Novels by PENNY JORDAN - الصفحة 16

17-11-07, 07:53 AM

المشاركة رقم: 76

المعلومات
الكاتب:	نيارااا
اللقب:

البيانات
التسجيل:	Jun 2006
العضوية:	7129
المشاركات:	287
الجنس	أنثى
معدل التقييم:
نقاط التقييم:	43

االدولة

مدونتي

الإتصالات
الحالة:
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كاتب الموضوع : نيارااا المنتدى : الارشيف

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER FIVE

'are you all right? "

Matt's voice was curt, angry almost. She could feel the hot wave of
colour burning up under her own skin as she responded equally briefly
in the affirmative.

She knew that he must be regretting having asked her to come with
him.

What an idiotic thing for her to do. Hadn't she told herself over and
over again that, if he hadn't recognised her before he was hardly
likely to do so now, unless she gave him cause to do so? And yet here
she was, behaving in a way that was bound to make him wonder what was
wrong with her.

Ian Jackson had seen them and started walking towards them, defiant
arrogance in the look he gave Matthew before stopping in front of
him.

The look he gave Nicola made her clench her muscles and look away from
him.

She always felt uncomfortable, embarrassed and somehow guilty when she
was confronted by overt male sexual appraisal, especially when it was
accompanied by the kind of insulting, unspoken attitude typified by men
like Ian Jackson. The way he looked at her made her want to turn and
run away from him. It made her feel threatened and vulnerable, and in
some way as though something about her, something she had done, was
responsible for his attitude towards her . like a rape victim
believing that in some way she herself had encouraged her attacker
without knowing how she might have done so. Nicola knew that this fear
was directly attributable to the night she had met Matthew for the
first time, and that it had its roots in her own reckless behaviour on
that occasion.

As she looked away from Ian, fixing her gaze on some point beyond him,
she was astonished when Matthew moved towards her, almost coming to
stand between Ian and herself, as though he sensed what she was feeling
and wanted to reassure her, to protect her. She was fantasising again,
she derided herself, allowing emotions she had no right to feel take
hold of her.

The sharp intensity of her awareness of Matt confused and alarmed
her.

When she moved away, instinctively trying to distance herself not just
physically from him, but mentally from her own emotional reaction to
him, he turned his head and looked at her.

It was only a brief glance--not a glance which she would ever haVe
described as sexual or intimidating--and yet oddly it made her feel
very much aware of herself as a woman and of him as a man.

This was getting ridiculous, she told herself shakily as she
deliberately broke eye-contact with him. She was letting the past
influence and overwhelm her judgement.

Matthew was speaking to Ian Jackson, telling him coolly and clinically
about the complaints he had received.

Truculently Ian started to defend himself, his defence carrying veiled
references to his influence over the men and the fact that certain
'perks' were a time-honoured tradition of the job.

Matt refused to give way, and Nicola could only admire the firmness
with which he handled the situation.

When they eventually left the site, the foreman had been left in no
doubt as to who was now in charge of the company, and of the manner in
which Matt expected his employees to carry out their work.

On their way back to the Land Rover they had to walk past several of
the men. Instinctively Nicola made a small detour to avoid coming too
physically close to them.

It was only when she had circumvented them that she realised mat Matt
was watching her rather oddly. She could feel herself flushing.

It was an ingrained habit now, this need she had to keep as much
physical distance between herself and the male sex--but not because she
feared she might be approached or attacked. No, the reason for her
behaviour had its roots in the night she met Matthew and the
self-disgust which had been born in her then . a disgust which had
been reinforced by Jonathon's sneeringly derogatory comments to her
afterwards. She had told herself then that never, ever again would she
give any man any reason to believe that she was encouraging him to
think of her as sexually available.

She looked away from Matt now, her heart hammering with a mixture of
fear and awareness.

She had seen the curiosity in his eyes, the thoughtfulness . the way
he watched her wary, slightly uncoordinated movements, her tension as
she hurried past the group of watching men.

By the time they reached the Land Rover her nervousness had
increased.

Not caring how inelegant she might look, she scrambled up into the
passenger seat and sat tensely there as Matt climbed much more easily
in beside her.

They were halfway back to the office when Matt said quietly, "If any of
the male members of the company are guilty of harassing female staff I
should like to know about it. Not only because I disapprove on
principle of men subjecting women to embarrassing and sometimes
intimidating overtures they don't want, but also because there could be
a very real threat of us losing business through such an attitude."

Nicola bit her lip and gripped her hands together, shaking her head,
knowing that, apart from the foreman, all the other men, while
sometimes teasing the female employees, were not aggressive or
unpleasant in their manner, and she certainly could not imply that they
were just to save herself embarrassment.

"They ... the men are all very pleasant," she told him huskily.

There was a small pause, and then he enquired drily, "Does that include
Jackson?"

When she turned her head he was looking at her, a searching, intense
look, which, if the past hadn't lain so painfully on her conscience,
would have made her feel that there was nothing, no matter how
personal, which she could not confide to him. A feeling of deep and
intense sadness rolled through her, like grey clouds obscuring the sun,
sending her spirits plummeting downwards.

"Ian isn't one of my favourite people," she agreed, adding quickly,
'but the other men--' Matt didn't allow her to finish.

"That kind of attitude from one man, especially one in the position
which he holds, can all too easily influence the others, and I won't
have it. As I said, it could affect us adversely where business is
concerned. More and more women these days are making the decisions
about extensions and so on to their homes, more and more women are
single parents. When they have building work done they don't want to
have to deal with someone like Jackson and, let's face it, when he and
the men are on site they are virtually the only representatives of the
company that our customers see."

"The men respect him," Nicola pointed out.

"He won't be easy to replace."

"Not locally, perhaps, but I could always put someone in charge
temporarily transferring them from one of my other concerns. However,
it needn't come to that--if he alters his attitude..."

Privately Nicola suspected that the foreman would do no such thing. He
was an arrogant man, used to dominating those around him, a man who
depended on his swaggering, macho image. She sighed a little, mentally
contrasting him with Matt, who was so very, very male, but in a totally
different way. And yet that first time they had met. Her forehead
crinkled with confusion. Then he had seemed very much in the same
macho mould as the foreman; then he had treated her with a careless
disregard which, no matter how well- deserved, had left her sick with
self-disgust. It was very hard to reconcile that man with the one
seated next to her now.

Eight years is a long time, she reminded herself, and in those eight
years social values had changed so much that it was perhaps only
natural that human perceptions and reactions should change with them.

It surprised her how much she was enjoying working with Matt, but she
was still haunted by the fear mat something might happen and that he
might look at her and realise . recognise her. and that then
everything she had worked for-all the time and effort she had put into
ensuring that never, ever again would she suffer the humiliation and
trauma she had suffered when she'd woken up that morning in his
bed--would be destroyed.

When he stopped the Land Rover in the yard he said easily, but very
firmly, "Stay there."

Weakly Nicola did so, trembling a little as he came round to her side
of the vehicle, opened the door, and reached in to help her out. She
couldn't help flinching a little when he touched her. Just for a
moment he tensed as though he had felt her physical reaction to him,
but then he was helping her calmly and clinically from the Land Rover,
quickly removing his hands from her waist once her feet could touch the
ground.

"I understand that you have a steady boyfriend."

The comment seemed to ricochet around inside her. Who on earth had
told him about Gordon? And why? she wondered feverishly while she
responded with a jerky, "Er--yes..."

He gave her a sombre look that somehow seemed to hold a touch of
loneliness, and then,

astoundingly, told her flatly, "He's a very fortunate man."

As he turned on his heel and walked towards the office entrance, Nicola
was left staring after him, feeling as though the ground was actually
rocking precariously beneath her.

Had he really been trying to imply that he envied Gordon? Impossible,
surely. If he wanted a woman in his life, there couldn't possibly be
any shortage of candidates to fill that role.

To imply that he wanted her. A tiny cold shiver of fear touched her
spine. What if it was all just a game? What if he was just playing
with her, cruelly letting her believe that he didn't remember her, when
in fact. She gave another shiver, a deeper one this rime. No. She
was letting her fear get out of control. Why on earth would he want to
behave in such a way? But to suggest that he found her attractive .
that he envied Gordon. Over the years there had been men who had
wanted to get to know her better, but she had always frozen them off,
afraid of the problems that intimacy with them might bring. With
Gordon she was safe. Neither of them wanted anything more from their
relationship than they already had. Gordon's life was dominated by his
mother, a domination which, Nicola suspected, had resulted in an almost
complete repression of his sexuality, while her life was dominated by
her guilt and anguish over the past, which just as effectively
repressed hers. If she allowed herself to fall in love with a man,
eventually there would come a time when she would have to tell him
about her past . to explain . because she was the type of woman who
would want to be open and honest with someone she loved, but in doing
so she would have to run the risk of them turning from her with the
same contempt and disgust Jonathon had exhibited, and that was
something she knew she could not endure. Better not to take the risk
in the first place.

It terrified her to acknowledge that Matthew was a man whom she could
quite easily have fallen in love with if the past hadn't stood between
them. And what terrified her even more was the extent of her physical
awareness of him.

All those years ago all her awareness, her attention, her emotions had
been focused on Jonathon, but now she was wondering sickly if, beneath
those emotions, some part of her had responded to Matt on a far deeper
and more hidden level so that, even if she was not aware of it, she had
been attracted to him . had been responsive to him. Very slowly she
followed him into the offices, telling herself that, once the new
manager was installed and Matt was an infrequent visitor, she would be
able to regain control of her life and her emotions, and in the
meantime she would have to learn to live with the turbulence of what
she was feeling.

On Friday she left home a little earlier than usual so that she could
drop her car off at the garage.

One of the mechanics then drove her to work, giving her slender figure
an admiring glance as she sat beside him.

Repressing an urge to tug down the skirt of her suit, Nicola feigned
interest in something in the street outside the car, thankful when the
mechanic finally took the hint and concentrated on driving the car
rather than on trying to make conversation with her.

Evie arrived ten minutes after Nicola, the eye catching brilliance of
her outfit making Nicola blink a little and grin at her as she came
rushing in.

Everyone bar Alan had been warned about the lunchdme gathering. Matt
had undertaken to get Alan there on time, and Nicola had no doubt that
he would do so.

While she was going through the post, three of the men came in to
dismantle Alan's desk.

Matt had asked why Alan wasn't taking it with him, commenting on its
age and value, and Nicola had explained the situation.

"Well, it's his decision, but it's one he could regret later. I think
what we'll do is have it dismantled and put in storage just in case he
does change his mind."

His decision was so close to the one she had privately already made
that Nicola found herself trembling a little with the shock of the
emotion that ran through her. She already knew that the new manager
was going to be supplied with an equally new office, plus some very
sophisticated computer equipment, which she herself was going to have
to learn to use. Mart's confidence in her ability to do so had
certainly been morale- boosting, if a little unnerving.

At eleven o'clock, once the more urgent enquiries had been dealt with,
Nicola told Evie, "I'm just going to slip over to the store, to see if
everything's under control."

"What time are the caterers due?" Evie asked her.

"Half-past eleven."

If had been Mart who had suggested bringing in outside caterers, adding
casually that of course he would pay for the food and the drink they
would need.

She had obtained several sample menus at modest prices, and had been
even more surprised when Mart had announced that what he had in mind
was something a little bit more substantial and enticing.

The caterers arrived exactly on time, unloading their van with very
professional speed and assurance.

Large trestle-tables had been set up in the storage bay, which had been
cleaned out especially for the occasion. It was a warm day, and motes
of dust from the timber which had been stored there hung on the air,
turning gold in the sunshine, the clean smell of timber sharp and
pungent.

The caterers all wore uniforms, the girls in blue and white striped
summer dresses with butchers' aprons over the tops, the men in navy
trousers and blue and white striped shirts.

Matt had wanted to keep the affair as informal as possible, and so the
long trestle-tables had been set up against the walls of the building
with just one small table on a makeshift raised dais from which Matt
would give his speech and present Alan with their gift.

As she looked round, watching the ordered busyness of the caterers,
Nicola wondered how Alan would feel. This would be a very traumatic
day for him--the final severing of his connection with the company he
had worked so hard to build up, the final realisation, perhaps, that
his son was dead.

She walked to the door of the shed and stood by it, her head bowed,
emotional tears stinging her eyes as she dwelt on Alan's pain.

"Nicola ... are you all right?"

She hadn't seen Matt approach, hadn't even realised he was here, and
now, shocked by the unexpected sound of his voice, she lifted her head
jerkily and found that he was within a couple of feet of her, his
forehead creased with concern as he came towards her.

