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“Well, it’s my guess you do whatever suits you, Matt Davis. Like the salt and the cigarette,” she said dryly.
And like Giorgio, keeping her on a string with a stack of cheating lies. Two years she’d wasted on him while he’d kept his real life hidden from her, holding out the promise of a future that was never going to happen. She’d hung on every flight to Rome, wild for the intense romance he showered on her, and all she’d been to him was a bit of fluff on the side.
She thought of her sister and the husband who adored her and their new baby and felt almost sick with envy. Why couldn’t she meet a decent man who didn’t shy clear of commitment? Just the mention of the word, baby, over lunch, had made Matt Davis bolt for a different tack in the conversation.
Her eyes flashed icy derision at the man who’d taken one look at her today and got bed on his brain.
“You want to know about me? I’ll tell you straight before you start nursing any ideas of fun and games.
The next guy who wants to get in my pants will have to put a wedding ring on my finger first!”
His jaw visibly sagged.
Peta smiled. “Ready to play now?”
CHAPTER FOUR
A WEDDING ring?
She wanted marriage? Actively wanted it?
The tennis ball whizzed past Matt so fast he was left totally flat-footed, his racquet still balanced in both hands. Her first serve and she’d aced him!
He saluted her, graciously conceding her the point. She grinned, her face alight with triumphant pleasure at surprising him. Her jaunty walk to the other side of the service line gave warning this had not been a fluke shot. Peta Kelly could really play. Strong arm for a woman, too. Great coordination. He wished she would take her tracksuit off so he could watch her fantastic body in action. The baggy trousers and sweatshirt frustrated his...
The next ball shot down the centre line, leaving him standing again!
“Okay! So I’ve got the cannonball express on the other side of the net,” he remarked appreciatively.
She laughed. “Should I slow up for you?”
“No. I’ve just got to adjust my pace a bit.”
A lot, as it turned out. She was dynamite on the court. Not only could she hit the ball with considerable power, her tactical play was terrific, running him around, lobbing over his head, killing him with deft drop shots. He’d just managed to catch up with her at three games each when she decided to strip off and his concentration was blown to pieces.
Underneath the tracksuit was one of those jazzy little aerobics outfits, stretch shorts and a midriff top in shiny lime green and lemon, very tart and spicy. She blitzed him for the rest of the set and Matt couldn’t bring himself to care. People talked about poetry in motion. Her cute sexy bottom, her flashing, fabulous legs, and her bountiful bouncing breasts would have made the most illiterate man in the world wax lyrical.
“Had enough?” she asked sweetly, having trounced him six games to three.
Matt couldn’t help blurting out what was on his mind. “Are you counting on a long celibate period or are you ready for marriage right now?”
It stunned her speechless for several seconds. They’d met at the net after the last point played and he could see her cornflower eyes glaze in disbelief at the up-front question. She recovered slowly, the glaze giving way to a mocking challenge.
“Given the right man, I’d marry him like a shot. The problem is in finding him. At my age, that’s akin to finding a needle in a haystack. The best ones are already taken and the rest have other agendas.”
A touch of bitterness there. Matt figured she’d been recently let down and was still hurting from it. “How old are you?”
She shrugged, uncaring what he thought of her. “I’m twenty-eight and the years are getting faster.”
“Not so old that you’re out of the race.”
“My sister is twenty-six, married to a great guy, and she’s just had her first baby. Right now I’m feeling very old, very alone, and totally depressed with life in general. A roll in the hay will not fix me up so don’t bother thinking it. On the other hand, another set of tennis...”
“You’ve got it.”
He grinned to himself as he headed down to the end of the court, ready to play again. He had her pegged now. She was using him as a whipping boy for the guy who’d punched out her self-esteem. Several things she’d said over lunch fell into place. Dying her hair I made her feel better. No one was going to take her for a blond bimbo anymore. Matt figured her last lover had done a real number on her, no doubt about it.
But she’d come out fighting.
Choosing such flamboyant colours for her hair was not only a rebellious statement but an aggressive one. She was showing plenty of aggression on the tennis court, too. As for riding a Ducati...Peta Kelly had a lot of guts. No way was she going to hide in a hole and lick her wounds. Her attitude reeked of thumbing her nose at the whole damned world.
Matt admired her for it. He’d always admired people who picked themselves off the floor and got on with life. He wished his mother would do it. With any luck, Peta Kelly might be a good influence on her. She might also be the needle in the haystack he’d been looking for.
The lust she stirred gathered an exhilarating edge of excitement. He played particularly well in the second set of tennis, giving her the workout she wanted and enjoying every minute of it. Sweat made her even sexier. He could see her being very athletic in bed, not the passive type expecting him to do all the work. Making babies with her could be a real pleasure.
He won the set six games to three, matching her previous victory.
“Found your rhythm,” she remarked dryly as they met again at the net.
“Feeling good,” he agreed. “Are you ready to have a baby?”
“What?”
“Like your sister. You said she had a baby recently.”
A sigh of exasperation. “She happens to be married. I don’t think being a single parent is the best idea in the world.”
“I couldn’t agree more. Every kid needs a dad as well as a mum. But suppose you find your right man and he puts a wedding ring on your finger, would you be prepared to start a family straight away?”
“Yes, I would.” Very emphatic.
“What about your career?”
“I’d give it up.”
“Just like that?”
“It’s only a job,” she declared defiantly. “You serve a million people, clean up after them...what’s so great about that? I’d rather serve my own children.” She made a rueful grimace. “Though I could probably get work in airline administration if we needed the money. With the cost of living what it is, most families can only survive on a double income these days.”
