Brides, Babies And Billionaires. Rebecca Winters

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it work both ways?’ Again she voiced her thoughts. She didn’t wanted to know, hoped he’d refuse.

      ‘I’m an avid Adelaide Crows supporter, and watched every match on the Internet while I was overseas. I played competitive squash—now I fit in games or workouts with Alan whenever I can, and run. My movie taste is for high adventure, fast action. And there’s not much I won’t eat.’

      Wow, more detail to flesh out her fantasies and spice up her dreams of an unsuitable, never ever for her, completely unattainable man. She instinctively squirmed in her seat and pushed into the back.

      ‘Your turn.’ He wasn’t going to let her off.

      ‘I rarely watch sport, enjoy any well-made science fiction, and Australian historical movies or series and walk whenever possible. I use a gym on a casual basis. I enjoy spicy food, not too hot, and eat limited takeaway when I’m home.

      ‘And you like your job?’

      ‘I love the challenge of a mystery and the adrenaline rush when I succeed. Unfortunately most jobs are mundane, the result of human error and complications when they try to undo without really knowing what they did.’

      She heard her own dissatisfaction. Maybe it was time for a change.

      ‘Is there anything else you’d like to do?’

      ‘I’m not sure. It’s a new concept.’ She frowned at him then smiled. ‘Talking to you might not be good for my career. Where did you live in London? I heard houses and units are super expensive.’

      ‘Correct. I got lucky. I own a one-bedroom suburban flat within walking distance of the Tube. Actually, the bank has a major share, but my name is on the deed. And I could buy a new three-bedroom house in Adelaide for less. It’s rented out to a colleague while I’m away, which looks like it’s going to be much longer than I anticipated.’

      He pushed his empty plate aside.

      ‘New topic: favourite ways to relax.’

      * * *

      Matt didn’t mention Saturday night arrangements during their meal or on the way back, and kept the taxi waiting while he came in to pick up the folder he needed for his meeting with the solicitor.

      He turned to go, made a move towards her and the air stilled between them. The flash in his eyes triggered a surge in her pulse. She waited, holding her breath. His eyes narrowed, his lips parted then his Adam’s apple bounced as he struggled for words. The sound he made was guttural, masculine. She felt its effect skittle down her spine.

      ‘Don’t go until I get back, okay?’

      She could only nod as his finger brushed her lips and he walked out through the door.

      * * *

      Joanne hadn’t been kidding about the backlog but by normal finishing time Lauren had made good progress. She tidied up, then went to the nearby shop and bought a magazine and a packet of chocolate biscuits.

      She was curled in a chair by his window, filling in a crossword when he appeared and dropped the folder on his desk.

      ‘Stay right there. Another drink?’ He indicated the mug by her side.

      ‘No, thank you.’ She closed the book and watched him. She’d expected dejection with the prospect of prosecution for Dalton Corporation, his father or both hanging over him. Couldn’t see it in his face or movement.

      He sat and stretched out his long legs, taking a deep swallow before putting his mug down.

      ‘That tastes good. Thanks for waiting for me.’

      His attitude puzzled her. Blasé as opposed to taut as a wound spring as he’d been most of the time she’d been here. As if he read her mind, he arched his back, linked his hands behind his head and smiled.

      Where had the dour, weary-eyed man from ten days ago gone? Only the dark shadows under his eyes and the deep lines around his mouth and eyes proved the strain he’d endured.

      ‘Not the same guy you first met, huh? Your finding that screen has taken away the uncertainty, the unknown factor hanging over every decision I made. Now I have true facts and figures to deal with. We’ll be audited and investigated but if we’re honest we’ll survive.’

      ‘So your meetings went well.’

      ‘I’ve told the truth, and produced all the records and Dad’s medical assessment. Now I can concentrate on the new project while the experts work it all out. My priorities are to keep the company going, even if I change its direction, and to protect my mother from any fallout from Dad’s actions.’

      He drained his coffee, and stood, pulling her to her feet. Close but not quite into his arms.

      ‘You’ve already exceeded expectations and completed your original assignment. Now I’m asking you to stay here a little longer in case I need you. Please, Lauren?’

      How could she refuse when his fingers clasped hers, his voice dropped low with emotion and the pleading in his eyes wrenched at her heart.

      The urge to step closer, reach out and trace his strong jaw line, to feel the slight rasp of his almost undetectable stubble, consumed her. Her pulse fluttered, her legs trembled, and swallowing had no effect on her dry throat.

      ‘As long as you think I can be useful.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      A buzzer sounded from the reception area, newly installed for visitors. ‘Anyone here?’

      ‘That’s for me.’ He led her to the door and called out, ‘Be right with you,’ before giving her a quirky smile.

      ‘No peace, as they say. You go home and I’ll see you in the morning.’

      * * *

      He didn’t. He called as she walked to work telling her he probably wouldn’t be in the office at all. How could such a short sentence turn her day cloudy?

      ‘I wanted to talk to you about tomorrow night. Pre-dinner drinks start at six-thirty so I’ll pick you up at your hotel around then. It’s only a short drive.’

      That meant thirty-four hours until she saw him again. She hid her disappointment with a cheerful voice.

      ‘I’ll be ready. Call me when you’re nearly there and I’ll come down to the lobby.’

      ‘I’m looking forward to it.’

      In a crazy way with mixed feelings, so was she.

      ‘I’ll see you then, Mr Dalton.’

      ‘The name’s Matt, remember?’

      Matt. Imprinted on her brain, hero of her dreams. Of course, she’d never forget.

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      MATT

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