An Heir Made in the Marriage Bed

by Anne Mather

  ‘Didn’t my father tell you?’ Matt asked impatiently, and then realised that if Oliver had seen Joanna—or spoken to her, for that matter—he’d have let his son know.

  ‘I didn’t speak to your father,’ said Joanna uncomfortably. ‘I wanted to speak to you.’

  ‘Am I to understand that you’ve had no word from me?’

  ‘Yes.’ Joanna squared her shoulders. ‘Why would I lie?’

  ‘Why indeed?’

  Joanna was indignant. ‘If you’d bothered to read any of my messages, you’d know why I’m here.’

  ‘Your messages?’ Matt looked bemused and Joanna felt a sense of disbelief.

  ‘This is ridiculous,’ she exclaimed. ‘We’re talking at cross purposes here. I’m talking about the half-dozen or so emails I’ve sent you in the past few weeks.’ She steeled herself to meet his gaze. ‘I can’t believe you haven’t read any of them.’

  ‘I haven’t.’ Matt returned her stare. ‘First of all, I’ve been in hospital in both Caracas and Miami. And afterwards, I let my mother deal with any correspondence.’

  Oh, why am I not surprised? thought Joanna bitterly, as comprehension dawned. What a golden opportunity for Adrienne to drive another wedge between them this had been.

  If there hadn’t been one there already, she appended bitterly.

  ‘That’s why my father’s in New York.’ Matt lifted his shoulders in a dismissive gesture. ‘As soon as he realised I’d need some time to convalesce, he insisted on taking over. I suspect retirement was getting boring. Whatever, he couldn’t wait to get on the plane.’

  Taking over was something the Novaks were very familiar with, Joanna thought grimly. But when Oliver Novak had had a mild stroke two years ago, his doctors had advised him to give up his job as CEO of NovCo.

  That was when Matt had taken over, and because Joanna hadn’t wanted to leave her father, who’d just been diagnosed with lung cancer, Matt had agreed that he should divide his time between the New York hub and the London affiliate.

  A double-edged sword, Joanna admitted now. Her and Matt’s relationship had already been strained by their inability to conceive, and her unwillingness to discuss her feelings with him. It hadn’t helped at all to hear about Matt wining and dining male and female investors, even though that had always been part of his job.

  It had never bothered her before, she conceded. In those days, she’d believed Matt loved her, and she’d trusted him implicitly. But being unable to conceive had made her vulnerable, in ways she’d never considered before.

  ‘I had no idea what was going on,’ she declared now, looping the strap of her bag over her shoulder and straightening her spine to face him. ‘I’m not without feelings, you know.’

  But she suspected she now knew what had happened to the messages she’d sent Matt. If they’d passed through his mother’s hands, Adrienne must have read them. But that didn’t really explain why she hadn’t passed them on.

  Nevertheless, her reasons for being here hadn’t changed. She wanted a divorce. It was as simple and as complicated as that. Simple, because all Matt had to do was agree not to contest it; and complicated, because when her father sold his small company to the Novak Corporation, Matt had made her a shareholder in NovCo.

  Not that she wanted any part of the organisation now. But the legal aspects of the situation would have to be gone through. She had hoped that after this interview Matt might come to London, which would have made things easier. But she was here now and she had to accept the situation as it was.

  She should have taken David Bellamy’s advice, she thought ruefully. Her boss at the art gallery, where she’d been working when she met Matt and where she was working again now, had warned her she should leave any communication between them to a solicitor. David had never liked Matt. He had been of the opinion that a man like Matthew Novak was used to women falling at his feet, and he’d been convinced their marriage wouldn’t last.

  And it hadn’t.

  ‘You know what he’s like,’ David had said on more than one occasion. ‘He believes he can twist you round his little finger. And if he thinks I’m involved in your decision, he’s bound to be suspicious. Do you really want to give him the chance to change your mind?’

  ‘Matt couldn’t do that,’ she’d retorted at once, the distance between them convincing her she was right.

