In Too Deep (2 page)

“We need to talk, Matthew.”

He looked away, well aware that his demeanor was distant. She had wrapped him around her finger once but she
wouldn't be doing it again. He would be the first to admit he was still having problems with the fact that she'd walked out on their marriage. That said, he was only human, and if he continued to look into the depths of her dark eyes, he would remember things he didn't want to. Like how her eyes would darken when her body exploded beneath him in a climax.

He pulled in a deep breath and met her gaze again when he felt his heart harden. “No, we don't need to talk, Carmen. When you left me, you said it all. Now if you will excuse me, the first match is about to begin.”

And he walked off and left her standing there.

E
very nerve in Carmen's body tingled in anger as she drove off the grounds of the Seven Oaks Farm. After Matthew's kiss, no doubt rumors of a possible reconciliation would begin circulating again. Feigning a headache to several people, she had gotten into her car and left.

It was a beautiful July day and as she drove past the stables in her convertible sports car, she doubted if Matthew even cared that he'd ruined what would have been a perfect afternoon for her. He'd probably known when he'd shown up what would happen, which only proved once again what a selfish person he was.

Somehow he had lost sight of what she'd told him about her parents' marriage—how her father's need to be a successful financial adviser and her mother's drive to become the most prominent real-estate agent in Memphis had isolated them from each other, which eventually led to their divorce. She had wanted more from her marriage
to Matthew, but in the end, he had somehow given her even less.

Glancing around, she admired the countryside and regretted she would have to leave though she'd just gotten here yesterday. Her summer vacation had been spoiled. She pulled in a frustrated breath, wondering just what kind of business deal he'd made that would take him from California. As her hair blew in the wind she decided she really didn't care. What he did was no concern of hers.

Moments later she turned down the narrow street that led to their estate and within seconds, the sprawling beachfront home loomed before her. She could remember the first time Matthew had brought her here, months after they'd married, promising this would be the place where they would spend all of their summers. She had come every summer after that, but he'd been too busy to get away. His work had taken precedence over spending time together.

As she parked in the driveway and got out of the car, she couldn't help wondering if Matthew had plans to bring Candy Sumlar here. Would he spend more time with his girlfriend than he had his wife?

The thought that he probably would annoyed the hell out of her. She fumed all the way to the front door and slammed it shut behind her before glancing around. When she'd walked through the doors yesterday evening upon arriving, she had felt warm and welcomed. Now she felt cold and unwanted.

She quickly went upstairs, determined to pack and be miles away by the time the polo match was over and Matthew returned. There was no way he would do the gentlemanly thing and go somewhere else. It didn't matter one iota that she had been here first.

Entering the bedroom, she stopped. He had placed his luggage in here, open, on the bed. Had he been surprised
to find she was already in residence? He'd wasted no time finding her to let her know he was here. And he had kissed her, of all things. She placed her fingers on her mouth, still able to feel the impression of his lips there.

Shaking off the feeling, she went to the closet and flung it open. She sucked in a deep breath. His clothes were already hanging in there, right next to hers. Seeing their clothes together reminded her of how things used to be, and her heart felt heavy and threatened to break all over again.

She pushed his clothing out the way and grabbed an armful of hers, tossing it on the bed. She was glancing around for her luggage when she suddenly felt stupid for letting Matthew ruin the summer she had been looking forward to for months. Why should she be the one to leave?

She was tired of running. For a full year following her divorce, she had avoided going to places where she thought he would be, and had stayed out of the limelight as much as she could. She had practically become a workaholic just like him, and now she wanted to have some fun. Why was she allowing him to rain on her parade, to make her life miserable when really she should be making
his
miserable?

Suddenly, she knew just the way to do it.

She hung her clothes back in the closet. It was time to give Matthew Birmingham a taste of his own medicine, Carmen style. She would work him over, do everything in her power to make it impossible for him to resist her, and then when he thought he had her just where he wanted—on her back, beneath him in bed—she would call it a wrap and leave him high and dry…and hopefully hard as a rock.

She smiled. The taste of revenge had never been sweeter.

 

Matthew walked into the house, closed the door behind him and glanced around. He'd been surprised to see Carmen's car parked in the driveway. He'd expected her to be long gone by now.

Ardella Rowe had sought him out during divot stomping to let him know of Carmen's headache. Of course, to keep his ex-wife's charade going he'd had to show his concern and leave immediately, though he knew she had used the headache as an excuse to slip away.

He heard her moving around upstairs and from the sounds of things she was packing. Now that she knew he was here, she wasn't wasting any time hightailing it back to wherever she'd been hiding the last few months. She was good at disappearing when she didn't want to be found.

