scalp and pressed her lips, chastely closed, to his mouth.
She was breathing fast and hard when she lifted her mouth from his. Grey eyes clashed with blue.
‘I want…’ Emotion clogged her throat.
‘A bit of rough?’ The suggestion was as hard as the calculating expression in his eyes.
For a second she couldn’t believe what she’d heard. Being plunged into ice was remarkably sobering. She bit down on her lower lip to stop the hurt cry escaping the confines of her throat. She drew her knees protectively up to her chest and rolled over onto her side. Though her knees were shaking, she managed to get to her feet gracefully.
If she’d looked back he’d have been able to see the tears streaming unchecked down her cheeks, so she didn’t look back.
‘She’s invited who?’
Beth Lacey didn’t appear to notice her daughter’s horrified expression.
‘Alex Matheson, dear, to make up the numbers. Mind you, he and Adam get on quite well, I believe. They play tennis together, you know.’
‘I didn’t know,’ Hope replied faintly.
‘I did mention to Anna that you and he got on really well at the wedding. Shall I do a lemon tart, or be really naughty and risk the chocolate meringue?’ She waited expectantly and gave an impatient sigh when her daughter regarded her blankly. ‘I told you, we’re bringing the pudding. Anna’s got enough on her hands without entertaining, but you know Anna, once she’s made up her mind. At least she’s limiting it to family—and Alex, of course.’
And Alex!
Hope nodded. She knew Anna. She knew Anna well enough to know she couldn’t ask her to retract the invitation to Alex without having the whole humiliating tale exposed. Hope wasn’t ready for that; she was still feeling far too raw about the whole painful incident. There was only one thing for it.
‘Sorry, Mum, I’ve got to go out,’ she said, levering her tall frame from the saggy armchair.
‘Where to?’
Hand on the doorhandle, Hope smiled vaguely. ‘I won’t be long. I’ll borrow your car.’
It took her less time than it ought to reach Matheson Motors on the edge of the small market town. She parked her mother’s old banger amongst less rusty cars and walked confidently up to the entrance. No one watching her long-legged elegant stride could have guessed how close to open panic she was. Only her sisters knew that she only whistled when she was petrified, and they weren’t here.
The girl in Reception looked up and visibly did a double take. ‘Miss Lacey,’ she gasped, her eyes widening. ‘Can I help you?’ she added hopefully, regaining some of her professional poise.
‘I’d like to see Alex.’ A famous face did have some compensations, especially when you wanted to bluff your way into somewhere you had no right to be.
‘Mr Matheson…’ Doubt crossed the other girl’s face. ‘Do you have an appointment?’
‘It’s a surprise.’
‘Well, I don’t think… He’s quite strict about…’
‘Actually,’ Hope said, leaning forward in a confidential manner, ‘I’m meant to be having dinner with him tonight, but I’m going to have to cry off. So I thought I’d take him for an early lunch to compensate.’
‘For his birthday? I see. Oh, well, in that case…’
Alex’s PA turned out to be male, quite a young, attractive male, who wasn’t totally immune to her charms. She’d have liked to think it was her famous smile and winning manner that had allowed her to enter the inner sanctum which he so jealously guarded, but it was obvious she’d only got this far because Alex had given his permission.
Panic closed in as the door shut behind her. Pride made it imperative that she didn’t show her uncertainty.
She needn’t have worried; for all the interest Alex showed in her she might as well have been standing there stark naked. She couldn’t have felt more vulnerable if she had been!
He continued to peel off a set of navy overalls, underneath which he wore a pristine white shirt and silk tie. He lifted the dark grey jacket missing from his ensemble from the back of his chair and slipped it on. The shadow of body hair was visible through the thin fabric of his shirt, as was the suggestion of musculature. Hope’s throat grew painfully dry as she tried not to notice these facts.
‘You’ve got a hands-on management style, I see,’ she said, her eyes flicking to the discarded utilitarian overalls.
‘I’m a hands-on sort of guy.’
The innuendo made the colour flare in her cheeks. ‘I expect you know why I’m here.’
‘I’m not nearly so perceptive as you appear to think.’
‘The dinner party.’ She didn’t want to play games with him. She wasn’t capable of playing games with him. Just being in the same room as him was making her aware of how deeply he’d managed to unnerve her.
‘Ah, the dinner party.’ He lowered himself into the deeply padded leather swivel chair behind the massive desk which dominated the room. No, she mentally corrected herself, it was Alex who dominated the room—this room and any other room he was in.
‘Don’t go.’
‘Pardon? I’m forgetting my manners—won’t you have a seat?’
‘You can’t forget what you’ve never had,’ she snapped back. ‘And I’m not staying long enough to sit down. Don’t think I enjoy being in your company.’
‘If that is so, why are you here?’ he enquired imperturbably. He watched her with a narrow-eyed silver stare that made her shiver.
‘I just wanted to ask you to be reasonable. I’m sure you don’t want to spend an evening in my company any more than I want to spend an evening in yours.’
‘If you didn’t want to see me, why come here?’
‘I’ve already told you—’
‘Ever heard of the telephone?’ he interrupted cryptically.
Hope’s mouth opened and closed several times before her voice returned. ‘I didn’t think of that.’
‘Of course you didn’t…’ he drawled.
The hateful knowing look in his eyes made her want to scream. ‘If you think I used this as a pretext to see you,’ she returned scornfully, ‘you couldn’t be more wrong!’
‘Now there’s an interesting idea,’ he mused, resting his chin on his steepled fingers.
She couldn’t look at his hands without imagining… Hope took a deep, steadying breath. I will not lose my temper, she repeated slowly to herself. I won’t! ‘Are you going to come?’ She sounded calm and reasonable.
‘I could hardly refuse after they’ve asked me to be godfather to little Joe.’
‘They haven’t.’ She closed her eyes and pushed back the wing of hair that flopped in her eyes. ‘They’ve asked me to be his godmother.’
‘Isn’t that nice?’ His teeth were as white and even as your average wolf’s.
‘You’re enjoying this!’ she accused.
For the first time he looked less than indolent as his body stiffened in the chair. ‘Far from it,’ he snapped. ‘But I’m not going to offend friends just because they have the misfortune to be related to a shallow little trollop like you! Sorry,’ he corrected, looking her up and down slowly, ‘cancel the “little”…’
‘I’m wasting my time here.’ She turned on her heel and strode from the office.