by Pat Ballard
And he turned and left her standing alone, with only the sound of her pounding heart.
Back in the guest suite he had been allotted, Matt threw himself across the bed and stared at the ceiling. Wow! What a live wire! He could tell by the kiss he’d just shared with Hanna that she was more woman than he had ever encountered.
But he was really going to have to be careful she didn’t get the impression that all he was after was sex. He had to reach her intellect. Had to find out the things she was interested in.
But every time he was around her all he could think of was how soft and desirable she looked. He felt his arousal start again, just remembering her response to their kiss.
Sitting up, he reached for the phone and dialed a number.
“Dave? This is Matt Corbett. Did you hear anything about that deal we were discussing?”
“Yeah, Matt. Can you be in the studio tomorrow around noon? Some of the boys will be in and we want to run through those lyrics you gave me.”
“Great! And thanks, Dave. I owe you.”
“Man, if this thing goes through, I’m the one who’ll owe you. And, Matt, I meant to tell you, you’re welcome to use my bike until you get a car, if you need it.”
“Thanks, Dave. I believe I’ll take you up on that. I hate to ask to borrow a car, here, and nobody’s offered me one. Hell, I don’t know if they have anything except the limo.”
“You poor thing,” Dave chided. “I really feel sorry for you. You’re the only person I know who could lose everything he owns one week and the next week end up married to one of the wealthiest women in the country.”
“Well, contrary to what you want to believe, all this wedding did for me was keep me off the streets. It hasn’t put any money in my pockets, and I don’t expect it to. Actually, I expect to get served with divorce papers at any minute.”
Hanna stood beside the limo and watched Henri spit-shine the last spot on the long black car. She’d asked him to drive her downtown to see Houston Couch about the will. She considered taking her Jag, but she hated trying to find parking in downtown Nashville when she had a business appointment.
She loved to go into Nashville, though. Nashville had become such a mixture of the old and the new. Once she remembered exploring Nashboro Village, a replica of Nashville’s first settlement. She had looked up and to her surprise realized she was seeing three generations of architecture in her line of vision.
She’d had her camera with her and took a picture capturing the logs of Old Nashboro, the old brick of the 19th-century buildings across the street, and, towering above them, the new BellSouth building everyone called the Batman Building because the twin peaks of its roofline evoked the helmet of the Caped Crusader. She thought that picture depicted Nashville to a T.
She hadn’t seen Matt in two days. Not since that ill-fated trip to the gazebo. She didn’t mind because she knew seeing him again would only cause her great embarrassment. She couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to act like a sex-starved woman with him.
She was beginning to regret marrying him. It would have been better to marry a real loser that she couldn’t stand. That way it wouldn’t be a problem to ignore him until time for the divorce.
That’s why she was seeing her lawyer today. Maybe Houston could find a loophole in the will, so she could get out of this marriage before she made a complete fool of herself. Many more encounters like the gazebo, and the marriage would be consummated.
But why was Matt acting like he was attracted to her? She was sure he’d had many women in the past. After all, he’d been a big rock star. So why would he possibly be attracted to her? Did he feel obligated to act like he cared, just because he married her?
It just didn’t make any sense. Unless—No. She wouldn’t even let that thought come into her mind. Unless, her subconscious persisted, unless he’s like Mother and Will and wants to act like the marriage is real just so he can get in on the inheritance!
“That’s stupid!” She said loudly, trying to mentally shake off the unwanted thought.
“Pardon?” Henri looked up, thinking she was talking to him. “I really am trying to hurry, but you said you wouldn’t be ready until nine o’clock.”
“It’s okay, Henri. I was just talking to myself,” she assured him.
She heard the roar of the engine several seconds before the big Harley-Davidson motorcycle came into view around the curve of the driveway.
The driver slowed to a stop behind the limo and proceeded to remove his helmet. Hanna couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw Matt straddling the motorcycle as if it were some wild steed.
He grinned at her open-mouthed stare and said, “Good morning, Mrs. Corbett. Like my new wheels?”
Her mind reeled. He had on a black leather jacket, and his black jeans fit so snugly she wondered how they kept from ripping as he straddled the big black bike. His hair was mussed from the helmet, and his eyes were glittering golden flecks. He looked for all the world like he belonged on a motorcycle.
And he had called her Mrs. Corbett, as if he were proud of the fact that she was. Was this part of the act? She felt as if her head would explode if she had any more unanswered questions.
Henri was scowling at Matt, daring him to stir up one single grain of dust that might mar his freshly cleaned limo, but Matt didn’t seem to notice.
“Henri, is there somewhere I can park this hawg? I know you don’t want it out here messing up the view.”
“Just put it in the garage wherever you can find a place,” Henri directed. “Are you ready Miss—Mrs. Hanna?” Henri was having a hard time remembering she was married.
“Where’re you going?” Matt asked, as if he had every right to know.
“I have an appointment at the lawyer’s office,” she said.
“Want me to take you on this?” Again Matt was grinning, almost daring her to say yes. There was a new gleam in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before. Did he get that excited about riding a motorcycle? And where did he get the money to buy a motorcycle? All his holdings had been confiscated by the IRS.
