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‘Are you all right?’ she asked, her brow creasing in concern.
Matt gave his head a quick shake to dispel the lingering fuzziness and cleared his throat. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Why?’
‘You went very pale for a second.’
‘You startled me.’
Her smiled widened and his temperature went up a notch. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I thought it would be safer to alert you to my presence rather than wait for you to barrel straight into me.’
At the thought of his body colliding with hers, of having all that softness and warmth plastered against him, a bolt of desire kicked him in the gut. A vision of the two of them tumbling down onto the grass, limbs entwined, mouths jammed together, hands everywhere, slammed into his head and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest.
So much for trying to kid himself that his reaction to her was simply shock. Shock had never given him an erection harder than granite.
Great. Scorching attraction. Just what he needed.
Matt’s jaw tightened. ‘I was deep in thought,’ he said, finally drumming up some of that steely control he was supposedly so famous for and hauling his body into line.
She tilted her head to one side. ‘I could tell. And not about anything good by the looks of things.’
‘Not particularly.’
‘That’s a shame.’
‘Is it?’
She nibbled on her lip and nodded. ‘I think so. Especially on a day like today.’
‘What’s so special about today?’ Apart from being the day he thought he might be losing his mind.
‘Well, for one thing, the sun is shining, and, this being Britain in May, that’s a cause for celebration. Plus the flowers are beautiful and the air smells heavenly.’
Were they? Did it? Matt had been too wrapped up in his thoughts to notice. Now his thoughts had been scattered to the four winds. Forget the flowers. Forget the air. She was beautiful. She smelt heavenly. And her mouth was something else. ‘Really?’ he muttered, trying not to imagine what it would feel like crushed beneath his.
She nodded. ‘A day like today should be all about lying on the grass, reading the papers and drinking rosé,’ she said, giving him another wide smile that had his control threatening to unravel all over again, ‘not marching around and glowering at the ground.’
At that timely reminder about where he was and what he was supposed to be doing, Matt pulled himself together. This was ludicrous. If the people of Sassania could see the state of him now, they’d have thought twice about their decision to reinstate the monarchy.
‘Unfortunately I don’t have time to read the papers or drink rosé,’ he said sharply. And as for sprawling over the grass, well, the less he thought about that the better. ‘So, if you’ll excuse me …’
She stuck out her hand. ‘Laura Mackenzie.’
Matt resisted the urge to grind his teeth. ‘Matt Saxon.’ He took her hand and ignored the leap of electricity that shot up his arm. ‘Look, is there something I can help you with?’
‘I hope so.’ Her voice sounded a little hoarse and she ran her hand over her hip as she cleared her throat.
Matt frowned. ‘If it’s directions you’re after I’m afraid I won’t be of much use.’ He spent so little time in the area he’d had to programme his satnav just to get here.
She shook her head and the sun bouncing off her hair, dazzled him for a second. ‘I’m not after directions.’ She shot him another smile that made his stomach contract. ‘In fact I’m after you.’
For a second Matt couldn’t work out what she was talking about. ‘Me?’
She nodded and a chill, as if the sun had disappeared behind a cloud, snaked down his spine. The lingering trace of desire fled and his body tightened for an entirely different reason.
Why would she be after him? How did she know who he was?
Unless she’d been watching him.
As suspicion slammed into him his pulse began to race. She couldn’t be …
He ran his gaze over her again, this time skating over the curves and the clothing. This time his eyes clocked the camera slung over her shoulder. The corner of a notebook and the pen sticking out of the back pocket of her shorts. The hopeful, eager look on her face.
The chill running through his body turned to ice. Oh, damn. It appeared she was.
His gaze trailed back up and he scrutinised her features, comparing them against the bank of journalistic faces he’d filed away over the past few months. But he drew a blank. Whoever she worked for, he thought grimly, she was new.
Stamping down hard on something that felt suspiciously like disappointment, Matt hardened his heart. Why was he surprised? Why was he disappointed? Once again life was simply proving that some people were only out for what they could get.
‘I’m glad we bumped into each other,’ she said.
He just bet she was. ‘Why?’
The smile faltered and her eyes widened a fraction at his tone. ‘I was on my way to see you.’
‘Were you?’ he drawled as a strange sort of numbness seeped through him.
‘You’ve come from the manor house.’
‘I have.’
Matt shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his heels, deciding to wait and see to what lengths this one would go to wangle an interview. Her outfit was certainly designed to kill.
‘Nice place.’
‘Thank you,’ he said coolly.
‘Fabulous detail on the gabling.’
‘Really.’
‘Absolutely. And beautiful—er—grounds.’
‘Naturally.’
‘Are you the gardener?’
Matt frowned. The gardener? Hah. ‘I’m the owner.’ As if she didn’t know.
Her eyes widened. ‘Oh.’ And then she gave him a smile that had the ground beneath his feet tilting all over again before he could tell it not to. ‘Well, that’s even better.’
‘Of course it is.’
She frowned and blinked. ‘What?’
Oh, she did the innocent thing very well. ‘What do you want?’ he said.
Laura’s smile faltered. ‘If it’s not too much trouble, I was wondering if I could come over and take some photos. Of your house,’ she added.
Too much trouble? Matt’s jaw clenched. The complete and utter gall of the woman.
‘It would only be for a second,’ she added, as if sensing his reluctance. ‘You know, just a few shots. If you wouldn’t mind …’
Matt’s tenuous grip on his patience snapped. ‘Yes, I do mind, and no, you can’t.’
The smile slid from her face and she recoiled as if he’d slapped her. For a moment she just stood there, staring at him in shock, her face draining of colour so fast he thought she might be about to pass out.