He was dressed casually in worn jeans and a denim shirt, which was
rolled back to reveal his forearms.

A pang of unexpected sensation tore through Nicola, destroying her
frail self-control and, shockingly, she was almost instantly
transported back into the past, to the memory of the way he had leaned
over her that morning, his body smelling of soap and cologne,
his-"Nicola?"

She trembled as she fought off the unwanted memory, not realising it
was the sight of the tears in her eyes that were provoking his
harshness until he demanded, "You're crying. Has someone...?"

Crying. She focused on him and then shook her head, explaining
huskily, "No, there's nothing wrong. I was just thinking of Alan--of
how he must feel today. Where is he?" she added anxiously.

"It isn't twelve yet, and--' - " I know. I've left him over at the
Waddington site. I made the excuse that I had an appointment I bad to
get back for, and told him I'd collect him later. I'm just on my way
home to get changed, but I thought I'd better call in here and check
that you weren't having any problems. "

Originally Matt had been staying in the town's one hotel, but now he
had rented a property several miles away.

"Are you sure you're OK?" he asked her quietly.

One of the caterers came towards the door, and instinctively Nicola
moved out of her way. Matt moved with her, so that disconcertingly
they were both standing in the shadows, the pool of darkness casting a
circle of intimacy around them. He had put his arm out to guide her to
one side as the girl had come past, and now his hand was resting on the
wall behind her, reinforcing the atmosphere of intimacy.

"Yes, yes. I'm fine..."

Was she trembling outwardly as much as she was inside and, if so, was
he aware of it? She felt dizzy, confused, unable to move or think, and
far too intensely aware of him. She couldn't bear to meet his eyes,
and instead stared straight ahead of her. Which was a mistake. Her
eyes seemed to be on a level with the bare column of his throat. His
skin was tanned and smooth. She wanted, she realised with horror, to
reach but and touch it. to touch him! She swallowed quickly, wishing
her head would stop pounding so fast. She could see Matt's chest
falling and lifting with his breathing.

Once she had leaned against that chest, once those hands had circled
her body, had touched and caressed it, had known it so intimately
that-"Nicola!"

The sudden harshness in his voice shocked through her, bringing her
back to reality. She tensed, stepping as far back from him as she
could, her eyes widening in response to the unexpected sensation of the
wall against her back.

"I--I must go ... the caterers..."

She heard herself babbling nervously, anxiety and fear tightening her
body and her voice. Skirting him as carefully as though any kind of
physical contact with him would be lethal to her, she edged past him
and hurried towards the door. Behind her she could sense that he was
moving, following her. Her mouth had gone dry, her muscles ached with
tension.

"No car today," Matt commented as he followed her outside.

She was forced to stop and turn round.

"No," she told him jerkily.

"It's being serviced;

Gordon is picking me up after work. "

She flushed, biting down hard on her bottom lip. Why had she brought
Gordon into the conversation, like a teenager trying to deter an
unwanted admirer with the clumsy subterfuge of introducing an existing
boyfriend?

And it wasn't even as though Matt had even tried to--Just because he
had paid her one compliment, it didn't mean. "I'd better go and get
changed. I'll have Alan back here for twelve-thirty."

Was she imagining things or had Matt's voice become harder, curter?

Later, in her office, she asked herself what it was she was really so
afraid of. Matt obviously hadn't recognised her and, even in the
unlikely event of his actually being attracted to her, he obviously
wasn't the kind of man to persist once he knew a woman was involved
with someone else. So why was she so afraid? Why did she turn into
something resembling a lump of quivering jelly every time he came near
her?

She already knew the answer, and it wasn't one she welcomed. She
closed her eyes, a weakening flood of shame and anguish pouring through
her. Matt had been her first lover, her only lover, even if she could
remember nothing of that time. That must be why she was so physically
responsive to him, so physically aware of him. Her body must at some
deep, atavistic level still be somehow aware of that long-ago intimacy
with his.

Three hours later, surveying the laughing, chattering mass of people
centred in the shed, she reflected that Matt's decision to insist on
this party for Alan had been the right one.

Although at first he had seemed shocked, reluctant almost to allow
himself to be drawn into the proceedings, Alan had quite obviously been
touched by his employees' wish to mark his retirement. There had been
tears in his eyes when he was presented with the engraved goblet, and
she had felt her admiration for Matt increase when, during his short
speech, he had made a grave reference to the reason why Alan had taken
the decision to sell the business. Many men and some women, too, would
have shirked mentioning such a sensitive subject, too embarrassed by
the potential emotional danger of it, to risk referring to it.

As she watched her fellow employees, Nicola found herself wishing that
Matt was different. less likeable, more the man she had initially
assumed him to be when they had first met.

Watching him now with the knowledge behind her of all she had recently
lea mt about him, she found it almost impossible to believe that this
was the same man who had so casually picked her up and had sex with
her; but, as she had reflected earlier, eight years was a long time,
and the social climate had changed a great deal in those eight years.

At four o'clock people started to disperse, and Alan himself left. At
four-thirty the caterers returned to start clearing up; most of her
fellow employees had already left, following the traditional early
closing down of the building trade on a Friday afternoon.

Gordon normally left his office at five o'clock,

so Nicola knew it would be approaching five- thirty before he arrived
to pick her up.

She had checked with the garage and knew that they didn't close until
six, which allowed them a reasonable margin of time to get there and
collect her car.

She hadn't seen Matt for some time, and had assumed that he, too, must
have left, but when she walked into her office, intending to finish off
some work she had started earlier, she was startled to discover that
the communicating door between her office and the one which had been
Alan's, and which Matt was now using, was open, and that Matt himself,
his jacket off, and his shirtsleeves rolled up, was seated behind the
new desk, poring over a sheaf of papers.

He had obviously heard her come in, though, because he put them down
and looked up at her.

"Boyfriend not arrived yet?"

She shook her head, and then said huskily, "He won't be here until
about five-thirty, so I thought I'd just clear up a couple of
things."

As she spoke Matt stood up and moved away from his desk, stretching his
body as he did so. She could hear the faint crack of his bones and
closed her eyes, hating the wave of heat that burned through her as she
became aware of his body, of the bulk and strength of it, of its lean,
taut maleness . of the scent of his skin . the heat of his body.

"I was just about to make myself a cup of coffee... Want one?"

Alan, for all his gentleness, all his formality, would never have made
such an offer. Her mouth dropped a little, and Matt, obviously taking
her silence for agreement, walked past her and into the outer office,
casually plugging in the kettle.

Nicola went back to her own desk. It was uncomfortable, disconcerting,
knowing that Matt was moving about behind her as he made their
coffee.

She tried to concentrate on what she was doing, but her awareness of
him kept coming between her and her work.

Long before he had come to stand beside her and place the mug of coffee
down beside her she had known he was walking towards her.

"Going somewhere nice tonight--you and the boyfriend?" he asked her
casually as he stood beside her.

She frowned, unable for the moment to remember just exactly what they
were doing, and then she recalled that it was Gordon's mother's monthly
Friday for bridge, which meant that Gordon would have to take her and
then pick her up, which meant that they would not be going out.

For some reason she felt reluctant to explain this to Matt, and so she
fibbed as airily as she could.

"No, not really. Just out for something to eat, I expect, and
then..."

"Back to his place," Matt supplied drily.

His assumption that she and Gordon were lovers made her face burn,
although she knew it was a natural enough assumption. She wasn't a
young girl, she and Gordon were in an established relationship.

"Gordon lives with his mother," she told him stiffly.

There was a long pause, during which she didn't look at him, but
attempted instead to concentrate on what was in front of her. It was a
hopeless task. She was so very aware of Matt standing beside her that
there wasn't room in her consciousness for anything else.

When at last the tension in the silence was something she couldn't bear
any longer, she asked him quickly, "And you--are you going out
tonight?"

Immediately she wished the question unasked. After all, what business
of hers was it what he did in his private life? The thought that he
might think she was asking out of a personal interest in that private
life dismayed her.

"I'm going to see my parents. They live just outside Brighton. They
moved there several years ago when my father retired, primarily because
one of my sisters lives in mat area and my parents wanted to be close
to their grandchildren. My second sister and her husband live in
Canada.

"Do you have any siblings?"

"No, I'm an only one..." She frowned as she looked across the room at
the wall-clock and saw that it was almost a quarter to six.

"Something wrong?" Matt asked her.

She shook her head, but obviously he wasn't convinced because he asked
shrewdly, "Boyfriend late?"

When her only response was to bite her lip, he said casually, "You'd
better give him a ring. Didn't you say he was taking you to collect
your car?"

Tactfully he returned to his own office while she picked up the
receiver and then telephoned the number of Gordon's office.

As she had half expected, no one answered.

She waited another five minutes, all the time anxiously aware that she
was now going to be unable to reach the garage before it closed, and
then rather grimly dialled Gordon's home telephone number.

He answered the telephone himself, his voice sharply defensive when she
reminded him that he was supposed to have picked her up.

"Mother isn't very well," he told her.

"I had to come home early from the office, and I just haven't been able
to leave her. It's one of her bilious attacks, and you know how badly
they affect her."

Nicola certainly did. Gordon's mother's bilious attacks had been the
cause of more outings being cancelled than she cared to remember.

"You might have rung me and let me know, Gordon," she commented a
little sharply.

"I'm not going to be able to get to the garage in time to collect my
car now."

"Well, you can collect it in the morning, can't you? I mean, you won't
need it tonight, and your father can run you into town in the
morning."

"I still have to get home tonight," Nicola reminded him crossly, trying
not to react too angrily to his complete lack of regard for her and
their arrangements

"I'm sorry, Nicola," he told her, sounding anything but.

"But with poor Mother feeling so very unwell..."

It was only by reminding herself that she was twenty-six and not
sixteen that Nicola managed to refrain from slamming down the receiver
on him.

She was just dialling the number of a local taxi firm when Matt emerged
from his office.

"Something wrong?" he questioned her.

She put down the receiver and explained tersely, "Gordon isn't going to
be able to pick me up after all. I was just ringing for a taxi to take
me home."

"Don't bother," Matt told her easily.

"I'll run you back."

Immediately hot colour stormed her face.

"Oh, no. There's no need for that," she began to object, worried that
he might think she had been angling for the offer of a lift; but he
brushed aside her protestations, telling her mildly, "It really isn't
any problem. I have to virtually go past your gate, anyway."

Nicola gave him a startled look. She hadn't realised he even knew
where she lived and, as though he were reading her mind, he informed
her casually, "Evie happened to mention where you live. Are you ready
to go now or?"

"Yes, I'm ready," she confirmed.

As they were walking out to. the Land Rover, he commented almost
disapprovingly, "It's a pity your boyfriend didn't think to ring you
earlier, then you could have made other arrangements to collect your
car."

Immediately, and for no good reason that she could think of, Nicola
discovered that she was lying to protect Gordon as she protested
untruthfully, "Oh, he did ring earlier to leave a message, but he
couldn't get through..."

When she turned her head, driven by some impulse she couldn't control,
she discovered that Matt had stopped walking, and that he was regarding
her with a grim, almost bitter expression in his eyes.

"You're very loyal, aren't you, Nicola? I wonder if he is equally
loyal to you."

The gibe made her flush a little, partly because she knew just how
luke-warm Gordon's feelings for her were, and partly because she felt
that she herself was guilty of allowing Matt to think that her
relationship with Gordon was far more emotionally intense than it
actually was.

Reluctantly she followed Matt, who was standing waiting for her.

Of course both her parents would have to be in the front garden when
Matt turned the Land Rover into the drive, and of course Matt would
have to accept when her mother asked if he had time to join them for a
cup of tea.

In the end he stayed for over an hour, and as far as Nicola was
concerned it put the final, irritating thorn in her day when, after he
had gone, her mother asked innocently, "I thought that Gordon was
picking you up and taking you to the garage? Not that I didn't enjoy
meeting Matt. He's an extremely attractive and intelligent man--' "
Gordon's mother isn't well," Nicola said shortly, valiantly trying to
ignore the look in her mother's eyes.

Privately she suspected that Gordon was beginning to find their
relationship as onerous as she did herself, and, if it weren't for Matt
she knew now for sure that she would have been tempted to suggest to
Gordon that they simply stopped seeing one another

17-11-07, 07:57 AM

المشاركة رقم: 77

المعلومات
الكاتب:	نيارااا
اللقب:

البيانات
التسجيل:	Jun 2006
العضوية:	7129
المشاركات:	287
الجنس	أنثى
معدل التقييم:
نقاط التقييم:	43

االدولة

مدونتي

الإتصالات
الحالة:
وسائل الإتصال:

كاتب الموضوع : نيارااا المنتدى : الارشيف

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SIX

'it's tonight that you and Gordon are having dinner with Christine and
Mike, isn't it? "

"Yes," Nicola agreed in answer to her mother's question. She had been
working with Matt for over a fortnight now, and the office work had
settled into an efficient and orderly routine. She only wished it were
equally easy to rule her chaotic emotions.

