“Mother,” he growled, “you’re trying to set me up.”
She stood, and picked up her handbag. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Must dash,” she said, leaning to kiss his cheek.
She took three steps before she remembered to limp. Matt shook his head and showed her out.
Later that night, Susannah opened her bedroom door to a light knock, to find Matt lounging in the doorway, one arm behind his back and a sexy grin on his face. His closely cropped hair was damp. Seemed he’d showered then pulled on a polo shirt and loose trousers afterward. Her entire body tingled with anticipation. How would she ever leave this man when the time came?
“Evening,” he said, then drew her against him with one arm, capturing her mouth with the ease of a predator assured of his prey. She fell into the kiss with no regard for anything but tasting his essence, of dissolving into him. His lips were so warm, exerting just the right pressure. She gripped the front of his shirt as her knees wobbled. Reality ceased to exist—she was in a blissful place outside time and space that she only found with Matthew.
After an eternity, he slowly drew back, chest heaving, pupils large in his luminescent green eyes. He held up a bottle of wine and two sparkling glasses. “Fancy a nightcap?”
Still gripping his shirt, she attempted to reorient herself to her surroundings. To breathing. She released him then opened the door wider to let him through. “Let’s start with that.”
He poured a glass each then sprawled on her bed. Propped on one elbow, he looked far too comfortable and desirable. She took a memory picture to keep with her after she left Charleston that could sustain her in what she suspected would be long, lonely nights without him.
“My mother guessed there’s something between us,” he said with a rueful smile.
Her hand flew to her mouth. She’d thought they’d been careful. “Oh, I’m sorry, Matthew.”
“She won’t tell anyone.” He held out a hand and when she took it, he dragged her down to sit on the bed with him. “And she still thinks you’re just one of Grace’s friends.”
Grace. Her stomach lurched. In this family, with this man, everything always came back to Grace. It always would, which—she straightened her back—was just how it should be. Her sensitivity to being sidelined shouldn’t affect how Matthew and his family operated. She was temporary—soon, she’d be returning to the life waiting for her in Georgia, her mother, her friends and a senior position at the bank.
“She left two tickets for a fundraiser on Sunday,” Matthew said, pulling one of her feet onto his lap. “I need to go for work—I’m targeting a new account. Do you want to come?”
The magic his fingers were producing on the soles of her feet momentarily distracted her, which was dangerous. If she wasn’t on her guard, she might actually agree to go.
“Where is it?” she asked, stalling for time.
He reached for her other foot and began to give it the same attention as the first. “At the Barclays’ mansion on one of the islands of the Outer Banks.”
She wrapped one arm around herself and sipped her wine. When she’d been a teenager, her grandparents had often taken her to society parties and elite fundraising events, and she’d hated each and every one of them. The feeling of not quite belonging, of being an impostor wearing a pretty dress and pretending to be as cultured and sophisticated as the other guests. She wouldn’t return to that world. It was soul-destroying.
She shrugged apologetically and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I haven’t brought anything with me I could possibly wear to an event like that.”
“Not a problem,” he said without missing a beat. “I’ll buy you something.”
Her skin cooled. Pulling her feet from his lap, she turned to face him. “You can’t buy me a dress, Matthew.” It would be far too…bizarre. Inappropriate. If he bought her things while she was having a physical relationship with him, she’d start to feel like a kept woman. Matthew’s father had kept a woman on the side, as had many of her grandfather’s friends. People from that world—Matthew’s world—thought differently about people and relationships.
“I need someone to go with me,” Matthew said. “These things are always attended in couples. If you’ll come, I’ll cover your expenses.”
Put like that, it sounded reasonable. Yet there was resistance to the idea deep in her chest. Having a temporary physical relationship with Matthew while staying in Charleston was one thing, but becoming entangled in his world of wealth and privilege…it scared her.
She tucked her legs beneath her and tried again. “I’m already living in your house, eating—”
“Susannah,” he said, cutting her off, “you came to Charleston to do Flynn and me a favor. You’ve stayed on because we asked you to, again as a favor. And now I’m asking if you’ll help me out by attending a fundraising event as my guest. You’ve done nothing but give since you got here. At the very least, let me buy you a dress to wear while you’re doing one of those favors.”
Oh, sweet Lord, he knew how to get what he wanted. I’m asking if you’ll help me out by attending a fundraising event as my guest. How could she say no to such a small favor?
She let out a long breath. “It doesn’t feel right.” Attending the event or letting him buy the dress.
“But you’ll do it.” His confident, devastating smile spread across his face and she was lost.
“Okay,” she said, and hoped she wouldn’t regret this.
Eight
Matt stepped into the exclusive boutique, his hand at Susannah’s waist ensuring she entered with him, even if it was reluctantly. Flynn was spending the day with his grandmother and Pamela so Matt could have a full day at TKG, and he’d slipped out to meet Susannah here during his lunch hour.
He was determined she would have something perfect, that she liked, and he had a feeling that if he left her alone, she’d prioritize economy over those factors. He’d never met a woman so determined not to be given anything.
