Then, as if there was telepathic communication between them, he turned to where Trisha stood. Despite the hundreds of people around them, their eyes locked. He stopped smiling as soon as Trisha stared back, trying her hardest to keep a stoic expression on her face. But her heart pounded. Oh, how it pounded.
Matt looked breathtakingly handsome. Was that even legal? she thought wryly. How could anyone look that good?
She swiftly turned her head and pretended to scan the room. She was actually counting in her head. As soon as she counted up to twenty, Trisha gazed towards Matt’s direction. To her amazement, he was still staring at her.
You got it bad alright, Trisha, she told herself. Usher knew the words to this night.
She continued to walk up the stairs, her cheeks were feeling very warm. Trisha reached the second level when she felt a strong hand land on her waist. She turned around and was greeted with the sight of Matt’s tantalizing green eyes just inches from her face. They had always been the most beautiful eyes she ever saw, and she realized time hadn’t changed her opinion on the matter.
“Hey.” She couldn’t mutter anything else.
He came closer to her and whispered, “Come with me.”
Without waiting for her to respond, Matt led her by the arm, almost abruptly, and guided her to a door that opened up to an outdoor patio with a lush garden. As soon as they stepped out to greet the evening, Trisha inhaled fresh air. It was a huge relief compared to the stuffiness and cigarette smoke inside the club.
“Are you looking for Marcus?” Matt eyed her.
“Oh yeah, do you know where he is?” She kept her voice calm, but her emotions were anything but.
Matt smiled, his eyes boring into hers. “He told me to keep you company. My brother’s engaged at the moment.”
“Engaged?” She cocked her head.
“Yes, that’s quite right.” Matt took two glasses of wine from a waiter and handed a glass to her. He took a sip of his drink while Trisha scanned the patio. It was decorated in a Moroccan style. She felt like he just whisked her to an exotic vacation. With plush chairs and a champagne bar in the middle, it was the type of place that expertly provided an escape from the bustle of London.
“This is quite nice,” she said admiringly. “Branson did hire an amazing architect.” She was speaking about the billionaire who owned the posh club. Trisha knew his children from school.
Matt removed his gaze from her face, taking in the view of the night sky. “I agree, quite beautiful.” As soon as he said the words, his eyes returned to scan her face. She felt nervous under such scrutiny, but she couldn’t lie to herself. Trisha saw admiration in the depths of his eyes.
She walked towards one of the lounge chairs and sat, feigning nonchalance. “Look, you can go back to your friends. I don’t need a babysitter, I’m completely capable of enjoying myself.”
“Are you saying you’re not enjoying my company?” He sat on the chair in front of her, his long legs stretched out languidly.
“No, I didn’t say that. I just don’t want to be a nuisance.”
He grinned at her. “You’re not a nuisance, Trish.”
She shrugged. “Fine, a distraction then.”
His reply caught her off guard. “A very much welcome distraction.”
Pleasurable tingles shot up her spine but she chose to roll her eyes. “You have loads of pretty girls waiting for you inside the club.”
“But what if the only one I wanted to dance with is out here?”
“You can’t possibly mean that.”
Matt drank wine while his eyes drank the picture her figure presented. Trisha experienced a surge of self conscious emotions.
“Well, Trisha Valentine, you’ll be surprised to know there are plenty of other things you don’t know about me.”
“You dance?” she asked, tasting the red. It was bold and delicious, just like the man in front of her.
Matt laughed. “Yes, is it impossible to believe I do? I’ve studied the waltz, salsa, some Brazilian dancing when I went to visit South America.” That piqued her curiosity.
Trisha leaned back, happy to discover the music playing in the patio was entirely different from the tunes blaring inside the club. Smooth jazz music tickled her ears and, despite Matt’s unsettling presence, she was beginning to feel relaxed.
They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, their eyes taking in the stars twinkling above. Then, a new song began to play, Trisha recognized it as the classic ‘Unforgettable’. Matt, to her surprise, stood up and held out a hand for her. She surveyed his tall frame towering over her chair, his jade-green eyes were beyond mesmerizing, almost enchanting her to do his bidding. She put her hand in his and stood up.
They found themselves in a corner of the gardens far away from the crowd, away from prying eyes, making their space feel more intimate. Matt placed a hand on the small of her back, gently pulling her closer to him. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. They started dancing slowly to the music, swaying left and right sleepily, like silken waves crashing on a golden shore.
His lips were next to her face, his breath warm on her hair. He was softly humming along to the timeless tune. “Unforgettable, that’s what you are. Like the song of love that clings to me.”
And he held her tighter, intimately and unabashedly, bringing a blush to her face as fears and nervousness faded next to the strength of his embrace. She had dreamt of this moment for years. It was everything she imagined it would be to have Matt hold her, heaven was in his arms.
The smell of his freshly shaven face, a masculine scent that reminded her of the crisp Sorrento air with a hint of clean leather, was intoxicating. Everything about him smelled wonderful. He danced with her to the rhythm of their beating hearts. She couldn’t tell where his body ended and hers began. As he swayed her ever so tenderly, the world disappeared around them.
Trisha looked up, hungry to take in his face, the face that filled her dreams. He was gazing back at her, making her feel like no one else mattered in his heart, no one else but her.
Is this real? Am I just dreaming? she thought. Because I really, really don’t want to wake up.
His eyes moved from her eyes to her lips, lips that parted on their own free will, inviting him to taste her mouth, promising--without any words--that she was all he ever needed. He clearly believed in the promise for he moved his face closer for a kiss. Then, just like that, their lips collided, two entities transforming into one. He kissed her softly, gently, but with hunger.
