Page 62 of Taming a Heartbreaker

He smiled, wondering what she would do if she knew he was practically stripping her naked with his eyes while thinking of all the naughty things he wanted to do to her body. “Yes.”

“Working?”

“Basically.”

“Which means I’ll rarely see you.”

Matthew flinched. She knew how to say things that could make him grit his teeth. She made it seem as if he’d never given her any attention while he worked. Well, that was about to change. He was on a mission to seduce her and then kick her out on that hot little behind of hers.

“Maybe you will and maybe you won’t. There will be days when I’ll be working from here.”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, Matthew. Work drives you no matter when and where you’re doing it. That’s all you ever think about.”

He could tell her that wasn’t true since at that very moment, he was thinking about how he wanted to make love to her once he got her back in his bed. “If that’s what you want to believe.”

She laughed shortly. “That’s what I know. Now, if you don’t mind, I intend to go to bed.”

He shot her a confused look. “Bed? Don’t you think it’s kind of early? The sun’s still up,” he pointed out.

She lifted a brow. “And your point?”

My point is that I can’t very well seduce you if you are making yourself scarce. “There’s still time to do things tonight.”

“I agree, which is why, after putting on my pj’s, I plan to sit out on my bedroom balcony with a good book and watch the sun set over the ocean. I might go for a swim in the pool later tonight, but you shouldn’t be concerned that I’ll be underfoot. Like I said, this house is big enough for both of us. See you later.”

She turned and left the kitchen. He watched her go, admiring her body, remembering her touch, more determined than ever to get her in his bed.

Chapter Five

Carmen curled up on the chaise longue on the private balcony off the master suite. If she were going to seduce Matthew, the last thing she needed to do was appear too accessible, too anxious to be in his presence. That was the reason she’d decided to go to her room first rather than straight to the pool.

A cool breeze was coming in off the ocean. She recalled making love with Matthew on this very balcony one night that first year he had brought her to the Hamptons. She had been concerned that their neighbors would see them, but Matthew had assured her that they had total privacy. The house had even been built in a no-fly zone, which kept the overzealous paparazzi from taking to the skies.

She glanced at the book she’d placed on the table, a romance novel she had been trying to get through for the last couple of days. It’s not that it wasn’t a good book—it was—but it was hard to read about someone else’s fantastic love life when hers had gone so badly.

Instead of resuming the book, she decided to close her eyes and conjure up her own love story with her and Matthew in the leading roles. Things between them had been romantic during the early days of their marriage, especially that first year when he hadn’t wanted her out of his sight. They had been in bed more than they had been out. Matthew was something else in the bedroom—he’d been able to reach her on a level that went deeper than any man ever had—and a part of her knew that no other man ever would.

From the moment they’d met, something had passed between them that was instinctive, and primitive. She was surprised she’d been able to read her lines during the audition session. That day, for the first time in her life, she’d discovered how it felt to truly desire a man.

She had gotten the role because Matthew had seen something in her. He thought she was good, and was going places. Although the temptation to become his lover during filming had been great, she had been determined to keep things professional between them.

After they’d wrapped the movie, they had their first date. He had taken her someplace simple—his favorite bar and grill for hamburgers, fries and what he’d claimed was the best milk shake she would ever taste. He’d been right. That night had practically sealed her fate. They’d dated exclusively for six months and then that Christmas, he’d asked her to marry him and she’d said yes.

The media had kept tabs on their budding relationship, referring to them as Hollywood’s Darlings—Matthew, the staunch bachelor who claimed he would never marry, and she, the woman who’d stolen his heart. Their courtship had been as private as they could make it, but that hadn’t stopped the paparazzi from stalking their every move and painting them as the couple whose marriage was most likely to succeed in Hollywood. Boy, had they been wrong.

Nearly five years later and here they were, no different than most other Hollywood couples—divorced and blaming the other for what had gone wrong. She drew in a deep breath, not wanting to think of how she’d felt being replaced by his career. The loneliness and pain had nearly swallowed her whole. Although by that time she’d had success as an actress, as a wife she felt like a total failure—a woman who couldn’t compete against her husband’s workaholic nature, who couldn’t entice him away for a smoldering-hot rendezvous.

More pain settled around her heart as she remembered she’d lost more than her husband’s attention in Barcelona. She’d also lost the child they had made together. Had she gone full-term, their little girl or boy would have been almost four months old by now.

She felt her lip trembling and fought back tears. She wanted to recall the good things about their marriage. She wanted to remember how well they’d gotten along in the beginning, how she would respond to just about anything when it came to him. His soft laugh, his touch, the sound of his breathing...that look he would give her when he wanted to make love.

She had seen that same look in his eyes today in the kitchen. She didn’t know what racy thoughts had been going through his mind, but her body had responded and a rush of sensations had flowed through her. Her hormones had surged to gigantic proportions and it would have been so easy to cross the room, slide onto his lap, curl into his arms and bury her face in the warmth of his chest. Then she would have kissed him the way she used to. Kissing him had the ability to make her all but moan out an orgasm. In fact, a few times she had done that very thing.

She had the satisfaction of knowing he wanted her. Although she was woman enough to admit she’d desired him, too. What she had to do was keep her desires at bay while continuing to stir up his. That was her game plan and she intended to stick to it. She would not get caught in her own trap.

But there was nothing wrong with getting wrapped up in memories while lying stretched out on a chaise longue with the breeze from the ocean caressing her skin. Memories were a lot safer than the real thing. With her eyes still closed, she vividly recalled the night when she and Matthew had come out here, naked and aroused, with only one thing on their minds.

They had gone to a polo match and returned home, barely making it up to their bedroom to strip off their clothes. And then he had swept her off her feet and carried her to the balcony. Even now she could recall how fast her heart had been beating and how her pulse had throbbed. Pretty similar to how she was feeling now, just thinking about it.

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