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BOOK 8
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Being Yours BOOK 8
When they pulled up outside her apartment, Alex gave Matt a tremulous smile. She felt more composed now, although from time to time panic still shuddered through her at the thought of what might have happened without his intervention.He returned her smile. “Give me your key, and I’ll unlock the door and switch on the lights.”Obediently she reached for her evening bag and rummaged for her set of keys. They weren’t there. She upended the bag onto her lap and desperately sorted through the contents, pushing her purse and lipstick to one side, inspecting a packet of tissues, moving a half-eaten tube of mints. Nothing! Not a single key!Matt turned on the interior light as she scrabbled on the floor in case the keys had fallen out of her bag when she got into the car. Finally she had to admit defeat. “I can’t find them,” she said, tears dangerously close to the surface again. “I know I put them in my bag when I set out.”Hearing the wobble in her voice, Matt didn’t say anything that woul
Being Yours BOOK 8
Alex woke to the sound of a heavy thud outside her bedroom window. It was followed by angry voices, and she hurriedly stumbled out of bed and, for a second time that night, peered through a slat in the blinds.Two men were walking away from the apartment, and the taller of the two appeared to have the other in a viselike grip. When they reached the pavement, he opened the door of a car that was parked at the side of the road and bundled his victim inside. Alex had a brief view of both men as the interior light came on. One was short and dark and looked vaguely familiar. The other was Matt!She rubbed her eyes in disbelief and then looked again. There was absolutely no doubt about it. Although she couldn’t see his face, the tilt of his head and the breadth of his shoulders as he stood beside the car were so achingly familiar that she felt weak at the knees. What was he doing outside her apartment at four in the morning? She had seen him drive away at least a couple of hours earlier, an
Being Yours BOOK 8
When Matt woke up, Alex, already dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, was sitting on the balcony enjoying the freshness of the morning and sipping an orange juice. For a long moment he didn’t move. From where he was sitting, he could only see part of her profile and the pale nape of her neck, which looked slender and vulnerable under the curls of her ponytail. It was enough, though, to set his stomach clenching with sudden desire. He snapped his eyes shut. When he opened them again, she had left the balcony and was busying herself at the breakfast bar.“I can only offer toast and fruit,” she said.Damping down his feelings, he uncoiled himself from the sofa with a groan as the effects of a night in the car kicked in. Then he stretched his arms above his head, giving Alex the merest glimpse of a tanned and firm stomach where one of the buttons had come undone on his crumpled shirt. She hurriedly averted her eyes, but not before her breath had caught in her throat. He was beautiful, she deci
Being Yours BOOK 8
Alex made straight for the dining area as soon as they arrived at the Alcaszar. Matt, following more slowly, chuckled when he noticed her scarlet sneakers.“I see you haven’t taken the concept of sensible shoes entirely seriously,” he teased.She flashed him a quick smile but didn’t answer. Instead, she turned her full attention to the dining room. It was a grand affair with high ceilings and the promise of a bright and airy interior once soft pastels and creams transformed the plum-colored walls and pale marble tiling opened up the floor area. An entire wall of folding glass panels looked out onto a balustraded terrace and what had once been an exotic tropical garden.“That needs a canopy,” she said, waving toward the terrace. “People will want to eat outside during the daytime, but it will be too hot without shading. If you use a canopy instead of umbrellas, then everyone will have an uninterrupted view of the gardens, even those diners who prefer to stay indoors.”“But what about t
Being Yours BOOK 8
As Matt had predicted, Alex had very little spare time once the weekend was over.Lost in the confusion of their own thoughts, neither of them had said much as Matt drove her home late on Sunday afternoon. When they arrived, he had carried the laptop inside and then insisted on checking the apartment again in case unwelcome visitors had let themselves in while it was empty. Once he was sure that everything was safe, he had made for the door with a reminder to bolt it behind him and a promise to send a locksmith first thing in the morning. He had also told Alex to telephone him immediately if anyone appeared to be hanging around.“Not that I think even Francesco will try that again,” he said, stifling a yawn.Realizing that after nearly thirty-six hours without sleep he was exhausted, Alex had given him a little push. “Go home,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”“As long as you promise to call if you’re worried,” he insisted.“I promise,” she replied, and then had watched him walk away from he
Being Yours BOOK 8
Alex was up early on Saturday. She sat on her balcony enjoying the early-morning sunshine as she thought about the day ahead. While she very definitely needed a break, she wasn’t at all sure whether spending a day on the beach with Matt, particularly a Matt dressed in a bathing suit, would provide much relaxation. The only thing to do, she told herself firmly, was to spend as much time as possible chatting with Cristina and playing with the children. That way she could avoid being in close proximity with Matt and enjoy herself at the same time.Working with him over the past weeks had not been as difficult as she had feared. There was so much to do that there had been little time for their conversations to be anything other than strictly professional, and, because her ankle was better, she now worked mostly in the office, which meant that they were never alone. That, combined with the fact that she had rented her own car and so was much more independent, meant that she had been able t
Being Yours BOOK 8
He went with her, holding her hand as she climbed painfully up the steps; and it was Matt who helped her into the ambulance and who steadied her as it bumped across the rocky cliff path. The little boy traveled with them. He was recovering fast, and he stared at them from the safety of his mother’s lap. Although she was pale with shock, she smiled and thanked Alex and Matt repeatedly and tearfully as the ambulance conveyed all of them to the hospital.When they reached their destination, an overworked nurse whisked the little boy and his mother away, only pausing long enough to wave Alex and Matt toward an empty cubicle. Matt pulled the curtains for privacy and then helped Alex onto the treatment bed and covered her with a thin blanket, keeping it clear of the raw skin on her leg.“I’d quite like to spend some time with you that doesn’t involve trauma or bandages and painkillers,” he told her, settling himself into the chair beside her.She gave him a wobbly smile. “Me too!”“Maybe we
Being Yours BOOK 8
When Matt arrived at the office on Monday morning, he found Alex already hard at work. From the papers strewn across her desk and the half-drunk cup of coffee beside them, it was clear that she had been there for some time. In two strides he was beside her, his palms flat on her desk, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown.“I told you to stay at home until you recovered!” he snapped.Before she could reply, the telephone rang, and one of the temporary assistants put the call through to Matt’s office. With a growl of irritation he made for the door and was soon in deep discussion with a client. Alex felt anger and frustration building inside her as she watched him go. With a sigh, she flung down her pen. On Saturday she had finally accepted that she was totally and completely in love with him. With it had come the bitter realization that she had to accept that her feelings for him were one-sided, because he would never be interested in anyone while the memory of his failed marriage ha
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