Secret Heirs And A Forever Family

‘Friends!’ Matt gave a disbelieving laugh as he turned and pressed his back against the door. ‘You’re not serious?’

Joanna had the feeling that she’d had too many glasses of wine. She wasn’t thinking clearly. She’d wanted him to go, for heaven’s sake. So why was she delaying him now?

When she didn’t answer, Matt got impatient. ‘I don’t have time for this,’ he said roughly. ‘I suggest you go to bed. I’ll meet you in the coffee bar in the morning.’

Joanna licked her lips. ‘What if I don’t want to go to bed?’ There was so much adrenalin coursing through her veins, she doubted she’d ever sleep again. Instead, she walked towards the windows Matt had opened earlier. ‘The pool’s floodlit, isn’t it? I might go for a swim.’

Matt stared at her as if she’d taken leave of her senses.

But Joanna was suddenly so warm her skin was prickling with heat. Hardly thinking what she was about to do, she unbuttoned her tunic and peeled it off. Then she tipped the straps of her bra down over her arms, feeling the blessed relief of air from the air-conditioning system cooling her overheated flesh.

Matt swore. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he demanded, and she heard the revealing thickening of his tone. His voice was both harsh and raw with emotion, and Joanna lifted a nervous hand to her throat.

‘I’m going for a swim,’ she said lightly. ‘The water will be beautifully cool at this time of the evening.’

Matt’s teeth ground together. ‘If you think I might come with you—’

‘I don’t expect anything of you, Matt.’ Yet despite her words desire was suddenly shimmering throughout her body. Her blood was racing like liquid fire, and she moistened dry lips with a pink tongue. ‘You can stay or go. It’s up to you.’

‘I made my decision five minutes ago,’ Matt reminded her, stifling a curse, but his face suddenly blazed with colour. Didn’t she realise what seeing her in only half a bra and a skimpy pair of panties was doing to him?

Of course, she did. He scowled. ‘If this is some sick game you’re playing—’

‘It’s no game.’ She took a deep breath, stretching her arms above her head. ‘I don’t play games, Matt. I’m going swimming. What’s wrong with that?’

‘It’s after eleven o’clock.’

‘So?’

Matt swore and turned towards the door again and she realised he was really leaving this time. Which was probably just as well, she assured herself unsteadily, grabbing her overnight bag and heading for the bathroom. That way he need never know she’d only been bluffing.

She didn’t wait to hear the door slam behind him. There was a closed door to her left, which she guessed led into the bathroom, and she couldn’t wait to take off the rest of her clothes and step into a cool shower. She had no illusions now that Matt really cared what happened to her, and she found her eyes were stupidly brimming with tears.

She was reaching for the handle when a lean brown wrist came over her shoulder. Matt’s hand flattened against the door, successfully preventing her from opening it.

‘You planning on getting changed in the closet?’ he asked, his taut body imprisoning hers against the door. ‘Not a good plan, Jo.’

Joanna gulped. ‘I thought you were leaving.’

‘I was. I should be.’ Matt’s voice was hoarse. ‘But I’m crazy. Didn’t you know?’

Aware that her heart was palpitating in her breast, Joanna rested her hot face against the panels of the door. ‘Why are you still here?’ she whispered brokenly. ‘What do you want from me?’

‘Don’t you know?’ Matt demanded savagely. His hand slid beneath her bra, his palm rubbing sensuously over her burgeoning nipple. ‘Go on, tell me to go now. Or are you having too much fun at my expense?’

‘I’m not having fun at your expense,’ protested Joanna, her breath hitching as he lowered his free hand to her stomach. ‘I didn’t want you to go.’

‘You know what, I find that hard to believe.’

‘It’s true,’ she panted, leaning her head back against his shoulder. ‘You’re still the only man I’ve ever loved.’

Matt’s breath caught in his throat and he allowed his fingers to slide down over the flimsy lace of her panties. Joanna’s stomach contracted, and she shuddered in anticipation when his hand continued down until it was trapped between her legs.

Then he pressed her back against his throbbing shaft and muttered in an undertone, ‘Now I guess you know why I’m still here,’ as he swung her round to face him. Then he bent his head and took possession of her mouth.

