about what had also happened that night.
She’d overheard enough of his cocktail party chitchat to know he was a tried and true bachelor. A determined playboy, if his one-liners were anything to go by. A committed army doctor if the newspaper headlines were to be believed. Or had he recently been decommissioned? Given himself over to the finer things in life?
She gave herself a sharp shake. Playboy or not, if he was the one threatening to take the job she rightfully deserved she was going to have play her A-game.
This was her job. She hadn’t sat through countless interviews and buttoned herself into this ridiculous suit heaven knew how many times just to let it go without a fight.
“You two have met?” Dr. Menzies stepped between the pair of them, throwing anxious looks first at Amanda and then at Matthew.
Amanda realized that both she and Matthew had slowly been advancing on each other—as natural predators would. Cheetah vs panther? Or tiger vs lion? She’d like to think of herself as the lioness in this scenario. Ready with a killer hairdo and a roar that would knock anyone for six if they were brave enough to stick around and listen.
“Not formally,” Amanda answered, quirking an eyebrow in Matthew’s direction but turning on a hundred-watt smile and reaching out a hand to Dr. Menzies. “You must be Donald Menzies?”
IT TOOK ALL of the power in Matthew’s charm arsenal to hold back a full-bodied guffaw at the Ice Queen’s response.
Not formally?
True, he’d never learnt her name. Nor had he bothered to give her his.
But the night had been formal, all right. One of a score of similar black tie affairs he’d attended two years ago, nearly three, all aimed at making the Support our Soldiers House in Sussex a reality.
After his father had died, and his mother had high-tailed it to Australia, turning the place into a rehab facility had meant the faux-Georgian mansion would be good for something. Living in it certainly wasn’t.
“We met at...” He paused, drumming his fingers along his chin, feigning having to think about it.
He knew damn well where he’d met her, and how long it had taken before he had been holding her in his arms without a stitch of clothing between them. He also knew that every woman since hadn’t so much as shone a light on her. Not that there had been many. One night with the Ice Queen had changed his standards.
“A charity event, wasn’t it?” she prompted drily, tucking a stray strand of blond hair behind her ear before switching that diamond-bright smile back to Dr. Menzies. “Excellent places to meet like-minded people.”
“For Support our Soldiers?” Dr. Menzies asked, then continued apologetically, “Of course you would already know that Matthew founded the charity if you were at one of his events.”
Matthew was certain he was the only one reading the flutter of blinks masking Amanda’s hazel eyes as the reaction of a woman caught off guard and quickly rebuilding her house of cards.
“It’s an excellent charity,” she answered smoothly. “And I have quite a few ideas about how the SoS wing here and the A&E team could really benefit by being in the same facility.”
Matthew stifled another chuckle before a stark blaze of understanding wiped the smile from his face. Amanda was the other candidate for the Medical Directorship.
He’d been primed for gloves off and no holds barred—but, seeing as it was the mystery woman who’d all but set him on fire that night, this month of enforced co-working could be...fun.
His mind raced to remember if the doctors’ sleeping quarters had locks on the doors.
“When was the event?” Dr. Menzies asked. “Something recent? I’m surprised neither of you made the Bankside Hospital connection.”
She looked to him as if she couldn’t quite remember, but Matthew could tell by the accelerated pulse thrumming at the base of her throat that she could bullseye the date as easily as he could.
“Hmm... No. It wasn’t recent.”
Matthew directed his gaze directly toward Amanda. He took some “thinking” time to rake his gaze along the snug fit of her suit. She was a bit curvier than the last time he’d seen her. The extra swish of hip and the ripe flush of her décolletage were...distracting.
“I’d say it was about two...maybe three years ago?”
The smallest flash of darkness crossed Amanda’s composed, almost aristocratic expression. Only someone looking for a chink in her china doll veneer would have noticed.
“Yes. Something like that,” she acquiesced coolly.
“Weren’t you still in the military then?” Dr. Menzies directed his question to Matthew, either completely unaware of or intentionally ignoring the growing tension in the room.
“I’d recently hung up my boots.”
It had actually been a year since he’d come back. His father’s liver failure had yanked him back to the life he’d been trying to forget. At least he’d been there as his father had ultimately lost his halfhearted battle to survive. More than he could say for his mother, who hadn’t even bothered to send a card.
The sheer bleakness of it all had forced him to make a choice. Not that the empty mansion and multi-million-pound business his father had left behind had filled the emptiness in his heart. Not by a long shot. But seeing all that misspent energy had turned Matthew’s grief into a white-hot drive to have at least one good thing come from Charlie’s death.
When he’d set out to create SoS he’d foolishly believed it would be the gesture he needed to pay his penance for not having been there for Charlie when he’d hung that damn rope over the beam in the attic.
The night he’d met Amanda he’d been about to close the whole SoS rehab unit down. Nothing, it seemed, could fill the void his brother had left behind. But she’d exploded his vision of the world into smithereens and he’d been trying to put it back together ever since.
Being with her had been the medicine he’d needed. It had given him hope. Proved he still had the ability to make a human connection. It had been a vital reminder that if it was possible for him to feel passion and loss and the sweet magic of meeting a kindred spirit, there was hope for the soldiers the new unit would help.
Not that he’d tell her she’d been nothing less than an angel that night. Not in a million years.
Turning to Dr. Menzies, Matthew went on to explain, “As you know, R&R didn’t suit me so well, and my father’s company needed a new direction. That’s when I decided to see if we could bring SoS to London. That whole night was a bit of a blur, actually. So many new faces...”
He took his time raking the length of her again, with a look in his eye he knew wasn’t altogether innocent.
High heels. Killer set of legs. Waist trim and belted, blossoming up into that inviting décolletage his fingers were itching