  And she was right, she silently insisted. She had only to think of her father, and the torment he must have suffered during his last illness, to know there was no going back.

  Of course, that was months ago now, and her father was dead. But the bitterness she’d felt towards Matt had never gone away. She’d even convinced herself that the love they’d shared had been only a mirage. She was an independent woman these days and she wanted to keep it that way.

  Ergo, the divorce.

  Even so, she hadn’t been prepared for learning that Matt had been ill. When Sophie had first told her what had been going on, her reaction had made a mockery of everything she’d claimed.

  She’d truly believed she was immune to Matt’s dark attraction; that she’d be able to look at him and speak to him without feeling the pull of his sensuality.

  But once again, she’d been wrong...

  CHAPTER TWO

  YET WHAT DID that mean? That she was having second thoughts? But no, Joanna assured herself severely. She was merely reacting to the sexuality of the man, not to any lingering emotions she might feel.

  Matt was regarding her with brooding eyes. Clearly, he was as bemused by the situation as she was. But he evidently had his own agenda, and, gesturing towards the chairs, he said, ‘Why don’t you sit down? I’ll order some refreshments. If you didn’t come to find out if I was still alive, why are you here?’

  Joanna hesitated. Did she really want to behave as if this were just a social visit? Yet what else could she do in the present circumstances?

  So, ‘All right,’ she said offhandedly and a snap of Matt’s fingers brought one of the household staff to the patio.

  He ordered both coffee and a jug of iced tea, and then suggested that Joanna should take the lounger beside his own.

  There were several chairs set in the shade of a striped awning and, resigning herself to the situation, Joanna took the one he indicated. But she couldn’t help stiffening when Matt seated himself beside her, lowering the footrest and turning his chair sideways so that his bare knees were only inches from her own.

  They were alone, and Joanna put down her handbag and smoothed her hair back from her face. It had been tumbled on the ride from the airport, and she wished she’d had time to use a comb. Sophie’s car was a convertible, and, endeavouring a compromise, Joanna looped several errant strands behind her ears.

  Matt, watching her, couldn’t help noticing how silky her hair was and recalling how soft her skin used to feel beneath his hands. It had been too long since they’d been together and he was impatient to tell her that, whatever had gone before, he was sorry they’d been living apart.

  But would she be any more inclined to hear it now than she had before?

  Meanwhile, Joanna was wishing she hadn’t run into Sophie at the airport. A phone call to the Novaks’ house would have surely elicited the information that Matt had been ill and she might well have waited until tomorrow before contacting him. She was not without feelings, but if she’d been able to invite Matt to the hotel, she would have felt a little more in control.

  ‘So...’ Matt regarded her enquiringly, arching a dark brow. ‘Do I take it you have not forgiven me?’

  Joanna pressed her lips together. His words were so unexpected. ‘Did you think I would?’

  ‘It has been nine months since your father died,’ declared Matt quietly. ‘I regret that whole incident, but it wasn’t my fault.’

  Joanna stared at him. ‘Ye
s, so you said,’ she declared coolly. ‘Nevertheless, my father trusted you.’

  ‘And I trusted him,’ he said harshly, unable to prevent himself, ‘which shows what a fool I was. Angus Carlyle trusted no one. Even your mother realised that.’

  ‘Leave my mother out of this,’ exclaimed Joanna tersely. ‘She was hardly a role model. She had an affair with another man.’

  ‘Not while she was married to your father. Glenys met Lionel Avery after she’d asked for a divorce,’ declared Matt flatly. ‘I hope you haven’t continued to hold that against her.’

  ‘My relationship with my mother is no concern of yours.’

  ‘No.’ Matt conceded the fact. ‘But Angus was a jealous man, Jo. He resented the fact that she was happy. He resented our marriage, as well.’

  ‘That’s not true!’

  ‘Of course, it’s true. You were his little girl. He wanted to keep you that way. I’m surprised he let you work at Bellamy’s gallery. He can’t have known the guy was in love with you, too.’

