Page 23 of His Secretary's Nine-Month Notice
‘One night,’ he murmured. ‘And then I’m gone. I don’t want for ever. I don’t even want tomorrow. But tonight... That I do want.’
Violet could hear her heart beating hard like a drum and the blood pounding in her ears.
One night.It was such a tantalising thought.
‘Just tonight,’ she whispered, barely able to meet his eyes.
‘You know I don’t do for ever.’ He paused. ‘I don’t speak that language and I never will. No permanence, no cosy family life, no pitter-patter of tiny feet.’ He had a rare moment of introspection, thinking of his own dysfunctional family life, of his parents, uniting two wealthy families, a complicated union involving assets and holdings. His father’s grand country estate had needed his mother’s lavish wealth. He had brought class to the table and she had brought hard cash. A perfect union on paper, but in practice, as he had grown from boy to man, what he had seen was the reality of a loveless marriage, and how a loveless marriage made for an unloved child.
‘He’ll never take over the estate,’ his father had once said. Standing outside the formal living room, the fourteen-year-old Matt had paused and listened, every muscle in his body tensing at the dismissive tone of his father’s voice. He had heard the clinking of glasses as they had drunk the sherry they always drank at exactly the same time very evening, brought to them by the butler.
‘The boy doesn’t want to have anything to do with the land. Might just as well not have had the little blighter for all the good he will do when it comes to perpetuating this legacy. Bloody disappointment.’
He’d wondered then whether his cold, silent parents would have stayed together had they never had him. Would they have gone their separate ways and searched for more than life had dished out for them? He hadn’t stayed to hear his mother’s response but something inside, already toughened over the years, had crystallised into ice.
If his parents were what marriage was all about, then he would always be better off without it. Sure, he knew that there were families out there who interacted and looked out for one another, but he’d never had that. Not only had he come to the conclusion that that sort of emotion was beyond his remit, but it was something he had no intention of seeking out. He’d stopped looking for parental approval, even though the search had pretty much ended long before then, and had devoted his life to doing what he loved and what he was good at. The land and the estate could go to any one of his useless cousins. He didn’t give a damn.
Hell, where hadthatcome from? Frowning, he slammed the door shut on memories he had little time for. He’d moved on from there.
‘Sex, Violet,’ he said roughly. ‘One night. I want to make your body sing.’
She wasn’t aware of nodding. This wasn’t romance. What it was, was irresistible.Fantasy could become reality, a few hours of stolen bliss. How could she refuse? The prospect of playing with fire had never felt so good. She was barely aware of finishing her drink and making her way back with him to the house. She was a different person and everything around her was different. Somehow altered.
Everything changed when they were standing outside her front door. Outside, night was a black velvet throw covering the world, capturing them in a bubble of heightened intimacy.
The trip back to the house had been a silent one, charged with anticipation. They had held hands in the taxi and Violet had felt sick with excitement. Now there was a thrilling urgency as he nudged open the front door with his foot and, before they could step inside the house and into a bedroom, he swept her into his arms and kissed her. A long, hungry, demanding crush of mouth on mouth.
She reached up and curved her hands around his neck. He was forbidden territory... She shouldn’t be doing this, but then hard on the heels of that thought came another—she no longer worked for him—and, just like that, freed from the captivity of being his employee, and suffused with release from the tension that had gripped her ever since her father had been rushed to hospital, she freely gave herself to the thrill of the unknown.
He swept her up in his arms and began searching for a bedroom, heading up the stairs and pausing only to peer briefly into the rooms he walked past until he landed on hers.
He didn’t bother switching on any lights, but the curtains were pulled back and the moon was sending slivers of silver into the bedroom.
‘I can’t believe we’re doing this,’ Violet thought out loud. She looked around at the familiarity of the room she had made her own since moving to Melbourne. She had brought over her most treasured score sheets and recordings of her favourite classical tracks, some by obscure but brilliant pianists. Aside from a handful of personal touches, the room was anodyne—pale-grey walls, a mirrored dressing table and cool, high-gloss fitted furniture.
‘No? I thought it was pretty obvious over the past few days where I stood on the subject of wanting you...’
He had lowered her and now they stood, facing one another in the darkened room.
‘It feels like we’re breaking all the rules. I’m hardly your type. You shouldn’t be wanting this.’ She thought of the blondes who cluttered his life and she thought of herself, so serious, so adamant that there was no room in her life for a guy like Matt Falconer.
‘Here’s what I don’t want,’ Matt responded gruffly. ‘I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to take advantage of you because you’re in a vulnerable place right now. That’s what I don’t want.’
‘That didn’t even cross my mind.’
‘Good. And don’t think that I don’t fancy you. Trust me, I’ve never wanted someone more.’ He guided her hand to his erection and Violet nearly passed out from the surge of terrifying, overwhelming craving that rolled through her like a tsunami, inexorably obliterating every single shred of doubt in its path.
He was so hard beneath the jeans and she was wet between her legs, hot, wet and aching for him.
And scared as well.
Scared because she had never done this before...and her inexperience was like a weight on her shoulders, stifling her desire.
She placed flat hands against his chest and breathed in deeply. She was shaking as she found herself propelled back towards the bed and, when her knees hit the side of the mattress, she sank down with relief and he sat next to her.
‘God, Violet. Maybe you’re right.’ His voice was terse and he raked his fingers through his hair. ‘Maybe this is madness. Tell me if this madness is something you can deal with.’
Don’t look for involvement.Thatwas what she heard in that statement.Make sure you can deal with me walking away.
