that led to the restrooms.
Pausing at one of the full-length mirrors, she stared at her reflection, then cupped her cheeks, heat flaring beneath her palms.
Matthew Cooper was an arrogant ass. He was a trust-fund kid with upper-crust parents and a British ancestry dating back to the Battle of Hastings. An insanely intelligent silver-spooner who never knew what it was like to truly struggle...for a life, for control, for his next meal. He was the most self-centered, overbearing—
No. This wasn’t about him. Her life had been one insane rollercoaster ride since April: in the space of a week she’d gone from her normal checkup to being prepped for surgery to remove ovarian cysts. Determined to keep Emily’s happy prewedding bubble intact, she’d told no one, but her luck had run out when she’d run into Zac at the hospital, where he’d been donating some huge sum to the children’s ward and she’d been coming out of post-op. She’d sworn him to secrecy, but then the rat had insisted on paying for everything, including a week’s recuperation at a private health facility.
It’s highly unlikely you’ll be able to bear a child, Miss Reynolds.
Oh, her surgeon had his sympathetic bedside manner down pat, and a few years ago she would’ve brushed off his concern with barely a backward thought. The mere idea of her—Miss Single Girl, Life of the Party—having kids was laughable, right? Her fractured childhood notwithstanding, she loved the fact she could pick up stumps and move across the state on a whim, answering to no one, depending on no one and needing no one. Sure, there were those weird little pangs when she saw Emily and Zac together and she briefly yearned for something more. And it seemed like all her friends were dropping off her radar one by one, suddenly engrossed in getting married, falling in love or having babies.
Not AJ Reynolds. She didn’t need anyone.
Except now, the most basic choice of womanhood had been ripped from her and the sudden, inexplicable loss gaped like a jagged wound.
She’d started to question all the turns she’d taken to get to this point, every minute choice she’d made. That unfamiliar self-scrutiny had freaked her out, but finally, after a week of agonizing, she’d woken up one morning and known exactly what she wanted.
The heavy sucking sound of the door opening, followed by a sudden brief burst of music and laughter, broke through her thoughts. She narrowed her eyes at Matthew’s reflection in the mirror, refusing to turn around even when the silence lengthened and her skin itched with expectation.
“The men’s room is next door,” she said helpfully.
He ignored her comment. “You’re still angry with me.”
She whirled, ready to do battle, but took a calming breath at the last moment.
“Being angry means I still care.” She tipped her chin up, giving him her best down-the-nose glare, even though he was a good six inches taller. “And I don’t.”
“Right.”
His superiority grated. “Oh, get over yourself, Matt! It’s been ten years. I’ve moved on. Grown up. I’m living my life. You...” She waved a hand, taking in his perfectly suited frame. “You’re probably married to some socialite, chief of something by now and pleasing the pants off your parents—”
“Actually, I’m divorced and run an international medical response team.”
“—and honestly, I don’t think—” AJ paused then blinked. “What?”
“I run GEM. It’s a global emergency medical—”
“Wait, wait, wait. You quit Saint Catherine’s?”
He nodded. “Just over four years ago.”
AJ was stunned. “Holy crap. But you lived and breathed that place. It was your entire existence and you... Wow. What did your parents say?”
“Considerably more than ‘wow.’” The cloud in those hooded velvet eyes spoke volumes, belying the casual quirk of his lips.
“Wow,” she said again. He remained silent as she stared at him.
He’d been married. It was old news, but her heart still smarted. He’d loved someone enough to propose. He’d taken someone else to bed and been loved in return.
Was it wrong to hate someone she didn’t know?
AJ focused on his beautiful mouth. She knew the second his thoughts solidified: his brown eyes darkened, nostrils flaring as he slowly dragged in a breath. “Angel...”
She swallowed. “Don’t call me that.”
She heard a loud click and jumped as the room was suddenly plunged into pitch darkness.
The light timer had run its course. With a soft curse, AJ stuck out her hands and took a step forward.
“AJ?”
“I’m walking to the wall.” She took another step, then another...until she found something solid. And warm. Definitely not the wall.
She sprung back with a dismayed groan and would’ve lost her footing if not for Matt’s quick response. He grabbed her arms, steadying her. “I’ve got you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yes, you are.” The blackness was absolute but she could still hear the smile in his voice.
Her breath hitched as his hands seared her skin. “You can let go now.”
“Okay.”
But he didn’t. Instead, he cupped her elbows and suddenly every one of her senses went on high alert.
His long sensual fingers were warm on her skin and his subtle scent beckoned. When she felt him shift, a wave of body heat swathed her, drawing her into a seductive web.
Damn it. Her heart pounded in familiar anticipation. She heard him draw in a breath, then slowly exhale. That gentle puff of air was way too close to her cheek.
“Matthew. Turn the light on.”
“I will.”
“Now.”
“You are still angry.”
“That doesn’t concern you.” She struggled in his grasp so that when he released her, she crashed into his chest and her lips collided with his.
She gasped and pulled back, a second too late. That fleeting moment of delight had done its job.
The door suddenly swung open, and the light automatically switched back on. They both blinked and turned to see Paige standing in the doorway.
Everyone froze in a strange tableau of embarrassment, followed by an immediate gathering of dignity as AJ and Matt both sprang apart.
“Oh, hey,” Paige said, way too casually. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Matt. The newlyweds are leaving. You want to go?”
“In a minute.” But he