It was impossible now for her to deny to herself that Matt had a very
powerful and disruptive effect upon her emotionally and physically, but
just so long as she was the only person who knew that . just so long
as she managed to conceal it from everyone else she might manage to
make it safely through the next few weeks until the new manager was
able to take over from Matt, She was feeling increasingly out of
charity with Gordon. He had broken several of their dates with a
variety of weak excuses, and she had promised herself that if he dared
to break tonight's then she was going to tell him that she no longer
wanted to see him.

At half-past seven when the telephone rang and she answered it to learn
from Gordon that he was not going to be able to join her that evening,
she gritted her teeth and told him acidly that in that case she saw no
point in their seeing one another again at all.

Although he protested a little, she could tell that really he was
relieved by her decision.

"Was that Gordon?" her mother enquired, when she replaced the
receiver.

"Yes," Nicola told her, adding emotionlessly, "He can't make it
tonight. His mother isn't well again. I've told him that I don't
think there's any point in our continuing to see one another--at least
not on a one-to-one basis."

It was her mother's softly commiserating, "Oh, darling, I'm so sorry,"
that made her eyes sting a little.

"You needn't be. It isn't like that," she assured her.

"After all, it was hardly the relationship of the century. I expect I
shall miss him, but I'm not exactly heartbroken."

"Well, he is rather dull, and I must admit I could never understand
what you saw in him. I'm afraid dull, worthy men have never really
appealed to me. Now Matt, for instance..."

Nicola felt her heart jerk as though it were held on strings. Her
voice was sharper than she realised when she said fiercely, "Matt is my
boss, Mum, nothing more. He won't be here for much longer, anyway,
and-=--' Realising that she was perhaps over-protesting,

she stopped speaking. It was too late now to ring Christine and
cancel, but fortunately she knew her friend well enough to know that
she wouldn't mind her turning up on her own.

Christine had mentioned that she had invited some business
acquaintances of Mike's, but that the dinner was an informal rather
than a formal affair.

Nicola had been virtually ready when Gordon telephoned. Her dress
wasn't new, being a simple affair in navy silk which she had bought the
previous summer. It had a neat round neckline and long sleeves, and
was, so she thought, eminently suitable for a woman who preferred not
to catch the male eye.

What she did not realise was that the softness of the silk married to
the willow slimness of her figure gave her dress an understated
sensuality that was far, far more enticing than something more
figure-hugging and eye-catching would have been. It was the sort of
dress that made a man look once and then look again, his attention
drawn by the feminine movement of her body beneath its demure sheath of
silk.

With it she was wearing sheer navy tights and plain navy pumps. Some
spirit of defiance made her add a slightly darker lip-gloss than
normal, although once it was on she was tempted to rub it off as she
unwillingly remembered the scarlet lipstick she had once worn. As she
hesitated, she realised that if she delayed much longer she might not
be the first to arrive, which would mean that she wouldn't have an
opportunity to explain what had happened with Gordon to her friend in
private.

When Christine opened the door to her half an hour later, as Nicola had
known she would, she raised her eyebrows and asked, "Where's Gordon?"

"Not coming," Nicola told her grimly, and went on to relay recent
events.

"Well, it's about time you got rid of him," Christine told her
forthrightly.

"I don't think I so much got rid of him, as let him off the hook and
put him out of his misery," Nicola told her drily, adding, "Look, if my
being here on my own is going to mess up your numbers--' " Don't be an
idiot. As a matter of fact, it will actually even them out. Mike
invited a business associate, who doesn't have a wife or, apparently, a
current girlfriend. "

When she saw Nicola's face she laughed.

"Don't worry. I'm not trying to match make I haven't even met him
yet."

She went on to explain that the other two guests were also business
associates of her husband's. Nicola knew them vaguely, as they had
recently moved into the area.

"Anything I can do to help?" she offered.

"Go upstairs and read Peter a story. He knows you're coming and he's
been pestering me all day about it. Now there's a man for you ... if
you can wait twenty odd years for him to grow up," she teased, while
Nicola pulled a face at her before heading for the stairs.

Half an hour later, when she heard male feet coming upstairs and
stopping just inside the bedroom door, she said softly without turning
her head, "Hello, Mike. He's just dropped off..."

Only when she turned her head to smile at her friend's husband she
discovered that it wasn't Mike who was standing there, but Matt.

Her heart seemed to do a triple somersault before starting to bounce
erratically around inside her chest. Although she automatically
started to stand up, the shock of seeing Matt made her sit down again
and stare at him in mute disbelief.

"Christine sent me up to tell you that she's just about to serve
dinner," he told her softly, pitching his voice so that it didn't
disturb the little boy sleeping in his bed.

Matt, here? It seemed impossible, like some kind of waking dream. She
felt as though if she shook her head she would somehow be able to make
him disappear, but when she did so, to her consternation, he remained
stubbornly exactly where he was, waiting for her . watching her.

Uncertainly she got to her feet, unaware of how many betraying emotions
were reflected in her eyes as she walked tensely towards the door.

Why hadn't Christine warned her that Matt would be here? Probably
because her friend was scatty enough not to have made the connection
between Mike's new client and her own new boss, Nicola recognised
numbly as she walked downstairs.

In a daze she walked into the dining-room and was introduced to the
other couple. The wife, Lucinda, ignored Nicola completely, focusing
all her attention on Matt--in a way that made Nicola's heart somersault
again, but this time in a very different way.

She was an enviably tall redhead with sharp green eyes and a full but
somehow predatory mouth. She was wearing a scarlet silk dress which
ought to have clashed with her hair but which somehow did not, its
neckline displaying a generous amount of cleavage.

It was plain that her husband doted on her, and it was also equally
plain as the meal progressed that she was the kind of woman who had
very little time for her own sex. All her attention and her
conversation was conferred on Matt and, as she struggled to get
something more out of her husband than a laconic "Yes' or " No' in
response to her questions, Nicola tried to tell herself that it was
absolutely no concern of hers if Lucinda flirted with Matt, nor if he
chose to respond.

It wasn't until they had reached the pudding stage of the meal that she
finally admitted to herself that the feeling boiling up inside her, as
she tried not to listen to Lucinda's very obvious flirtation with Matt,
was one of jealous resentment.

Pushing away her pudding barely touched, she raised her head to
discover very disconcertingly that Matt was looking at her.

She could feel the hot tide of colour burning slowly up her body as she
wondered how long she had been the focus of his attention and if he
could possibly have recognised what she was feeling, while praying that
he hadn't.

It wasn't until after the meal was over that she realised how quiet and
engrossed she must have been, because Christine asked her when she was
helping her to clear the table, "Are you OK? You didn't seem too upset
earlier when you told me about Gordon, but..."

Numbly Nicola shook her head, unable to explain even to one of her
closest friends what she was really feeling.

"Look, I know I've said some pretty callous things about him ... and I
still don't think that he was the right one for you ... but if you want
to talk about it, or just have a damn good cry..."

Again Nicola shook her head, wondering half hysterically what on earth
Chris would say if she admitted that she had barely given Gordon a
thought all evening, and that instead it was Matt who was occupying not
just her thoughts but her emotions as well.

Giving her a quick, concerned look, Christine turned round and then
exclaimed warmly, "Matt, you shouldn't have bothered, but thanks
anyway..." as she went to take from him the empty dishes he had
carried through to the kitchen.

Nicola almost dropped the things she was holding. She had had no idea
that Matt was there. Her heart started thumping frantically. She
closed her eyes, visualising what could have happened if she had
confided in Christine and he had overheard.

What was there to confide anyway--that once long ago she had spent the
night with him, and had been too drunk to have any recollection of what
had happened? That he had casually informed her that they had been
lovers, and that because of the public way she had left the party with
him she had been taunted with her lack of morals and her sexual
availability? That because of that she had come running home sick at
heart and distraught? That because of that she had shunned all further
sexual contact with men, sickened by her own behaviour and knowing that
any decent, worthwhile man would feel the same way?

How could she tell Chris that after that she was now discovering a very
different Matt Hunt from the one she remembered, and that, even
worse,

she was finding herself becoming more and more emotionally vulnerable
and drawn to him . that she was like a cold and hungry creature
fascinated by fire and warmth, and drawn desperately into seeking it.
circling it with hunger and fear, wanting its warmth and yet terrified
of it at the same time?

She closed her eyes, feeling the tension draining her energy.

What was she trying to tell herself--that she was falling in love with
Matthew Hunt? She made a small, derisory sound under her breath,
causing both Matt and Chris to look at her.

Skirting past Matt, she hurried back to the dining-room, determinedly
busying herself collecting more empty plates, while she tried
frantically to deny the knowledge her own brain was giving her.

The rest of the evening was a form of purgatory. Not only had she to
contend with the knowledge that no matter what the reason, and no
matter how dangerous and self-destructive it was, she was quite
definitely emotionally responsive to Matt in a way which had previously
been totally outside her experience. She had thought once that she was
in love with Jonathon, but then she had been a child, now she was a
woman. An adult--it was like comparing the flicker of a torchlight
with the full power of the sun. And it wasn't just that she was
emotionally responsive to

Matt. Physically, she--She flinched inwardly, knowing that she was so
aware of him that even without turning her head she knew exactly where
he was in the room . that without looking at him she could conjure up
the sensations that invaded and disturbed her whenever he came close to
her.

She told herself fiercely that she was glad that Lucinda was
monopolising him, because that way she was in no danger of making a
fool of herself by. By what? By betraying to him the effect he was
having on her?

If Chris hadn't been one of her oldest friends, she would have made
some excuse and left early. But Nicola was already bitterly aware of
the fact that Chris was concerned about her and erroneously believed
that she was upset about the ending of her relationship with Gordon.

If she left early, Chris was bound to think that it was because of
Gordon and, no matter how much she denied it, Chris wouldn't believe
her unless she told her the truth.

The temptation to do just that astounded her. She wanted, she realised
miserably, to talk about Matt, as though somehow just by speaking his
name she would be easing the growing ache inside herself. Then the
awareness of how quickly she had travelled down a very, very dangerous
road made her feel slightly sick. She wanted to go home . to be alone
. to try to find some way of controlling what was happening to her.

Lucinda's voice had a certain shrill metallic quality to it, and now it
intruded into her silence, causing her to turn her head. Lucinda was
standing with Matt, her hand on his arm while she pouted up at him.
Her body was almost, but not quite, resting against his, the soft
thrust of her breasts clearly discernible. Standing so close to her.

Matt could not help but breathe in her perfume and be aware of her
body.

The sick helplessness that Clawed at her own stomach appalled Nicola.

She discovered that she was actually physically shaking in reaction,
not just to her jealousy but also to her own disgust at it.

When she heard Frank Barrett announcing that it was time he and Lucinda
left, since they had the baby-sitter to run home, the relief that
flowed through her was so total and immediate that it made her feel
physically weak--not because their departure would remove Lucinda from
Matt's presence, but because it meant that she herself could also
leave.

She waited for an unbearable ten minutes after the Barretts had gone
before announcing that she too must leave. Chris tried to persuade her
to stay, watching her worriedly as she half whispered, "If you want to
talk about ... things..."

She shook her head in denial, fibbing uncomfortably, "I'm just a bit
tired."

Mike, who had caught what she'd said, grinned at her, putting a
friendly arm around her shoulders as he teased, "Not because this new
boss of yours is working you too hard, I hope?"

Nicola hoped she sounded far more natural to their ears than she did to
her own as she forced herself to smile and laugh back.

"Gordon couldn't make it, then?" Mike added conversationally, plainly
not yet aware of what had happened.

Out of the corner of her eye Nicola saw Chris made a small moue of
dismay and shake her head warningly at her husband.

"His mother isn't well," Nicola responded shortly. With Matt standing
there she wasn't about to explain to Mike that there wasn't any 'her
and Gordon' any more.

The entire evening had been a strain on her, which, coupled with
everything else that had happened over the last few weeks, was making
her feel as though her whole life was somehow slipping out of her
control, Nicola acknowledged as she unlocked the door of her car and
got inside.

Chris and Mike lived on the other side of the town from her parents,
but she was less than halfway home when she suddenly discovered that
she was trembling so violently that she could barely control the car.