He couldn’t get enough of her, she felt. He tasted her lower lip as she responded with the same eagerness, the same drive was drawing them closer to each other, like two beings in a vast universe who found their way home in each other’s embrace. They were taking their time, savouring the kiss. He tasted of sweet wine and the intimacy in his kiss was intoxicating.
Their passionate moment was quickly dissipated by loud, angry voices. They pulled apart as the sounds of what seemed like a couple arguing echoed from their right. Trisha could make out male and female voices. She realized with a mixture of fascination and embarrassment that the voices belonged to Cristina and Marcus.
“Cristina, really, I already told you,” they heard the younger Warwick plead.
“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Cristina hissed.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Marcus replied, his tone equally dangerous.
The angry couple saw they weren’t alone. They turned in unison to stare at Matt and Trisha. Matt’s arms were still around her. Trisha didn’t know what to say or do. Without warning, Marcus smiled, relief flooded his face. He stepped over towards them, his feet skittering.
“Thanks, older brother. Thanks for keeping my girl company.” Marcus then hugged a very shocked Trisha. She involuntarily pulled away from Matt as Marcus gave her a tight hug.
Matt’s eyes were flashing with white hot rage. “Next time, Marcus, handle your affairs own affairs!”
“Tris
ha,” Cristina was almost screaming. “I thought you were my friend, you tart!”
Before Trisha could utter a reply, she felt a splash of cold liquid on her face. Cristina had poured a glass of very expensive champagne on her. The bubbly fluid trickled down Trisha’s white dress.
Like a ghastly dream, Trisha simply stood there with her mouth open. She was beyond shocked at that point. The brothers looked equally alarmed.
Matt was first to speak, yet it came out more like a bellow. “Don’t ever do that to her again, do you hear me?”
Without a word, Cristina turned around and left. The expression on the Spanish girl’s face was anything but apologetic or surprised. Cristina was undoubtedly furious.
None of the brothers went after her. Matt turned to face Marcus who had his arm around Trisha’s shoulders, confusion written all over the older Warwick’s face.
Marcus rubbed Trisha’s back. “I’m so sorry. I really am.”
Tears threatened to spill on Trisha’s champagne-soaked face. She was still too bewildered to speak. A look of concern passed across Matt’s eyes, but it was for only a brief moment. His gaze turned cold, blazing like the purest emeralds. He then turned around and walked away.
*****
Present Day:
A knock on the door disrupted her reverie. Trisha checked the clock on her office wall. It reported eight o’clock. As far as she knew, she was the only employee left in the building.
“Come in.”
To her surprise, Matt walked in, a takeaway bag in his hand. “Delivery for Trisha James.”
“Matt! Who let you in?”
“That’s becoming your favourite question.” He grinned at her.
She stood up to help him with the bag. “Oh. Come in, come in.” She took the bag and placed it on the coffee table in the middle of the room.
“What can I do for you?”
Matt sat on the couch, his features relaxed. “I’m here to have dinner with you. Isn’t that obvious?”
She gave him a quizzical look. “But why?”
“Well, you’re working with me, and I want to make sure you’re eating well. I want to make sure you make the right decisions, decisions that will be beneficial to my company.” He leaned back and studied her, an appreciative light landed in his eyes.
She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Have I ever given you the impression that I won’t be giving my best?”
It was a challenge. “No, but is having dinner with you such a difficult task?” He crossed his arms, mirroring her.
She relaxed her shoulders. It was late and she didn’t want to sound ungrateful or get into a debate with him. And she was admittedly hungry.
“Thank you, Matt. I hope you know, though, that you’re our firm’s most important client and I won’t be giving you any less than my best, with or without delicious bribes.”
His eyes twinkled with mischief. “Why, Trisha, what do you think is the best for me?” He held her gaze, studying her face. She felt like he was trying to read her mind.
“For you, I don’t know. For your company, yes, I do know,” she replied.
“Why don’t you ask me?” It was his turn to challenge her.
“I’d rather not. So, what did you bring me?” She craved his treats more than banter at the moment. After working for several hours, she refused to feel guilty for taking advantage of his delectable delivery. The bag gave off the aroma of fresh cheeses and steaming carbs.
“Margarita cheese pizza with extra cheese, and a dash of tartufo. I also got carbonara spaghetti for you, and Bolognese for me, plus two cans of Orangina.”
She smiled with excitement. These were her favourite comfort food. And he remembered.
“I know what you’re thinking.” He stood up and faced her.
“And what is it that I’m thinking, pray tell?” she teased.
“That I’m pretty amazing.” He smiled widely.
She returned his smile, glittering blue eyes meeting his wintergreen ones. She shrugged and began to open the food package. “For a slice of that Margarita, I guess you’re alright.” She took out a slice and bit into it, her eyes challenged his some more. Then she had to add, “A little more than alright, perhaps.”
Always, My Valentine by Mary Lynn Cooper
Read the Novel on Amazon:
US: http://amzn.com/B01B2E5EOY
UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01B2E5EOY
CA: http://www.amazon.ca/dp/B01B2E5EOY
AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B01B2E5EOY
Mary Lynn Cooper
Mary Lynn was educated in Los Angeles, London and Siena. Her first passion is love: loving God, her family and friends. Travel is her second passion. Her affinity for travel extends to learning languages (Italian, French, Korean and Japanese). She's a huge foodie and took up cooking lessons from a chef in London. A sports enthusiast, her favourite athlete is Novak Djokovic.
Mary Lynn loves sailing, horse races, polo and poker. London is her home for the moment but a part of her heart will always be in California.
To be updated on her upcoming releases, visit her blog and “like” her Facebook page. Drop her an email. She loves to hear from readers!
Blog: MLCooperBooks.com
Facebook: facebook.com/marylynnauthor
Email: mailto:[email protected]
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Be Mine This Christmas: A Lovers in London Book Page 26
