his gaze locked with hers, he came slowly forward and lightly traced shaking fingers down her cheek, settling under her chin.
‘Wow.’ Incredulous. Deep and husky. He seemed to struggle for breath. ‘I...I’ll see you Monday.’
By the time she’d blinked he’d gone, heading for the stairs.
Lauren fought for composure, unable to move. What had she done to provoke such a reaction? Where had her response come from?
The lift’s ping brought her back to the present. She scooped up her belongings and a moment later was secure behind her closed door. Dumping the stuff on the desk, she flung herself onto the bed, reliving every second since they’d exited the lift.
She studied the photo of the two of them, searching for something to explain his behaviour and sudden flight. There was no clue in his open expression or his smile. Nothing to indicate he had anything but enjoying the function on his mind.
So it had to be her. What deficiency did she have in her personality that discouraged more familiar contact? Did she give out negative vibes? She had close friends, some from back at school and uni in Melbourne.
Their common interests had been the original base but their friendships now went much deeper. She knew she could always depend on their support in any situation. It was her family who seemed to find excuses not to be with her. Or was it she who put up barriers, subliminally deterring closer intimacy for fear of being rejected?
She set the photo against the lamp on the bedside table, placed her corsage in front of it, and prepared for bed. They were clearly visible in the light from the street lamps. She fell asleep with her fingers on her lips.
* * *
Matt fisted one hand into the palm of the other as the taxi drove him home. He could smell her perfume on his shoulder, see her shocked expression when he’d pulled away and left. He still savoured the taste of her on his lips.
He’d meant that first kiss to be gentle, an affectionate ending to a memorable night. Her initial response hadn’t surprised him. Its effect on him had been astonishing. His libido had gone into overdrive and that damn niggle had drummed in his head. Breaking free had been instinctive.
But he hadn’t been able to walk away. The invitation he’d seen in her hazel eyes had driven him back and he’d let his pent-up desire run free. He’d moulded her body to his, caressing her back, and exploring the curves he’d delighted in all evening. He’d invaded her mouth, savouring her sweetness, craving more.
Her soft moan had slammed him back to reality. To the shame of his actions. He’d never lost control before. Getting the hell out of there had seemed the only option; now it branded him a coward.
Going back to apologise while he still ached for more intimate contact would exacerbate the pain he’d caused. Phoning would be even more cowardly. He hadn’t felt so much like a louse since...
Since the night he kissed a girl hiding in the dark on a balcony. The niggling cleared like a light-bulb moment in his head. An irresistible allure. A barely heard sigh. Soft lips under his.
The kiss he’d never forgotten, had relived so often in his dreams, and that had been so entrenched in his memory that his body had known her the instant their lips had met tonight. He’d never had a face to picture, only a curled mass of dark hair, and a recollection of a slender body in a blue dress. And throughout the ten years since, no lips had ever felt as soft or tasted as sweet.
He’d searched the ballroom for her, and spent the rest of the evening repeatedly scanning the crowd without success. Deep inside he’d never given up hope of finding her.
Now he understood the guarded look and apprehension the day he’d interviewed her. She’d recognised him, must have remembered their meeting as well.
Tomorrow he’d begin to make amends for tonight’s ending. Monday morning was going to be very interesting.
* * *
Matt’s jacket hanging on the back of his chair was the only indication he was in the building. Lauren wasn’t sure if she was upset or relieved.
Tucked into her purse was the florist’s card that had accompanied the arrangement of orchids delivered to her hotel room yesterday morning. Another memento, personally inscribed, Forgive me, Matt.
For the kiss or for running?
She’d imagined a number of scenarios for when they met again, none of which eased her apprehension. She couldn’t shake the re-emerged doubts. Their lives, their interests, their personalities, all were polarised. If it weren’t for the undeniable attraction, they’d have nothing in common. She sighed and gazed out of her window lost in a daydream of music, lights and feeling cherished as they’d danced.
‘Why were you hiding?’
She jumped, spun round to find him standing halfway across the room. Her heart stuttered. She covered it with her hand, and fought to steady her erratic breathing. How come he looked so cool and calm? So unruffled?
‘I wasn’t.’ She cursed her wobbly voice. ‘I’m just doing my normal preparation.’
Three rapid paces brought him an arm’s length from her side, leaning on the glass nonchalantly. The firm set of his jaw belied his calm demeanour, giving her composure a tiny boost. He gestured in the general direction of the river.
‘On the balcony, a good cricketer’s throw away from where we had lunch with the Fords.’
He knew—had to see the blush heating her neck and face, the embarrassment in her eyes. Her teeth as they bit on her lip, something she hadn’t done since she was a child.
As she struggled for breath and an answer, his lips—lips that had filled her waking hours since he’d strode away—curled into an apologetic smile.
‘I have no idea why I followed you. I saw a mass of dark curls and a hint of blue dress going through the door alone and wondered why. Couldn’t find you at first.’
He inched a little closer.
‘You running away shook me. I swear I looked for you to apologise, and I’ve always regretted frightening you but never the kiss, never the sweet taste of your lips.’
‘I hated being there,’ she blurted out without thinking. ‘Hated the way I was forced to be part of a world I had no interest in. Places like the balcony were sanctuaries. I didn’t belong inside with those people.’
Fleetingly stunned by her outburst, he recovered to run his fingers in a light path down her cheek and under her jaw, sending fissions of delight skimming across her skin. If he let go, her legs would give way and she’d end up a trembling mess on the floor.
‘And I invaded your peace. Did you know who I was before the interview or recognise me then?’
She felt her skin heat again and dropped her gaze, only to have him tilt her head until she looked him in the eyes. His eyebrows quirked.
‘Lauren?’
‘There were lights behind you that night. I didn’t see your face but as I pushed away your eyes became visible. They’re very distinctive.’
His
