Her Man with Iceberg Eyes (23 page)

Then she’d have lunch with her old friend and
workmate, Shelley, and ask how her successor was coping...just in
case there was an opening there again.

And after that she’d get the bus back to the
gallery in Newmarket and hope they still had the painting which had
most appealed the previous day. It wasn’t by a big-name artist, but
the talent was obvious, and who knew what the future held for
them?

It was a naked angel—a hard-muscled man
lazing on something that might be heavenly clouds. A huge feathered
wing cast enough shadow to make him almost decent. The rest of the
body was definitively beautifully male. She’d need a taxi to bring
him home.

Later that afternoon Kate paid the driver and
eased out of the cab with the long painting. Steering the angel
safely around the corner in the front entrance would be difficult.
She dug the garage remote from her bag and zapped the door. It
shuddered upward, and she sidled past the car and through to her
bedroom. She stood the angel on end against the big chest of
drawers. Her mother’s basic tool-kit was stored in the wardrobe,
and she lifted it out in readiness. Then she kicked off her shoes
and headed toward the kitchen.

And froze.

How long had he been sitting there?

From the kitchen counter she had an
unobstructed view through the dining room and out to the sheltered
timber deck. A graceful wisteria vine twined around the supports
and framed the view in spring and summer. Now it was winter-bare,
and the tall dark haired man was clearly visible in profile. He sat
on one of the chairs at the outdoor table, unmoving. Kate crept a
few steps closer to see him better.

Definitely Matthew.

Drawing breath was almost impossible.

Why was he still there? He’d have heard the
garage door opening and closing, and known she’d returned.

Kate shuffled backward, groping for the end
of the counter, and sagging against it. Her hands trembled and her
heart beat frantically. Presumably he’d knocked, and not finding
her at home, had opened the side gate and decided to wait her out.
She’d been gone since mid morning. How long had he been there? It
was four-thirty now—hours might have crept by.

She made coffee. One coffee.

Stood there sipping as he sat unmoving. Was
he waiting for her to go out and beg his forgiveness? When she’d
done nothing except try to find the sketches of her own body? She
finished the drink, slowly regaining her courage, and turning dark
thoughts over in her mind.

Matthew pushed back the chair and rose. Kate
trembled all over again and grabbed the counter for support.

She waited for him to knock.

He never did.

She had no idea how long she stood there,
tense and trembling, wondering what he’d say and what she’d
reply.

Finally she realised he’d gone. He’d come to
see her, and she’d ignored him as though he didn’t exist.

She yelled his name and raced along the
hallway, wrenching the front door open, leaving it swinging wide.
Down the steps, shoeless. Over the rough paving of the long cobbled
driveway, heedless of her pantyhose being snagged and shredded, and
the ladders whizzing up her legs. She dragged her skirt up so she
could run faster, sprinting along toward the now distant man
walking away from her, cell phone to ear.

She finally swerved to a halt in front of
him, eyes wide, hair wild, breasts heaving.

“Forget the cab for now,” he said, slipping
the phone into his pocket and meeting her accusing gaze.

“You didn’t knock,” she panted. “You were
right there and you didn’t knock.”

“You didn’t ask me in,” he replied quietly.
“It was your call, Katie. I messed it up. You knew I was there. You
knew I’d come all this way to you. I waited as long as I could bear
to.”

As he could
bear
to? He couldn’t
possibly have felt as wretched as she had, could he? Tiny sparks of
hope ignited in her brain like fireflies. She tugged her skirt
down, grimaced at the ladders, then returned her eyes to his. “You
should have knocked.”

“Should I? I assumed you wanted nothing more
to do with me when you didn’t come out. I wouldn’t blame you.”

She tried to speak again. Her throat had the
biggest lump, and she almost couldn’t force her voice past it.
“Come back and have coffee at least,” she begged.

His lips twitched. “Will you make two this
time?”

Oh God,
how
cruel that must
have looked
.

She swallowed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.
Just needed something to calm my nerves...give me time... I didn’t
know you could see me.”

