by Kris Pearson
He rubbed a finger unthinkingly backward and forward along his bottom lip while he waited for the hospital to answer. The nerve endings in the sensitive pad of flesh set up a desperate clamour to have soft lips sucking and sliding over his skin. With a silent curse, he tore his finger away but the sensation tingled on.
~♥~
Diana smiled at Kate. “I’m sure you’d find this an invigorating atmosphere.”
“Maybe too much so?” Kate inquired, flicking a glance toward Matthew as he stood by the phone.
“Ahhhh...” Diana murmured. And said no more on that subject. Kate would very much have liked to quiz her further, but it was difficult to find suitable words. In any case, Matthew concluded his call very quickly. She presumed the small hospital was easier to communicate with than the giant complex at home in Auckland.
He returned to his chair and stood for a moment, staring out toward the mountains, body tense, legs braced back. Kate watched him, fascinated. His eyes glittered like mercury in the low sun.
Suddenly he turned further toward her. “Kate—can you stay for a few more days? They want to keep Lottie overnight, but we can have her back tomorrow. I’d appreciate you being here for a bit, if you can arrange it?”
She found him impossible to refuse, and nodded. “Yes—that’s okay.” She had nothing urgent to return to Auckland for, and staying and being helpful might count in her favour, job-wise. At least she’d get to meet Lottie, even if no permanent offer of employment followed. And it would give her more time to size up the situation. To see how difficult it might be living close to Matthew.
“Good—let’s go shopping, then. I’ll get you some warm clothes and decent boots and things.”
“I won’t need boots,” she protested.
“Going to spend the whole time in those pretty little heels?” he suggested, running appreciative eyes down her legs. He turned to Diana. “This could be fun. Where shall we go?”
Kate shook her head as his words sank in and Matthew and Diana discussed shops. She didn’t want to be treated like a paper doll, to be dressed up as some sort of game to amuse him while Lottie was out of the house. “I’ll buy a few things for myself tomorrow,” she said firmly.
Matthew glanced at his watch. “There’s plenty of time,” he said, clattering the coffee cups back onto the tray.
“No, it truly doesn’t matter today,” she insisted.
“We’re off now,” he insisted. “There are other things that need doing tomorrow.”
Diana shrugged and gave Kate a conspiratorial smile. She seemed not to mind being dismissed so ungraciously. “Nice to meet you, Kate,” she said. “We’ll see you about eight tonight, Matthew,” she called as she departed.
Kate closed her eyes with annoyance and sighed gustily. She rose with resignation. What had she just got herself into?
Chapter Three — Games and Gifts
How easily the chance had presented itself! Matthew smiled, unseen, as he led her along the main hallway again. Now he had several days to enjoy the company of the delectable Miss Pleasance. Not to mention dig around and find out what she was really here for. With Lottie so conveniently injured, he could devote most of his time to Kate. It would certainly be no hardship.
Her CV had listed a business degree and indicated she had a marketing background. Business degrees seemed to be a dime a dozen these days. And ‘marketing’ covered everything from serious strategic planning to supermarket shelf stacking as far as he could see.
He thought wryly back to bouncy Penny Carew who’d made a play for him after he’d parted from Martine. Penny’s ‘marketing’ job had proved to be running a demo stand at the deli—frying and handing out bacon samples. He wondered what Kate’s marketing job had entailed, and if it had even existed. There was every chance it was a fake. He’d get her checked out.
But there was nothing fake about her body, that was for sure. He knew he should have knocked when he turned back to her room earlier, but her door hadn’t been closed, and only seconds had passed. She’d certainly moved swiftly to get her jacket off and her jersey half on in that short time. Half on. His gut gave another pleasant kick at the thought.
Her tailored business suit and elegant shoes had not led him to expect such sexy lingerie. What a turn on. High breasts only barely confined in an exceedingly low-cut bra. The startling contrast of black and red lace against ivory skin. And her hair tumbling free in glorious confusion.