Immediately she pulled off the road into a convenient lay by quickly
switching off the engine.

Everything around her had become frighteningly blurred, but it wasn't
until she raised her hand to her face that she discovered that she was
actually crying.

Her chest felt tight with pain and she couldn't stop trembling. She
leaned forward, closing her eyes, resting her head on the
steering-wheel, too overwhelmed by what was happening to her to do
anything else.

It took the sudden realisation that someone was opening her car door to
jerk her back to real awareness of the fact that she was parked on a
very lonely stretch of road, that it was dark and well past midnight,
and that she was completely on her own.

However, no sooner had a series of panicky thoughts started to flood
her mind than she realised that the person opening the door was Matt.

"I saw you'd stopped and thought you might be having car trouble," he
explained tersely.

It was too late to make any attempt to hide her tears from him. The
swiftly comprehensive glance he had given her in the light flooding the
car as he'd opened the door must have revealed her tear-stained face
quite clearly.

"The car's fine, thanks," she told him.

"It's him, isn't it the boyfriend?" he demanded almost roughly.

"I

heard you telling Christine that it was all over between you. "

He stood up, closing her driver's door before she could say anything.

For a few seconds she thought he had gone, and then she realised he had
simply walked around the car and was now opening the passenger door and
getting in.

While she stared at him, torn between the agonising pleasure of having
him there and the realisation of how dangerous to her this kind of
intimacy was, she heard him saying huskily, "I know you'll have heard
this already, but he really isn't worth it. The man must be a fool if
he doesn't realise..."

He thought she was crying because of Gordon. Automatically Nicola
turned to him to deny it, but he was sitting far too close to her in
the small confines of her compact car and, as she turned her head, he
raised his hand, his fingers warm and hard as they slid against her
face, his thumb brushing away the damp traces of her tears.

"He isn't worth it," he told her again.

She started to tremble, heat flooding her. Her skin was burning where
he was touching it. She had a wild impulse to turn her head and let
her lips explore the hand that cupped her face. She trembled again.

"Nicki, don't..."

She had no awareness of either of them moving, but one or both of them
must have done because suddenly there was no distance between them at
all. Matt's free arm was holding her against him, while his hand slid
into her hair, the touch of his fingers against her scalp almost-almost
tender, she recognised dazedly.

She looked up at him, mutely searching his face, not really
understanding what was motivating his intimacy with, and concern for,
her.

Shadows cloaked his features. All she could see was the dark glitter
of his eyes, the male outline of his mouth as he turned his head
towards her.

Her heart jerked painfully inside her chest. She discovered that,
having focused on his mouth, she could not bring herself to look
away.

Her throat had gone dry, her lungs seemed incapable of drawing in
enough air, her lips parted, a million tiny, aching pulses beating
through her body.

"Nicki..."

His voice was rough, its timbre making her shiver as though he had'
actually touched her skin, caressing its most sensitive points.

When his lips first touched hers, it was no more than a whisper of
sensation, a soft brushing of flesh on flesh, but it sensitised her so
much that she trembled bodily.

Immediately Matt made a soft sound of reassurance against her mouth.

His tongue stroked her lips, and instinctively she felt herself trying
to get even closer to him. Her arms were wrapped around t1"11'
although she had no real awareness of hov^ " ^llad So1there.

The slow stroll of his tongue against her lip8 was dangerously erotic'
making her ache fcrr something more intimate. Her muscles clenched
fiercely as her $snsesreacted to her mind's imagery of how tt^1
Y^ed-for intimacy would make her feel. Matt wasn't we^S a jacket, and
beneath her fingertips she co^ feel the hard PAY of his muscles.

Overwhelmed by her own physical responsiveness to him, she ^aressed his
back and then his shoulders, mmdIe^Y ^"g her emotions and desires take
contr<71 ^ her This must be s^AS she had done before, surely, otherwise
t^ would(i her hands, her entire body, yearn for silo11 " ^macy?

When Matt's ^"th left hers to caress her throat she made 9 sma11'
keening sound of distress, her body tr^^e with urgency, an ache of need
coiling tai^ ^" ugh her.

She must have s^ his "'" "e, although she bad no knowledge of bAS done
so, because almost immediately his n^0" " '" etumed to hers and he was
kissing her ^of as he had done before-gently and explor^^y--1'"I wi an
^vaaa-cy that made her bodY arch and her mouth open 10 eager
invitation.

She felt the shU^^ that convulsed him, her own body registering it and
reacting in an aftershock of small tremors. Her breasts were pressed
hard against his body and had started to ache almost unbearably, not
from the pressure of their embrace but from a far more private,
primitive and sensual cause.

She wanted his hands on her body, she recognised, and not just his
hands. She closed her eyes, shivering, drenched by the hot tide of
need that rocked through her.

Outside, beyond the intimate darkness of the car, a horn blared, tyres
squealing in protest as one car overtook another, the noise shocking
her into abruptly focusing on what she was doing.

As he felt her tense. Matt let her go, his voice low and slightly
rough as he apologised.

"I'm sorry. I never meant...1 didn't intend..."

This time, the burning sensation under her skin was caused not by
desire but by embarrassment, the embarrassment of knowing what Matt was
telling her.

"Look, why don't you leave your car here and let me drive you home?"

he continued.

"You're upset and--' " I'm perfectly capable of driving," she told him
brittly. She wasn't and she knew it, but she felt as though if she had
to spend any more time with him she would shatter like a piece of
overstressed glass.

She still wasn't sure quite what had happened wrapped around him,
although she had no real awareness of how they had got there.

The slow stroke of his tongue against her lips was dangerously erotic,
making her ache for something more intimate. Her muscles clenched
fiercely as her senses reacted to her mind's imagery of how that
yearned-for intimacy would make her feel.

Matt wasn't wearing a jacket, and beneath her fingertips she could feel
the hard play of his muscles.

Overwhelmed by her own physical responsiveness to him, she caressed his
back and then his shoulders, mindlessly letting her emotions and
desires take control of her.

This must be something she had done before, surely, otherwise how would
her hands, her entire body, yearn for such intimacy?

When Matt's mouth left hers to caress her throat she made a small,
keening sound of distress, her body trembling with urgency, an ache of
need coiling tautly through her.

She must have said his name, although she had no knowledge of having
done so, because almost immediately his mouth returned to hers and he
was kissing her not as he had done before-gently and exploratively--but
with an intimacy that made her body arch and her mouth open in eager
invitation.

She felt the shudder that convulsed him, her own body registering it
and reacting in an aftershock of small tremors. Her breasts were
pressed hard against his body and had started to ache almost
unbearably, not from the pressure of their embrace but from a far more
private, primitive and sensual cause.

She wanted his hands on her body, she recognised, and not just his
hands. She closed her eyes, shivering, drenched by the hot tide of
need that rocked through her.

Outside, beyond the intimate darkness of the car, a horn blared, tyres
squealing in protest as one car overtook another, the noise shocking
her into abruptly focusing on what she was doing.

As he felt her tense. Matt let her go, his voice low and slightly
rough as he apologised.

"I'm sorry. I never meant...1 didn't intend..."

This time, the burning sensation under her skin was caused not by
desire but by embarrassment, the embarrassment of knowing what Matt was
telling her.

"Look, why don't you leave your car here and let me drive you home?"

he continued.

"You're upset and--' " I'm perfectly capable of driving," she told him
brittly. She wasn't and she knew it, but she felt as though if she had
to spend any more time with him she would shatter like a piece of
overstressed glass.

She still wasn't sure quite what had happened to her, or how what she
knew Matt had only intended as a gesture of comfort had turned into the
fiercely burning physical desire she had experienced.

If that was how she had behaved that night, no wonder he had looked
so--so smug and self- satisfied in the morning, she thought sickly.

She closed her eyes briefly against the hot burn of fresh tears and
said thickly, "Please, go...1 want to get home..."

She tensed as she felt him hesitate, knowing that if he argued with her
now she would probably break down completely.

"Go, Matt," she demanded.

"Please..."

To her relief he opened the car door and made to get out, pausing to
tell her, "I still don't think you're in any fit state to drive, so
I'll follow you to make sure you get home safely. No arguments," he
added curtly.

"Otherwise, I'll carry you out of this damn thing by force if
necessary..."

Silently Nicola watched him go, suppressing the temptation to race off
into the night before he could return to his own car, knowing that he'd
been quite right when he'd said she wasn't really fit to drive.

Luckily the roads were quiet but, despite the fact that she applied all
her concentration to the task of driving, she was very conscious of the
fact that physically she felt oddly weak, and that her mind kept
straying, drawn dangerously into a whirlpool of thoughts and fears
which had nothing to do with what she was doing and everything to do
with what had happened with Matt.

When she turned into her parents' drive, she glanced in her
driving-mirror and saw that Matt's car was parked at the end of the
drive.

He had been behind her all the way home, monitoring what she was doing,
watching over her. What had motivated him to do that? Guilt, because
he felt responsible for her distraught state? But why should he feel
guilty when she had been the one.

She shuddered as she stopped the car, remembering how she had moaned
beneath his mouth in aching frustration, wanting more. wanting him.
Her skin flushed and she was glad that there was no one to see her, to
witness her shame and anguish.

That Matt had never intended to do more than offer her a comforting
male shoulder to cry on she already knew. Even that first tentative
pressure of his mouth on hers had been comforting rather than
arousing.

As she went inside, she found herself almost wishing that he had
remembered her at first sight. Then, she had no doubt that he would
have avoided her like the plague, then there would have been no
intimacy between them to taunt and disturb her. Then he would have
remembered how she had reacted to him before, even if she could not,
and he would have acted accordingly.

Her first initial fear on recognising him--that he would remember her
and cause her humiliation and embarrassment by doing so, by making her
behaviour public--no longer existed. He was simply not that kind of
man. Witness his behaviour towards her tonight. His kindness. His
concern.

He had even apologised for what had happened when both of them knew
that the real blame lay with her.

Ironically, once she was alone and free to cry, she discovered that she
no longer had any real desire to do so. Neither, it seemed, was she
going to be able to get much sleep, because every time she closed her
eyes she was tormented by far too vivid memories of how she had felt
when Matt had kissed and held her.

Matthew Hunt . Why was she so susceptible to him? Was it because of
the past? As she curled her body into a small, tight ball of distress,
she tried to convince herself that, once Matt had left the area, once
he was only someone who visited the company at rare intervals, she
would soon overcome her present feelings--that, starved of the object
of their desire, her emotions would soon be back under her control.

And just as long as Matt thought, as he obviously did think, that she
loved Gordon, she would be reasonably safe from the humiliation of his
realising how she felt about him.

A tiny, bitter smile curved her mouth. How ironic of fate to send him
back into her life like this. How ironic and cruel. The sensuality
which she had denied she possessed for all these years had, with Matt's
arrival, suddenly burst into eager life, tormenting her with desires
and needs with which she was wholly unfamiliar. Even now, hours later,
the mere memory of his lips touching hers had the power to make her
whole body go taut with aching heat. She even found herself wishing
that she could remember that night she had spent with him so that she
could. So that she could what? Relive it, if only mentally?
Miserably she closed her eyes and willed herself to at least try to go
to sleep

17-11-07, 08:01 AM

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الكاتب:	نيارااا
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كاتب الموضوع : نيارااا المنتدى : الارشيف

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

'nicola, meet Tim Ford. "

"A rather delayed meeting, I'm afraid," Tim commented as he and Nicola
shook hands.

They were in Nicola's office, where she had arrived ten minutes earlier
to discover that Matt was already there and that their new manager was
with him, having been able to return to work a little earlier than had
originally been anticipated.

Trying to ignore the shock of anguish that had hit her with the
realisation that her daily contact with Matt would soon be a thing of
the past, Nicola reminded herself that if she had any sense she would
be feeling relieved that Tim Ford had arrived.

Since the night he had followed her home from the dinner party, she had
been so acutely aware of Matt that working with him had become an
almost unbearable strain.

She was losing weight and growing tense and, even though she knew that
her parents and her friends were concerned about her and had
erroneously put the change in her down to her breakup with Gordon, she
couldn't bring herself to admit the truth to any of them.

It had taken her long enough to admit it to herself. She was in love
with Matt.

She looked at him now, a quick, surreptitious glance under cover of the
conversation he was having.

During office hours. Matt had made no reference whatsoever to what had
happened between them, but on the day following the dinner party he had
called round totally unexpectedly to see her. She had been in the
garden, picking some peas for lunch, her hair scraped back off her
face, and dressed in a pair of tatty jeans and an equally old
T-shirt.

