Passion & Pleasure: Savage Awakening / For Pleasure...Or Marriage? / Taken for His Pleasure. Carol Marinelli
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‘No problem,’ he assured her, leaning forward with his hands on his thighs, taking a few gulping breaths of air. ‘God, I’m out of condition. I guess I need to get myself in shape in more ways than one.’
Fliss forced a faint smile. ‘I think you need to rest,’ she murmured carefully. Then, glimpsing Diane watching them from the corner of the house, ‘Thanks again. I’ll try and keep Amy out of your hair in future.’
Chapter Three
DIANE was pacing about the kitchen when Matt came back inside. ‘D’you want to tell me what’s going on?’ she demanded, her grey eyes flaring with irritation. ‘How long have you and Fliss Taylor known one another?’
Matt gave her an incredulous look. ‘We don’t know one another,’ he said, going to wash his hands at the sink. ‘How the hell would we? I’ve only been here a couple of days.’
‘You tell me.’ Diane was huffy. ‘You seemed pretty familiar with one another. And she obviously didn’t expect to see me. Didn’t you tell her I was coming down this morning?’
‘Oh, for pity’s sake!’ Matt dried his hands and then shoved them into his pockets so she wouldn’t see they were shaking. ‘Why would I tell her anything? I’ve only met her once before.’
Diane regarded him suspiciously. ‘So what was that rabbit doing here?’
Matt heaved a sigh. He badly wanted to sit down, but dogged determination—and pride—kept him on his feet. He should have known Diane would come here looking for trouble, but however appealing Fliss Taylor might be—and he couldn’t deny she was appealing—he wasn’t interested.
‘She has a kid,’ he said wearily. ‘But then, you probably know that. You’re the one who seems to know everything about her.’
‘I used to,’ declared Diane dismissively. ‘Personally, I haven’t set eyes on her or her kid for years.’
‘OK.’ Matt endeavoured to control his irritation. ‘Well, for some reason, the kid decided her rabbit would be safer in my garden than hers. She’d stowed its cage near the back door and I caught her feeding it this morning. That’s all there is to it.’
‘So—then what? You phoned her mother and asked her to come and get it?’
‘No.’ Matt was tired of this interrogation. He didn’t know why Diane had bothered to come if all she intended to do was pick an argument with him. Surely she knew he was supposed to avoid any unnecessary stress, and getting riled up about something so trivial was definitely unnecessary. He blew out a breath. ‘She came here looking for her daughter. No law against that, is there?’
Diane’s lips tightened. ‘I suppose not.’
‘Good. I’m glad we agree on something, at any rate.’ Matt turned away. ‘Want some coffee?’
‘So why didn’t they just take the rabbit with them?’ she asked after a moment, and Matt swore.
‘For pity’s sake,’ he snapped. ‘Does it matter? I’ve explained what happened. Let that be an end of it.’
Diane hesitated. ‘I—suppose it would have been difficult to move the thing without a car.’
‘Right.’
Diane nodded. ‘And Fliss didn’t know the kid had left the rabbit here?’
‘Diane…’
Matt’s tone warned her not to proceed, but she spread her hands defensively. ‘I just want to know,’ she said innocently. ‘I suppose Amy still regards this place as her second home.’
Matt swung round then, a frown drawing his brows together. ‘What are you talking about?’
Diane looked smug now. ‘I thought you were sick of talking about it,’ she mocked, and then, realising she was pushing her luck, she gave in. ‘Fliss used to work for the old man who owned this place,’ she explained. ‘I’ve heard she used to bring the kid with her.’
‘What work did she do?’
‘What do drop-outs usually do?’ asked Diane contemptuously. ‘She was his housekeeper, of course. When she wasn’t working in the pub, that is.’
Matt poured coffee into two mugs and handed one to her. ‘For someone who claims not to have seen the woman for God knows how long, you seem to know a lot about her,’ he said, sinking gratefully onto one of the two stools he’d brought down from London. He swallowed a mouthful of coffee, feeling the reassuring kick of caffeine invading his system. ‘Are you a snob, Diane?’
‘No!’ She was indignant. ‘But I can’t help it if I think she was a fool to throw away a decent education to be a single mother.’
Matt arched a dark brow. ‘Is that what she did?’
‘Yes.’ Diane scowled. ‘I mean, she was sixteen, for God’s sake. She must have been crazy.’
‘Obviously she didn’t think so.’
Diane shrugged. ‘More fool her.’ She shook her head. ‘It was the talk of the village.’
‘I bet.’
‘Well, it was so stupid. She could have had an abortion. No one need have known anything about it. It wasn’t as if the boy wanted to marry her. Mummy thinks her mother never really got over it.’
‘Ah.’ Matt was beginning to understand. ‘So you get your information from your mother.’
Diane looked offended. ‘There’s no need to take that attitude. Mummy thought I’d be interested. After all, Fliss and I used to be friends.’ She grimaced. ‘To think, I used to be like her!’
Matt was not prepared to get into that one. Instead, he concentrated on his coffee, knowing that sooner or later Diane would remember what they’d been talking about before the other woman had knocked at the door.
And he didn’t have to wait long.
‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘that doesn’t matter now. You were telling me what you intend to do with this place. I mean, look around you, darling. It’s going to take a fortune to make it anything like habitable.’
‘A small fortune, perhaps,’ he allowed, with a wry smile. ‘And I don’t intend to do it all at once. Just the main bedroom and a couple of reception rooms. Most of the changes are cosmetic, anyway. According to Joe Francis, the building’s sound enough.’
‘But what does it matter?’ protested Diane, setting down her mug with hardly controlled frustration. ‘Matt, you’re not going to stay here. You may kid yourself that this is what you want, but that’s just a passing phase. As soon as you’re feeling yourself again, you’ll realise that you can’t live anywhere but London. Your job’s there; your friends are there. You don’t know anyone in Mallon’s End. Except Mummy and Daddy, of course, and you don’t really care for them. Admit it.’