  Joanna’s jaw dropped. ‘That’s ridiculous! David doesn’t love me.’

  Matt shrugged and expelled a weary breath. Reaching for her hand, he ran his fingers sensuously over her knuckles. ‘Let’s not talk about Bellamy or your father, Jo. The past is the past. I prefer to think about the future.’

  Joanna had felt as if she were frozen until he touched her, but now she snatched her hand away. ‘We have no future,’ she said abruptly. ‘You have to know that.’

  Matt’s expression darkened once again. ‘I know nothing of the kind,’ he replied, though there was a trace of bitterness in his tone now. ‘Are you going to let your father’s lies ruin your whole life?’

  ‘My father didn’t lie to me,’ she declared stiffly. ‘He told me the truth.’

  ‘His truth.’ Matt gazed at her with frustrated eyes. ‘I love you, Jo. Tell me what I can do to make things right.’

  It was an actual effort, but Joanna dragged her eyes away from his. ‘I haven’t come here to try and mend our differences.’

  Matt’s lips twisted. ‘I had guessed that.’

  ‘So, you must have realised—’

  But she didn’t get to finish her sentence. Before she could blurt out that the only reason she was here was because she wanted a divorce, the man who had taken Matt’s order for refreshments returned.

  And he wasn’t alone. An older woman, dressed in grey silk lounging pants and a matching grey smock, emerged from the villa behind them.

  ‘Matt,’ she began, her drawling voice revealing her discontent. ‘What is this Aaron tells me about you having a visitor? Someone Sophie brought back from the airport?’

  And then, she saw Joanna, and her lips tightened angrily.

  ‘My God,’ she exclaimed, involuntarily Joanna was sure.

  ‘I—what are you doing here?’

  * * *

  A couple of hours later, Joanna was surveying her reflection in the long bathroom mirror adjoining one of the guest suites.

  God, she thought incredulously. How had she got herself into this mess? She’d had no intention of staying at the Novak house any longer than was necessary. Yet here she was, committed to having dinner with Matt and his family. Committed to spending an evening fighting off Adrienne’s hostility and Matt’s magnetic appeal.

  But only an evening. When Matt had suggested she should stay at the villa, she’d reminded him that she’d booked a room at the Corcovado already. Otherwise God knew what Matt might have expected of her. To share his suite of rooms, perhaps? She couldn’t deny an involuntary shiver at the thought.

  It was all Adrienne’s fault, she decided. The way Matt’s mother had reacted when she’d seen her daughter-in-law had put Joanna’s nerves on edge. The woman had obviously never expected her to come to Miami. And why not? Matt was usually based in New York.

  The situation hadn’t improved when Matt had accused her of interfering. ‘I believe you knew Joanna was trying to get in touch with me,’ he’d said harshly, getting to his feet. ‘When were you planning on telling me about that?’

  And, when she had evidently been lost for an answer, he’d continued, ‘Oh, and what happened to the messages I asked you to send to Joanna? Can I assume they didn’t make it either?’

  ‘Don’t be sarcastic, Matthew!’ Adrienne’s face had become even redder than when she’d first seen her daughter-in-law. ‘I didn’t want you tearing off to London when you’d been so ill. I can assure you, anything I’ve done has been with your best interests at heart.’

  Well, at least that explained why she’d said nothing, Joanna conceded. And perhaps, in the circumstances, she’d had a point.

  ‘So you have been screening my mail.’ Matt hadn’t been inclined to be tolerant, and the look Adrienne had bestowed on Joanna then showed a little of the anger she was trying so hard to suppress.

  ‘As I’ve just said, I didn’t think you were well enough to deal with your—wife’s—problems.’ There had been a distinct hesitation before the word ‘wife’. ‘I would have told you, Matt. Eventually. I never suspected she’d turn up here, uninvited.’

  Joanna had gasped at this, getting to her feet to confront the other woman. ‘I didn’t want to come here,’ she’d said tersely. ‘Your daughter invited me. She was kind enough to tell me that Matt had been ill.’

  ‘As if you care.’

