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  As she stared up at him, she found herself resenting his smug smile, remembering there was nothing whatsoever between them except this incredible sexual rapport. Incredible yes, but what did it really mean to him? Wasn’t she merely a means, a way of him getting laid? Yes, she thought, especially when his girlfriend was coming tomorrow.

  Oh god, she’d forgotten all about the girlfriend. No, worse—the fiancée.

  Suddenly, she was inexplicably livid. She pulled up her top to cover her breasts and shifted away from him, grasping the giant urn of the fountain for balance. She gulped some air as she reached around and zipped her top up as high as she could manage.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked innocently. “I thought you were enjoying yourself.”

  She ignored his reference to her orgasm and stared at him with a stony glare. “What’s wrong? Your girlfriend will be here in less than twelve hours,” she muttered under her breath as she straightened the folds of skirt of her dress. “But I suppose you’re such a powerful man, you can manage to make love to two women at the same time? Tell me. When’s my shift over?”

  He slapped his thigh and shook his head. “It’s not like that, Nicky. Really, it’s not.”

  “Really?” she repeated sarcastically, folding her arms in front of her defensively.

  “Please, Nicky, let me explain,” he replied, pushing a hand through his hair in exasperation.

  She glared at him for a full minute before turning away. She could feel herself trembling from a mixture of post-orgasm weakness and blind, raging fury. Looking around her, she finally found what she needed. With all the dignity she could muster, she made her way over to a small wooden bench and collapsed onto it. Ignoring him, she eased off her shoes, allowing her bare feet to sink into the plush, cool grass. “You’re lucky, Anderson. I’ll listen to you, but only because I don’t have the energy to leave you hanging. Not to mention the fact that these gardens are a maze and I’m not in the mood to get lost.”

  She surprised herself at how she could make light of the situation despite the way she was feeling.

  A hint of a smile fluttered around his lips and then disappeared into the shadows as he averted his face in embarrassment. He was embarrassed now, she was sure of it. And so he should be. It felt good to have the upper hand for a while. She took another deep breath to collect herself and waited.

  She sat while he paced back and forth in front of the fountain, one hand propped on his hip, the other hand rubbing his chin. Take as long as you need, Matthew Anderson. How are you going to get out of this one?

  She thought of all those diplomas lining the walls of his office. With so much brainpower at his disposal, he should be able to come up with something fairly brilliant. And she could hardly wait to hear what it was.

  Chapter Ten

  Matt searched the darkness of the surrounding gardens, looking for something to say. All evening he’d been having an internal dialogue with himself, debating what his next step should be. He’d never intended to let himself get so carried away tonight. He’d been hesitant to let things go any further with her, considering there was so much still hidden between them.

  There had even been moments in the restaurant when he’d thought about confessing everything. He had mentally played out how he would tell her that there really was no one lined up for the altar—that he had been entertaining the possibility she might be his savior. But then he’d realized that he couldn’t—at least not yet.

  For one thing, Nicky herself hadn’t come clean. He’d hoped that during the course of the evening she would have a confession of her own. For all he knew, she may still only be interested in one thing—getting her job done. And then there was the danger of how it could be perceived that he was using her. The last thing he wanted Nicky to think was that she was seen merely as a means for him to keep the company. She would certainly walk out on him then. And he didn’t want that.

  “You see, Nicky,” he began uncertainly. “It’s all got to do with my father.” He glanced in her direction just in time to see her eyes widen. He knew, of course, that she knew what he was about to say. He only hoped that hearing it from his perspective would help his position.

  “Well, when my father was around, I’m afraid I was a bit of a playboy.” He nodded in response to her glaring eyes. “Yes, I admit it. I was a guy in demand, though I’m now fairly certain it wasn’t me that was popular. It was my background, all of this,” he said, his eyes circling the grounds around them. He paused, seeing what he thought was an opening in her otherwise cool green eyes.

  “Go on,” she said, as if she were the district attorney perched on that bench, and he the lowly defendant.

  “Of course, my father wanted me to settle down and be responsible, so he put a clause in his will that would more or less force me to do just that.” He stopped pacing to check Nicky’s expression. He could see she was hanging onto his every syllable. “I have to marry by my thirty-third birthday, which is less than a month away, or I lose my position as head of the company.”

  He watched her straighten her spine. “I see.” She paused. “So? What’s your plan?”

  Matt walked around the fountain, knowing full well he would be going in circles if he lied again about having someone lined up for the altar. But that was the lie that had kept Nicky, the investigator, here. And in truth, he didn’t care why Nicky hung around Lindenfield, he just wanted the warm pleasant feeling of having her near him. If only she would just say that she had been sent here to spy on him, but that in the course of studying her subject, had fallen madly… If only…

  His footsteps slowed when he came near the bench where she was sitting, impatiently tapping her bare foot on the ground. “What are you going to do, Matt?”

  “Do?” he repeated, watching her closely. Come on, Nicky, say something.

  She remained silent.