His personal assistant was in her sixties and always wore the same severe outfits, so he’d gone to RJ’s assistant this morning for advice on the best store to take Susannah. Brooke had been excellent, giving him choices and not once asking the obvious question of why he’d want the name of a women’s clothing store—the precise reason he hadn’t asked any of his sisters. He knew Brooke could be discreet.
The saleswoman glided over and gave them a welcoming smile. “How may I help?”
He moved Susannah infinitesimally forward with a hand at her back. “We’d like a cocktail gown. It’s for an elite gathering, so quality is paramount.”
He felt Susannah’s invisible flinch at his not so subtle message about money being no object, but he was unrepentant. She deserved the best the store had to offer.
“Of course, sir,” the saleswoman said. “If ma’am would follow me?”
As the other woman moved away, Susannah leaned over and whispered, “I still don’t like this. I can buy my own dress.”
“We’ve discussed this. I’ll be happier if I buy it.”
She shot him a resigned look before following the sales assistant deeper into the store.
In fact, there was something immensely satisfying in being able to give her this. Perhaps it was in his DNA—providing for his lover. Perhaps it was marking her as his own with expensive fabrics. Or perhaps it was as simple as wanting to give something back after all she’d given him and his son, to bring her joy.
The saleswoman reappeared and showed Matt to an upholstered chair with a good view of the curtain screening the generously sized change room where Susannah had apparently gone.
Within minutes, she tentatively stepped out, wearing a figure-hugging royal-blue dress that flared from her knees. His brain froze, and all he could do was stare—and hope he wasn’t making a fool of himself. The color made her blue eyes bluer, highlighted her porcelain skin and the shape drew attention to each curve, making him wish they were home and he could explore them himself.
“I usually choose much simpler designs,” she said. “But the saleswoman was fairly insistent about this one.”
He cleared his throat before he could speak. “It’s stunning.”
She gave him an appreciative smile then slipped behind the curtain again. While she was gone, he tried to regulate his breathing. Who knew shopping for women’s clothes would be this dangerous to his health?
A few minutes later she emerged in an oriental red sheath with a mandarin collar. Cut into the fabric was a large teardrop shape that exposed the top of her cleavage. He restrained a groan.
“Not that one,” he rasped. There was no way he wanted other men seeing her in that dress. They’d be imagining her out of it. The way he was right now.
“Yes, I don’t think red is my color,” she said, surveying it in the mirror.
“Sweetheart, if red was any more your color, I’d have to pick myself up off the floor. I only meant it might be too sexy for the Barclays’ fundraiser.”
She looked down at the hole over most of her décolletage and grinned. “You’re probably right.”
She disappeared and returned in a floating dress that had an overlay of sheer blush pink fabric. The bodice was fitted, then it fell in soft drapes to below her knees. It was pure Susannah. Fresh and free and feminine. Sweet, yet sexy as all hell.
She turned in front of the mirror, looking at it from all angles and he watched her, heart thundering as if it would explode. If he’d wanted her before, seeing her in a different environment, in these clothes, the need was more than anything he’d ever experienced.
Her gaze flicked to his in the mirror, and he could see she was surprised by the dress, liked it.
“That’s the one,” he said.
She arched an eyebrow. “Do I get some say?”
“Of course,” he said, knowing he was calling her bluff. “Do you like it?”
“Why, yes, I do,” she said with an overly innocent smile. “Thank you for asking.”
She twisted to find the price tag, but he leaped to his feet and clasped her hand before she could read it. “Don’t look. Just let me buy it for you.”
Their gazes held and he could feel the battle she waged inside herself. It had been momentous for her to accept him buying the dress in the first place, he knew that. She was obviously more used to giving than receiving. But to not even know the amount she’d be indebted to him for would take a leap of faith.
Finally she nodded, and he felt a surge of masculine satisfaction.
Once they’d told the saleswoman of their decision and he’d paid, they were back out on the pavement, the dress wrapped in tissue paper and in a bag that was looped around his fingers.
“Is there anything else you need?” He knew accessories were important, but wasn’t sure on the details. Matching shoes, perhaps?
“A gelato,” she said with certainty.
As the words registered, he did a double take. This woman never stopped surprising him. He tried—but failed—to keep a grin from emerging. “You need a gelato?”
“There’s a store on the next block that sells the best in the state.” Her face lit with enthusiasm, which was undeniably infectious. “Let me buy you one.”
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone out for gelato. It seemed too whimsical a thing to do. There was a container of strawberry ice cream in the freezer at home for Flynn, but it wasn’t something he would take a serving of for himself.
However, he recognized the nature of her offer—accepting his purchase of the dress had been uncomfortable, and she was trying to reestablish the balance by giving him something back. It might be only a small gift in return, but the spirit of the exchange would allow her to retain some dignity.
He took her hand and interlaced their fingers. “A gelato would be good.”
She smiled broadly and led the way. As they walked down the street, hand in hand, an odd feeling crept over him—the people passing by would think he and Susannah were a couple. In a proper relationship. And, stranger still, he didn’t mind the feeling. He hadn’t been on the lookout for someone new in his life, but he rather liked the feeling of having a gorgeous woman by his side.
