Page 51 of 7 Days and 7 Nights

She ignored his dig and continued rhapsodizing. “But she has heart. You can tell she really wants to help people and change lives for the better.”

“Like you.”

She looked surprised at the compliment as if he could have been observing her all this time and not been aware that she was genuinely motivated to help.

“Well... yes.”

“I’m sure there’re openings in Oprah’s fan club. Maybe you should consider joining.”

“Be serious.”

“No, I won’t. You’re serious enough for the both of us. Besides, it’s your birthday. You’re required to have fun.”

Matt pulled the asparagus out of the refrigerator and began rinsing them. “If you could do anything you chose today, what would it be?”

He saw her gaze stray to the front door.

“Other than leave.”

“Well, that certainly narrows the possibilities.”

He leered at her waggling his eyebrows for good measure. “There are lots of things we could do here.”

“Right. And how many of them don’t involve taking our clothes off?”

“Oh. Well. If you’re going to be picky.”

Olivia speared him with a look and then turned her attention back to Oprah. Watching her, Matt was pleased to see evidence of the success of his relaxation campaign. Where before she would have been sitting upright, her back barely touching the back of the sofa, she now lounged on the couch with the remote in her hand. Though she didn’t yet use it enough to satisfy him, she was clicking around way more than she had been. And that wasn’t the only change he’d initiated. He’d influenced her dress code, too. At the beginning of the week, she’d been painfully starched and perfectly turned out. Today, her blonde hair was slicked back into a ponytail, and the feet that poked out under the faded jeans were bare—except for the shocking-pink toenails. Her T-shirt proclaimed, “Liv Lives Live on WTLK,” and fit tight enough to outline her shapely breasts very nicely.

Matt ran his eyes along the luscious curves, remembering the heft and feel of them in his hands until his body began to react to the images.

He worked in silence for a while, listening as Oprah talked to Prince Harry about his relationship with his brother. As he listened, he caught himself thinking about his own family and the bond between brothers.

His connection with his twin, Adam, had been so strong that the severing of it had crippled him for years. Even now the hollow spot deep at his center remained, and he expended considerable energy protecting the vulnerable core.

Only Olivia refused to leave his memories and guilt undisturbed, and the more she prodded and pushed, the greater the possibility that she’d discover the emptiness yawning inside him—something he’d never allowed another soul to see.

He was beginning to question whether he could tempt Olivia, put her off-kilter, and take advantage of her confusion, without damaging himself. This softening he felt toward her worried him, and so did his audience’s potential reaction; Olivia’s wasn’t the only image the consultant would put under a microscope.

Matt peeled potatoes and put them on to boil. A few minutes later, Olivia clicked off the television and wandered into the kitchen, ambling toward him at a leisurely pace he’d never seen her use before.

Matt smiled to himself. Given a few more days, he’d have her sleeping until noon and wandering around the apartment in her jammies—preferably the sheep ones that covered everything and drove him right toward the edge of sanity.

She took a seat on a barstool directly across from him. Without asking, he opened a bottle of the Veuve Cliquot he’d had delivered and poured them each a glass.

“Happy birthday, Olivia. I hope the next thirty are even better than the first.”

She snorted inelegantly but lifted her glass of champagne to clink against his. “To my advanced age. May it make me wiser in all things.” She looked him in the eye. “May I learn from my mistakes... and know better than to repeat them.”

“I think I’ll just stick to ‘Happy Birthday.’ ” Matt raised the glass to his lips and took a long sip. Olivia did the same. “Do you have any plans for the rest of the afternoon?”

Her glass halted midway to her lips. “I’m considering something really different—like hanging around and killing time.”

“Why not take a nap? You’re going to need your strength to consume the meal I’m putting together.”

“A nap?”

“Um-hmm. With a nice long soak in the tub afterward.”

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