Moving toward the stairs, he decided to wish her well before returning to the polo fields, hoping to catch the last match if he was lucky. His footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor as he walked toward the master suite. Her scent met him the moment he stepped onto the landing. It was an alluring fragrance that he knew all too well, and it was so much a part of her that he couldn't imagine her wearing any other perfume.

Jamming his hands into his pockets, he continued his stroll. This would be the first time he'd be here without her. He shook off the dreary feeling that realization had brought on. He was a big boy and could handle it. Besides, Carmen had done enough damage to mess up his life. He doubted he would ever forgive her for breaking his heart, for making him believe there was such a thing as true love and then showing him there really wasn't.

He'd stopped trying to figure out at what point they'd begun drifting apart. He would be the first to admit he'd spent a lot of hours working, but all those hours he'd spent
away from her were meant to build a nice nest egg so they wouldn't have to work forever.

And although she was paid well for her movies, as her husband, he'd still felt it was his duty to make sure she got anything and everything she wanted in life. They had talked about having a family, but she hadn't understood that knowing he could provide for her and any child they had was important to him.

Her parents had had money and unlike him, she hadn't grown up poor. More than anything, he'd wanted to keep her in the lifestyle she'd been accustomed to. What in the world could be so terribly wrong about wanting to do that? To this day he just couldn't figure it out, and the more he thought about it, the angrier he got.

He had built his world around her. She had been the only thing that truly mattered and everything he'd done had been for her. But she hadn't appreciated that. So now, because of a decision she'd made without him, he was a man whose life was still in turmoil, although he fought like hell to keep that a secret. And he placed the blame for his shattered life at her feet.

He reached the bedroom's double doors and without bothering to knock, he pushed opened the door.

And stopped dead in his tracks.

C
armen swung around at the sound of the bedroom door opening and tightened her bathrobe around her. She threw her head back, sending hair cascading around her shoulders. “What are you doing in here, Matthew?”

For a moment he simply stood there staring at her, no doubt taking in the fact that she had just taken a shower and was probably stark naked beneath her short robe.

When he didn't answer, she said in a sharp tone, “Matthew, I asked you a question.”

His attention shifted from her body and slid up to her face. “What do you think you're doing, Carmen?”

His voice sounded strained and his breathing shallow. “What does it look like I'm doing? I just finished taking a shower and now I'm putting on clothes. You should have knocked.”

Carmen watched as something flickered in the depths of his dark eyes and a muscle clenched in his jaw. He took his
hands out of his pockets, causing the material of his pants to stretch across the huge bulge at his center. It was quite obvious he'd gotten aroused from seeing her half-naked. She inwardly smiled. He'd taken the bait just the way she'd planned.

“I own this place. I don't have to knock, Carmen. And why are you still here? Why aren't you gone or at least packing?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and followed the movement of his eyes from her face to her breasts. She was very much aware that her curves were outlined through the silky material of her robe. It seemed he was very much aware of it, as well.

“I decided that I won't be leaving.”

He pulled his gaze away from her chest. “Excuse me?”

“I said I won't be leaving. I'd assumed you would be in L.A. all summer, which is why I made plans to spend my vacation here. I don't intend to change that just because you've shown up.”

A muscle clenched in his jaw again, making it obvious her statement hadn't gone over well with him. She wasn't surprised when he said, with an icy gaze, “You should have checked my plans for the summer. If you had, I would have told you this place was off-limits. I regret that you didn't. I also regret that you have to leave.”

She inched her chin a little higher and declared, “I'm not going anywhere, Matthew. I deserve some peace and quiet. I've worked hard this year.”

“And you don't think that I have?”

The sharpness of his tone had her gearing up for a fight. But she had to be careful what she said or he would toss her out and halt her plan. “I know you work hard, Matthew.
In fact, you carry working hard to the extreme,” she said bluntly.

His gaze narrowed and she wondered if perhaps she'd pushed him too far. But she couldn't help saying how she felt. The amount of time he'd spent away from her would always be a wound that wouldn't heal.

He began moving toward her in that slow, precise walk that could make women drool. She wished she didn't notice his sex appeal or just how potently masculine he was. She had to get a grip. Her objective was to make him regret ever taking her for granted, to give him a taste of his own medicine, so to speak. She intended to turn her back on him like he'd done to her.

Carmen swallowed when he came to a stop in front of her but she refused to back up—or down.

“You,” he said with deep emphasis, “are not staying here. I think things were pretty clear in the divorce settlement. You wanted to end our marriage and so you did. Under no circumstances will we stay under the same roof.”

Carmen saw the hardness in his features. This face that once looked at her with so much love was staring at her with a degree of animosity that tore at her heart.