Susannah herself was only here temporarily, and besides, he had a feeling that when she entered a long-term relationship, she’d want it all—love and marriage. Neither of which he would ever offer a woman again. Been there, done that, paid the price. Dealing with falling out of love with his wife, the mother of his child, had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. The pain as he and Grace had sorted through the wreckage of their marriage wasn’t something he’d ever let be repeated.
But maybe at some point in the future, he should consider a longer term relationship. Obviously he’d keep it separate from Flynn—the last thing that kid needed was a procession of Matt’s girlfriends to attach to then lose. Yet he couldn’t help but remember Susannah’s comment over breakfast her first morning in his house.
You can’t live just for your work and Flynn. You have needs, too, Matthew.
Maybe after things settled down with The Kincaid Group and Flynn was one hundred percent better, he’d think about finding someone amenable to a quiet, part-time relationship.
“There it is,” Susannah said, pointing to a storefront with a bright yellow-and-white striped awning. “Have you been here before?”
“Can’t remember it.” He looked at the people casually ordering inside. “Then again, I’m not sure I’ve lined up for ice cream since I was a kid.” Until Susannah had converted him to desserts, he’d been more of a cheese-platter guy. Now he was about to eat a serving of sugar in the middle of the day.
A young man with a white paper hat sauntered down to their end of the counter. “What can I get you folks?”
“We’ll need to try a couple of samples first,” Susannah said. “It’s my friend’s first time.”
“No problem.” He reached for a cup of small plastic spoons. “Which ones?”
Susannah turned and looked up at him expectantly. Matt dug his hands into his pockets and surveyed the variety of flavors—everything from tiramisu to mango. While he read the labels, he indicated that Susannah should go ahead and order, so she asked for a double serving of pink grapefruit, no cone.
“I’ll try the grapefruit,” Matt said to the young guy, who then scooped a small spoon into the pale pink ice confection and handed it over the counter.
It touched his taste buds with an explosion of flavor—sharp tang and sweet simultaneously. The effect woke up every cell in his body. “I’ll have that one,” he said.
Susannah laid a delicate hand on his forearm. “You can’t have the first one you taste, Matthew. Try another couple first.”
He’d always adhered to the principle that you took what you wanted, but this was Susannah’s excursion so he deferred to her plan. “The passion fruit and the amaretto.”
The guy behind the counter handed him two more spoons. Both were good, but neither had the startling effect of the first one.
“A double serving of the grapefruit in a cup,” he said.
They took their gelato and Matt looked around at the tables. “Inside or outside?” he asked.
“Outside,” she said without hesitation. “It’s gloriously warm for February and I don’t want to waste it.”
He held the door open for her, remembering the day she’d wanted to eat breakfast in the courtyard. And how she’d looked like a goddess with her face turned to the early morning sun. He’d been spellbound.
“You really like being outside, don’t you?”
They found an empty picnic-style table on the paved area to the side of the store and sat down. A spoon loaded with pink gelato disappeared into her mouth, and then emerged empty from between closed lips. He waited while she swallowed, feeling his blood begin to heat.
A dreamy expression filled her eyes. “Sunshine and breeze, Matthew. You can’t beat them.”
“You know,” he said without thinking, “that’s a goo
d way to describe you.”
She paused with the spoon halfway to her mouth and an adorable line appeared between her brows. “What is?”
“You’ve swept into my life like a fresh breeze. And wherever you are, it’s like there’s sunshine.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he felt stupid and wanted to snatch them back. Spouting bad lines of pseudopoetry? RJ would laugh his head off.
But Susannah simply smiled. “Thank you, that’s a lovely thing to say.”
She took another spoonful of gelato and he followed suit, watching her as he ate. There was something about Susannah that sparkled from within, made him want to understand as much as he could about what made her tick.
“Will you tell me something personal if I ask?”
“Depends.” She smiled, tucking a pale silken strand of hair behind her ears. “Why not try me?”
“Was it as easy to give up Flynn in reality as you’ve said?” Since Flynn’s health scare, when a little devil had been on Matt’s shoulder, taunting him with the possibility of losing his son, he’d wondered about Susannah’s act of giving Flynn to him in the first place. “I just can’t imagine handing him to someone.”
Absently she stirred the gelato in her cup. “It was nothing like what you’d go through now if you lost him,” she said quietly, bringing her gaze back to him. “I knew from the start what I was doing. In my mind, I always thought of him as your baby. Yours and Grace’s.”
He sat back in his seat as she ate more of her gelato. That sounded reasonable in theory, but putting it into practice was surely a different story. “You never thought about changing your mind?”
“If you and Grace had changed your minds—” she paused, as if choosing her words carefully “—and said I could have kept him, I would have been over the moon. But he was your baby from the start, so I didn’t dream of a future with him.”
“You’re amazing,” he said and meant it. Susannah Parrish possessed the most unselfish heart he’d come across.
She stared down at her paper cup for long moments and when she looked up at him again, her eyes glistened. “When I was sixteen, I lost a baby.”
What Happens in Charleston... Page 10