And Joanna knew that ever since she’d seen Matt again, she’d been fighting this battle over and over in her mind. Now she didn’t hesitate, giving herself up to the demands of her senses, winding her arms around his neck and parting her lips for his tongue.

Her lacy bra was discarded, and his tongue tugging on her nipples was a forbidden delight. Tiny rivulets of fire invaded every pore of her body, and she dragged his mouth back to hers with an urgency too long denied.

Her fingers sought the button at the waist of his pants and she caressed his taut stomach with her knuckles as she pulled it free. Then his zip slid smoothly down to his crotch and exposed the bulging outline of his shaft.

His erection swelled against the silk of his boxers. She half expected him to take her there, pressed against the door. She wouldn’t have objected, she thought wildly. But he inhaled a tortuous breath and swung her up into his arms.

‘The bed, I think,’ he said thickly, and, stepping over his pants, he carried her into the room next door.

Between lowering her onto the bed and following her down he managed to dispose of his boxers. Then, straddling her yielding form, he cupped her face between his hands. ‘If you change your mind now, I’ll never forgive you,’ he muttered hoarsely, but Joanna’s fingers were already seeking the swollen stiffness of his shaft.

‘I need to be inside you. God, why did you make me wait so long?’ he choked, almost strangled by his emotions.

Just for a brief moment, as Matt’s tongue traced a sensuous path from her breasts to her navel and beyond, Joanna wondered if it was she who was crazy and not him. How would she feel about this in the morning? Would she remember it as the biggest mistake of her life? But when his fingers slipped between her legs again and entered her, she arched to meet them. Then shuddered as a wave of sexual pleasure sent her hurtling over the brink.

She wrapped her arms and legs around him, and he didn’t hesitate. With an urgency born of need, he moved between her thighs and buried his length inside her.

Their lovemaking was hot and passionate. Matt had forgotten how good it felt to be with her, to have her muscles tightening around him, her body tensing again, ready for what was to come. When he felt the spasms of excitement rippling through her, he pushed ever more deeply into her core.

Joanna’s head was spinning. She’d missed Matt’s lovemaking more than she could ever say. Their rhythms matched, so smooth, so natural. Her body arched to meet his thrusts, perfectly in tune with his demands.

When he moved faster, so did she. She felt as if her senses were on overload, spiralling out of control. The darkness of his passion surrounded her, the pulse of his excitement causing her to climax again and again. And when his release came, she clung to him, feeling him filling her with his seed.

Joanna opened her eyes to daylight.

It was still very early. Barely six o’clock according to her watch. But attuned as she was to British time, the fact that the sun was not yet up meant nothing. Miami was five hours behind London and in consequence she was instantly wide awake.

She blinked as her brain kicked in, recognising the suite at the hotel the manager had shown them into the night before. She and Matt, she remembered, with a sudden feeling of apprehension.

Dear God!

Propping herself up on her elbows, she turned her head, half expecting to find herself alone. Surely what she’d thought had happened had been just a dream; a sensual hallucination; brought about by overwrought senses and too many glasses of wine.

But she was not alone. There was a warm body beside hers in the bed. Matt’s body, she realised a little incredulously, as her breathing quickened in disbelief. He’d evidently fallen asleep, as she had. So what price now her earlier conviction that she’d imagined the whole thing?

Easing back against the pillows, not wanting to disturb him until she’d assessed the situation, she felt a headache probing at her temples. Evidently, she’d had too many glasses of wine and too little sustenance the night before. Why else, in the name of all that was holy, would she have allowed this to happen? After everything she’d said about her husband, how had she got herself into this mess?

The awareness of her own nakedness briefly diverted her. She hadn’t slept in the nude since the last time she and Matt had shared a bed. She certainly hadn’t expected to share one with him again. Not on this trip. Nor any other. What about her demands for a divorce?

The ache between her thighs was a reminder of what had actually occurred. They’d made love several times, she remembered, her skin prickling in response. They’d both seemed insatiable, she recalled, unable to deny it. She’d wanted him, quite desperately as it had turned out. So what did that say about her?

