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Not surprising, considering how they’d parted.
He shoved his hands deep in his pockets.
“Well...” She shot a glance past his shoulder and when he followed it, he spotted Zac and Emily being seated at the bridal table. Off to the side, Paige was deep in conversation with a blinged-out teenager. “It was nice seeing you, Matthew.”
“Wait,” he said, curling his fingers around her arm. She stilled, her eyes snapping up to his, and he quickly released her. “Can I buy you a drink?”
She gave a slight laugh. “We have an open bar.”
“Later.” He held her gaze pointedly.
“No, I don’t think so,” she said, her smile slowly fading.
“A dance, then.”
“Why?”
Her directness startled him for one second before he remembered that it was just one of her many appealing traits. “Because I’d like to.”
What the hell was he doing? The rational part of his brain was telling him to just let her go. But the unsatisfied, something’s-missing part that had survived his marriage’s collapse and last week’s agonizing new client contract negotiations egged him on.
AJ wasn’t a part of his reality. She was a bright memory from his past—an idealistic, purposeful past full of ambition for the future. She was the beach, short shorts, laughter and sensual lovemaking. His present was vastly different. It was endless meetings and lonely foreign countries, the occasional life-threatening situation, a deceitful ex-wife and nosy parents who just couldn’t let the past go. He couldn’t let her leave. Not yet.
“A dance,” he repeated, fixing her with a firm look.
She studied him in silence. Odd. Wasn’t this the woman who gave new meaning to impulsive? Yet now she seemed downright cautious.
“Matthew, I’m being as polite as possible, given we’re at my sister’s wedding. But let me make this clear—I do not want to drink or dance with you. Now if you’ll excuse me...”
She smiled, then turned on her heel and headed over to the bridal table, leaving him speechless and frowning in her wake.
He glared at her gently swaying backside and the swish of ice-blue skirts billowing around her ankles.
Huh. Guess she’s still pissed off with you, then.
Two (#ulink_1f1f02ed-1ab2-5271-898e-caaee9dbff13)
Two long hours crawled by, one hundred and twenty agonizing minutes in which AJ wished more than once she still drank alcohol. A champagne buzz would definitely help get her past this irritating awareness of her ex.
His hair is longer, she reflected as she ate dessert. The shaggy style lent a romantic air to his bold features: the wide Roman nose, the dark eyebrows framing dreamy chocolate-brown eyes, the firm jaw shaded with stubble and the dimpled chin. Oh, he was still lean and angular, with elegant hands and expressive eyes that reminded her of chivalrous knights and romantic poets from days gone by, but in those ten years he’d broadened and matured. It suited him.
Not only was he gorgeous and hyper-smart, he was also a doctor. An actual heart surgeon, for heaven’s sake, every girl’s McDreamy with a deep, soothing English accent that made her shiver. Yet no TV character could hold a candle to the reality that was Matthew Cooper.
Maybe it was the memory of their mutual past. A past based purely on sex—they hadn’t been together long enough to crash and burn under the weight of inevitable relationship complications. Instead, Matthew had brutally cut her off at the knees.
Amazingly, she made it through her toast and then the official bridal party dance without a hitch. Her partner dutifully waltzed her around the dance floor as Zac and her sister glided by, smiling and whispering in that enviously intimate way of all newlyweds.
Eventually the DJ cranked up the music, the lights dimmed and everyone flocked to the dance floor. After refusing to dance with a chisel-jawed blond, she made her way to the bar and ordered a virgin cocktail.
“Having a good time, gorgeous?”The bartender grinned.
“Sure.” She smiled halfheartedly.
He placed the drink in front of her, but when she reached for it his hand lingered, his gaze intent. “Hey, what do you say to—”
Suddenly Matthew was there, easing onto the stool next to her, his polite smile aimed directly at the bartender. It was almost funny the way the other man yanked his hand away and quickly asked, “What can I get you, sir?” But when the bartender went to fix a coffee and Matt turned to face her, amusement was the last thing on her mind.
