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‘As long as you’re sure.’
She drank her coffee. ‘You’re as bad as Frank. He worries I’m not serious about it, either. Whenever we hit the doldrums he offers to let me bail out if I want to, so I won’t be tied to a losing proposition—even though it would be a hardship for him to scrape up the money to purchase my share.’
He studied her thoughtfully. ‘That’s very generous of him. Ever been tempted to take him up on it?’
‘No. I guess he’s figured out by now that I’m not a quitter. You wouldn’t be making this offer to me because you think it’s too downmarket for a tycoon like you to have a girlfriend—’
‘Fiancée.’
‘—who’s a security chick, would you?’
‘A security chick?’ He grinned. ‘Is that
what they call you on the streets? Is that an updated version of a red-hot mama?’
She turned her nose up at him. ‘If you’re ashamed of what I do—’
He got up from the breakfast bar and kissed her mouth. ‘Of course I’m not. Don’t be silly, darling. It was just an idea, that’s all. I just want you to be happy.’
‘You’ll be telling me not to worry my fluffy little head about it next,’ she muttered sarcastically, and they both suddenly creased with laughter at the absurdity of the image.
But the disruptive thought returned to trouble her in the heady days that followed, as she fell ever more profoundly in love with the complex man who had brought such unexpected drama and passion into her life.
The emotional intensity of their affair was such that, at times, she believed that Matt’s feelings ran as deeply as hers, that even though their love remained undeclared he was as desirous as she to move forward to the next level of intimacy. They talked for hours about almost every aspect of their lives, and made love with impassioned ardour, but at other times Rachel’s heightened sensitivity to his moods made her aware of an element of reserve in Matt, a waiting quality that erected an invisible barrier which she was afraid to broach for fear of what lay behind it.
She thought it might be because of his father, who had thrown the expected tantrum when he had been told that his fully-grown son had got himself unofficially engaged to someone who was not on his list of approved political assets. Rachel had weathered her first encounter with the post-operative Kevin Riordan with a gutsy good humour that had gained his grudging respect, but when she taxed Matt afterwards about whether she should stay out of his family’s orbit, in order not to create a further rift between father and son, he was adamant in his refusal.
‘My love-life is none of his business. Dad never had a hope in hell of breeding me to some dippy debutante and he knows it. He never wanted me to marry Leigh, either…’
Rachel forbore to point out that his father’s negative attitude had been fully justified. Even though no one else had been told about Leigh’s HIV status, the Riordans couldn’t have escaped knowing that her turbulent affair with their nephew had scarcely come to an end before she’d rushed to the altar with Matt.
‘He thinks I’m too old for you, as well.’ “Not enough child-bearing years left” was the delicate way Kevin Riordan had actually put it!
‘It’s a wonder Mum didn’t brain him with his bedpan—seeing she’s three years older than him herself!’ Matt said wryly. ‘He’s just blowing smoke in your eyes, Rachel, like he was with all that rot about my shining political future. He knows I have no interest in public office, but it pleases him to pretend to his pals that he’s a potential king-maker.’
He took her in his arms and kissed her. ‘Stop worrying so much about what other people are thinking. We both know that life is too precious to waste storing up grief for ourselves—let’s just enjoy what we have while we have it…’
That sounded ominously like a warning against building castles in the air, and a few days later Rachel’s nebulous doubts and fears were given a devastating credibility.
She had arranged to meet Matt after work at his apartment, for which he had given her a key, and, having brought some paperwork to work on until he arrived, she absently answered the phone when it rang instead of leaving the answer-machine to pick up.
It was Neville Stiller, returning a prior call from Matt letting him know that Kevin Riordan was now convalescing at home.
‘I didn’t know you two had moved in together,’ he probed, when Rachel told him that Matt wasn’t home.
‘We haven’t,’ she told him coolly.
‘We never did get around to having that lunch…’
‘No.’
She didn’t say anything else, but he had no difficulty in reading her silence. ‘And never will, either, huh? Not even as a thank-you to me for giving you that contract you and your partner have been busting your buttons for?’
She didn’t like the implication. ‘That was a purely business decision on your part, not a personal favour. You should be thanking us for all the money we’re going to save KR Industries over the next two years.’
‘Does that mean our lunch is on, after all?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Give it up, Neville, you’re just trying to use me to get at Matt.’