She might hate Matt for the way she believed he’d betrayed her father, but he’d now know it hadn’t entirely erased the feelings they’d once shared. If only she’d taken David’s advice and conducted this negotiation from a distance. Yet she couldn’t entirely blame Matt for her own weakness where he was concerned.

She lifted a hand to her breasts. They, too, were intensely sensitive, and she recalled how Matt had suckled from their swollen peaks. Then his mouth had burned a sensual path to her navel, before he’d buried his head so erotically between her thighs.

Involuntarily, her hand slid down to touch the damp curls between her legs. She was sensitive there, too. But it was just sex, she told herself fiercely. Sex that had driven her to behave the way she had. Nothing more.

Yet seeing Matt’s head on the pillow beside hers, she knew she couldn’t trust herself to behave any more sensibly this morning. Wanting someone was an addictive thing, and she was apparently unable to resist. She was intensely vulnerable, so she should make sure she wasn’t here when he woke up.

For a moment more, she studied his lean dark features, fighting the lingering desire to draw his hand between her legs. She couldn’t deny he was still immensely attractive to her, but she believed the love she’d once had for him had given way to a much more basic need.

It wouldn’t last, she assured herself. No relationship built on such foundations survived. The sooner she collected her belongings and got out of the hotel, the better.

What a blessing it was that she hadn’t unpacked the night before, she thought, as she slid cautiously out of bed. Although she’d left her jeans and tee shirt on the bed when she’d gone to dinner at the villa, she’d stuffed them back into her bag before leaving for the hotel.

A quick use of the facilities and she could be on her way, she thought. Though it was nerve-racking trying to get dressed without disturbing Matt. She had no idea what she’d say to him if he woke up. Or what he might say to her.

But he didn’t wake up. He was still sleeping soundly when she headed for the door. She hesitated for a moment in the doorway, wishing it didn’t have to end like this. Then, squaring her shoulders, she slipped the latch and headed for the lift.

CHAPTER SEVEN

JOANNA WAS EXHAUSTED by the time she let herself into her small apartment the following morning. The flight from New York had landed soon after six-thirty. And, although she’d been hoping to get a few hours’ sleep on the flight, a crying baby and the man beside her snoring for most of the journey had put paid to that.

She’d flown home via New York because the flight from Miami to London hadn’t been due to leave until the evening and the last thing she’d wanted to do was hang around Miami airport, looking as though she was waiting for Matt to come and find her.

There’d been a flight to New York almost immediately, and she’d been lucky enough to snag a seat in business class. She’d excused the extravagance on the grounds that it was an emergency. Some things were worth the price you had to pay.

She wasn’t looking forward to seeing David again. Naturally she wouldn’t tell him she’d slept with Matt. But she was very much afraid he would suspect what had been going on. And in her present fragile state, she might well reveal more than she intended.

He was bound to say ‘I told you so’ if she admitted that the visit hadn’t gone as she’d anticipated. He’d warned her not to go and she half wished she’d taken his advice.

Half wished?

Shaking her head, she stripped off her clothes and headed for the shower. Standing under the hot spray, she felt as if she was sluicing every trace of Matt’s lovemaking from her body. A vain hope, she acknowledged, and when she heard the phone ringing as she turned off the water, she found herself hoping that it was Matt.

Crazily, her heart skipped a beat at the thought, but then she quickly came down to earth again. It was her mobile phone that was ringing and Matt didn’t have her mobile number. Wrapping a bath towel around her, she went with rather less enthusiasm to answer it, which even she knew was foolish. She felt a sense of resignation when she saw David Bellamy’s number on the small screen.

She really didn’t want to talk to him right now. Yet she had no choice. ‘Hi, David,’ she said, trying to adopt an upbeat tone. Crossing her fingers to protect herself against the lie, she added, ‘I was going to ring you later.’

‘How much later?’ He didn’t sound appeased. ‘You must have arrived home hours ago.’

‘Not hours,’ she protested. ‘It was early morning when I landed. You might not have been awake if I’d phoned you then.’

‘Even so…’

‘David, I needed a shower and a change of clothes. You know what it’s like when you’ve been away.’