“Then nothing is different, Matthew, since we seldom stayed under the same roof anyway. I'm not leaving. I was almost mobbed by the paparazzi getting here and they are probably hanging around like vultures waiting for me to leave. Your recent love life has caused quite a stir and they are trying to bait me into giving my opinion.”

“The media isn't giving me any more slack than they're giving you. And your affair with Bruno Casey isn't helping matters, either. I'm sure if you return to California, he'll be able to put you up for the summer in that place he owns off the bay.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him nothing was
going on with Bruno, but she decided it was none of his business, especially in light of his ongoing affair with Candy. She refused to bring the other woman up since the last thing she wanted was for him to think that she cared. Which she didn't.

“Bruno is shooting in Rome and this is where I want to be. I love it here. I've always loved it here and the only reason you didn't agree to let me have this place during the divorce was because you knew how much I wanted it. For spite, you were intentionally difficult.”

“Think whatever you like. I'm leaving to catch the last of the polo matches. I want you gone when I return.”

“I'm not leaving, Matthew.”

His expression turned from stony to inexplicably weary. “I'm not going to waste my time arguing with you, Carmen.”

“Then don't.”

They stood there staring at each other, anger bouncing off both of them. Then, without saying another word, Matthew turned and walked out. Carmen held her breath until she heard the front door slam shut behind him.

 

Matthew decided not to return to the Seven Oaks Farm for the match. Instead, he went for a drive to clear his head and cool his anger. Carmen was being difficult—she hadn't behaved that way since the early days of their courtship.

He had pursued her with a single-minded determination he hadn't known he was capable of, and she had put up a brick wall, refusing to let him get close. But he'd known the first moment he'd laid eyes on her that he not only wanted her to star in his movie but he wanted her in his bed and wouldn't be satisfied until he got both.

She'd gotten the part in the movie, earning it fair and square. Getting her into his bed had proven to be difficult
and before he got her there, he'd realized he had fallen in love with her. He wasn't certain how it had happened, but it had. He'd loved her so deeply, he knew he wasn't capable of ever loving another woman that way.

She'd stood before him in that church and promised to love him forever. So what if he worked long hours—didn't “till death do us part” mean anything to her? And if he hadn't worked so hard, he would not have earned the reputation of being one of the country's up-and-coming film producers.

A throbbing warmth flowed through his chest, which was immediately followed by a rush of anger that was trying to consume him. He had wanted so much for them and she had done something so unforgivable it hurt him to think about it. He had been absolutely certain she was the one person who understood his drive to build something of his own, the one person who would never let him down. His father had let him down by not marrying his mother when she'd gotten pregnant, and then his mother had let him down when she married Charles Murray, the stepfather from hell. Carmen had restored his faith that there was someone out there who wouldn't disappoint him. So much for that.

Matthew parked the car on the side of the road and just sat there, gazing at the beach. Walking into the bedroom and seeing her barely clothed had been too much. For a moment, lust had overshadowed his common sense and he could only think of how her breasts felt in his hands, how they tasted in his mouth.

With the sunlight streaming through the window, her nearly transparent robe had revealed the darkened triangle between her legs. It had taken all his strength not to cross the room, toss her on the bed and bury himself deep
inside her body the way he used to after they'd argued and made up.

And they'd had to make up a lot since the amount of time he'd spent away from home had always been a bone of contention between them. But they'd always worked through it. What he'd tried so hard to figure out was, what had made the last time different? Why had she felt like throwing in the towel? She'd known his profession when she married him. As an actress, she of all people should have understood how things were on a set. Her filing for divorce had confused the hell out of him.

He remembered the night he hadn't shown up in Spain as planned. It had been a week from hell on the set. Wayne Reddick, the main investor for the movie he'd been producing at the time, had unexpectedly shown up on location. He and Wayne had butted heads several times and the man's impromptu visit had prompted him to cancel his plans to meet Carmen in Barcelona. The fate of his production, which had been behind schedule, was at stake and it had taken some serious talking for the man to agree to extend funds for the movie's completion. He had tried calling Carmen to explain things, but she hadn't answered the phone. The next thing he knew he was receiving divorce papers.

He tightened his hand on the steering wheel thinking that maybe he was handling the situation with his ex-wife all wrong. Since she was hell-bent on staying in the Hamptons, maybe he should just let her. It would give him the chance to extract some kind of revenge for the hell she'd put him through.

He glanced at his watch. A smile touched his lips when he pulled back onto the road and headed home, determined to return before she left. He needed to convince her that
it was fine with him if she stayed, without making her suspicious of his motives.

He'd been an actor before becoming a director and producer. He would seduce her back into his bed and then make her leave. And he would go so far as to change the locks on the doors if he had to.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea and knew just how he could pull it off. When it came to seduction, he was at the top of his game.