His grave apology for what had happened had left her tongue tied with
guilt and shame, wanting to tell him that she was equally responsible,
but unable to find the words to do so.

He wanted her to know, he had told her, that she need have no fear of
suffering the embarrassment of any kind of sexual harassment from
him;

he knew she loved Gordon; they were both adults, both aware that the
most innocuous of events, when coloured by very powerful emotions,
could result in things happening which had never been intended to
happen.

What he was trying to tell her was that he had never intended to do
anything more than ensure that she was all right. She already knew
that, and his apology had made her feel even worse than she had done
before, especially when she had happened to look up at him and all too
betrayingly remembered what it had felt like to be held in his arms, to
have his mouth caressing hers.

When he'd suggested that both of them put the entire incident out of
their minds, she'd been only too willing to agree.

She realised that Tim Ford was speaking to her, and quickly dragged her
attention back to focus on what he was saying.

He was a pleasant-looking man in his early thirties, whom, she had
learned, was unmarried, and who had worked for Matt for several
years.

His leg was still in plaster from the accident which had immobilised
him and caused the delay in his taking over from Alan.

"Site visits are going to be tricky for a while," he told Nicola
ruefully while Matt was taking a phone call.

He then went on to ask her how she was liking the new computer systems
they were having installed, and whether she had found them to be of any
benefit.

Within half an hour of meeting him, Nicola knew she could work in
harmony with him, probably more efficiently than she could work for
Matt, with whom she was never free of the tensions caused by her
awareness of him as a man.

Matt had finished his call and, when she glanced across at him, unable
to resist the temptation of looking at him, she saw that he was
regarding them with a slight frown. Her own muscles tensed in
response. Had she done something wrong, irritated him in some way?

His, "If you've got a moment, Tim, there are a few things I'd like to
run through with you," was curt and, as Tim walked towards the open
door between the two offices, Nicola heard Matt adding even more curtly
to her, "I'm sure you've got things to do, Nicola, so we won't take up
any more of your time."

His formal "Nicola," when for days he had been referring to her as
Nicki, hurt, as did the very cold and obvious way he was making it
clear that he didn't want her to join them.

Stupid of her to take it so personally, she told herself ten minutes
later, when the door was very firmly closed between their offices, and
she was seated at her own desk, working busily. And that was the
trouble. She had become far, far too personally involved with Matt,
with her own feelings for him . feelings which she knew quite well he
could never reciprocate. And even if he did. what would happen when
she, had to explain. tell him? It went against everything she
believed in most strongly to keep the truth from him. It would have

been bad enough to have to tell him what had happened had the man
concerned been someone else, but when that man was Matt himself. Why
was she worrying so much about some N

thing that was never going to happen? she asked herself miserably half
an hour later. As far as Matt was concerned, she was still in love
with Gordon and, for the sake of her own pride and self-respect, it was
far, far better that he continued to think so.

When the inner office door opened, and Matt and Tim walked out. Matt
told her briefly, "We're just off to lunch now, Nicola. We shouldn't
be too long--' Tim, who was standing behind him, frowned a little and
interrupted, " Oh, but I thought that Nicola was coming with us. "

"I'm sure she's got far more important things to do with her
lunch-hour," Matt contradicted him flatly--so flatly that Nicola bent
her head over the papers on her desk, not wanting either man to see the
hurt that Matt's coolness was causing her.

Ten minutes later, acknowledging that, while she really didn't feel
like anything to eat, some food would probably do her good, she
collected her jacket and left the office.

It was only a short walk into the small town's centre. Wednesday was
market day and the town was busy, but the waitress still managed to
find a small table for Nicola in the window of her favourite wine-bar,
where she could watch the people coming and going outside.

She was just abolit to start her meal when Christine walked in and saw
her.

"Nicki! I thought I might find you in here," she greeted her
enthusiastically as she sat down, eyeing Nicola's plate of pasta
enviously as she commented ruefully, "Lucky you, you can eat what you
like. I'm beginning to look like a house, and now that I'm pregnant
again..."

She laughed as Nicola congratulated her, admitting that both she and
Mike were thrilled about the new baby.

"You should get married and have one your self," Christine teased her,
biting her lip in mortification as she apologised contritely.

"Oh, Nicki, I'm so sorry. That was tactless of me when you and
Gordon..."

"I'm not bothered about Gordon," Nicola told her quietly.

"In fact well, let's just say it was probably the best thing for both
of us. After all, we were never anything more than friends, and not
even particularly good friends... Our relationship was a convenience
that suited us both at the time."

"Then why are you looking as though the world's suddenly caved in on
top of you?" Christine demanded, watching her, adding, "And don't try
denying that something's wrong, Nicki. You've lost weight, you hardly
ever seem to smile these days... In fact, you're exhibiting all the
classic signs of unrequited love."

She stopped and bit her lip again, and then said softly, "Oh, Nicki, it
isn't Gordon at all, is it? It's Matthew Hunt."

Nicola pushed her food away almost untouched, and said bitterly, "It's
the classic thing, isn't it--the dull, plain secretary falling for her
handsome, sexy boss...?"

"No one would ever describe you as dull or plain," Christine objected,
adding thoughtfully, "Is it really unrequited, Nicki? I mean, I
couldn't help noticing at our dinner party that he seemed to want to be
with you."

"I think that was just so that he could evade Lucinda's clutches,"
Nicola told her lightly.

"I don't want to discuss it if you don't mind, Chris. It's just one of
those things, and I'm bound to get over it... Just as long as too many
people don't make the same lightning deductions you've just made. I
hadn't realised I was being so obvious..."

"You aren't," Christine assured her.

"I just happen to know you very well, that's all."

"Well, I'd certainly rather people thought I was heartbroken over
Gordon than know the truth. Matt's leaving the area soon. The new
manager arrived today and, once he's settled in. Matt will be little
more than a casual visitor."

"Leaving, is he?" Christine asked in surprise.

"Well, he hasn't said anything to Mike about terminating his lease of
the house. In fact, I thought Mike said he wanted to extend it."

Nicola shrugged.

"I wouldn't know. Maybe he's keeping it on for Tim Ford, that's the
new man. After all, rented property isn't easy to come by round
here."

She paused, toying worriedly with her uneaten food, and then, keeping
her head bent, asked in a low voice, "You won't say anything
about--about this ... even to Mike, will you, Chris?"

Tears stung her eyes when Christine put her hand over hers and assured
her firmly, "Trust me, Nicki. I can well remember how I felt when I
first fell in love with Mike, and I thought he wasn't interested. I
think I'd have died then if I'd thought that someone might
inadvertently have told him that I loved him. I shan't mention it to
anyone--and that includes Mike. It may not be as bad as you think, you
know," she added softly.

"I couldn't help noticing how attentive he was to you over dinner."

"He was just being polite," Nicola told her shortly. She didn't want
anyone trying to raise her hopes, encouraging her to believe in
something she already knew didn't exist, and, besides, not even Chris
knew the whole story. That chapter of her life, the time she had spent
in the city, was something she had never discussed with anyone, "I'd
better go back," she told Christine, pushing away her plate and
standing up.

"I'm thrilled for you both about the baby."

"Just as well, because we intend to ask you to be godmother," Chris
told her with a grin but, as she watched her friend walk away, her
smile was replaced by a small, anxious frown.

Poor Nicki;

she wished there was something she could do to help her.

With Tim Ford's arrival, Nicola noticed a new distance between herself
and Matt. It was perhaps only natural that he should take a back seat,
allowing Tim to take over the reins of running the business, but still,
it hurt unbearably when she turned to query something with him to be
referred almost curtly to Tim.

And, when he had to speak with her, she found that he was standing
almost feet away from her, whereas before she had often found him
standing so close to her that their bodies had actually been
touching.

Many, many times she had had to resist the impulse to allow herself to
lean into him, to savour the intimacy of even the briefest physical
contact with him, even while she deplored her own lack of
self-control.

Now there was no need for her to exercise any form of physical
self-control; the distance Matt kept between them saw to that.

On his final morning in the office, Matt arrived late, and announced
that he was leaving earlier than planned--at lunchtime.

He had, he announced, decided to take a few days off, which he
explained he intended to spend with his parents.

"My sister and her family are over from Canada. I haven't really seen
her since she got married two years ago."

"Do you have many nieces and nephews?" Nicola found herself asking him
a little enviously. She had always wished she had a larger family,
brothers and sisters . and she envied Matt his married sisters and his
extended family.

"Two nieces, three nephews and one " don't know" as yet," he told her
briefly, a warm smile touching his mouth.

That warm smile made Nicola's stomach muscles quiver. She was, she
discovered shockingly, almost ragingly jealous of his unknown family
and the obvious love he had for them.

He had added that he would probably leave at about two o'clock and,
even though she hated herself for doing so, Nicola discovered that she
was surreptitiously shortening her own lunch- break so that she would
be back in the office well before two, like a miser greedily hoarding
every extra second of his presence.

Only when she walked into the yard, there was no sign of his now
familiar car and, when she passed Tim in the foyer, he told her
casually that Matt had already left.

She was glad she was standing in the shadows, instinctively turning her
head away from him so that he wouldn't see her despair.

"I was wondering," she heard him adding uncertainly, 'if you could give
me a few tips on how to get involved in the local social life. I'm
rather past the age for discos and the like, but not exactly old enough
to join the pipe-and-slippers brigade. 1 don't play golf and--' "I
could introduce you to some people if you like," Nicola offered
instinctively, sympathising with him.

"It can be a long, slow process getting to know new people, especially
in a country area like this. I have a casual arrangement whereby I
often meet a group of friends in a local wine-bar on Friday evening. If
you feel like coming alone..."

"Well, if you're sure you don't mind?"

"Not in the least," Nicola assured him.

In point of fact the last thing she felt like doing was going out, but
staying in moping, aching for a man she could never have, wasn't going
to do her the slightest good, and besides, she reflected, it was
probably time she started disabusing her friends of the notion that she
was pining for Gordon.

Gordon had never really liked or approved of the wine-bar crowd, a
mixed bunch of people, most of them professionals of around her own
age, who liked to meet for a drink and some supper in a casual way on a
Friday evening.

When Tim offered to pick her up, she was about to refuse, but then
changed her mind, feeling that it might be easier if they travelled to
the wine-bar together rather than for her to give him directions.

Later that evening, when she told her parents what she had arranged,
her mother gave her a thoughtful look.

"I'm sorry that Matt isn't staying on. He seemed very pleasant."

Something in her mother's voice rather than the actual words made the
tiny hairs lift on Nicola's neck. Had her mother guessed how she felt
about Matt? Had anyone else guessed? Had Matt himself? Was that why
he had been so remote with her--so cold almost.

Sick despair washed through her as she contemplated this possibility.

As she got ready to go out she told herself that she was glad he had
gone, that now she was no longer in daily contact with him it would be
much easier for her to put him right out of her mind and to concentrate
on getting on with her life.

Just as she was doing right now? she asked herself grimly.

When Tim arrived at eight to pick her up as they had arranged, she
invited him in to meet her parents. Her mother exclaimed over his
injured leg and its heavy cast. Luckily his car was an automatic and
he could still drive, he assured her, when she commented on how
difficult he must be finding life.

He was easy to talk to and, although she hadn't really been looking
forward to going out, Nicola discovered that she quite enjoyed the
evening.

Her friends tactfully made no mention of Gordon, welcoming Tim among
them, although Nicola did detect one or two raised eyebrows when she
introduced him as her new boss, firmly making it clear that theirs was
purely a business relationship.

Halfway through the evening Lucinda Barrett walked in without her
husband and immediately made a bee-line for Nicola, greeting her as
though they were long-lost friends.

Hiding her dislike of her, Nicola politely introduced her to her
friends, gritting her teeth in annoyance when Lucinda smiled archly up
at Tim, and commented to Nicola, "Goodness! You haven't wasted much
dme in replacing Gordon, have you?

Wise girl. By the way, what's happened to Matt? I haven't seen him in
simply ages--although he did call round last week. "

Nicola could feel the heat crawling up under her skin, the anger she
was trying hard to control making her eyes flash a little as she said
flatly, "Tim is my new boss, Lucinda, and as for Matt-he was only here
on a temporary basis, but then, I expect he'll have told you that
himself..."

She couldn't resist that last little jibe, suspecting that Lucinda was
deliberately fabricating an intimacy between herself and Matt which had
not existed--not because the other woman knew how she felt and wanted
to make her jealous, Nicola knew, but because she was simply that sort
of woman.

She had the satisfaction of seeing the too perfectly made-up face flush
a little, a bitter look of dislike flashing from the redhead's eyes
before she turned away from her and started monopolising one of the
men.

