Page 20 of Marriage Bargain with His Innocent
‘Did you think the occasional woman I’ve brought here over the years was primly shown to a bedroom on another floor when I came to visit? And as for my mother seeing first-hand all the differences between us... Well, there will be time enough to demonstrate those. In the meanwhile, this is a tonic for her and I have no intention of whipping it away just yet.’
‘You’re not exactly being helpful, Matias.’ Georgina drew in a sharp, impatient breath and he raised his eyebrows.
‘Nor are you,’ Matias responded, without skipping a beat. ‘If concern for my mother is top of your agenda, then you should be embracing her enthusiasm for us to spend all our available time down here together, instead of trying to figure out how fast you can disillusion her.’
‘That’s a far cry from you refusing to even get involved in this whole charade!’
Matias opened his mouth to dismiss her snide but perfectly understandable interruption. Instead he found himself saying,sotto voce, and with a sincerity that cut right through all his usual weary cynicism, ‘I’ve lost touch with my mother over the years. Taken care of the essentials and visited only as a matter of duty. Time has wreaked destruction over the years...and my values are so different from my parents’...Hell.’ He raked his fingers through his hair and flushed darkly, for once caught on the back foot. ‘Reconnecting with her, even in these utterly fake circumstances, isn’t something I’m plotting to destroy before it’s even really begun.’
‘Matias...’
‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
The conversation was closed. She could see it in his shuttered expression and hear it in the finality of his voice. He’d opened up and already he was regretting it. She was filled with such an intense craving for this moment of shared confidence to be prolonged that it terrified her.
‘I’ll make sure a guest room is prepared for you,’ she muttered—a reminder more to herself than anyone else of the boundary lines within this little game of theirs.
He returned a clipped nod.
* * *
Being out of his suffocating company for a handful of hours should have come as blessed relief, but instead Georgina spent the evening unable to concentrate on anything. She prepared one of the guest rooms for Matias, realising as she did so that she hadn’t actually been into this particular bedroom since her parents had left. It was dusty and smelled airless.
She aired it all. and then had to fight down thoughts of Matias in the bed. How could these disturbing feelings still have lodgings inside her? Was it the oddness of their situation? Were there still embers of those flames that had been ignited all those years ago that had never been entirely doused? What had she unleashed with this ill-conceived plan of hers?
Following that thought through to any kind of conclusion made her quail with apprehension. So instead she sat at her desk and brought her computer to life, scrolling through the extensive archives of food photos that had inspired her in the past and making rough notes on what sort of vibe she wanted to get for her young chef.
But her mind was a million miles away. Things were no longer reassuringly black and white. There was an ocean of grey in between and she was realising that she was a very poor swimmer...
The following morning she chose her outfit carefully. Casual cotton, ankle-length khaki trousers and a simple white ribbed tee shirt which she tucked into the waistband of the trousers. The same sandals she had worn the day before. Cool, easy to wear clothes put together in a way that gave her shape, brought out the best in her. Clothes that afforded her some measure of the control which she felt she needed—because the minute she was with Matias, playing this stupid game, control seemed to slip through her fingers like water through the holes of a colander.
She heard the buzz of the doorbell and a surge of nerves washed over her, but she was as cool as a cucumber when she pulled open the door to see Matias, lounging against the doorframe, finger poised to ring again, even though she’d answered the door in seconds.
It was another brilliant day and he was in a white polo shirt and a pair of low-slung faded jeans that lovingly hugged the muscular length of his legs. Her eyes drifted helplessly to the dark hair on his forearms and the way that dark hair curled around the dull matt silver of his watch strap.
She dragged her eyes away and said abruptly, ‘You don’t have to do this. Rose would be none the wiser if you go to the next town and work to your heart’s content and then return at a respectable hour for us to join her.’
‘Strangely, I’m uncomfortable with such large-scale lying. Your one whopper is bad enough without adding to the tally by telling a few more lies. Now, let me in. I’d really like to see some of your work.’
He straightened, and after a few seconds’ hesitation Georgina stood back.
He brushed past her into the hall. ‘I haven’t been here in a long time...’
He looked around him at a house that was homely and large but in need of some TLC. He could count the number of times he had stepped foot in this house on the fingers of one hand. For some reason gatherings had always been held by his parents. Or maybe he just hadn’t been around for the ones that had taken place here.
‘Why?’ he asked with genuine curiosity.
Why do you continue to live here...? Why not spread your wings...? You’re young and sexy...
The house was typically the residence of middle-aged people who had no real interest in décor. The wallpaper harked back to an era of flowers and birds and was faded. The wood was shiny, the rugs attractive but threadbare. Everything looked tired and old-fashioned. David and Alison White, from memory, both had the academic’s typical disregard for their surroundings, and for the first time he could understand why their creative daughter had been so enchanted by his parents’ flamboyance.
‘Why what?’
Matias shrugged, letting it go. ‘Where do you work?’
Georgina hesitated, then led him to the conservatory at the back, which she had converted into a studio. Her portfolio of work was neatly stacked on shelves and in a metal filing cabinet, and some of her photos hung on the wall. Her camera equipment was extensive.
Matias was seriously impressed. He peered at the photos on display, standing back and then examining them in detail while she described the ins and outs of food photography and what it entailed with some embarrassment.