“I’ll take a rain check,” she promised, and heard Henri’s sound of distaste.
“I’m going to remind you of that. Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?” Before Hanna could answer, he continued, “Baby, you haven’t lived until you’ve ridden a bike. I can’t wait to be the first one that you do it with.”
Hanna’s face was bright red as she sat quickly in the back of the limo, and Henri closed the door. Matt’s words and teasing look seemed to carry a double meaning. Surely he couldn’t know—
Chapter 4
“Hanna, there is no loophole. I’m sorry. I can’t tamper with your grandfather’s will.
“His stipulations were, you don’t get the remainder of the inheritance until you have a child or until you’re thirty-five. Whichever comes first. But you have to remain married to qualify for either. I’m sorry to hear that you and Matt aren’t the perfect loving couple. The way he was looking at you on your wedding day sure looked like he was smitten with you.”
“Houston, you can’t be serious! That was the first day we’d seen each other, you know that.”
“Maybe so, but maybe you should give him a chance. He might just be that special man you’ve waited for.”
“Yeah, and he might just be after Grandfather’s inheritance like a lot of other people.” A touch of bitterness crept into her voice.
“Now, Hanna, don’t go getting paranoid on me. That isn’t like you. Go home. Relax for a while. Give this thing a chance to settle down. You might be surprised at the outcome.” Houston leaned back in his leather chair and laced his fingers behind his head, giving Hanna a knowing smile.
“You’re my lawyer, Houston, not my psychic, but thanks for nothing, anyway.” She picked up her purse to leave.
“I’m really sorry, Hanna. I’ll do a little more checking on this, but I think our hands are tied.”
Hanna came slowly awake. Two weeks had passed si
nce her meeting with Houston Couch. Two weeks she had spent trying to figure a way out of the marriage.
If she’d had any way of knowing the conditions of the will, she would never have gone through with the marriage, no matter how much her mother and Will badgered her. She admitted she could understand some of her grandfather’s reasoning for leaving the will as he had, but she sure wished he’d been a little more lenient with the time factor.
She hadn’t seen Matt but once in the past two weeks. He was gone when she got up, and he didn’t get home until late at night, well after she had gone to bed. Sometimes she woke up to hear his shower running, and it was always past midnight.
What was he doing when he was gone? Was he seeing another woman? What if he was married to someone else? The thought crashed through her like a bolt of lightning, leaving all her nerve endings tingling. Had anyone done a background check on him? She hadn’t even thought of it until just this minute.
Leaping from her bed, she checked the clock, then reached for the phone and dialed Houston Couch’s phone number. Just as the recorder came on, Hanna remembered it was Saturday and no one would be in the office. Resigned to have to wait until Monday for her answer, she slipped into her silk robe and headed for the dining room.
As she drew even with Matt’s door, she became aware of faint music coming from within the room. Stopping, she listened and realized Matt was singing and strumming a guitar. Engulfed with curiosity, she moved closer to the door so she could hear better.
She couldn’t make out the words, but the sound of his crooning voice transported her back to the years when she’d almost worshipped him. She leaned closer to the door, trying to hear which song he was singing. She didn’t recognize it as any she had on tape, and she knew she had everything he’d ever recorded.
Her eyes were closed in rapt concentration, so she didn’t see or hear the approaching figure until he spoke.
“And how often do you do this, ma’am?” The voice was low and teasing.
If he hadn’t stepped back, she would have knocked the coffee and Danish from his hands when she jumped.
“Don’t do that!” She yelped, leaning against the wall, faint from being so startled.
“Well, how am I supposed to get into my room?” Matt asked, still amused at catching Hanna trying to hear through his door.
“You sneaked up on me on purpose,” Hanna accused. “I’m sure you saw me when you came down the hallway. You could have made some kind of noise to let me know you were coming.” Embarrassment had turned to anger, and Hanna’s face had gone from white to crimson.
“Look, I should be the one offended. It’s my door you’re eavesdropping at. What were you trying to hear?” The amusement never left his eyes, but Hanna thought she detected a slight tightening of his jaw muscles.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I heard music coming from your room, and I thought you were playing your guitar and singing. I was just trying to recognize the song,” Hanna explained, feeling her anger start to subside.
“You know my songs?” Matt seemed surprised.
The chuckle was low in Hanna’s throat. “Yeah. I used to listen to your stuff a little.”
She didn’t dare let him know her closet was full of every tape he’d ever made, duplicated by the ones that had been remade as CD’s. She didn’t dare let him know about the life-size poster standing just inside her closet door, and that she looked at it each night before she went to bed.
Knowing she should leave, but not wanting to, Hanna lingered against the wall.
“Why are you eating in your room?” she quizzed, noticing the balancing act he was doing, trying to hold the coffee and Danish in one hand while trying to open the door with the other.
“The atmosphere is better in my room,” he said, finally turning the doorknob without any help from her. “And besides, I’m wor—I have some things I need to do.”
“Oh.” Hanna knew she was getting a brush off, so she turned and walked down the hall.