After the year she’d had, she was so not up to facing the man who’d dumped her nearly ten years ago.
AJ stared into her drink, watching the bubbles rise to the surface as she stirred it with the straw. She’d been good enough to have hot holiday sex with but not good enough to introduce to his parents or take out on an official date. To advertise as girlfriend material.
Ah, but it had been amazing sex.
The memories made her cheeks flush. With a small sigh she shoved the straw between her lips and took a sip, ignoring his gaze.
The bartender placed the coffee on the bar—espresso, no sugar—and her eyes were drawn to Matt’s long fingers curling around the cup. His scrutiny was beginning to unnerve her. Sure, he’d always been intense, examining things from every possible angle. It was part of what made him such a brilliant surgeon. But this...this...singular attention, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, was something different.
“Stop staring. I haven’t changed that much,” she finally said, irritated.
“You have.” He lifted the cup to his lips and took a chug, then carefully replaced the cup on the saucer.
“How?”
One eyebrow went up. “Fishing for compliments, AJ?”
“No.”
His expression changed. “Yeah, I remember that about you. You look...” He paused, and an inexplicable rush of anticipation stilled AJ’s breath. “Thirty-two suits you,” he finally said. “Very much.”
Oh. Perversely disappointed, she took another sip of her drink and smiled politely. “Thank you.”
“So how’ve you been?”
If you don’t count my surgery, my screaming biological clock and the fertility clinic appointment tomorrow? “Fine.” She eased off her chair and smiled once more, only this time it felt as if her face was about to crack. “Well. It was nice seeing you. Again. I—” When he muttered something under his breath, she frowned. “Sorry?”
“I said, crap. What the hell’s gotten into you, AJ? It wasn’t ‘nice’ seeing me again and you know it. So stop faking.”
AJ took a step back and crossed her arms, trying to rein in her irritation. “You know what? I’m not doing this with you. Not here, not now.” And she abruptly turned and stalked off.
Her heels barely made a sound on the stucco dance floor, the thumping music drowning out everything except the anger in her head. She managed to dodge a handful of dancers, then a tipsy guest, before making it through an archway at the far end of the room. With a vicious yank she pulled a door open and stepped inside the luxurious foyer that led to the restrooms.
Pausing at one of the full-length mirrors, she stared at her reflection, then cupped her cheeks, heat flaring beneath her palms.
Matthew Cooper was an arrogant ass. He was a trust-fund kid with upper-crust parents and a British ancestry dating back to the Battle of Hastings. An insanely intelligent silver-spooner who never knew what it was like to truly struggle...for a life, for control, for his next meal. He was the most self-centered, overbearing—
No. This wasn’t about him. Her life had been one insane rollercoaster ride since April: in the space of a week she’d gone from her normal checkup to being prepped for surgery to remove ovarian cysts. Determined to keep Emily’s happy prewedding bubble intact, she’d told no one, but her luck had run out when she’d run into Zac at the hospital, where he’d been donating some huge sum to the children’s ward and she’d been coming out of post-op. She’d sworn him to secrecy, but then the rat had insisted on paying for everything, including a week’s recuperation at a private health facility.
It’s highly unlikely you’ll be able to bear a child, Miss Reynolds.
Oh, her surgeon had his sympathetic bedside manner down pat, and a few years ago she would’ve brushed off his concern with barely a backward thought. The mere idea of her—Miss Single Girl, Life of the Party—having kids was laughable, right? Her fractured childhood notwithstanding, she loved the fact she could pick up stumps and move across the state on a whim, answering to no one, depending on no one and needing no one. Sure, there were those weird little pangs when she saw Emily and Zac together and she briefly yearned for something more. And it seemed like all her friends were dropping off her radar one by one, suddenly engrossed in getting married, falling in love or having babies.
Not AJ Reynolds. She didn’t need anyone.
Except now, the most basic choice of womanhood had been ripped from her and the sudden, inexplicable loss gaped like a jagged wound.
She’d started to question all the turns she’d taken to get to this point, every minute choice she’d made. That unfamiliar self-scrutiny had freaked her out, but finally, after a week of agonizing, she’d woken up one morning and known exactly what she wanted.
