matt flashed her a smile and her stomach flipped. Awareness whizzed through the entire length of her as, unable to help herself, she ran her gaze over every gorgeous inch of him, from the top of his thick dark hair right the way down, past the T-shirt and jeans down to the flip-flops.

She paused and blinked, not sure she’d heard him correctly. ‘What?’

‘My being here isn’t exactly a coincidence.’

Laura frowned. ‘Did you want something?’

‘I came to see if you’d like some lunch.’ He strode towards her and set the hamper beside the table.

‘I’ve already had it.’

‘Have some more.’

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘Fine, you can keep me company while I have lunch,’ he said, folding himself into the chair on the other side of the table and waving that she do the same.

Hmm. ‘I need to get back to work.’

‘Later.’ He gave her a quick smile. ‘Indulge me.’

Her stomach swooped. ‘Do I have any option?’

‘Not a lot,’ he said, his eyes glinting with amusement and turning her head inside out. ‘According to the records, disobeying the king used to result being thrown in the dungeon.’

‘Charming.’

‘Not in the least,’ he said cheerfully. ‘It’s damp and crawling with vermin. You wouldn’t like it.’

Probably not. Although she was pretty sure it would be less uncomfortable than having lunch with Matt when her common sense had gone AWOL. ‘Wow,’ she said, arching an eyebrow and crossing her arms. ‘Absolute power and blackmail. That’s quite a combination.’

‘I like to think so.’

Laura tilted her head. ‘I thought I was supposed to be staying out of your way.’

He glanced at her for a second and then grinned. ‘That was one of the things I wanted to chat about.’

Now he wanted to chat? She narrowed her eyes. ‘Don’t you have better things to do? Like a country to run?’

‘Even kings need to eat. And I thought we could get round to some of that small talk you mentioned.’

The small talk they’d been too busy getting horizontal and naked to bother with …

Laura’s insides tangled into a mass of longing and frustration. Why was she always on the back foot with this man? What was it about him that had her feeling totally at sea? And more importantly why hadn’t the two weeks she’d spent staying out of his way done anything to reduce the effect he had on her?

She nibbled on her lip. Maybe small talk was the way forward. If she could get him to reveal a bit about himself, maybe he’d turn out to be hideously arrogant, irritatingly patronising and possibly insanely boring. If she was really lucky, he’d also expose a couple of nasty habits. Like interrupting her. Or dismissing her opinions as if batting away a fly. As her ex had had a tendency to do. Hah. That would certainly put her off.

Laura sat down and gave him a cool smile. ‘What would you like to talk about?’

Matt leaned down and took a bottle and a couple of glasses out of the hamper. ‘It’s occurred to me that the apologies I owe you are beginning to stack up.’

Oh. Damn. Not that hideously arrogant, then. She lifted a shoulder. ‘Are they?’

He pulled the cork out, filled the glasses and slid one across the table to her. ‘First of all, I never apologised for jumping to the conclusion you were a journalist.’

He’d made up for it in other ways, Laura thought, drawing the glass towards her, and then wished she hadn’t as her cheeks went red.

‘And then when you turned up here, I overreacted.’

She took a sip of wine and felt the alcohol slide into her stomach. ‘Why?’

Matt frowned. ‘I’m not sure.’

Hah. As if. She’d never met anyone less unsure of themselves. ‘Let me guess,’ she said with a flash of perception. ‘You thought I was here to see you.’ He stiffened and she felt a jolt of triumph. ‘And I bet you thought the worst.’

‘Possibly.’

‘You really ought to do something about that suspicious nature of yours.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Have lots of people crawled out of the woodwork now that you’re king?’

His face tightened. ‘Some.’

‘Well, I don’t know what sort of people you usually hang out with but you should look at getting a new set of friends.’

‘You’re probably right.’ Matt sighed and then snapped back from wherever he’d been. ‘So how am I doing?’

‘Not bad.’

‘Not bad?’

‘Well, you haven’t actually apologised yet.’

‘Good point.’ He frowned and shifted in the seat. ‘I’m sorry.’

Laura couldn’t help grinning at his obvious discomfort. ‘Not a fan of apologising?’