He sighed, reached a hand toward her, then
pulled it back again as though he had no right to touch her. “I
can’t see anything else. I haven’t seen anything except you since
the day you left.”

Kate gazed into his glistening eyes, heart
thumping madly.

“Good,” she said. “Me either.”

Matthew reached across again, this time to
touch her hair.

“Must be a mess,” Kate said, shrugging.

“Beautiful mess.” He smoothed his knuckles
down the side of her face, stroking softly, barely believing she
hadn’t slapped him away. “Need to talk about things,” he muttered.
“Need to tell you why I was such a bloody fool.”

Kate tipped her head on one side and regarded
him as though he was a laboratory specimen. Then she glanced down
at her feet. “It better be good,” she said. “Not such a beautiful
mess down there.”

Matthew looked too, squatted, and cursed
softly. Her pantyhose were in rags. A couple of her pretty little
toes oozed blood. He held out a hand. “Show me.”

Kate leaned on his shoulder for balance and
gingerly placed her foot on his upturned palm.

He cursed again. “You shouldn’t have run
after me without shoes.”

“Wasn’t thinking. I wanted to see why you
were here.”

He bent his head with relief, and then kissed
the side of her knee. “I’ll give you a piggy-back home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I can walk.”

“Not being ridiculous. You’re bleeding, and
you know perfectly well I can carry you.” He glanced up, pleased to
see she’d bitten her lip, and was maybe remembering how he’d
carried her across the spa room impaled on his cock before he set
her down on the cabinet and fucked her so urgently. Her quick
sprint along the street had brought colour to her face, but he also
detected a hint of bashful recollection, thank God. “We need to
sort things out, Katie. Let me carry you. I’ll probably find it
easier to talk if I don’t have to look you in the eye.”

She snorted at that. “I won’t know if you’re
telling me the truth.”

“Yes you will. I’ve never lied to you and I’m
not starting now.”

“You’ve got some pretty warped ideas about
the truth, then.”

He ignored her jibe because the chance to
make things right between them was too important to jeopardise. He
stood and turned, squatting enough to encourage her to climb on his
back, and knowing he deserved her scorn after the way he’d treated
her.

“How are you going to carry your briefcase
now?” she asked after he’d straightened up.

He heard the trace of humour in her voice and
put her down again. “Can you carry it if I carry
you?
”

She sent him half a grin. “Probably. But I’ll
hardly be decent,” she added, hitching her skirt way up her thighs
again.

Matthew’s eyes followed, and he groaned out
loud before handing her the briefcase and turning his back on her.
He wanted those legs wrapped around his waist right now. And later
in bed. Wanted to push his face up between them and drive her
insane with his tongue. Wanted her so badly he didn’t know how to
start telling her. “Hop on,” he said in a strangled voice.

“Thank you. You don’t have to do this.”

“I’m offering. Make the most of me.” He
braced himself to take her weight, settled his arms under her legs,
and smiled unseen as she wrapped a hand around his chest and
grumbled about having to carry the briefcase.

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what was
inside.”

“What?”

He didn’t reply as he set off walking.

“
What?”

“Files you father would give his right arm
for.”

“Dad?”

Matthew detected genuine confusion in her
tone, and knew this time he could believe her. “We’re in total
competition as far as business goes.” He hitched her a little
higher on his back and walked on, waiting to see if she’d make the
connection. She left him in no doubt when she whacked him on the
thigh with the briefcase.

“Put me down!”

“Not a hope. I’ve got you now, and I’m
keeping you.”

He heard her annoyed exhalation right next to
his ear. Felt her soft hair caressing his neck and the side of his
face.

“You thought I was a spy?” she accused.

“Wondered. A bit.”

“Ridiculous man.” But she said it with a
hitch in her voice that gave him hope.

“Forgive me, Katie. I’d just had a real shock
with Lottie falling. Her ankle was giving her hell and she was
screaming blue murder. Her head was bleeding torrents.”

“How is she now?” Kate demanded.