‘You were only away a couple of days, Joanna. It was hardly a holiday.’ He sighed. ‘Do I take it you saw the great man?’

‘I saw Matt, yes.’ Joanna hesitated before continuing. ‘Actually, he’s been ill. That’s why he didn’t answer any of my emails.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, really,’ she said, half annoyed at feeling the need to defend herself. ‘He’d picked up a bug in South America while he was there.’

‘Oh, well…’ David evidently decided not to push his luck. ‘So you’ll be coming in—what? Later today?’

‘Make it tomorrow,’ she said, although the idea of going into work at all wasn’t appealing right now. ‘This place is a mess and I need to do some grocery shopping.’ She paused. ‘Is that all right?’

‘I guess so,’ replied David ruefully. ‘Anyway, I just wanted to assure myself that you got home safely.’

‘Well, thanks.’ Joanna realised she’d been in danger of taking her frustrations out on him. ‘I’ll tell you all about my trip tomorrow.’ Or as much as was sensible anyway. ‘Okay?’

It was the hotel phone that awakened Matt.

His own mobile phone was in the pocket of the trousers he’d taken off—well, kicked off in the other room, actually—the night before. If it had rung earlier, he certainly hadn’t heard it.

Groaning, he blinked, taking stock of his surroundings. Then, realising that Joanna wasn’t beside him—was she in the shower? —he rolled over to snag the phone at her side of the bed.

‘Yeah?’

‘Matt? Oh, thank goodness, I’ve reached you at last. I’ve been ringing your phone for ages but you didn’t answer.’

Matt recognised his sister’s voice at once. ‘What’s the urgency?’

Sophie clicked her tongue. ‘Well, when you didn’t come home last night, we were all concerned. But then, this business with Dad—’

‘What business with Dad?’ Matt dragged himself up against the pillows and forced himself to focus on what she was saying. ‘What’s happened?’

Sophie sighed. ‘Oh, Matt, we had a call from Andy Reichert in the early hours.’ Andy Reichert was his—now his father’s—second-in-command. ‘He’d phoned Dad last night, and he’d been concerned when he couldn’t reach him. Apparently, Dad hadn’t been too well during the afternoon, so, as a last resort, Andy went to the office.

‘He found Dad slumped over his desk. He called 911, naturally, and Dad was rushed to hospital. It’s another stroke, Matt. A more serious one this time. No one knows what the eventual outcome will be, but right now it’s touch and go.’

Three weeks later, Joanna had accepted that Matt wasn’t going to contact her. Whatever had happened in Miami, he’d evidently decided there was no point in pursuing her to England.

She’d found it hard to accept at first. She’d been so sure he’d want to see her again. Foolish, perhaps, but after the night they’d spent together, she’d actually been tempted to give him a second chance.

Still, maybe that was just her hormones talking. Whatever, she’d finally convinced herself that maintaining the status quo was in her best interests and his. She’d been in danger of losing sight of her reasons for going to Miami in the first place. Was she so easy to deceive?

Evidently so.

She hadn’t heard from Matt’s solicitors either, though in the last week, and with David’s encouragement, she’d consulted a firm of divorce lawyers here in London. She’d given them Matt’s address and had assumed they’d contact him on her behalf, and she’d waited on tenterhooks for his response. But nothing had come of it. Yet.

A second interview was planned for the beginning of the following week, and she’d decide then what she was going to do. There didn’t seem much point in delaying the inevitable. Which meant she had to tell her mother what was going on.

Glenys Carlyle—or Glenys Avery, as she was now—lived in Cornwall with her second husband. Lionel Avery was a wine merchant she’d met at a night club in London fifteen years ago, just after she and Joanna’s father had separated.

Although he was almost eight years her junior, they seemed happy together. And despite the fact that Joanna had initially resented her mother for leaving her father, time, and the fallout both before and after her father’s death, had strengthened their relationship.

She’d been fourteen when her parents split up, and whenever the topic had come up, her father had always blamed his ex-wife. It was true, her mother had been the one to walk out on the marriage, but it was also true that Angus Carlyle was not the easiest man to live with.