"Phew! She seems rather a man-eater," Tim commented later to Nicola
when Lucinda had gone.

"Although I suppose I shouldn't say so, if she's one of your
friends."

"She's not," Nicola assured him, adding a little uncomfortably, "I'm
sorry if you were embarrassed when she implied that you and I ... well,
that you were my boyfriend. I--' " I wasn't embarrassed," he assured
her.

"Envious, perhaps. ,."

When she looked puzzled, he explained softly, "You're a very, very
attractive woman, Nicola, and a very intelligent one as well. That
anyone should think of you as my girlfriend is a real ego-booster. I
don't want to pry but I take it from Lucinda's comment that there isn't
anyone special in your life at the moment...?"

Paint warning bells began to ring in Nicola's brain. She had been
through this scene so many, many times before. A man--a nice, genuine,
decent man--would approach her and show an interest in her, but no
matter how pleasant she found him there was always that barrier of
knowing that ultimately, if she allowed their relationship to grow and
develop, there would come a time when she would have to tell him about
her past.

Besides, she genuinely liked Tim.

"There--there isn't anyone at the moment," she began, 'but--' "But you
don't want to get involved," he concluded wryly for her.

"Just my luck, but this doesn't mean that we can't be friends, I
hope?"

"We can be friends," Nicola agreed.

"Nicola, I haven't mentioned it to you yet, but there's a conference
coming up that both of us ought to attend, according to Matt. It's
being held near Bournemouth at the Grand Hotel, over the weekend of the
twenty-eighth. Matt considers this conference to be very important,
since it deals with various environmental issues concerning the
building trade. Will you be able to come?"

Nicola nodded her head.

"It sounds interesting," she commented.

"How long does the conference last?"

"Only a couple of days. We'll be leaving here mid-morning Friday, and
we should be back Sunday evening."

They discussed the issues likely to be raised by the conference for a
few minutes before Evie appeared to say that Tim was needed in the
yard.

Later that evening, when she was telling her parents about the
conference, her father commented approvingly, "A sound decision on
Matthew Hunt's part, getting his business geared up in tune with the
environmental issues we're all going to be confronting this coming
decade. Those businesses which are first off the block in being
environmentally aware are the ones which are going to be the most
successful."

That night when she went to bed Nicola wondered if Matt would be
attending the conference, her body quickening with sharply painful
desire.

It didn't matter how often she told herself not to do so, she couldn't
seem to stop herself from thinking about him . from wanting him. from
loving him.

Three days before the conference, the foreman handed in his
resignation, announcing that he was going to set up in business on his
own account. After he had dealt with him, Tim turned to Nicola and
commented wryly, "I wonder how many of our men he plans to take with
him."

"If it's any comfort I doubt that any who go will stay with him for
very long," Nicola told him.

"Maybe so, but--Look, I'm going to have to go out on site. If
necessary, until we can find a replacement, I'm going to have to become
an acting foreman myself.

"I've done it before. Matt came into the business the hard way
himself, and he's pretty keen on all his managers at least having a
basic working knowledge of the physical aspects of the building
trade.

Matt was a bit of a rebel when he was younger, apparently.

"He could have joined his father in the City, but instead he chose to
leave school early and take off round the world. That was how he
picked up his various building skills, and then, when he came back, he
worked his way through university, and then decided to set up his own
construction business--very small-time at first..."

A rebel. That accorded with the Matthew Hunt she remembered . the
Matthew Hunt with his well-worn clothes, his casual manner, his
pirate's smile, his easy insouciance after their shared night of sex.

She gave a tiny shiver. A man, given the will to do so, could escape
from the follies of his youth, and even be considered by some to be a
better man for having lived through them; but a woman, even in these
modern times, was still judged in a different way.

On the Thursday before the conference, Tim came into the office late in
the morning and announced that he would be spending the rest of the day
on one of the sites where they had run into some problems.

"Without a foreman, I really need to be there to keep an eye on what's
going on. Will you be OK here? Silly question," he continued without
letting her answer.

"Of course you will. You know, in many ways you're wasted here,
Nicola. You're a first-class administrator; you could become a real
high-flyer if you chose..."

"I don't choose," she told him, adding grimly, "I've tried city life
when I was younger, and I didn't like it."

"No? Well, you aren't alone in that. Men as well as women are
beginning to wonder if they're sacrificing too much to their careers.

Personally, I'm against a single-minded obsession with work.

"You're OK for tomorrow, aren't you? We're leaving here mid-mo
ming--might as well travel there together. Pointless taking two
cars..."

"Yes, my father's going to drop me off in the morning. Save me having
to leave my car parked here all weekend."

Because she wanted to clear her desk, leaving only the post to be dealt
with in the morning, Nicola worked late on Thursday evening.

Tim hadn't returned to the office, and the communicating door between
her office and his was closed. Several times after Evie had left she
looked at it, trying not to fall into the trap of fantasising that the
room beyond her own wasn't really empty at all, and that she only had
to open the door to see Matt sitting at his desk working.

Once, on a ridiculous impulse, she even got up and walked across her
own office, opening the door and standing there, staring hungrily at
the empty desk, mentally picturing Matt's lean frame on the other side
of it.

There was a huge lump in her throat, an agony of need and love that was
almost a physical pain, and there was anger as well. anger against
herself that she should behave so foolishly, so self-indulgently, and
so potentially selfdestructively

17-11-07, 08:04 AM

المشاركة رقم: 79

المعلومات
الكاتب:	نيارااا
اللقب:

البيانات
التسجيل:	Jun 2006
العضوية:	7129
المشاركات:	287
الجنس	أنثى
معدل التقييم:
نقاط التقييم:	43

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كاتب الموضوع : نيارااا المنتدى : الارشيف

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

at eight o'clock on Friday morning, Nicola's father dropped her off in
the yard. She had her suitcase with her, containing all that she
needed for the weekend.

The suit she was wearing wasn't new, but she felt comfortable in it,
and it travelled well, even though the plain grey skirt seemed to have
shrunk a little the last time it was cleaned, so that it was a little
bit shorter than she would have liked.

The jacket that went with it was long and double-breasted, a fine red
line breaking up the plainness of the silky lightweight woollen fabric.
The suit had been expensive, but well worth the money she had paid for
it, as Evie confirmed when she walked into the office an hour later and
admired.

"You look great! Really brill... Pity you didn't have a bright red
shirt to wear with it, though."

Nicola hid a smile. Her plain cream silk shirt was a deliberate
choice. Not for her the scarlet that Evie would plainly have
preferred.

A tiny frown married her forehead. Once she had worn scarlet. A
scarlet lipstick. Her hand trembled a little as she slid a piece of
paper into her machine.

She had another suit in her case, and a pair of neat pleated walking
shorts and a thick sweater, just in case any impromptu meetings took
place in the large grounds that surrounded the hotel; in her experience
there was nothing more uncomfortable than trying to walk across a
smooth lawn in high-heeled shoes, and the shorts were tailored enough
to reinforce her business image.

It had been her mother who had pointed out that there could well be a
certain amount of formality over dinner on Saturday evening, suggesting
that it might be as well for her to take a dress with her.

Unwillingly she had allowed herself to be persuaded into adding her
navy silk-unwillingly, because she didn't think she could ever wear it
again without thinking about Matt. without remembering how he had held
her and kissed her.

They had been due to leave at ten-thirty and, when Tim had not arrived
at that time, Nicola checked her watch a little anxiously.

She knew that he had intended to visit a couple of the sites before
they left, but she had no idea which ones and, since three of their
sites were ones which couldn't be reached by phone, she was just
wondering anxiously what she should do, when Evie exclaimed excitedly,
"Matt--Mr. Hunt has just arrived!"

Nicola had barely managed to quell the frantic, sickening twisting in
her stomach when the door opened and Matt walked in.

He was wearing a suit, a very expensive and well-tailored suit, she
noticed, an immaculate half-inch of laundered white cuff protruding
from its dark-clothed sleeves.

"If you've come to see Tim, I'm afraid--' " I haven't. "

He sounded terse and irritable.

"Evie, if we could have some coffee... Nicola, if you could come
through into the office, I'd like to have a word with you."

He had remembered her. He was going to sack her. He had found out how
she felt about him. Sick with tension, Nicola followed him through
into the other office, numbly noticing how he waited for her to do so
and then closed the door behind her.

"I'm afraid there's been a slight accident," he told her.

"Tim missed his footing on site yesterday. Luckily he hasn't done too
much damage, but it means that, as far as he's concerned at least, the
conference is out. However, that makes it even more imperative that
you attend.

I've discussed the whole thing with him, and we both agree that you're
more than capable of judging what will and what won't be of importance
to this part of the organisation. "But no one wants to force you into
something you may not feel you want to do..."

Nicola's head was whirling. Matt's anger wasn't directed at her, there
was nothing personal in it at all; he was simply irritated because
Tim's accident meant that Tim would not be able to attend the
conference, and that both he and Matt would have to rely on her to use
her judgement to ensure that she evaluated its information properly.

What he was asking her was, was she prepared to take Tim's place and
attend the conference without him?

"I'll have to go home and get my car," she heard herself saying almost
stupidly.

"But of course I'm quite prepared to go. I'm sorry about Tim's
accident, will he ?"

"He'll be fine," Matt told her shortly, breaking off as Evie knocked on
the door to tell her to come in.

While she was handing them their coffee, he said tersely to Nicola, "So
the conference is still on, then. Good. You won't need your car, by
the way. You'll be travelling with me."

Travelling with him} Her hand trembled, sending coffee slopping over
the sides of her mug.

If he was going to the conference, why did he need her to be there?

Surely ?

"Of course, I'll be there in a different capacity. I'm giving a
lecture on the benefits of finding alternative sources of timber, so
that we can do our bit to halt the destruction of much-needed forests,
although of course a good deal of progress has been made in that
direction already..." He went on to talk about the importance of the
conference, but Nicola could hardly take in what he was saying.

She was still trembling violently inside, so much so that she had had
to put down her coffee untouched.

If she had known that attending the conference without Tim meant that
she would have to travel with Matt. She swallowed hard.

"We're already running late," she heard Matt saying.

"I don't want to rush you, Nicola, but if you're ready..."

Ready. ready? She would never be ready for this--for such unexpected
and dangerous intimacy with him, for the mixture of elation and anguish
which seized her every time she saw him. She needed time, time to
prepare herself, to guard herself. She was behaving like a fool, she
chided herself as she saw him walking towards the door. All this fuss,
all this fear and pain simply because she was going to be sharing a car
journey with him. Had she really so little control over herself. over
her emotions . over her love. that she really feared she couldn't sit
beside him for the space of a few hours without betraying what she
felt?

Totally unable to look at him, she hurried towards the door he was
holding open for her

17-11-07, 08:07 AM

المشاركة رقم: 80

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الكاتب:	نيارااا
اللقب:

البيانات
التسجيل:	Jun 2006
العضوية:	7129
المشاركات:	287
الجنس	أنثى
معدل التقييم:
نقاط التقييم:	43

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كاتب الموضوع : نيارااا المنتدى : الارشيف

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

they had been driving for just over an hour when suddenly Matt pulled
off the motorway and on to a quiet side-road.

When he drove into a small village and parked the car outside an
ivy-wreathed hotel, Nicola looked at him in surprise.

"You didn't drink your coffee," he told her.

"When we arrive at the conference, we'll be going straight into a
working lunch. You won't even have time to find your room, never mind
unpack. The first opportunity you'll get to relax, if you're lucky,
will be when you go to bed tonight, and by then your head will be so
full of facts and information that you won't be able to sleep."

"You've got a pocket memo-recorder with you, haven't you? You'll find
it helpful as an aide memoire--mach easier than making written
notes."

He opened his car door and got out, coming round to open her door for
her. Automatically Nicola got out, scrupulously avoiding allowing
their bodies to touch. A small shudder convulsed her as she misjudged
her timing a little so that as he leaned forward to close the car door
his hand just brushed her arm.

"Cold?"

The frowning question made her stomach muscles clench. She shook her
head, still bemused by the fact that he had noticed that she had left
her coffee. He couldn't surely have stopped just because of that.

Silently she followed him into the hotel. A receptionist directed them
to the coffee-lounge, which was already pleasantly busy.

A waitress found them a table by one of the windows, overlooking the
street.

When the coffee came it had obviously just been freshly made. Its rich
aroma made her mouth water, and suddenly, although not even ten seconds
beforehand she would have sworn that a drink was the last thing she
wanted, she discovered that she was longing for the richly fragrant
brew.

"Feel better now?"