There was no way he could have kept his hands off her. And in the guise of helpfulness he’d been able to draw close, touch her, smell her soft female scent, tease her and un-nerve her for the battle of wits ahead. Even better, her hair had been left entirely loose once she’d re-appeared. It fell down her back in a riot of shining dark waves, bouncing and floating as she moved. He couldn’t wait to thread his fingers back through it and pull her into his arms.
Kate followed him through the house, and he switched on the light in the storeroom before they entered the garage. An enormous amount of wine lay in racks against one wall, and several jackets hung waiting on hangers. He rummaged amongst them, unhooked a plump, down-filled white one, and held it out to her.
“You’ll look like the abominable snowman in that, but it’ll keep you warm.” When he reached across to help her into the jacket, Kate stepped swiftly aside. So much for hoping to get close to her in the doorway...
“Not so abominable,” he amended, as she slid the zip up.
“I’ll get my bag,” she said, trying to turn away.
“Not for the clothes, you won’t,” he retorted, restraining her with a hand on her arm. “My shout entirely. I asked you to stay, so I’ll provide anything you need.”
And if that makes you feel beholden to me, so much the better.
“I’d rather buy my own clothes, thank you.”
“Nonsense, Kate. Let me have a little spend-up.”
~♥~
She shrivelled at the thought. Wife out of the way in hospital... husband offering to buy goodies for the hired help? She didn’t like the feel of that at all. And they were apparently to sleep in the big house together with no-one else present. Hundreds of yards from the nearest neighbours. “No thank you, Mr. McLeod,” she said as sharply as she dared.
“Matthew,” he drawled lazily. “Mr. McLeod is my father.”
He was still standing far too close to her, running a lazy hand up and down her arm. “I’m not short of a dollar, Kate. For God’s sake let me have some fun with the money,” he urged, finally letting her go.
He shrugged his own jacket back on and turned her toward the garage. She gritted her teeth with annoyance. How dare he just take her over like this?
As they drove out, she glanced around with more attention. The huge house really was fantastically sited. It looked as though it had squatted there forever, but surely it must be only a couple of years old?
It had been very cunningly landscaped. Kate could now see the gravelled walkways and paved areas were abundantly edged with plantings of native tussock grasses and low sprawling shrubs. There was a big rock-edged pool, and a sloping outcrop of jagged stones and vegetation—no doubt also rather recently created. Maybe this was the rock garden where Lottie had slipped?
Matthew’s thoughts echoed her own. “She fell just over there,” he said, pointing. “There was a hard frost this morning. You’ll need to be careful what you wear on your feet outside.”
Kate nodded, thinking she’d need to be careful of more than that. She vowed to keep her whole body well concealed from his unsettling eyes. No more catching her in her underwear! No further chances to touch her. Disturbing little tremors shot right through her whenever he was near. And it seemed he was always near. His sense of personal space was way different from hers.
At least while they were driving his seatbelt kept him away. Even so, a charged silence stretched between them, and an acute awareness.
“Coronet Peak,” he said as they swung around the last curve of t
he long driveway. Kate’s gaze followed the direction of his pointing hand toward the nearest mountains. The sun had slid lower, gilding the peaks a rosy gold.
He wore no wedding ring—no other ornaments of any kind. Not a jewellery man, she thought. A man with a taste for understated classic design. No doubt his dark trousers were beautifully cut and tailored, but she’d registered his long, strong thighs rather than the garment covering them. His fine-knitted wool jersey was unremarkable in its design, but beautifully finished. His dark blue zip fronted jacket proclaimed itself expensive by the symbol on the pocket, but the style was little different from hundreds of others in Queenstown.
He was very tall, and Kate always felt that gave a man authority. Perversely she found her own height a drawback.
Big, arrogant ‘we’ll do things my way’ Matthew was a force to be reckoned with. His face was hard as a gangster’s—until he flashed one of his engaging wide smiles. What would a man with a face like that be capable of? Kate easily imagined ruthless business deals just inside the law but skating dangerously across thin ice. How had he made his money—or was it all Lottie’s? She couldn’t see him as a kept man. And his office had looked very business-like.