Matt grimaced. ‘I haven’t had a huge amount of practice.’

Lucky him. She’d had years of practice. Often apologising for things that hadn’t been her fault. God, she’d been pathetic. ‘I dare say you’ll get better at it.’

He winced. ‘I don’t plan on having to.’

‘No, well, I doubt kings generally have much to apologise for.’

Didn’t they? Any more of those sexy little smiles, thought Matt, and he’d be apologising for a whole lot more than a misunderstanding and an overreaction.

Because despite the shapeless mass of beige cotton covering Laura from head to toe, the imprint of her lying there on the grass in just her bra burned in his head and she might as well be naked. Every time she tucked her hair behind her ears or reached for her glass and lifted it to her mouth the thick cotton rustled and reminded him of exactly what lay beneath.

His head swam for a second and his hands curled into fists. Oh, for God’s sake. He really had to get a grip.

Right. Conversation. That had been the plan. Food might not be a bad idea, either, he thought, taking out a couple of plates, cutlery and a number of small plastic boxes. He pushed a plate across the table to Laura but she shook her head. He opened the boxes and piled a selection of things on his plate.

‘So how’s the accommodation?’ he asked.

See. He could do conversation.

‘Very comfortable, thank you. Who could complain about a four-poster bed and marble en-suite?’

The image of Laura hot and naked and wet in the shower slammed into his head and his mouth went dry as the heavy beat of desire began to pound through him. Perhaps best to steer clear of accommodation as a conversational avenue in the future.

‘And the work?’

‘Really great,’ she said, giving him a dazzling smile that nearly blinded him.

‘You’re very dedicated.’ Neither his culture minister nor his secretary could stop singing her praises. It had been driving him insane.

‘I love my job.’

‘So why the sabbatical?’

Her glass froze halfway to her mouth and she carefully set it back down on the table. ‘What do you mean?’ she said warily.

‘Well, you’re clearly good at your job, and you said yourself you love it. So why the sabbatical?’

‘Oh, well, you know.’ She shrugged and nibbled on her lip in that way that he was discovering meant that she was nervous. Excellent. When he’d thought that something didn’t add up he’d been right.

‘I needed some time out. Stress. Boredom. That sort of thing.’

Matt didn’t believe that for a second. Her whole demeanour had changed and if pushed he’d have said she looked downright shifty. ‘You don’t seem the type to suffer from stress or boredom.’

‘Then I guess it’s working.’

Hmm. Never mind. He’d get to the bottom of her sabbatical soon enough. ‘How long have you lived in Little Somerford?’

She visibly relaxed. ‘A couple of months.’

‘And before that?’

‘London. Born and bred.’

‘Do you miss it?’

‘Bits.’

‘Which bits?’

‘The theatres. My friends.’

Matt tilted his head. ‘You must be what … late twenties?’

‘Early thirties,’ she said cagily, her eyes narrowing.

‘And you move from the bright lights of London and a good job to hole up in a remote village in the country. Why?’

Laura studied her feet. ‘I fancied a change of scenery.’

‘During your sabbatical?’ he said dryly.

‘Exactly.’

‘Aren’t you quite young to take a sabbatical?’

Her head shot up and her eyes flashed. ‘What’s with this obsession with my sabbatical?’

Matt lifted his shoulders and gave her a smile. ‘I’m just interested.’

Laura frowned. ‘You should meet my friend Kate.’

‘Why?’

‘You both have persistence in spades,’ she said darkly. ‘You’d get on like a house on fire.’

Matt grinned. ‘Persistence is useful in my line of work.’

‘I’d call it nosiness.’

‘That’s useful, too. Bit risky, though, I’d have thought, to take a sabbatical at such a relatively early stage in your career.’

Laura let out an exasperated sigh and then threw her hands up. ‘Fine,’ she said, glaring at him. ‘I didn’t exactly choose to take a sabbatical. I was made redundant.’

‘Ah,’ Matt said, his mouth curving into a triumphant smile.

‘There were cutbacks in government spending. Projects were axed. Heads rolled. Mine was one of them.’