She looked up from the cup to discover that Matt was watching her, his
own coffee barely touched. Immediately she flushed.

"And if it's Tim you're concerned about, I don't think he's done any
lasting damage."

Her flush deepened, as Nicola acknowledged herself how little thought
she had actually given to Tim or what had happened to him. She was
becoming far too self-obsessed, she told herself angrily.

Matt, she noticed, still hadn't drunk his coffee, although he was
insisting on her having a second cup. It wasn't until she was halfway
through that it occurred to her that he really must have made this stop
specifically for her benefit.

Her heart jumped fiercely inside her chest, her lungs contracting as
she fought to breathe in. Nonsense, she was being ridiculous. Why on
earth should it matter to Matt whether or not she had a cup of
coffee?

And yet, by the time they eventually left the hotel, he still had
barely drunk any of his and, even though he had brought up several
points concerning the conference while she was drinking hers, they were
things he could have mentioned equally easily while he was driving.

What was the matter with her? she derided herself scornfully as they
walked back to the car. Was she really being stupid enough to try to
convince herself that she mattered to Matt on some personal level?

How could she? She was simply one of his employees, that was all.
They had reached the car now and, without thinking, she moved towards
the door, at the same time as Matt reached out to open it for her.

Just for a moment she felt the hard pressure of his arm against her
body, a sensation of shock combined with sharply painful desire
stabbing through her.

She was, she discovered as she moved away from him, trembling. When
she got into the car and inadvertently caught sight of her own
reflection in the wing-mirror, she saw with sick despair that her eyes
were huge and dark, her face far too pale. Her mouth trembled as she
turned her head away from Matt, defensively letting her hair swing
forward to conceal her expression from him.

She was glad when he asked her if she would mind if he played some
music, relieved not to have to endure the trauma of trying to make
businesslike conversation with him. Quite deliberately she kept her
face averted, forcing herself to pretend an interest in the dull
expanse of motorway landscape beyond the passenger window which she did
not feel, and yet every so often her control broke and, without
realising what she was doing, she found that she had turned her head
and was watching Matt, focusing almost avidly on his face . his body
just the way his hands held the steering-wheel, and that every time she
did so she was filled with such an intensity of emotion and arousal,
felt so sensitive to his presence, that it was almost like being
without a protective layer of skin, almost as though she had already
felt his touch on every part of her body and was responding to it.

By the time they reached the conference hotel she was praying that the
weekend would be just as busy as Matt had warned her it was likely to
be, so that hopefully it would be impossible for her to do anything
other than to concentrate on what was going on.

The intimacy of the car journey had weakened her both physically and
emotionally to the point where when she eventually got out of the car
she barely had the strength left to stand up.

Intent only on trying to control what she was feeling, she was totally
unaware of Matt coming towards her until she felt his arm round her.

"Are you sure you're OK?" he asked her in a low voice.

Hideously conscious of how much she was trembling, not daring to look
up at him in case he read the truth in her eyes, Nicola somehow managed
to nod her head and mumbled untruthfully, "It's just a bit of travel
sickness. I'll be fine in a moment."

She could see that Matt was frowning as he looked at her, and her heart
sank. What on earth must he be thinking? No doubt regretting that he
had ever suggested she attended this conference. She was hardly
presenting an image of businesslike efficiency, was she?

Her fears were confirmed when Matt hesitated and said quietly, "Look if
you're not feeling well--'

"I'll be fine, honestly," she assured him, starting to walk towards the
hotel's main entrance, praying that she would find the resolve from
somewhere to put her own personal feelings under control and to
remember why she was here.

The foyer of the hotel was thronged with people attending the
conference, the heat and noise which struck her as she walked in making
Nicola blink and stand back a little. She had forgotten, working in
her country environment, just how overwhelming and intimidating large
crowds could be.

As she hesitated, she felt Matt's hand on her arm, his presence behind
her, reassuring her at the same time as it scalded her with the heat of
her own physical response to him.

"Wait here," he instructed her.

"I'll check us in and collect our room keys, and then we'd better head
straight for the conference hall."

She ought to have been the one doing that, Nicola acknowledged as she
watched Matt stride over to the desk. It was almost like watching the
Red Sea part, seeing the way the swarming crowd seemed to part as
though by magic to let him through.

And, once he had reached the desk, busy though it was, a receptionist
miraculously appeared to deal with him.

Watching the way the receptionist smiled up at him, Nicola felt her
stomach knot with jealousy.

She turned her head away, telling herself that her behaviour was
ridiculous, wishing with all her heart that things had not gone wrong
and that she was here with Tim and not with Matt. There was, she was
discovering, far more bitterness than sweetness in being with him, far
more pain than pleasure.

"Your key..."

She saw Matt making his way back to her, and took the key he gave
her.

Behind her someone in the crowd jostled her, throwing her off balance a
little. She stepped forward automatically, closing the small space
between Matt and herself, tensing as she felt him reach out to steady
her, his fingers closing round her upper arm, the warmth of his breath
burning her skin. She saw that he was frowning as he looked beyond
her.

"This place is a madhouse. Let's head for the conference room." He
looked at his watch, his hand still holding her.

"It's time we were there anyway."

As they started to make their way through the crowd, Nicola expected
Matt to release her, but he didn't, and she was bumingly conscious of
his hand on her arm, his presence at her side as he guided her across
the crowded foyer.

As they approached the conference area proper, they were stopped and
handed folders of information and name-tags, before proceeding into the
large room, where waitresses were beginning to serve a. buffet lunch.

Almost as soon as they were inside the room, Matt was hailed by another
man. Expecting him to release her, Nicola started to move away from
him, but to her astonishment he didn't let her go.

"This is Nicola Linton, one of my staff," he introduced her to the
other man, who was apparently a civil engineer.

Very quickly the two men were deep in conversation, but Nicola noticed
that Matt was courteously insistent on including her in their
discussion, which was mainly about how the new emphasis on
environmental issues was going to affect the future of the civil
engineering industry.

After that it seemed to Nicola that she barely had time to draw breath,
so frantic and busy did the pace become, as Matt had predicted.

It was just gone six o'clock when the final meeting of the day
eventually broke up and they were free to seek out their rooms.

"Dinner tonight will be a fairly formal affair," Matt warned her as
they waited for the lift to take them to their rooms.

"I suggest we meet in the cocktail bar beforehand, say at about seven
thirty

Tiredly Nicola nodded her head.

There were a hundred notes she wanted to make, a hundred things she had
learnt that had relevance to her own work . things she was sure she
would never be able to remember if she didn't make a note of them;

and it would probably take her half an hour to shower and get changed
ready for dinner.

In addition to that, the air-conditioned atmosphere of the conference
centre had made her long for some proper fresh air. What she really
needed was a good long walk, she reflected wistfully as the lift came
and they got in.

An hour later, when her watch beeped warningly, Nicola switched off the
small tape recorder, frowning a little as she did so. If the rest of
the conference centre was all hurly-burly and business, then at least
her room was a haven of peace and calm. She frowned again as she
looked around it. She had been rather surprised by the luxury of the
room she had been given. It had obviously been very recently
decorated, in soft yellows defined by much deeper blues. From her
window she could see out over the grounds, the room itself was
furnished with good quality reproduction furniture, and her adjoining
bathroom, like the bedroom itself, had quite obviously been
refurbished.

She had noticed that, although the lift had been packed, she and Matt
had been the only two people getting out on their floor. They were,
she suspected, occupying rooms of a far better standard than would
normally have been expected of someone attending a working conference.
Was this yet another indication of Matt's generosity and concern for
his employees?

She moved away from the window, reluctantly acknowledging that she
ought to be getting changed. A small, mirthless smile twisted her lips
as she recognised how little she was looking forward to the coming
evening. An evening spent in Matt's company . in the company of the
man she loved. Her mouth twisted even more bitterly. In theory,
perhaps, a wonderful prospect, but in reality the evening was just
another business meeting as far as Matt was concerned, while for her.
She took a deep breath, her eyes blinded by a sudden rush of tears.

For her the evening would be several more hours of trauma and misery,
during which she would have to fight to conceal her feelings. her
misery, her love. If only Tim hadn't had that accident. If only Matt
hadn't had to take his place.

She put away the recorder and went into the bathroom, quickly turning
on the shower.

Half an hour later she stood in front of her bedroom mirror studying
her reflection. She was wearing the navy dress and, if her face looked
a little too pale, well, that would simply bear out her earlier fib
that she had been feeling car sick. Provided she managed to avoid
allowing Matt to look directly into her eyes, she might just be able to
get away with pretending that it was a physical disorder that was
making her look so pale.

She had washed her hair and blow-dried it, and now there was nothing
left for her to do but to go downstairs to the cocktail bar and meet
Matt.

As she locked her bedroom door, she found herself praying that she
would get through the evening without saying or doing anything to alert
Matt to what was really wrong with her.

It was just after twenty-five to eight when she walked into the crowded
cocktail bar. It took her eyes several seconds to adjust to the gloom
and her ears even longer to adjust to the noise.

Unaware of the interested glances she was receiving from several groups
of men, she stood where she was until she could get her bearings.

When she saw how glamorously some of the other women were dressed, she
was glad that her mother had warned her to pack something a little more
dressy than her business suits. As she looked around the room she
suddenly saw Matt. He was standing several yards away talking to a
very tall, very soignee brunette. She was talking earnestly to him
and, when she suddenly reached out to place her hand on his arm in
emphasis of whatever she was saying, the feeling that pierced Nicola
left her feeling sick and dizzy.

She hated what was happening to her, hated what she was feeling, hated
the feeling of being totally out of control. The room suddenly seemed
oppressively hot, she felt hemmed in, trapped, panic clawed at her.
She turned away, blindingly, wanting to escape but, before she could
move, she heard Matt saying her name.

She forced herself to turn her head, her lips curving into a
meaningless, stiff smile, but, when she looked, Matt was on his own and
the brunette seemed to have disappeared.

"What would you like to drink?" Matt asked her.

She tried to clear her head, to separate herself from the emotions
churning inside her.

"Mineral water, please," she responded tensely.

"I expect we'll be sharing a table with some of the other delegates,"
she heard Matt telling her as he gave their order to a waiter.

"That's the normal format at these affairs unless you're in a large
enough group to occupy a full table. It's one way of getting people to
mingle. What were your impressions of this afternoon, or is it too
soon for you to judge?"

Nicola took a deep breath, thankful to have something on which to focus
her attention, something to distract herself from the burden of her
awareness of Matt the man, rather than Matt the employer.

Once she started talking about the conference, Matt kept the ball
rolling, making several succinct points about what she had lea mt and
gradually she felt a little of her tension starting to slip away from
her.

If it could just be like this for the rest of the weekend; if she could
just force herself to focus on business instead of letting her emotions
get the upper hand, she might have some chance of preserving her sanity
and concealing the truth from Matt. That would be the final
humiliation, if he should guess how she felt.

By the time they went into. dinner she was almost beginning to relax a
little, although she tensed up again when Matt put his hand beneath her
elbow a polite gesture, and one which she knew had been made to her by
any number of men in the past, but none of them had had the effect on
her that Matt had. She knew he must have felt the jolt of tension that
went through her as he touched her. She saw the way he frowned down at
her when she immediately tried to step back from him, and then realised
that the crush of people heading for the dining-room made that
impossible.

In fact, probably because of her lack of height, she actually
discovered she was being carried for wards and almost pushed off her
feet.

As she stumbled a little. Matt reached for her, pulling her into the
protection of his own body. It was a protective, non-sexual gesture he
would no doubt have made to any woman in the same situation, but its
effect on Nicola was devastating.

She literally went weak at the knees, a deep, wrenching shudder
vibrating through her so that she clutched automatically at his arm for
support before she realised exactly what she was doing. When she did
realise, she tried to draw back, but it was too late. Mart's free arm
was firmly around her, holding her so close to him that she could feel
the heat of his body, and the heavy, slightly unsteady thump of his
heartbeat.

When she tried to move. Matt said tersely to her, "Let's just wait a
few seconds and let the first crush get past us."

He seemed to be murmuring the words right into her ear, the sensation
of his warm breath against that delicate orifice causing such a welter
of sensations inside her that she could hardly control her reaction to
them. Beneath the fine silk of her dress she felt i' r breasts swell
and lift, her nipples tightening, a corresponding tiny, pulsing ache
beginning deep within her body, coupled with an overwhelming desire to
let herself relax against him, to press herself even closer to him, to
touch her lips to his throat, his jaw, his mouth. She had to swallow
hard on the small, anguished whimper that scaled the back of her
throat. Guilt and self-disgust twisted through her stomach. She found
she could hardly breathe, and knew that her pulse-rate must be wildly
out of control, but she dared not move, could not move until she felt
Matt step back from her slightly,

relaxing the protecting guard of his arm as he told her, "I think we
can go in now."