Matt steeled himself against the brief stab of guilt and the flash of distress in her eyes and told himself not to be so idiotically soft.
What the hell had she expected? That he’d welcome her into his house with open arms? That he’d want to be photographed lounging on the sofa in his drawing room? That he’d roll over and offer her a double-page spread of the new ruler of Sassania ‘at home’?
If she really thought that, she could think again.
Laura blinked a couple of times and then pulled her shoulders back. ‘Oh. Right,’ she said blankly. ‘Well. Sorry to have bothered you. Enjoy your weekend.’
Like that was a possibility now.
As she gave him a vague nod and turned to walk back in the direction she had presumably come from, Matt’s hand shot out and clamped around her upper arm. ‘Not so fast.’
CHAPTER TWO
WHAT the hell?
Laura felt Matt’s fingers dig into her arm and went rigid as alarm flooded through her.
Well, alarm and a whole lot of something else. But alarm was what she decided to channel at that particular moment. Because he might have eyes the colour of dark molten chocolate and thick brown hair that her fingers itched to thread through. He might have a voice that made her think of whisky and honey and warm nights in front of a fire. And he might have a body that she longed to get her hands on.
But he was clearly a psychopath.
All she’d wanted was a bit of a snoop and a few lousy shots of his house, for goodness’ sake. Anyone would think she’d been after his soul.
‘Ow,’ she muttered, wincing and trying to wriggle away from beneath his fingers.
His grip loosened and she pulled back and rubbed her arm where her skin burned. If she had any sense whatsoever she’d be spinning on her heel and racing back to the safety of her cottage. For although she’d been drooling over his house for weeks, at no point had she considered the fact that its owner would be anything other than congenial and cooperative.
Hah. How wrong could you get?
Laura glanced up to find him glowering at her and nearly swooned at the fierceness of his glare. Whatever his problem was, and he clearly had many, she wanted nothing to do with it. She had enough problems of her own. The biggest one at the moment being the treacherous way her body appeared to respond to him.
When he’d taken her hand she’d nearly leapt a foot in the air from the jolt of electricity that shot up her arm. And then when he’d looked her up and down, so thoroughly, as if he could see right through her clothes, every inch of her body had burned in the wake of his gaze. The heat that had whipped through her when she’d been ogling him through her binoculars had been nothing compared to the scorching heat that was thundering through her now.
In the face of such blatant hostility her reaction to him was perverse.
What exactly was it about that penetrating stare of his that pinned her to the spot? Why were her insides going all squirmy and quivery? And more importantly, why wasn’t she taking advantage of the fact that he’d released her, and running off just as fast as her size sevens would carry her?
That was what the old Laura, the one who avoided confrontation like the plague and never said no, would have done. And despite the assertiveness course she’d recently completed, there was enough of the old her still floating around to make her long to run and bury herself under her duvet.
But scarpering in the face of confrontation wasn’t an option any longer, was it? Laura squared her jaw. No. Now she dealt with stuff. Or at least that was the idea. Up until now she hadn’t had the opportunity to practise.
Channelling everything she could remember from the course, Laura took a deep breath, stuck her chin up and returned his glare. ‘What do you want now?’
‘Who do you work for?’ he snapped.
She blinked and inwardly flinched. ‘That’s none of your business.’
‘What?’ His eyebrows shot up.
Laura bristled. ‘Well, who do you think you are hauling me around and demanding to know who I work for?’ She tilted her head and shot him a defiant stare. Her tutor would be proud. ‘You know, your small-talk skills leave a lot to be desired.’
Matt’s face tightened. ‘I’m not interested in small talk. Do you or do you not work for Celebrity magazine?’
Laura frowned. Maybe the mushrooms she’d eaten for breakfast had had a touch of the magic about them, because this conversation had her baffled. ‘Of course I don’t. Currently I don’t work for anyone.’
‘Freelance?’ he snapped.
Made redundant, but there was no way she was going into that. ‘On sabbatical.’
‘Right,’ he drawled, clearly not believing her for a second. ‘Then why were you watching me?’
Uh-oh. Laura’s mouth opened. Then closed. And then to her dismay she felt her cheeks begin to burn. ‘What makes you think anyone was watching you?’ she said, aiming for a blank look in the hope that it would counteract the blush. If asked, she’d attribute that to the heat.
Matt raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, let me see,’ he said dryly. ‘How about a pair of binoculars glinting in the sun and pointing straight in my direction?’
Oh, rats. Laura’s heart plummeted. So much for thinking she’d been discreet. She shouldn’t have pushed her luck and indulged for so long.
Her brain raced through her options and she realised depressingly that she had no choice but to confess. Since she’d already told him she’d come looking for him she couldn’t even bluff her way out of it.
She ran a hand through her hair and straightened her spine. ‘OK, fine. But technically I wasn’t actually—’
‘I’ll ask you one more time,’ he said flatly, his eyes narrowing. ‘Which scurrilous rag do you work for?’
Which scurrilous rag? Laura’s hand fell to her side and she blinked in confusion. What on earth was he talking about? Perhaps she ought to suggest he get out of the heat. What with all that bending and twisting while log-chopping, the sun must have gone to his head. Something had certainly gone to hers and she hadn’t even been in the sun. ‘I don’t work for a rag, scurrilous or otherwise,’ she said. ‘I’m an architect.’
A flicker of surprise flashed across his face and then vanished. ‘That’s one I haven’t heard before.’
Laura’s hackles shot up. ‘It’s not a joke.’
‘You’re absolutely right.’
‘Why would you think I was a journalist?’