The heavy sucking sound of the door opening, followed by a sudden brief burst of music and laughter, broke through her thoughts. She narrowed her eyes at Matthew’s reflection in the mirror, refusing to turn around even when the silence lengthened and her skin itched with expectation.
“The men’s room is next door,” she said helpfully.
He ignored her comment. “You’re still angry with me.”
She whirled, ready to do battle, but took a calming breath at the last moment.
“Being angry means I still care.” She tipped her chin up, giving him her best down-the-nose glare, even though he was a good six inches taller. “And I don’t.”
“Right.”
His superiority grated. “Oh, get over yourself, Matt! It’s been ten years. I’ve moved on. Grown up. I’m living my life. You...” She waved a hand, taking in his perfectly suited frame. “You’re probably married to some socialite, chief of something by now and pleasing the pants off your parents—”
“Actually, I’m divorced and run an international medical response team.”
“—and honestly, I don’t think—” AJ paused then blinked. “What?”
“I run GEM. It’s a global emergency medical—”
“Wait, wait, wait. You quit Saint Catherine’s?”
He nodded. “Just over four years ago.”
AJ was stunned. “Holy crap. But you lived and breathed that place. It was your entire existence and you... Wow. What did your parents say?”
“Considerably more than ‘wow.’” The cloud in those hooded velvet eyes spoke volumes, belying the casual quirk of his lips.
“Wow,” she said again. He remained silent as she stared at him.
He’d been married. It was old news, but her heart still smarted. He’d loved someone enough to propose. He’d taken someone else to bed and been loved in return.
Was it wrong to hate someone she didn’t know?
AJ focused on his beautiful mouth. She knew the second his thoughts solidified: his brown eyes darkened, nostrils flaring as he slowly dragged in a breath. “Angel...”
She swallowed. “Don’t call me that.”
She heard a loud click and jumped as the room was suddenly plunged into pitch darkness.
The light timer had run its course. With a soft curse, AJ stuck out her hands and took a step forward.
“AJ?”
“I’m walking to the wall.” She took another step, then another...until she found something solid. And warm. Definitely not the wall.
She sprung back with a dismayed groan and would’ve lost her footing if not for Matt’s quick response. He grabbed her arms, steadying her. “I’ve got you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yes, you are.” The blackness was absolute but she could still hear the smile in his voice.
Her breath hitched as his hands seared her skin. “You can let go now.”
“Okay.”
But he didn’t. Instead, he cupped her elbows and suddenly every one of her senses went on high alert.
His long sensual fingers were warm on her skin and his subtle scent beckoned. When she felt him shift, a wave of body heat swathed her, drawing her into a seductive web.
Damn it. Her heart pounded in familiar anticipation. She heard him draw in a breath, then slowly exhale. That gentle puff of air was way too close to her cheek.
“Matthew. Turn the light on.”
“I will.”
“Now.”
“You are still angry.”
“That doesn’t concern you.” She struggled in his grasp so that when he released her, she crashed into his chest and her lips collided with his.
She gasped and pulled back, a second too late. That fleeting moment of delight had done its job.
The door suddenly swung open, and the light automatically switched back on. They both blinked and turned to see Paige standing in the doorway.
Everyone froze in a strange tableau of embarrassment, followed by an immediate gathering of dignity as AJ and Matt both sprang apart.
“Oh, hey,” Paige said, way too casually. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Matt. The newlyweds are leaving. You want to go?”
“In a minute.” But he stayed where he was, studying AJ so thoroughly that she ended up smoothing down her perfectly straight skirts with nervous fingers.
AJ didn’t miss the way Paige’s speculative gaze swept over them or the small grin on her lips. Oh, great. “I should be going, too.”
“We could share a cab if you want,” Paige said.
“Oh, I still have the bridal car....”
“Really?” As Paige’s face lit up, AJ groaned inwardly. Damn.
“You could share with me, if you like,” she said reluctantly. Say no, say no, say no.
