Page 36 of His Secretary's Nine-Month Notice
She had felt uncomfortably out of place in the sexy red dress, because what she had imagined might turn into something a little seductive had actually ended up with the feel of a board meeting. She hadn’t really understood what was going on, and she wondered whether his interpretation of her living with him to see how things went, as opposed to marrying him,meant simply a continuation of what they already had. A perfectly civilised relationship in which she inhabited one of the spare rooms, except maybe the spare room would be in a house outside London instead of an apartment in the centre.
She had slept on her own that night, as she had previously, and he had then vanished to New York for an urgent meeting he couldn’t afford to skip.
Now, here they were. He would be back from the airport any minute. He’d called and told her that he was en route. That they would then leave immediately for the meet-the-parents visit.
‘Don’t you want to have a breather after a long-haul flight?’ she had asked dubiously, but no, he didn’t need a breather, he had told her. Only wimps needed breathers. His parents were expecting him and there was no opt-out clause there.
So here she was, dressed in an outfit that brokered a deal between sensible and a little daring, because she had no real idea what his parents were like. The dress was black, long-sleeved and showed off her now visible bump, but in a way that was still prim and proper even though the dress was reasonably fitted.
She was wearing thick, black tights and her hair was neatly tucked behind her ears. She felt like the PA she had once been.
She was dressed and anxiously waiting when she heard the sound of the front door opening, and she couldn’t contain the surge of high-wire tension and excitement that raced through her.
He was in a pair of faded jeans, a black sweater and a beaten leather jacket. Andstillhe managed to look effortlessly cool and ridiculously elegant.
Their eyes met and for a few seconds neither said anything, then Matt lowered his eyes and said, huskily, ‘You’re ready. You look great, Violet.’
He hesitated.
He wanted to move towards her and take her in his arms, but he remained hovering for a few seconds, wondering how it was that she had opened the door between them and yet, more than ever before in his life, he was afflicted with a sense of uncertainty that he didn’t quite know how to deal with. She exerted a spell over him. He could feel himself wanting to get closer, wanting to sink into her, and that weakness confused him but still it was there, persistent and ever-present.
He knew that she would have been bewildered at his behaviour. No sooner had she told him that she wanted to try to work things out between them as a couple, as a united team for the sake of their baby, than he had disappeared across the Atlantic, leaving her on her own.
He could barely formulate a coherent explanation to give her, but he knew that he would have to, and soon. Today.
He would have to have that talk with her, tell her that he could never love her, that she should banish any such hopes from her head, if they were indeed there at all.
This would be an arrangement, and a very successful one if she didn’t fall into the trap of expecting more than would ever be on offer. There could be no other conversation on the subject. He didn’t do love, he didn’t knowhowto...and if it sometimes felt as though she might be the one, might occupy a space he had never carved out in his heart, well, he would slam the door on those seditious thoughts.
He hadn’t laid a finger on her, and it was driving him nuts, but the speech had to be delivered before any other roads were taken.
He restlessly raked his fingers through his hair and thought that he had never, in his entire life, seen a sight as beautiful as the woman standing uncertainly in front of him, her hand resting lightly on her small bump.
‘Would you like something to eat? Drink?’ Violet asked hesitantly, and he smiled.
‘It’s six thirty. Something will be laid on,’ he commented drily. ‘It’s an hour to their house. The sooner we get there, the better.’
‘Tell me what I should be expecting,’ Violet prodded when they were in the car and powering out of London towards Surrey, leaving the cluttered streets behind.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his face. She wanted so much to do something simple and intimate—place her hand on his thigh, feel the ripple of muscle—but the weird distance he had created between them made her cautious.
She so wanted to ask him outright if he had gone off her. Pregnancy, as it progressed, was not that appealing to lots of guys. Was he one of them? One of those men who were ever so vaguely repulsed by the sight of an expanding stomach?
Maybe he had got it into his head that she was off limits because the doctor had advised rest.
Violet had no idea how to broach the thorny issue, but surely they couldn’t work as a couple if they still carried on occupying separate bedrooms?
They made amicable conversation as the fast car ate up the miles, speeding to a destination that turned out to be nothing at all like what she had expected.
They had gone from the congested streets of London into open spaces where ribbons of houses were crammed along narrow roads, punctuated with traffic lights, pedestrians and cars. London on a smaller scale. But then that had been left behind, giving way to grander properties enclosed in land and guarded by gates. The car continued to bypass the grander houses until it turned left and they were confronted with the sort of impressive wrought-iron gates that advertised barking guard dogs, CCTV cameras and someone on patrol to keep intruders out.
Violet’s mouth dropped open.
‘This is where your parents live?’
‘Your average mansion.’ Matt shrugged and used a beeper on his key ring to open the gates.
‘Wow. It’s not exactly a four-bedroomed semi on an estate, is it...?’ She glanced across at him and frowned, because his body language shrieked tension.His jaw was clenched and his fingers were tightly gripping the steering wheel.