“Too darn stroppy. Doing well.” He turned
slightly and smoothed the side his face against hers as he
continued walking. “I got her to hospital and she dug out your CV.
That’s when I found the girl I had to entertain for the day was
named Pleasance. And you were tall, like Rob...”

“You weren’t very welcoming. I wondered why
you were so cold.”

“Not cold. Worried for sure. About both you
and Lottie.”

“Cold,” she repeated.

“I bought you a nice lunch.”

“And quizzed me like a criminal! I knew there
was something you were trying to dig out of me. Well bad luck,
Matthew, there was nothing to dig.” She nuzzled his ear and nipped
the rim of it before locating his lobe and sucking it briefly. “Go
on. You’re not nearly forgiven yet.”

Matthew closed his eyes for a few seconds and
strode on. The sudden heat of her mouth had been a wonderful shock.
“I was married to someone who tried to take me for a lot of money.
My fault. Obviously I didn’t treat her well enough or
something...”

Kate snatched a deep breath and huffed it out
again. “Or you chose wrong.”

“Yeah, lost all the ladies I loved and
trusted when I was too young. Had no nice examples left.”

“Lottie?”

“My mother first of all. It was only
appendicitis, but up in the Pacific the medical help can be far
away, and Dad got her there too late.”

“How old were you?” Kate asked softly,
shifting her weight.

“Five. It’s too young to lose your mum. Dad
married again pretty fast. I guess he was lonely, and felt Hamish
and I needed a mother.”

“And that didn’t work?”

“Worked fine for two young boys. Cornelia was
warm and outgoing. Won us over in no time.” He shook his head,
enjoying the way Kate’s hair brushed the side of his face. “But she
couldn’t stand the island life. Held on for several years, but
finally gave in and took Lottie back to her family in The
Netherlands.”

“So you lost your mother, your stepmother and
your sister?”

“Yeah.” He fell silent.

“How long were you married?”

“Three years. I had to travel a lot. Left her
on her own too much. She found someone else.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Kate protested, voice
soft in his ear. “It takes two.”

“It took two on that occasion. He was a
scheming bastard—almost as bad as she was. The telco business is
cut-throat. Martine was a clever bitch with the same background.
Made the most of her knowledge to try for a very big divorce
settlement. Stuck with me just long enough for the half-and-half
law to kick in.”

“And she got half?”

Matthew turned into the driveway of Kate’s
townhouse, adjusting the length of his stride because of the slope.
“No. Tried very hard for half. Thought she was entitled, and tried
to swing things that way. But there’s a difference between what
they class as ‘relationship property’ and ‘separate property’ under
New Zealand law. Thank God I hadn’t built the house by then.”

“Or they’d have awarded her half?”

“Yep. So, when I found you searching my
office...”

“But I wasn’t looking for anything secret.
Put me down.” She tried to wriggle off again, and Matthew used his
superior strength to hold her firmly in place.

“There’s more to it than that. Stay
there—thirty seconds and you’re home.” He walked as far as the open
front door and set her down. “Not room for two of us to get round
that bend.”

Kate glared at him. “That’s why I brought the
painting in through the garage.” She motioned him to the outdoor
table. “Unless you want to make coffee while I get cleaned up and
find some Band-aids?”

Matthew watched her limp up the hallway
toward what he presumed was the bathroom. “Can I help? I’m looking
for an excuse to grovel at your feet, after all?”

“Make the coffee,” she said, trying for stern
but letting a giggle break through.

He caught the flash of her smile, and his
hopes rose a notch. By the time she returned, he’d boiled the
electric kettle and spooned the granules into two mugs.

“Just a bit of skin,” she said. “Nothing that
won’t heal in a few days.”

He stepped closer and drew him against him,
burying his nose in her hair. “But it’s
your
skin, and I’m
very fond of your skin.”

“My thieving skin,” she mocked, trying to
pull away.

He knew better than to hold her against her
will. “At least let me tell you the rest. You can’t think me much
more of a fool than you already do.” He poured the water into the
mugs.

Kate reached into the fridge for milk, and
snagged a sugar bowl from the pantry. She carried both to the
outdoor table and sat. “I’m listening.”