Past Passion

by Penny Jordan

  By the time they reached the conference hotel she was praying that the weekend would be just as busy as Matt had warned her it was likely to be, so that hopefully it would be impossible for her to do anything other than to concentrate on what was going on.

  The intimacy of the car journey had weakened her both physically and emotionally to the point where when she eventually got out of the car she barely had the strength left to stand up.

  Intent only on trying to control what she was feeling, she was totally unaware of Matt coming towards her until she felt his arm round her.

  ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ he asked her in a low voice.

  Hideously conscious of how much she was trembling, not daring to look up at him in case he read the truth in her eyes, Nicola somehow managed to nod her head and mumbled untruthfully, ‘It’s just a bit of travel sickness. I’ll be fine in a moment.’

  She could see that Matt was frowning as he looked at her, and her heart sank. What on earth must he be thinking? No doubt regretting that he had ever suggested she attended this conference. She was hardly presenting an image of businesslike efficiency, was she?

  Her fears were confirmed when Matt hesitated and said quietly, ‘Look if you’re not feeling well—’

  ‘I’ll be fine, honestly,’ she assured him, starting to walk towards the hotel’s main entrance, praying that she would find the resolve from somewhere to put her own personal feelings under control and to remember why she was here.

  The foyer of the hotel was thronged with people attending the conference, the heat and noise which struck her as she walked in making Nicola blink and stand back a little. She had forgotten, working in her country environment, just how overwhelming and intimidating large crowds could be.

  As she hesitated, she felt Matt’s hand on her arm, his presence behind her, reassuring her at the same time as it scalded her with the heat of her own physical response to him.

  ‘Wait here,’ he instructed her. ‘I’ll check us in and collect our room keys, and then we’d better head straight for the conference hall.’

  She ought to have been the one doing that, Nicola acknowledged as she watched Matt stride over to the desk. It was almost like watching the Red Sea part, seeing the way the swarming crowd seemed to part as though by magic to let him through.

  And, once he had reached the desk, busy though it was, a receptionist miraculously appeared to deal with him.

  Watching the way the receptionist smiled up at him, Nicola felt her stomach knot with jealousy.

  She turned her head away, telling herself that her behaviour was ridiculous, wishing with all her heart that things had not gone wrong and that she was here with Tim and not with Matt. There was, she was discovering, far more bitterness than sweetness in being with him, far more pain than pleasure.

  ‘Your key...’

  She saw Matt making his way back to her, and took the key he gave her. Behind her someone in the crowd jostled her, throwing her off balance a little. She stepped forward automatically, closing the small space between Matt and herself, tensing as she felt him reach out to steady her, his fingers closing round her upper arm, the warmth of his breath burning her skin. She saw that he was frowning as he looked beyond her.

  ‘This place is a madhouse. Let’s head for the conference room.’ He looked at his watch, his hand still holding her. ‘It’s time we were there anyway.’

  As they started to make their way through the crowd, Nicola expected Matt to release her, but he didn’t, and she was burningly conscious of his hand on her arm, his presence at her side as he guided her across the crowded foyer.

  As they approached the conference area proper, they were stopped and handed folders of information and name-tags, before proceeding into the large room, where waitresses were beginning to serve a buffet lunch.

  Almost as soon as they were inside the room, Matt was hailed by another man. Expecting him to release her, Nicola started to move away from him, but to her astonishment he didn’t let her go.

  ‘This is Nicola Linton, one of my staff,’ he introduced her to the other man, who was apparently a civil engineer.

  Very quickly the two men were deep in conversation, but Nicola noticed that Matt was courteously insistent on including her in their discussion, which was mainly about how the new emphasis on environmental issues was going to affect the future of the civil engineering industry.

  After that it seemed to Nicola that she barely had time to draw breath, so frantic and busy did the pace become, as Matt had predicted.

  It was just gone six o’clock when the final meeting of the day eventually broke up and they were free to seek out their rooms.

  ‘Dinner tonight will be a fairly formal affair,’ Matt warned her as they waited for the lift to take them to their rooms. ‘I suggest we meet in the cocktail bar beforehand, say at about seven-thirty?’

  Tiredly Nicola nodded her head.

  There were a hundred notes she wanted to make, a hundred things she had learnt that had relevance to her own work...things she was sure she would never be able to remember if she didn’t make a note of them; and it would probably take her half an hour to shower and get changed ready for dinner.

  In addition to that, the air-conditioned atmosphere of the conference centre had made her long for some proper fresh air. What she really needed was a good long walk, she reflected wistfully as the lift came and they got in.

  * * *

  AN HOUR LATER, when her watch beeped warningly, Nicola switched off the small tape recorder, frowning a little as she did so. If the rest of the conference centre was all hurly-burly and business, then at least her room was a haven of peace and calm. She frowned again as she looked around it. She had been rather surprised by the luxury of the room she had been given. It had obviously been very recently decorated, in soft yellows defined by much deeper blues. From her window she could see out over the grounds, the room itself was furnished with good quality reproduction furniture, and her adjoining bathroom, like the bedroom itself, had quite obviously been refurbished.

