Page 37 of The Last Resort
This morning she had other things on her mind apart from the man whose kisses had woken in her in the early hours. Today was the day the city council planning committee was scheduled to sit. The day when she would finally get to go up against the guy Dan had dubbedthe tire kicker.
I’m itching to cross swords with anyone who thinks that tearing down the grand old lady is a good idea. No one with a heart could even consider doing such a terrible thing.
There’d been whispers about town of other developers having undertaken private research trips to Aspen, but Dan had assured her, his parents had not been approached. In her brother-in-law’s opinion, there was only one potential buyer likely to attend tonight’s planning meeting.
Standing brushing her hair while Matthew finished up in the shower, Rachel pondered the day ahead. As soon as he came back to the bedroom, she was going to have to let him down gently and cancel their plans to meet tonight. There was a good chance that the council meeting would go late. If she andthe tire kickergot into a heated discussion over the future of the Green Tree Resort, who knew what time it would end?
I need a few hours to get through my notes and the draft designs before then.
She’d just slipped her hairbrush back into her overnight bag when Matthew appeared in the doorway of the bedroom.
“Rach, I won’t be able to meet you for lunch or dinnertonight. I have a really tight deadline. Is it okay if we catchup tomorrow? I’m so sorry,” he said.
Rachel held back a sigh of relief.Thank god.
“Don’t be sorry. I actually have some work I need to get finished today, and then I have a personal commitment this evening. So, your timing—as always—is impeccable, Mister Jones.”
He came to her, moving with ease and grace as he wrapped an arm about her waist and leaned in to kiss her. She rose up on her toes offering him her mouth.
“It’s snowing outside. Cold. Would you like to take my scarf home with you? Consider it as a little something to remember me by in the long twenty-four hours until we see one another again.”
Kellie had let Rachel borrow her car for the past few days, so she was going downstairs to the underground parking garage, then driving home. The chances of her actually going out into the elements were scant, but his offer had her smiling.
Matthew wore his olive green scarf all the time. His scent had to be infused into its woolen fibers. It would be nice to have it lingering on her skin when she fronted the planning committee tonight.
“How will you survive all that time without it?” she asked.
“Memories of you and the sweet moment when you climax in my arms will be enough to keep me warm.”
A flush of heat raced down her back. Matthew was a generous lover. And despite her best intentions, there was no mistaking the feelings she had developed for this wonderful man. She was in love.
“Then I will wear you scarf with pride until I see you tomorrow.”
He hurried over to the chair where his scarf hung andwhen he returned, draped it carefully around her neck. She took a deep breath, inhaling his scent.
I was right, Matthew is infused into the fabric.
When they had more time, she would ask about his cologne. It was such a warm mix of spice and something rich she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She doubted he’d bought it over the counter at a department store. For an accountant, Matthew seemed to have expensive taste and spending habits.
She gave him one final kiss. “Good luck with your deadline. I’ll message you later tonight, once my meeting is over.”
“That would be great, then I can sleep knowing we have said goodnight. Good luck with your meeting, I hope it’s a success.”
Oh boy, I am falling for him. Hard.
Leaving the hotel, Rachel made the short trip back home. When she pulled into the drive, she didn’t go inside straight away, instead she sat in the car and pondered her growing attachment to Matthew Jones. Here was a guy that she could actually imagine spending a family Thanksgiving with, someone who would likely want the whole white picket fence and 2.4 kids running around in the front yard. She’d always wanted that too.
I just don’t know if I can deliver on that dream. Not now.
Her family was still reeling from an earth-shattering disaster. Her father’s downfall had seen her own reputation badly stained. There were some people in Atlanta who’d made no secret of their opinions about Scott Davilla’s daughter. People who’d claimed Rachel had to have been involved in the fraud. Her innocence and the findings of the authorities didn’t count for much. The sins of the father had been passed on to her. And it had cost her everything.
From what little she did know, accountants tended to be honest people. What would Matthew say when he discoveredher father was in prison for fraud and embezzlement? He might be sweet and kind, but he certainly wasn’t a fool. He deserved to have a woman in his life whose family wasn’t as ruined as hers.
I don’t like lying to him, but I can’t tell him about my past. Not yet.
Not until he knew her better. Given time she might be able to build enough trust that when she did reveal her past, he would understand that none of it had been her fault. That she and the rest of her family were as much a victim of her father’s greed as his clients had been.
Her fingers ran idly along the edges of Matthew’s soft as silk woolen scarf. It was divine. Unlooping it from around her neck, Rachel spotted the fabric tag sewn into the corner.‘Made in France.’She unfurled the scarf and took in the unmissable Hermès logo. Being from Atlanta she hadn’t had the need for a winter scarf, but her mother had several of the French luxury brand’s silk ones. This scarf had to have cost at least a thousand dollars.