“Want to ride my bike today?” His voice stopped her.
“No, not today,” Hanna answered, without turning, and continued down the hall.
“Scared?” he taunted, causing her to turn back to him.
He leaned casually against the doorjamb and sipped his coffee. Cut-off jeans exposed the dark hair on his legs. Legs that were strong and muscular. Hanna wondered how it would feel to have those legs entwined with her soft, smooth ones. The sleeves had been torn out of his T-shirt, and the muscles in his upper arm rippled each time he lifted the coffee cup to his lips.
Naked attraction coursed through Hanna, causing her knees to feel as if they would buckle under her. Yes, she admitted to herself. She was scared, but not of the motorcycle.
“Well, are you?” he persisted. “Poor little rich girl. Never had any fun. Never took any chances. Scared of her own shadow,” he taunted.
“What time?” Hanna would show him what this poor little rich girl could do.
“Two o’clock,” Matt said, looking victorious. Toasting her with his cup, he closed the door before she could change her mind.
Back in his room, Matt snapped off the tape player. Damn. That had been close. He didn’t want her to hear the song until he had it finished. He was writing it about her, but wanted it to be a surprise the first time she heard it. If things went as he hoped, the song would be the first single off his next album.
He was putting in long hours in the studio, trying hard to get all the songs written for the album, so he hadn’t seen much of Hanna in the past couple of weeks. He was looking forward to spending time with her today.
He grinned, remembering her reaction to his baiting. Quick to respond to lovemaking and quick to get angry.
Passionate. That’s the word that summed up this woman, he concluded, becoming more anxious to explore all her reactions to life.
At exactly two o’clock Hanna came down the back stairs leading to the garage from the inside of the house. She wasn’t surprised to see Matt bending over the big bike, checking everything out.
He heard her footsteps and looked up to watch her approach.
Self consciousness made Hanna want to turn and run away. Her snug jeans and tight-fitting knit top seemed to shrink a size under his keen scrutiny. Once again she was back in the parlor with her mother making her parade around for the guests, waiting for signs of approval or disapproval on their faces.
The warm glow she saw leap to Matt’s eyes was all the approval she needed, and suddenly Hanna felt excitement building inside her. She had belonged to a motorcycle club briefly when she was in her early twenties, and had loved it. But the club had dispersed and she hadn’t ridden in several years. She’d deliberately kept this information from Matt, just so she could use it against him when the time came. She’d teach him to taunt her like she was a child.
“Ready?” he asked when she stood beside him.
“Sure,” she responded, with just the right touch of hesitancy in her voice.
Matt placed a helmet on her head, and took his time buckling the chinstrap. He studied every inch of her face as he fastened the buckle. The heat from his close body was affecting her breathing, and she willed him to hurry up before she made a fool of herself. Her eyelids felt heavy, as if they would close in preparation for the kiss she so longed for.
Startled by her thoughts, her eyes flew wide open to encounter him watching her. She felt as if he had been reading her mind, but instead of kissing her, he gently brushed his thumb across her bottom lip.
“Ready to ride?” he asked, in a voice husky with emotion. Again, Hanna wondered if his words held double meaning.
At her nod, he swung his leg over the bike and waited for her to do the same. When she was settled on the seat behind him, Matt leaned over to tell her where to rest her feet, but she already had them in position.
He cranked the bike and slowly accelerated from the garage. As he pulled out onto the highway, a shot of adrenaline electrified Hanna’s body at the
loud roar of the big bike. She loved the wild freedom she felt on a motorcycle.
Soon they were on Interstate 40. Hanna wondered where they were going, but was determined not to ask, since Matt seemed bent on showing her how much she had missed in life. She didn’t have to wait long before she recognized the exit he took and knew he was headed for Percy Priest Lake. He didn’t stop until he reached the dam.
“Want to walk around on the rocks?” he asked, taking off his helmet, then reaching to unsnap hers.
Nodding in agreement, she reached to remove the helmet, but Matt was already in the process of lifting it off of her head. She raised her hands to fluff her hair, but his large hands caught her wrists and lowered her arms to her side. Then, putting a hand on each side of her head, he gently lifted her hair and held it out so the breeze could catch it and fluff it.
“I’ve wanted to do that ever since I saw your picture in the paper announcing your wedding. It feels as soft and smells as good as I knew it would. It’s beautiful.” His fingers combed gently through the matted curls.
“My picture?” Hanna asked, surprised. “You saw my picture before you married me?”
“Yes. I was having coffee at a small coffee shop and wondering why Will wanted me to agree to marry his sister sight unseen, when my eyes fell on the paper and I caught sight of this beautiful goddess. The woman in the picture took my breath away, and I was making mental plans to call her. I had in mind to see if she would have an affair with me after I was married, because at the time I thought my bride might look like Frankenstein’s mother. Then I read your name, and realized the beautiful goddess in the picture was going to be my wife, and my life took on a whole new meaning. But I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out why Will didn’t want me to see you. I kept wondering if there was something weird about you. Then you explained it to me. I still think your brother is a fool.”