Plainly he was used to getting his own way. She was still astounded at how quickly he’d disposed of Diana, bulldozed her own objections aside, and set out to take her shopping.
They drove in near silence the rest of the way back into Queenstown. The hard blue light had softened to hazy gold. It filtered down through the bare mid-winter trees, dusting the houses and the lake with magic; gilding the tall conifers.
Kate’s mind roamed free as the lovely scenery floated by. Suddenly she remembered something her father had said in happier days. He’d bought her mother a lacy black nightgown and negligee, and teased that he therefore had the right to dress her in them. Kate froze at the thought that Matthew might feel the same.
“What is it, Katie?”
She flinched. Was she so transparent he could read her mind? And wasn’t ‘Katie’ too familiar? “Nothing much,” she replied. “But I’m not happy about you paying for anything. I was thinking of something my father once said—about a man feeling he had the right to dress a woman up if he’d provided the clothes.”
Matthew gave a sudden surprised laugh. “I’ll show you how to lace your walking boots up properly, but you can put your own panties on.”
Kate caught her breath and stayed speechless for a second. He was being far too familiar. She was really on her guard now.
“I won’t need any panties, thank-you,” she insisted, trying to sound cool and sophisticated and in control.
“How many pairs did you bring?”
“What!?”
“One spare pair, I imagine. You thought you were only stopping overnight.”
“I’ll wash today’s out and they’ll be dry in good time,” she said in a voice that brooked no argument. She looked sideways and caught the corner of his mouth quirking with amusement. Right—if he wanted snappish behaviour she could oblige...
“Sorry, sorry,” he soothed, just before she exploded. “But it’s so nice to have someone to spar with.”
“What about Lottie?”
“God, she’s too Dutch. No sense of the ridiculous.”
“And my panties are ridiculous?” Kate asked, softening despite herself.
“I don’t know Katie—are they? Black and red to match the rest, I hope...”
Despite her best intentions, a sneaky chuckle escaped. “Is that a job interview question?” she asked, trying to keep a straight face.
His answering laugh filled the SUV, and guilty pleasure flowed right through her. Maybe he’d only been teasing?
“Not a question I felt like asking the worthy Miss Humphries or the scary Ms Darkmoor...”
“And what were they like?” she asked, wondering why she was holding her breath.
“Baggy pink bloomers and a studded leather chastity belt, I imagine.”
Kate collapsed with mirth at his unexpected reply. She pictured the women who might wear such undergarments. Obviously he’d found neither of them right for Lottie. And they weren’t to his taste either. Her spirits lifted, because maybe her chances of getting the job were now better than she’d expected.
“Anyway, you’ll need some warm trousers and a couple of jerseys for the next few days, Matthew continued.
Such an abrupt right turn from chastity belts had Kate blinking and trying to stifle her laughter.
He ploughed firmly on. “A better jacket maybe? T-shirts? Thermals? And I’m serious about the boots—you can’t trot around in heels all the time.”
“I’d still rather pay for things myself.”
“Not a show. You stay, I pay. End of story.”
She drew a sharp breath but held her tongue after that.
He turned into a parking space with exaggerated care.
“It’s all right—I’m holding on this time,” she said, giving him no chance to pounce on her again.
They walked briskly into the vibrant outdoor clothing store he’d discussed with Diana. An assistant approached within seconds. “Mr. McLeod—how can I help you today?”
“Hi Sharon—Lottie and I have a friend staying with us unexpectedly. Kate needs a few days’ clothing—and a decent pair of walking boots.” He drew a slip of paper from his pocket. “There’s your budget. Choose whatever you need to keep her warm.”
Sharon glanced briefly at the ‘budget’ and smiled broadly. “No trouble, Mr. McLeod.”
Matthew turned to Kate. “I’ve something to do for a while, so have fun.” He sauntered away.