After Glenys and Lionel were married, her mother had invited Joanna to live with them. But Joanna had felt she couldn’t leave her father on his own. Okay, she’d acknowledged that Angus Carlyle had his faults, but she didn’t feel she could abandon him completely.

And she hadn’t. But she found herself wondering now if that had been her first mistake.

Matt landed in London at about seven p.m. He’d used the company jet to fly to England, rather than try to book a seat on the scheduled flight, but he hadn’t been able to relax. Too much was going on, both in his business and his personal life. His pilot hadn’t been too pleased at being hauled out of bed in the early hours of the morning either, but he’d known better than to cause a fuss.

Matt had received the divorce papers from Joanna’s solicitors a few days ago, and since then he’d been agitating to get away. But he had responsibilities. Since his father’s second stroke, he’d had to take over again as CEO of the company, and it had been impossible for him to drop everything to fly to London.

A company car was waiting for him at the airport, and he gave the driver Joanna’s current address. Although he still owned the apartment they had shared in the city, she didn’t live there. After their break-up, she’d found her own apartment not far from the gallery. With Bellamy’s help, no doubt, Matt thought dourly, as the limousine transported him swiftly through the busy streets.

Colgate Court was a small development of one-and two-bedroomed serviced apartments, with the amenities common to such accommodations. Matt scowled when he got out of the car, reflecting that if Joanna had been willing to use the money he’d deposited regularly in her bank account, she could have afforded somewhere a lot better than this.

But it was adequate, he conceded, bending to inform his driver that he’d ring him if he needed him again. Then, fastening a couple of buttons on his cashmere jacket, he strode quickly towards the entry.

Matt had never been inside the building before, but he had checked the place out after attending her father’s funeral. He’d wanted to know where she was living, particularly as Joanna had apparently changed the number of her mobile phone so he couldn’t reach her that way.

A man was standing in the lobby of the building, looking out at him. The door to one of the ground-floor apartments was ajar and Matt wondered if he was the caretaker for the building. The outer door was locked with the usual keypad beside it, and after ascertaining which apartment was occupied by Mrs—no, Ms—Carlyle, he scowled at the anomaly and pressed her bell.

There was no response and his scowl deepened. He’d been fairly sure she’d be at home at this hour of the evening. Perhaps the man would know. He hesitated only a moment before knocking at the door, and after a second’s hesitation the man came to open it.

However, he regarded Matt rather suspiciously, as if he wasn’t used to dealing with visitors after dark. Especially a tall, intimidating visitor, who was regarding him with a definite air of impatience.

Matt’s skin was darkly tanned, too, after his convalescence in Florida, and he had an unconscious arrogance that apparently aroused the man’s defences. ‘Can I help you?’ he asked offhandedly, and Matt got the feeling that he was hoping he’d say no.

‘You already have,’ Matt replied, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Then, without waiting for an invitation, he stepped inside, causing the man to back up in alarm.

Adopting his most unthreatening tone, Matt continued, ‘I’m here to visit with my wife, Mrs Novak? Um, that is—Ms Carlyle,’ he amended shortly. ‘Do you know if she’s at home?’

The man frowned, and tucked the newspaper he’d been carrying under his arm. ‘I wouldn’t know,’ he said, with evident satisfaction. ‘I’m only the caretaker here. Sorry.’

Matt knew an almost uncontrollable desire to swear, but instead he said stiffly, ‘I’ll go up and see for myself. The third floor, isn’t it?’

The man took a heavy breath. ‘I can’t let you do that. You can ring her bell again, if you like, but—’

Matt controlled his annoyance with an effort. ‘She might have been in the bathroom when I rang,’ he protested.

‘She might indeed.’ The man sniffed and Matt sucked in an impatient breath.

‘Mrs—Ms Carlyle is my wife,’ he said curtly. ‘I need to speak with her.’

‘Do you now?’ The man cleared his throat. ‘Does she know you’re coming?’

Matt’s hands curled into fists in his pockets. He wasn’t used to being treated in this way. ‘No,’ he snapped tersely. ‘Not that it’s any business of yours. Now, if you’ll—’

But before he could go on, the door to a lift he’d barely noticed before swept open at the other side of the lobby. Footsteps crossed the faux marble floor, halting uncertainly when he turned.