  “What I plan to do is marry, as I said before,” he blurted out. He thought he detected a wince tremble along the lines of her mouth, but still she said nothing. “But not in the traditional sense. We’ll both be signing a contract promising to annul the marriage afterwards. So it really isn’t a marriage at all, just a kind of agreement in order to get past this hurdle,” he added hurriedly. “Of course, my mother will think it’s real—and everyone else hopefully.”

  “She’s not your girlfriend, but you’re going to marry her anyway,” she repeated deliberately.

  “You see, Nicky, my parents’ marriage was nearly as cold as mine will be, except that they remained together until my father died. Which is too bad, in a way. Even as a child, I always sensed there was something distant about their relationship, something lacking. But it wasn’t until my mother met her new husband that I realized what it was.”

  He noticed her brow was still furrowed, but, at the same time, a corner of her mouth was turning up ever so slightly. “And what was that?”

  “Love, of course.” He tilted his head, waited for her reaction.

  She looked up at him with unblinking eyes and shook her head. “But, I don’t understand. I mean, if you know that element was missing from your parents’ marriage, wouldn’t you want to include it in your own? Not that I believe in any of that happily-ever-after stuff, by the way,” she quickly added.

  “Oh?” He shot her an inquisitive, unflinching stare. So she was more rational than he’d originally thought. Well, he’d never have guessed, not with all that barely contained passion simmering beneath her calm exterior. “So, in other words, you don’t believe in love?” he fished.

  She shrugged. “I believe in what my boss calls compatibility. Oh sure, you can call it love if you want to. But I don’t buy all that idealistic stuff the media is always feeding us about happy endings.”

  Matt leaned back against the cold, hard fountain and eyed her curiously. “May I remind you, Nicky Evans, that you’re talking about yourself?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You are the media. Do you or do you not work for a magazine
as a photographer? And isn’t it some romantic type of home journal that features castle-like mansions?” He was glad he had managed to steer the conversation away from him for a while. Her shifting gaze told him that he had where he wanted her.

  “Well, yes. But that’s hardly the same thing. Actually, I plan to get out of my present job soon and move into journalism.”

  “Really? Well, you never know. I might be able to help you out in that department,” he said, taking a step towards her. He noticed she didn’t back away, so he took another. And another, until he was close enough to take her hand and bring her back to her feet. To his surprise, she let him, without so much as a frown.

  “There’s something else I don’t understand about all of this,” she said, her voice measurably softer.

  He stood looking into her eyes that were bright with reflected moonlight. “What’s that?”

  “If she’s not your fiancée in the traditional sense, then why has she left so many of her clothes in your guestroom closet?” She looked down at the dress she was wearing and then tilted her gaze back up to his eyes. “I mean, she must be visiting you quite often to have left such a big wardrobe behind.”

  Matt felt a wave of delight sweep him into a walloping fit of laughter. “Didn’t Frank tell you? Those clothes belong to my sister!”

  “But…but, you don’t have a sister,” she protested, pulling her hand away from his.

  “Why do you have that impression? We’ve never even discussed siblings.”

  She pursed her lips. “I—I know, but… Why aren’t there any pictures of her in the baby room, then?”

  “Well, I can see you’ll make a fine investigative journalist. Although, I’m not quite sure why you were investigating me today instead of finishing your article on Lindenfield.” He watched her avert her gaze. “I take it you only saw my baby room. Kate has one of her own, of course.”

  “Oh,” was all she said as he took her hand again in his. He thought her fingers felt cold as he squeezed them between his palms, then rubbed, warming them to match his own temperature. She looked up at him weakly, as if she had no more will to fight. Neither did she offer any protest as he turned and silently led her back through the garden toward the lights of Lindenfield proper.

  * * * * *

  Nicky allowed Matt to guide her through the labyrinth of shrubs, trees, and flowerbeds toward the house. She felt stunned, like she’d just been thrown into a pool of icy water. She hadn’t been prepared for Matt’s cold, calculated decision to marry a friend, only to divorce her later. Of course, he would probably make it worth the girl’s while monetarily. But could any amount of money make a speedy marriage and an even speedier divorce the right thing to do?

  But there was something else bothering her, something that didn’t add up. What about the love letter she’d found in his room earlier today, and the teddy? Surely a woman who was just posing as a girlfriend wouldn’t go that far, unless… Unless it was a case of unrequited love, in which case Nicky felt very sorry for the woman. It must be that, she thought, her eyes falling on his tall, sculpted body just a pace ahead of her, his dark hair glistening in the half-light of the garden.

  Her heart lurched as he tightened his grip on her hand, bringing back memories of the way he had touched her earlier. The feel of him so close to her made it impossible to think straight, and he’d given her a lot to think about tonight. What was she going to tell Smith? After the sexual intimacy they had shared, and after Matt had entrusted her with his secret, was she really going to report him to Smith, who would then inform Matt’s mother? She couldn’t imagine doing such a thing. She didn’t want to hurt him, didn’t want him to despise her for betraying him. And what a betrayal that would be.

  She followed him inside through the back door and together they walked quietly down the silent hall to a room smaller than any she’d seen so far at Lindenfield. In it there was some elegant, but comfortable-looking furniture arranged for lounging and conversation. While she made herself familiar with one of the soft sofa chairs, Matt went to get some drinks.