‘Ouch.’ Whoever had employed her had been idiots for letting her go. But their loss, his gain. Or rather Sassania’s gain, he amended swiftly.

She stared at him for a second, then blinked. ‘Well, yes,’ she said. ‘But actually, not as ouch now as it was at the time.’ She gave him a quick smile. ‘In fact with the benefit of hindsight I ought to have sent them a big bunch of flowers to say thank you.’

‘Why?’ Matt wished she wouldn’t do that blinking thing. It made him lose his train of thought. The colour of her eyes was so deep, so intense that when the blue disappeared he thought it a shame, yet when it reappeared his head swam and he wished she’d kept her eyes shut.

‘If I hadn’t been made redundant, I wouldn’t have been free to take on this.’ She waved an arm in the direction of the palace. ‘I have ex-colleagues who would give their eye teeth to be here.’

Matt dragged his attention back to the conversation and hmmed. He doubted any of them would have her dedication or enthusiasm. ‘That explains the “sabbatical”,’ he said, ‘but why leave London?’

The wince was tiny but he caught it and something stabbed him in the chest. ‘London gets a trifle dull after a while, don’t you find?’

‘No.’

‘Oh.’ She frowned. And then shrugged. ‘Well, each to their own.’

Barriers were springing up all around her telling him to back off. But as she’d pointed out, he was persistent.

‘I don’t buy it,’ he said, deceptively mildly.

‘Tough.’

Matt leaned forwards. ‘Tell me.’

‘No.’

But she was wavering.

‘Maybe I can help.’

‘You already did,’ she said, and then went bright red.

‘How?’

‘Doesn’t matter.’

‘If it involves me it does matter.’

‘Let’s just say I met you at a time when my self-esteem wasn’t exactly sky-high.’

‘And I boosted it?’

‘Something like that,’ she muttered.

‘You used me.’ Matt sat back and wondered whether he was hurt or amused.

Her gaze flew to his. ‘No. Of course not.’

Oh, she was terrible at lying. He didn’t say anything, just lifted an eyebrow and stared at her until her cheeks went even redder.

‘Well, maybe just a little bit.’ She screwed up her eyes as if not wanting to see his reaction.

She needn’t have worried. He had no complaints. ‘Charming,’ he said mildly, folding his arms over his chest and grinning. ‘I’m devastated.’

Her eyes flew open in shock and then she relaxed and returned his grin. ‘I can tell.’

‘Nevertheless, I think you owe me an explanation.’

‘I don’t see why. Can you honestly say you didn’t use me?’

‘This isn’t about me.’

Laura nodded and took a deep breath. ‘OK, fine. The day I was made redundant I got home early to find my boyfriend at the time with his secretary. In our bed.’

‘Ah.’

‘I know. Tacky, or what? They’d been having an affair for three months, would you believe, and I hadn’t a clue. I’d rented my flat out when I moved in with him and, what with three being a bit of a crowd, I couldn’t exactly stick around. So I trawled through the websites of a number of rental agencies and found the cottage in Little Somerford and I left.’

‘What a jerk.’ The hammering urge to hunt her ex-boyfriend down and pummel the living daylights out of him thumped Matt in the chest, taking him completely by surprise.

She blinked. ‘Well, yes. But I guess he wasn’t wholly to blame.’

‘Seems to me that that kind of behaviour is inexcusable,’ he muttered, wondering exactly where such a violent reaction had come from.

She bit her lip. ‘True, but I was too easygoing, too easy to please. Too afraid of confrontation. I let him get away with too much. I let him walk all over me.’ She shrugged.

Easy-going? Afraid of confrontation? Matt nearly fell off his chair. That didn’t sound like the Laura he knew. Since the moment he’d met her she’d been feisty, fearless and determined.

Snapshots flew around his head. Of Laura on the path, batting her eyelids and pouting. Arching her back on his sofa and staring up at him with that come-hither look. Sitting in his office, limbs crossed, chin up as she told him she wasn’t leaving.

His stomach churned with a weird combination of lust, admiration and something that felt suspiciously like jealousy.

‘Which has kind of been the story of my life,’ she was saying. ‘Much as it pains me to admit it, I have been a bit of a doormat.’