similar again.’
‘Good for you.’ Joanna smiled at her. ‘I know I’d miss working at the gallery.’
‘Well, there are lots of art galleries in New York,’ exclaimed Sophie at once. ‘Now that you have no ties holding you to London, you could work for one of the galleries there. Don’t you agree, Matt?’
Matt didn’t answer. Nevertheless, his silence was annoyingly compliant, and Adrienne had heard enough. ‘I think not,’ she said, giving her daughter an impatient look. ‘Joanna isn’t staying in Miami, Sophie. She’s here to speak to Matt about a—a—’ She hesitated uncertainly, obviously aware of Matt’s narrow-eyed disapproval. ‘Um—about a personal matter,’ she finished awkwardly. ‘She’ll be going back to London tomorrow. Isn’t that right, Joanna?’
Before Joanna had a chance to answer, Sophie’s face clouded with disappointment. She’d clearly understood what her mother was trying to say. Her jaw dropped as she turned to her brother. ‘That’s why Joanna booked a room at the Corcovado, isn’t it?’ she demanded fiercely. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve asked her for a divorce?’
‘I HAVE NOT asked Joanna for a divorce,’ Matt responded harshly. ‘Not that it’s any business of yours, Sophie. Joanna’s reasons for being here are not your concern.’
Joanna looked sympathetically at the other girl. ‘It’s me who wants the divorce,’ Joanna said now, ignoring the others. ‘It’s hardly a secret,’ she added, giving Matt a defiant look. ‘But thanks for the support.’
‘Nevertheless, it is not something to be gossiped about within the hearing of servants,’ retorted Adrienne coldly, but now that Sophie had broken the ice, Joanna could stay silent no longer.
‘I suggest it’s not up to you to decide,’ she declared curtly, addressing her mother-in-law. ‘Or has reading my husband’s emails persuaded you that you should have the final word?’
‘If I had you would not be here!’ retorted Adrienne at once, but when she looked to her son again, maybe in the hope of his endorsement, it seemed Matt had had enough.
Ignoring all of them, he got up from the table to pour himself another soda, and Joanna couldn’t decide whether he was being deliberately rude or simply indifferent.
‘Well, I won’t intrude on your family any longer,’ she declared stiffly, addressing herself to Adrienne as Matt didn’t return to the table. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.’
She’d barely eaten a thing, but she felt sick anyway. A green salad, rich with herbs and sprinkled with parmesan, had been followed by a seafood ravioli that should have melted in her mouth. But all Joanna had been able to think about was how soon this agony would be over. She’d already decided to hand any further negotiations over to the London solicitors, and go back to London on the first available plane.
She left the room without another word, aware that both women were expecting Matt to stop her. But he didn’t, although she was sure his eyes followed her progress. With a feeling of relief, she hurried across the foyer and ran up the stairs.
By the time she reached the suite, Joanna’s legs were shaky. Her mobile phone was in her bag and she intended to call a taxi to take her back to the hotel immediately. Matt could deal with the fallout, if there was any. He was very good at that.
Someone had been in the room in her absence. The bed had been turned down, and she wondered who had thought she might be staying the night. Matt, perhaps, she decided tightly. He was very good at ignoring her feelings, too.
After glancing a little tensely around the room, she headed for the bathroom. Despite refusing the dessert, she still felt decidedly unwell. Too many glasses of wine, she thought, peering at her face in the mirror. She only hoped she could get back to the hotel without throwing up.
She was leaning on the hand basin, with her eyes closed, when someone spoke.
‘Are you all right?’
Her eyes shot open in alarm. Matt was leaning against the open door of the bathroom, a look of mild concern on his lean dark face. A face she’d once loved, she thought, hating herself for the memory. Had that face betrayed her and her father without a second thought?
Matt had shed his jacket and tie and now the cuffs of his shirt were turned back over lean brown forearms lightly spread with dark hair. Despite her anger at him, she felt her stomach quiver at the unwelcome acknowledgement of his magnetism. Whatever she did, however she felt, she couldn’t deny her unwilling response to his sexual appeal.
But this wouldn’t do. Schooling her features, she said, ‘What are you doing here? I don’t recall inviting you in.’
Matt shrugged his broad shoulders, muscles moving sinuously beneath the fine silk of his dark shirt. ‘You didn’t,’ he agreed, and then was forced to step aside as she brushed past him to get into the bedroom. ‘Still better in health than temper, I see.’
Joanna pursed her lips. ‘Don’t make fun of me.’
‘Believe it or not, I was concerned about you.’ Matt tucked his hands beneath his arms to quell the urge he had to reach out to her. He surveyed her closely. ‘Are you sure you’re all right? You looked very pale when you left the dining room.’
‘I didn’t think you’d noticed.’
‘I noticed.’
Joanna knew a feeling of defeat. She was never going to win where Matt was concerned. All the same, if she’d suspected he might follow her, she’d have wedged the back of a chair under the handle of the door rather than face another argument.
‘Why don’t you leave me alone?’ she asked wearily, refusing to give in to the tears that were threatening to complete her humiliation. ‘I’ve ordered a taxi.’
Matt blew out a breath. ‘You haven’t had time,’ he stated flatly. He paused. ‘You insist on going back to the hotel, then?’
‘Of course. I’m not welcome here.’
‘I want you to stay.’
‘Yes, I know what you want. But this is your mother’s house and I don’t intend to stay here any longer than it takes for a taxi to come and pick me up.’
‘It’s my father’s house, but we won’t quibble about ownership.’ He paused. ‘Please. Cancel the room at the hotel and stay. We need to talk.’
‘We have talked, Matt.’
‘Not enough.’ His brows drew together. ‘Are you afraid of me, Jo?’
Joanna’s lips parted. ‘No,’ she said defiantly, although she was. Afraid of her own vulnerability where he was concerned at least.
‘Yet you insist on running out on me. Again.’
Joanna caught her breath. ‘All right,’ she said, knowing she’d regret the words as soon as they were spoken. ‘We’ll talk tomorrow. Come to the hotel in the morning, and we’ll have breakfast together. Okay?’
* * *
Half an hour later, Joanna stared out of the window of the sleek Mercedes saloon Matt was driving, amazed at how quiet the streets were at this hour of the evening. But she could hear music thumping from a boom box somewhere and the unmistakeable sound of laughter that seemed to be coming from the roofs of the hotels and apartment buildings they passed.
Not that she was truly interested in the parties being held in high rises and condominiums alike, or the brilliantly illuminated stretches of open parkland on Biscayne Boulevard. It was simply better than acknowledging that once again Matt had got his way.
She should have known he wouldn’t let her get away that easily, and she hadn’t