“Wouldn’t you miss the glamour of travel?”
A scornful look. “Believe me! When you’ve been all the places I’ve been, what you want most is a place to call home. And all it entails.”
“Could become boring,” he suggested.
She glared at him. “I’d expect you to say that.”
“Why do you ride a Ducati if you’d like boring?”
Her eyes glittered. “That bike is my baby. I talk to it and it responds to me. It doesn’t know how to cheat, either.”
“Ah! A baby substitute.” He smiled happily. “You really do want them, don’t you?”
“What’s it to you?” she demanded, her eyes narrowing in suspicion, probably anticipating he intended making fun of her.
“A fascinating point of view,” he answered truthfully. “Most of the women of my acquaintance seem to think kids would be a hell of a drag on them. Too big a commitment. Lifelong responsibility. No telling how much they’d mess up their other interests...”
“If you run with the fast crowd, what can you expect?” she said sardonically.
He shrugged. “Maybe you’re right You certainly represent a different slice of life.”
“You bet I do. As far as I’m concerned, family is the real world. The rest is fairy floss, here today, gone tomorrow.”
Matt found this philosophy highly encouraging. Peta Kelly was not only a spunky fighter, she was a stayer in the family stakes. “So how many kids would you like to have?” he asked, getting down to the nitty-gritty.
“A whole brood of them,” she tossed at him belligerently. Her chin went up and she marched over to the bench seat where she’d dropped her tracksuit. Having set her racquet aside, she began pulling on the baggy trousers, ruining the lime-lemon symphony for Matt.
“No more tennis today?”
“You got even. Isn’t that enough for you?”
“I don’t mind if you beat me. I enjoy playing with you.”
“I’ve had enough.” The sweatshirt completed the cover up. She turned to him with a forced little smile. “Thanks for the game.”
“My pleasure.” On many levels.
“It was good,” she conceded, then picked up her racquet and headed for the gate.
Matt swiftly collected his own tracksuit, slung it over his shoulder, and joined her for the walk back to the main building, blithely ignoring her dismissal of him. He saw no reason for her not to be sociable until they had to part for their separate accommodation.
“Just for the record, what do you consider a brood?”
She huffed and slid him a glittering look. “Six,” she said silkily.
Quite a number in this day and age. Rather daunting, in fact. Very expensive, too. Just as well he could afford a big house and whatever help might be required.
“Want to peel off now?” she asked.
“What?” The provocative question was highly surprising, coming after her reading him the riot act about getting into her pants.
She stopped, planting a hand on her hip as she surveyed him with derisive disbelief. “Why aren’t you taking to your heels? I’m a broody hen. A homebody. Not your type. I don’t care that you look like Tarzan. I’m totally deaf to the call of the wild. You haven’t got a hope of changing my mind.”
Right! She hadn’t been asking him to strip. She expected him to be scared off by the prospect of having to handle six kids. He would have to show her he was a man of mettle.
“I can see now why you think twenty-eight is old,” he said seriously. “If you want six kids, you’d need to get started on them straight away. Give yourself time to space them out a bit so you can enjoy them as individuals.”
She threw up her hands, almost hitting herself with the tennis racquet. “Why are you persisting with this?” she cried in exasperation.
“I like to understand people.”
“Well, I don’t want six. I only said that to...to...”
“See how I’d react?” he helped.
“Yes.”
“How many do you really want?”
“Four, if you must know. That would be the ideal.” Her face drooped despondently as she looked off into the distance. “But I guess I’d make do with two if I had to. Probably lucky to have two, the way I’m going.”
“Never give up on a dream,” Matt advised, thinking four was really a more manageable number. Two boys and two girls would be just fine. A well-balanced family.
She sighed and resumed walking.
Matt figured he needed to correct her impression of him. The image of Tarzan was not to his liking. Though he had to admit the idea of carrying Peta Kelly off to a tree house and mating with her on the spot had a very strong appeal. She stirred quite a few primitive instincts. He’d like to punch out the guy who’d soured her on men. On the other hand, he suspected violence would not win her approval.
“I’m not an apeman,” he stated as a matter of fact. “I’m actually quite civilised. My mother house-trained me from a very young age. She’d vouch for that if you asked her.”
It earned a wisp of a smile. “You’re really worried about her, aren’t you?”
“Yes. She took my father’s death hard. It’s been almost two years now and she makes no effort to get over it.”
“She must have loved him very much.”
He heard the sympathy in her voice and frowned. Had she really loved the guy who’d done the dirty on her? Matt didn’t like that idea.
“Don’t give my mother sympathy. It’ll only make her worse,” he warned.
She glanced sharply at him. “You’re a hard man.”
“No. A practical one. Sympathy feeds her grief which she uses as an excuse to indulge herself in misery. And might I add, for your benefit, it’s a futile waste of time nursing a broken heart over a guy who wasn’t worth loving.”
Her eyes whirled in confusion. “Your father wasn’t worth loving?”
“He was. I meant the scumbag who cheated on you.”
“Oh!” Resentment flared. “I’d take it kindly if you minded your own business, Matt Davis, and left me to mind my own.”
“You make it my business when you put me on the same level as him.”
“That’s it!” She wheeled on him and stamped her foot. Her blue eyes were laser bolts, searing him with fury. “I don’t have to take any more from you and I won’t.”
“I could be the father of your children,” he said blandly.
“What?” The laser bolts lost direction.
“Might be your best chance.”