Not daring to look at him, she fell into step beside him, only half
able to concentrate on what he was saying. something about not really
understanding the crowd's eagerness to eat a meal which experience must
have warned them would be adequate rather than enticing.

They were the last to arrive at their particular table, and Nicola's
heart sank as she realised that she was the only woman on it.

The other men were obviously all enjoying themselves, to judge by the
male laughter coming from the table as they approached it.

Even though she told herself that she was being an idiot, and an
old-fashioned one at that, Nicola found that she was glad of Matt's
protective bulk, as he pulled out her chair for her so that she could
sit down.

The silence that followed their arrival as the men turned to look at
her, was very unnerving, but nothing prepared her for the shock she
received when, as Matt sat down next to her, she heard someone drawling
unpleasantly, - "Well, well, of all the coincidences. So you two are
together again, are you? Permanently, or is it just another one-night
stand? I seem to recollect that Nicola here excels at those..."

Jonathon. Jonathon Hendry here. and what was more he had recognised
both of them! Nicoh could hardly believe it. She was conscious of i
return of her earlier nausea, combined with ar even more intense need
to escape---not just from the avid curiosity she could see in all those
pair;

of male eyes, not even from Jonathon, and hii malice, but far, far more
important, from Mat himself.

Whenever she had tortured herself wit! visualising the scene where she
had been con fronted with the past, she had never imaginec anything
like this. never dreamed that it woulc be Jonathon who would denounce
her.

She was barely conscious of pushing her chaii back and standing up.

Matt saying her name was a distant perception, a pin-prick of awareness
ira vast sea of drowning humiliation from whicl- she had to escape.

There were still diners straggling into the dining-room. She bumped
into several of them ir her haste to escape, unaware of the looks of
curiosity and concern that followed her unsteady flight.

At the table she had just left Matt stood up watching her. He was just
about to follow her when Jonathon stood up as well, apologising
insincerely.

"Sorry about that, " old man. Didn't realise I was putting my foot in
it. "

He froze as Matt turned his head and looked at him.

"I've never liked you, Hendry. That's why I ceased doing business with
your firm," Matt told him levelly.

"I don't consider myself to be a violent man, in fact, normally I find
physical violence despicable.

Don't tempt me to change my mind, will you? "

The other men at the table were shuffling uncomfortably in their seats.
It was quite obvious to them who would be the victor in any kind of
combat between them, whether verbal, mental or physical. Matt watched
as Jonathon's face turned puce. He moved swiftly from one foot to the
other and started to bluster.

"It was just a joke, old man... Didn't mean anything. After all, she
hardly kept it a secret that she'd spent the night with you, did she?

It was obvious from the state she was in when she came to work the next
day what had happened. Must say I was surprised. Quite the little
prude, she made herself out to be, and then goes off with you right in
the middle of my father's birthday do! Surprised to see you're still
together, though. After all, a man doesn't--' "I think you've said
enough," Matt interrupted him acidly. Then he added contemptuously,
"I'm sure you gentlemen will understand if I don't join you for
dinner... I've suddenly lost my appetite."

As he walked away from the table, he was frowning. Nicola was that
girl from all those years ago. that tiny, immature little girl who had
so carelessly and so dangerously--so desperately, almost--flirted with
him and then. Strolling through the foyer, he remembered how tempted
he had been by her even then, how hard he had had to fight to stop
himself from mindlessly and dangerously giving in to the desire she had
aroused in him, not just for his sake but for hers, too. She had still
been a baby, really, for all that atrocious make-up and that wild mass
of hair.

He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked back down the
years. She had recognised him, of course, even if he had not
recognised her, and to judge from her reaction to Jonathon's gibe. He
looked thoughtfully across the foyer, his frown deepening as he
remembered how at the time he had intended to talk to her as though she
were one of his younger sisters, to warn her of the danger she was
running--but he had been due to leave for the States, and then there
had been the complication of the unexpected surge of desire for her.

He turned round and walked back to the reception desk. The girl behind
it looked at him a little uncertainly as he made his request, but then,
after a moment's consideration, she handed him what he had asked for.

* * *

Upstairs in her room, Nicola was frantically packing her things into
her case, with no clear idea of exactly how she was going to get home,
only a burning need to escape from the scene of her appalling
humiliation just as quickly as she could.

She hadn't dared look directly at Matt when Jonathon had made his
denouement, and afterwards she had felt too physically ill to do
anything other than give in to her need for flight.

Now as she packed, she was still shaking, shivering, really, like a
terrified animal. Why had she not realised that Jonathon might be at
the conference? Why had she not known that he would recognise
her--both of them?

That way she could have. What? Refused to attend the conference? She
shivered more intensely.

She would rather a thousand times that Matt had recognised her himself,
no matter how painful that would have been, rather than endure what had
just happened, although it wasn't so much the public humiliation that
had panicked her.

It was what Matt must be thinking. knowing now who she actually was.
remembering. And he must have remembered. She made a small, anguished
sound she didn't even hear, the sound of an animal caught in a trap.

Well, it was over now. There was no way she could continue working for
Matt, no way he would want to have her working for him. Even if she
hadn't made a total fool of herself by rushing out of the dining-room
like that, the very fact that she was who she was. She had no idea
what she was going to tell her parents. Her mouth twisted wryly.
Probably the truth. She had no resources left to conjure up some
suitably convincing fiction, and anyway, she was tired of living a lie.
of having to pretend . of daily, almost hourly being terrified that
Matt was going to look at her and remember.

She didn't hear the pass-key turn in the lock, and her first intimation
of Matt's presence was when she turned her head and saw him standing in
the door, sombrely watching her.

Immediately she tensed, unable to stop the wave of hot colour that
burned over her skin.

"Good, you've almost packed," she heard him saying evenly.

She went as white as she had been red, unable to control her reaction
to the pain she was suffering.

She had known what would happen, of course . had known that he
wouldn't tolerate any kind of relationship between them now, either
personal or professional--but still, to hear him saying it, to see the
coldness in his eyes and to hear the remoteness in his voice made
Nicola feel physically sick with an anguish she simply could not
control.

She hadn't expected that he would do this, that he would follow her up
here to watch while she left. to make sure that she left, she
reflected.

When he'd opened the door, she had been in the act of putting the last
of her things into her case, and now, as she stood there shivering, he
came towards her, closing the door behind him, saying curtly.

"Is that everything?"

Numbly she nodded, biting down hard on her bottom lip to stop herself
from crying.

Somehow or other she managed to deposit what she was holding in the
case on the bed, but when she tried to close it she was trembling so
much, felt so weak that even that simple task was beyond her.

When Matt pushed her out of the way she flinched physically from him,
sick with self- disgust and the horror of what had happened.

She heard him closing the case, snapping the locks tight. When he
picked it up off the bed and turned towards her, she watched him
numbly, still unable to look into his face.

She could see his hand, lean, hard, the nails cut short, a working hand
. a man's hand. his fingertips slightly rough. She gave a deep
wrench--shudder. Once that hand. those hands had touched her.
caressed her. known her more intimately than any other male hands ever
had or ever would, and yet she had no memory of that intimacy, no
awareness of it.

"If you're ready..."

Ready? She trembled wildly. Surely. He was still holding her case
and seemed determined to keep on doing so. Did he actually want to
physically ensure that she left the hotel?

Was that the purpose behind his presence here?

She still couldn't speak. If she did. She took a deep, gulping breath
of ai rand nodded her head, tensing as he strode past her and opened
the door.

She wanted to object, to protest that he had no need to do this, no
need to add this further humiliation to what she had already
suffered;

but she simply could not find the strength to do so.

In the lift she stood as far away from him as she possibly could, and
yet still she was acutely aware of him--of his presence. his heat.
his maleness . his power.

The hotel foyer was almost deserted. As he headed for the main exit.

Matt stopped her, gesturing towards the reception desk as he said
curtly.

"Wait here."

She had no option since he still had her case. As she watched him hand
in her key and say something to the receptionist, she realised that she
ought to ask the girl to get her a taxi, but then, perhaps there was a
taxi rank somewhere outside. Most hotels did seem to have them these
days.

In Bournemouth itself she could get a train not directly home, perhaps,
but to somewhere where she could change lines and then-As she tried to
clear her muddled thoughts to make some effort to pull herself free of
the shocked trauma that still gripped her. Matt came back to her.

Even now his good manners didn't fail him, she noticed miserably as he
opened the door for her.

She looked tensely around, hoping to see some sign of a lurking taxi,
but Matt was taking hold of her, urging her towards the car park, and
it would have taken more physical energy than she possessed to resist
him.

It was only when she realised that he was leading her towards his
parked car that she stopped, but he seemed not to notice her shock
because he walked past her and opened the door, calmly placing her case
in the boot.

It was cool outside, and she shivered in her thin silk dress, her body
now reacting physically to the shock she had suffered.

"You're cold," he told her quietly.

"Get in the car."

"Get in the car...?" Nicola stared at him, her face flooding with
colour again. She knew how much he must want to be rid of her, but
this was taking things to ridiculous extremes. Surely he didn't think
she might actually want to stay after what had happened? Surely he
must realise that, no matter how badly she had behaved in the past,

she was an adult now, not a child.

"There's no need for this," she told him huskily.

"I can get a taxi. I realise you want me to leave--' " We're both
leaving," Matt interrupted her curtly.

"Now please get in the car."

They were both leaving? Nicola's guilt increased tenfold. Confronted
by Jonathon's gibe, she had thought only of herself, her own reactions,
now she was forced to realise that Jonathon had not only humiliated
her, but that he had also humiliated Matt, although in a different
way.

Matt wasn't that casually-dressed, insouciant young man of eight years
ago any more. Now he was a respected, astute businessman, whose
credibility could suffer untold damage if it became public knowledge
that he had attended such an important conference accompanied not so
much by a responsible member of his staff, but by a woman with whom he
was having some kind of brief sexual fling--which was what Jonathon had
been intimating, and what Jonathon would continue to intimate, and
enjoy doing so, she recognised as she shivered on the tarmac.

She wasn't aware of Matt coming towards her until she heard him say
warningly, "The car, Nicola," and realised from the look on his face
that if she didn't do so voluntarily she could quite easily find
herself being placed bodily and forcibly in that vehicle.

Shakily she walked away from him and got into the car. If she had
thought the drive out here an ordeal, then how on earth was she going
to endure the return home?

The only thing she could do, she decided sickly when Matt got in beside
her and started the engine, was to turn away from him and pretend she
had gone.

That way, at least they would both be spared having to speak to one
another. That she owed him an apology she knew, but she had no idea
how to frame it, and besides, what good would mere words do? They
couldn't wipe out what had happened.

It showed how Matt felt about the incident that he had actually left
the conference because of it. That realisation added to her guilt as
she turned away from him and determinedly closed her eyes, barely aware
of the soft click of the central locking system being activated as Matt
set the car in motion.

No matter how urgently he wanted to talk to her, he couldn't do so now.
not here at the hotel. and certainly not while he was driving.

He glanced at his watch.

It was close to nine o'clock now. Which meant that it would be going
on for midnight before they got back. He looked thoughtfully at
Nicola's still form. She was far too tense really to be asleep. As he
studied the soft sweep Oi. her hair, so softly silky and sleek, he
smiled to himself, remembering the mass of tousled curls, the too
bright clothes, the startling make-up. No wonder he hadn't recognised
her--at least, not visually.

His body might have done, though. It had certainly reacted to her with
a startling intensity. And his emotions? He tensed a little,
remembering how often he had thought about her when he was in America.
how quickly he had tried to contact her once he got back. Only she had
left then, and according to her former employers she had not left any
forwarding address.

He thought he was beginning to understand why. He hadn't missed the
way she had been watching Jonathon, that night, when she'd thought
herself unobserved, and he had had enough experience of teenage girls
from his own sisters to recognise one in the throes of a bad crush.

Initially that had been one of the reasons he had played up to
her--because he felt sorry for her, and because he hadn't particularly
liked Jonathon Hendry even then.

Tense with misery, Nicola stared out of the car window, longing for the
journey to be over. With any luck her parents would be in bed when she
got back, which at least meant that she would not have to make any
explanations to them until tomorrow. Tomorrow. She smiled painfully
to herself, wishing she were a hundred years away from what was
happening to her, and knowing that no matter how much time passed she
would never forget the anguish of this evening