  Adrienne had spoken contemptuously, only to be taken aback when Matt had intervened. ‘That’s enough,’ he’d said grimly. ‘Joanna’s here now. And whether you attempted to thwart her efforts to get in touch with me or not, I think she deserves some respect, don’t you?’

  Joanna doubted Adrienne thought any such thing, but she’d known when to give up. The fact that Matt had defended her must have been a bitter pill for her to swallow, and just for a moment Joanna had been tempted to wrap her arms around his neck and pretend she’d come here to forgive him after all.

  But that would have been foolish. Not to mention giving Matt entirely the wrong idea. Until she’d told him why she was here, she had to keep her distance. If only Adrienne didn’t arouse such a reckless desire for revenge.

  Matt’s invitation to stay for dinner had been unavoidable.

  ‘But I need to change,’ she’d protested. ‘My things are still in the suitcase in Sophie’s car. Why don’t I call a taxi for now, check in at the hotel, and come back again tomorrow? It will give you a chance to read my emails, and then we can discuss why I’m here.’

  ‘What a good idea,’ Adrienne had inserted eagerly, but Matt would have none of it.

  ‘I’m not asking you to move in,’ he’d said shortly. ‘Surely you can pull a change of clothes out of your case. Then you can have a shower and rest for a while until the meal is ready. I do know how exhausting jet lag can be.’

  So here she was, Joanna reflected, preparing to join the rest of the family for the evening meal. But her reflection in the mirror filled her with regret. She hadn’t brought any formal clothes with her and the simple sage-green silk tunic, which she’d planned on teaming with a pair of black leggings to travel home the next day, ended several revealing inches above her knees. Without the leggings—which were too hot to wear tonight—she’d never been more conscious of her bare legs.

  There was no doubt that Adrienne wouldn’t like it; might even think Joanna had chosen something purposely provocative to wear. Which was so far from the truth, it was laughable. The last thing Joanna wanted was to have Matt think she’d had second thoughts about the divorce.

  And yet, when he’d reached for her hand...

  But she refused to entertain such treacherous thoughts. She was sure the problems in their relationship would have developed whether her father had been involved or not.

  The rift between them had probably begun to crystallise when her father’s compa
ny was found to be in difficulties. They’d only been married for a couple of years and, unbeknown to Joanna, Carlyle Construction had been struggling with financial problems for equally as long. It was before Angus Carlyle had been diagnosed with cancer that he’d welcomed NovCo’s assistance. It had been the only way to avoid insolvency and debt.

  However, after the takeover, her father had insisted his difficulties had arisen because of the downturn in the economy, though Matt had told her they’d existed long before that. At the time, Joanna had been so grateful to Matt for his support that she hadn’t questioned his assessment. It had been enough to know her father was solvent again, that Carlyle Construction lived on.

  Until the disaster in the Alaskan oilfield.

  Two men had been killed and several more injured when a drilling platform owned by NovCo had caught fire. It had made all the newspapers on both sides of the Atlantic, with horrifying pictures of the rescue that had taken place. Joanna had been desperate to speak to her husband, to assure herself that he was well and to learn the truth about the incident. But Matt had been working in New York, and had been tied up in meetings with the offshore oil and gas authorities, and had promised they’d talk in more length when he got back.

  And then, when she’d visited her father, who had been in hospital at the time, he’d told her—with some reluctance, he’d insisted—that the real reason Matt didn’t want to talk was because he was trying to blame Carlyle Construction for the accident. He’d assured her that he’d never have told her what was going on if Matt hadn’t betrayed him. As it was, he couldn’t let her think the worst of her father when it wasn’t his fault.

  Unfortunately, it had been another week before Matt had returned from New York. He’d told Joanna when he expected to return, but that was all, and she hadn’t wanted to discuss her father’s affairs over the phone when she hadn’t known who might be listening. Matt had apologised for not being in touch, but he’d said he’d explain everything when he saw her. He’d finished by telling her he loved her, and not to discuss the accident with anyone until he got back.