  He returned moments later with two glasses of champagne in one hand and a lit candle in the other. Despite her baffled thoughts, Nicky felt a ripple of anticipation quiver deep in her belly as he handed her one of the glasses. Her mind was full of confusion, but her body seemed perfectly clear about what it wanted. “I just realized something,” she said hesitantly. “You didn’t answer my question back in the garden.”

  He placed the candle on a small table before her and then sat down in the armchair next to her. “And what question was that?” he asked, clinking his glass with hers.

  “Why aren’t you marrying for love, if you really do believe in it?”

  He sipped his champagne thoughtfully. “I would if I had more time. The kind of love I’m looking for takes a lot longer to establish than a month,” he said slowly, his eyes growing darker and more mysterious as he turned to her. “But then again, maybe I’m wrong.” He held her stare, and would not let go. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

  Nicky felt her pulse racing, her breathing growing shallow. Was he talking about her?

  “I—don’t know,” she replied. As much as she wanted him to love and desire her, and as much as she wanted to love him in return, she couldn’t allow herself to. Not when there was another woman waiting in the wings to be his wife, a woman who might very well be in love with him. Not when Smith was waiting to report to his mother every single clandestine detail Matt was sharing with her tonight.

  Which led to another problem, she realized, as she gazed into his eyes. He had no idea whom he was falling in love with. She wasn’t a magazine photographer, neither was she interested in his house or the history behind it. The truth was that she wasn’t working for him, but against him.

  She pulled her gaze away and looked down at the champagne sparkling in her glass, the bubbles bursting one by one. “What are we celebrating, anyway?”

  “A job well done, of course,” he replied, grinning.

  Nicky felt something quake inside her. “What?”

  “Well, you did tell me you were finished. Isn’t that what the brown envelope was—the completion of your assignment?”

  “Yes, I suppose that’s right.” She nibbled her lower lip. Part of her wanted to confess, to tell him everything and then work something out with him—some way of convincing his mother that his marriage was real. But what about later, when Eleanor learned that Hidden Eye had known the marriage was fake all along? With the woman’s money and connections, she could easily bury a little company like Smith’s in no time.

  Nicky rubbed her forehead, wishing she could erase all the conflicting thoughts from her brain. The champagne was only making things worse by cloaking her emotions and increasing her libido, neither of which she needed tonight. “Look, I should really be going to bed. It’s been a wonderful evening, but I’m exhausted, and—”

  She felt his hand on her forearm, silencing her. “I know, Nicky. It has been wonderful, hasn’t it?” he said, releasing her as he got to his feet. “At least allow me to show you to your room.”

  She nodded, and he smiled as he picked up her hand and looped her arm through his.

  As they walked in silence through the hallway to the stairs, she thought of Matt’s female friend walking down the aisle with him a month from now. She wondered how the woman would feel at that moment, and then later, when she walked with him to the divorce lawyer. She thought again about the letter she’d found. Although there was nothing explicit, it definitely had a hint of real affection.

  When they reached her room, she pulled away from him and turned toward the door. But Matt grasped her arm and gently pulled her around to meet his dark, searching eyes.

  “Nicky, I really want to thank you for a most memorable couple of days. I hope you’re not sorry you stayed?”

  “Sorry? N…no, of course not,” she replied, wondering exactly what he meant by that.

  He picked up her hand
and she let him, relishing what promised to be the last physical contact she would have with him. He held her hand so tenderly in his for a long moment, then raised it to his lips. He began kissing the inside of her palm, where her nerve endings were naked, unprotected. Then he kissed her fingers one by one, slowly, thoughtfully, and torturously. She watched his lips descend over each one, felt his hot mouth on her skin, leaving her body tense with the same conflict she’d been feeling all evening. This sweet yearning, this incredible attraction warring against her better judgment.

  As he had done to the woman in the video, he pressed her index finger into his mouth. But watching and really experiencing this feeling were two different things. His tongue slipped around her finger, wetting the entire length of it. Then he sucked and nibbled on the tip as if promising to do the same to her breasts, her nipples.

  Unbidden desire flowed into her veins, flowing downward to meet the heat gathering once more between the folds of her labia. As if sensing her acquiescence, he continued kissing her hand, trailing kisses light as whispers over her wrist and up her arm.

  Her heart trembled as she gazed up at him, and as his arms fell around her, she knew she was powerless to push him away. She couldn’t possibly resist the feel of him, the smell and anticipated taste of him. Everything about his body was becoming so familiar to her, so much so that it seemed they had known each other a long time. “Do you want to come in?” she murmured against the crook of his neck as he drew her against him.

  He didn’t answer but reached behind her and pushed open her door. Grasping her hand, he drew her inside and she willingly followed. Without a word, he led her over to the bed. Facing him, she sank down onto the firm mattress, her gaze taking him in. His long, lithe muscles were outlined by the moonlight shining behind him, streaming through the open window.

  Slowly, he took off his shirt, popping open the buttons one by one, unveiling his taut chest and sleekly toned abs. Next he reached for his belt. He unbuckled it slowly, drawing attention to the bulge of his erection just beneath where his hands worked.