  She had noticed that, although the lift had been packed, she and Matt had been the only two people getting out on their floor. They were, she suspected, occupying rooms of a far better standard than would normally have been expected of someone attending a working conference. Was this yet another indication of Matt’s generosity and concern for his employees?

  She moved away from the window, reluctantly acknowledging that she ought to be getting changed. A small, mirthless smile twisted her lips as she recognised how little she was looking forward to the coming evening. An evening spent in Matt’s company...in the company of the man she loved. Her mouth twisted even more bitterly. In theory, perhaps, a wonderful prospect, but in reality the evening was just another business meeting as far as Matt was concerned, while for her...

  She took a deep breath, her eyes blinded by a sudden rush of tears.

  For her the evening would be several more hours of trauma and misery, during which she would have to fight to conceal her feelings...her misery... her love...

  If only Tim hadn’t had that accident. If only Matt hadn’t had to take his place.

  She put away the recorder and went into the bathroom, quickly turning on the shower.

  Half an hour later she stood in front of her bedroom mirror studying her reflection. She was wearing the navy dress and, if her face looked a little too pale, well, that would simply bear out her earlier fib that she had been feeling car sick. Provided she managed to avoid allowing Matt to look directly into her eyes, she might just be able to get away with pretending that it was a physical disorder that was making her look so pale.

  She had washed her hair and blow-dried it, and now there was nothing left for her to do but to go downstairs to the cocktail bar and meet Matt.

  As she locked her bedroom door, she found herself praying that she would get through the evening without saying or doing anything to alert Matt to what was really wrong with her.

  It w
as just after twenty-five to eight when she walked into the crowded cocktail bar. It took her eyes several seconds to adjust to the gloom and her ears even longer to adjust to the noise.

  Unaware of the interested glances she was receiving from several groups of men, she stood where she was until she could get her bearings.

  When she saw how glamorously some of the other women were dressed, she was glad that her mother had warned her to pack something a little more dressy than her business suits. As she looked around the room she suddenly saw Matt. He was standing several yards away talking to a very tall, very soignée brunette. She was talking earnestly to him and, when she suddenly reached out to place her hand on his arm in emphasis of whatever she was saying, the feeling that pierced Nicola left her feeling sick and dizzy.

  She hated what was happening to her, hated what she was feeling, hated the feeling of being totally out of control. The room suddenly seemed oppressively hot, she felt hemmed in, trapped, panic clawed at her. She turned away, blindingly, wanting to escape but, before she could move, she heard Matt saying her name.

  She forced herself to turn her head, her lips curving into a meaningless, stiff smile, but, when she looked, Matt was on his own and the brunette seemed to have disappeared.

  ‘What would you like to drink?’ Matt asked her.

  She tried to clear her head, to separate herself from the emotions churning inside her.

  ‘Mineral water, please,’ she responded tensely.

  ‘I expect we’ll be sharing a table with some of the other delegates,’ she heard Matt telling her as he gave their order to a waiter. ‘That’s the normal format at these affairs unless you’re in a large enough group to occupy a full table. It’s one way of getting people to mingle. What were your impressions of this afternoon, or is it too soon for you to judge?’

  Nicola took a deep breath, thankful to have something on which to focus her attention, something to distract herself from the burden of her awareness of Matt the man, rather than Matt the employer.

  Once she started talking about the conference, Matt kept the ball rolling, making several succinct points about what she had learnt, and gradually she felt a little of her tension starting to slip away from her.

  If it could just be like this for the rest of the weekend; if she could just force herself to focus on business instead of letting her emotions get the upper hand, she might have some chance of preserving her sanity and concealing the truth from Matt. That would be the final humiliation, if he should guess how she felt.

  By the time they went into dinner she was almost beginning to relax a little, although she tensed up again when Matt put his hand beneath her elbow—a polite gesture, and one which she knew had been made to her by any number of men in the past, but none of them had had the effect on her that Matt had. She knew he must have felt the jolt of tension that went through her as he touched her. She saw the way he frowned down at her when she immediately tried to step back from him, and then realised that the crush of people heading for the dining-room made that impossible.

  In fact, probably because of her lack of height, she actually discovered she was being carried forwards and almost pushed off her feet.

  As she stumbled a little, Matt reached for her, pulling her into the protection of his own body. It was a protective, non-sexual gesture he would no doubt have made to any woman in the same situation, but its effect on Nicola was devastating. She literally went weak at the knees, a deep, wrenching shudder vibrating through her so that she clutched automatically at his arm for support before she realised exactly what she was doing. When she did realise, she tried to draw back, but it was too late. Matt’s free arm was firmly around her, holding her so close to him that she could feel the heat of his body, and the heavy, slightly unsteady thump of his heartbeat.