“I won’t need much really,” Kate said.
“Make the most of his money,” Sharon said. “He’s got plenty—and think what I could do with the commission.”
Kate shrugged. She’d been outmanoeuvred by experts.
Sharon selected several ensembles, and gathered up little extras to compliment them. Kate disappeared into the fitting room with armful after armful.
It was a whole new experience to shop with no regard to cost. Her previous salary had been perfectly adequate, and she was fond of nice clothes, but still... this was heaven. She was determined to keep expenses to a minimum though. The less she was indebted to Matthew McLeod, the better.
~♥~
Matthew strode down the mall trying to stifle his grin. Where was the lingerie boutique? The window displays had often caught his eye, although he’d never shopped there. A few pairs of pretty panties would be the ideal next step in his campaign. He’d never met a woman who didn’t enjoy lingerie, and after his teasing conversation with Kate they’d almost be an appropriate gift. Almost. His grin grew wider. They’d be a compliment and a goad in equal measure. He concocted a suitable story as he drew nearer. Something to hide in Christmas crackers, perhaps?
He pushed the door open, and warm fragrant air surrounded him. Please God the saleswoman wouldn’t be one of Lottie’s close friends. A tiny green thong on a display stand screamed for attention, and he paused, picturing the scrap of lace and elastic on Kate’s lithe body.
“Good afternoon, sir. How may I be of help?”
The girl looked barely twenty. At least ten years younger than Lottie. Good.
“I need half a dozen pairs of assorted panties,” he began. “We’re having a mid-winter Christmas party, and I’m in charge of finding favours to fit inside the crackers. Something small and pretty? And I guess we go for medium sized?” He glanced at the green thong again.
“That’s from our Mint Julep range,” the assistant said, sensing a customer willing to spend serious money. “We import the line direct from New York. The same designer has this amazing Scent of a Rose collection, too.” She produced another skimpy thong—this time black, and with a deep red rose printed on the front panel. Tiny crystal dewdrops sparkled among the petals. “The fabric is specially perfumed with rose essence. It’s guaranteed to last the life of the garment.”
Matthew’s lips twitched. The few square inches of fabric weren’t large enough to qualify as a ‘garment’ in his opinion. “One of each then,” he said, imagining Kate’s annoyance when she discovered them. “What have you got that’s a bit more concealing?”
The girl searched rapidly through a rack labelled ‘Silkies’ and held up a hanger with a pair of French knickers. “Very retro Hollywood,” she suggested. “Pure silk, with Brussels lace. There’s this cream and ecru option, or... violet and black.”
“The violet.”
“And something more modern?” From further down the rack she drew a pair of black satin boxers printed with silver stars.
Matthew had a sudden flash of Kate wearing them with her black and red camisole. Kick-boxing. Long legs flying. “Perfect,” he agreed. “And, regrettably, we’d better have something more everyday to balance the selection out.”
The girl grinned. “Cotton,” she said. “But we have beautiful fine eco-cotton from Egypt.” She led him to a bin of white bikini panties, each embroidered with a different motif on the hip. “Flower? Angel? Fairy?”
Matthew opted for the angel.
“Look—just right as a pair,” she said, pulling out a small cartoon devil.
He laughed and agreed. “So there’s my six.” He followed her to the sales counter and watched as she removed the price tags, carefully folded each pair, settled them into a nest of lilac tissue paper, and slid them into a shiny bag printed with the boutique’s name and address.
“Anything else, sir?” she asked as he produced his credit card. He thought for a moment. Kate’s overnight tote had been surprisingly small; plainly she’d packed the bare minimum of what she might need. “A robe?” he suggested. “Something long and warm?”
She indicated a rack at the side of the store. “Velour from Italy. They come with matching slippers.”
He took a moment to imagine Kate padding around his home with very little under her robe. “A medium in cream—and the slippers had better be large because she’s tall.”
“They’re backless,” the girl said, checking the sizes, “So I don’t think they’re too critical.... but... yes, we have both.”