  When she tried to move, Matt said tersely to her, ‘Let’s just wait a few seconds and let the first crush get past us.’

  He seemed to be murmuring the words right into her ear, the sensation of his warm breath against that delicate orifice causing such a welter of sensations inside her that she could hardly control her reaction to them. Beneath the fine silk of her dress she felt her breasts swell and lift, her nipples tightening, a corresponding tiny, pulsing ache beginning deep within her body, coupled with an overwhelming desire to let herself relax against him, to press herself even closer to him, to touch her lips to his throat, his jaw, his mouth...

  She had to swallow hard on the small, anguished whimper that scaled the back of her throat. Guilt and self-disgust twisted through her stomach. She found she could hardly breathe, and knew that her pulse-rate must be wildly out of control, but she dared not move, could not move until she felt Matt step back from her slightly, relaxing the protecting guard of his arm as he told her,

  ‘I think we can go in now.’

  Not daring to look at him, she fell into step beside him, only half able to concentrate on what he was saying...something about not really understanding the crowd’s eagerness to eat a meal which experience must have warned them would be adequate rather than enticing.

  They were the last to arrive at their particular table, and Nicola’s heart sank as she realised that she was the only woman on it.

  The other men were obviously all enjoying themselves, to judge by the male laughter coming from the table as they approached it.

  Even though she told herself that she was being an idiot, and an old-fashioned one at that, Nicola found that she was glad of Matt’s protective bulk, as he pulled out her chair for her so that she could sit down.

  The silence that followed their arrival, as the men turned to look at her, was very unnerving, but nothing prepared her for the shock she received when, as Matt sat down next to her, she heard someone drawling unpleasantly,

  ‘Well, well, of all the coincidences. So you two are together again, are you? Permanently, or is it just another one-night stand? I seem to recollect that Nicola here excels at those...’

  Jonathon...Jonathon Hendry here...and what was more he had recognised both of them! Nicola could hardly believe it. She was conscious of a return of her earlier nausea, combined with an even more intense need to escape—not just from the avid curiosity she could see in all those pairs of male eyes, not even from Jonathon, and his malice, but far, far more important, from Matt himself.

  Whenever she had tortured herself with visualising the scene where she had been confronted with the past, she had never imagined anything like this...never dreamed that it would be Jonathon who would denounce her.

  She was barely conscious of pushing her chair back and standing up. Matt saying her name was a distant perception, a pin-prick of awareness in a vast sea of drowning humiliation from which she had to escape.

  There were still diners straggling into the dining-room. She bumped into several of them in her haste to escape, unaware of the looks of curiosity and concern that followed her unsteady flight.

  At the table she had just left Matt stood up, watching her. He was just about to follow her, when Jonathon stood up as well, apologising insincerely.

  ‘Sorry about that, old man. Didn’t realise I was putting my foot in it.’

  He froze as Matt turned his head and looked at him.

  ‘I’ve never liked you, Hendry. That’s why I ceased doing business with your firm,’ Matt told him levelly. ‘I don’t consider myself to be a violent man, in fact, normally I find physical violence despicable. Don’t tempt me to change my mind, will you?’

  The other men at the table were shuffling uncomfortably in their seats. It was quite obvious to them who would be the victor in any kind of combat between them, whether verbal, mental or physical. Matt watched as Jonathon’s face turned puce. He moved swiftly from one foot to the other and started to bluster.

  ‘It was just a joke, old man... Didn’t mean anything. After all, she hardly kept it a secret that she’d spent the night with you, did she? It was obvious from the state she was in when she came to work the next day what had
happened. Must say I was surprised... Quite the little prude, she made herself out to be, and then goes off with you right in the middle of my father’s birthday do! Surprised to see you’re still together, though. After all, a man doesn’t—’

  ‘I think you’ve said enough,’ Matt interrupted him acidly. Then he added contemptuously, ‘I’m sure you gentlemen will understand if I don’t join you for dinner... I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.’

  As he walked away from the table, he was frowning. Nicola was that girl from all those years ago...that tiny, immature little girl who had so carelessly and so dangerously—so desperately, almost—flirted with him and then...

  Strolling through the foyer, he remembered how tempted he had been by her even then, how hard he had had to fight to stop himself from mindlessly and dangerously giving in to the desire she had aroused in him, not just for his sake but for hers, too. She had still been a baby, really, for all that atrocious make-up and that wild mass of hair.

  He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked back down the years. She had recognised him, of course, even if he had not recognised her, and to judge from her reaction to Jonathon’s gibe... He looked thoughtfully across the foyer, his frown deepening as he remembered how at the time he had intended to talk to her as though she were one of his younger sisters, to warn her of the danger she was running—but he had been due to leave for the States, and then there had been the complication of the unexpected surge of desire for her.

  He turned round and walked back to the reception desk. The girl behind it looked at him a little uncertainly as he made his request, but then, after a moment’s consideration, she handed him what he had asked for.