Modern Romance May 2019: Books 5-8 Page 7

  Eventually Rose left the room, and the first thing Matias said, dropping his arms and walking away from her, was, ‘Do I make you nervous? Because you were behaving like a cat on a hot tin roof just then.’

  ‘Of course you don’t make me nervous.’ Georgina cleared her throat and let loose a brittle laugh, very conscious of the burning patch of skin he had touched and of those amazing eyes now pinned to her face. ‘I just didn’t expect your mother to...to...’

  ‘To suggest we actually do what most people would do, given they were in a serious relationship? Inhabit the same bedroom?’

  Georgina squirmed and reddened. ‘I thought she would be...might be...relieved not to have to confront that...er...reality... Plus, how are we to demonstrate the decline in our relationship if your mother isn’t around to witness it?’

  ‘Did you think the occasional woman I’ve brought here over the years was primly shown to a bedroom on another floor when I came to visit? And as for my mother seeing first-hand all the differences between us... Well, there will be time enough to demonstrate those. In the meanwhile, this is a tonic for her and I have no intention of whipping it away just yet.’

  ‘You’re not exactly being helpful, Matias.’ Georgina drew in a sharp, impatient breath and he raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Nor are you,’ Matias responded, without skipping a beat. ‘If concern for my mother is top of your agenda, then you should be embracing her enthusiasm for us to spend all our available time down here together, instead of trying to figure out how fast you can disillusion her.’

  ‘That’s a far cry from you refusing to even get involved in this whole charade!’

  Matias opened his mouth to dismiss her snide but perfectly understandable interruption. Instead he found himself saying, sotto voce, and with a sincerity that cut right through all his usual weary cynicism, ‘I’ve lost touch with my mother over the years. Taken care of the essentials and visited only as a matter of duty. Time has wreaked destruction over the years...and my values are so different from my parents’... Hell.’ He raked his fingers through his hair and flushed darkly, for once caught on the back foot. ‘Reconnecting with her, even in these utterly fake circumstances, isn’t something I’m plotting to destroy before it’s even really begun.’

  ‘Matias...’

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  The conversation was closed. She could see it in his shuttered expression and hear it in the finality of his voice. He’d opened up and already he was regretting it. She was filled with such an intense craving for this moment of shared confidence to be prolonged that it terrified her.

  ‘I’ll make sure a guest room is prepared for you,’ she muttered—a reminder more to herself than anyone else of the boundary lines within this little game of theirs.

  He returned a clipped nod.

  * * *

  Being out of his suffocating company for a handful of hours should have come as blessed relief, but instead Georgina spent the evening unable to concentrate on anything. She prepared one of the guest rooms for Matias, realising as she did so that she hadn’t actually been into this particular bedroom since her parents had left. It was dusty and smelled airless.

  She aired it all. and then had to fight down thoughts of Matias in the bed. How could these disturbing feelings still have lodgings inside her? Was it the oddness of their situation? Were there still embers of those flames that had been ignited all those years ago that had never been entirely doused? What had she unleashed with this ill-conceived plan of hers?

  Following that thought through to any kind of conclusion made her quail with apprehension. So instead she sat at her desk and brought her computer to life, scrolling through the extensive archives of food photos that had inspired her in the past and making rough notes on what sort of vibe she wanted to get for her young chef.

  But her mind was a million miles away. Things were no longer reassuringly black and white. There was an ocean of grey in between and she was realising that she was a very poor swimmer...

  The following morning she chose her outfit carefully. Casual cotton, ankle-length khaki trousers and a simple white ribbed tee shirt which she tucked into the waistband of the trousers. The same sandals she had worn the day before. Cool, easy to wear clothes put together in a way that gave her shape, brought out the best in her. Clothes that afforded her some measure of the control which she felt she needed—because the minute she was with Matias, playing this stupid game, control seemed to slip through her fingers like water through the holes of a colander.

  She heard the buzz of the doorbell and a surge of nerves washed over her, but she was as cool as a cucumber when she pulled open the door to see Matias, lounging against the doorframe, finger poised to ring again, even though she’d answered the door in seconds.

  It was another brilliant day and he was in a white polo shirt and a pair of low-slung faded jeans that lovingly hugged the muscular length of his legs. Her eyes drifted helplessly to the dark hair on his forearms and the way that dark hair curled around the dull matt silver of his watch strap.

  She dragged her eyes away and said abruptly, ‘You don’t have to do this. Rose would be none the wiser if you go to the next town and work to your heart’s content and then return at a respectable hour for us to join her.’

  ‘Strangely, I’m uncomfortable with such large-scale lying. Your one whopper is bad enough without adding to the tally by telling a few more lies. Now, let me in. I’d really like to see some of your work.’

  He straightened, and after a few seconds’ hesitation Georgina stood back.

  He brushed past her into the hall. ‘I haven’t been here in a long time...’

  He looked around him at a house that was homely and large but in need of some TLC. He could count the number of times he had stepped foot in this house on the fingers of one hand. For some reason gatherings had always been held by his parents. Or maybe he just hadn’t been around for the ones that had taken place here.

  ‘Why?’ he asked with genuine curiosity.

  Why do you continue to live here...? Why not spread your wings...? You’re young and sexy...

  The house was typically the residence of middle-aged people who had no real interest in décor. The wallpaper harked back to an era of flowers and birds and was faded. The wood was shiny, the rugs attractive but threadbare. Everything looked tired and old-fashioned. David and Alison White, from memory, both had the academic’s typical disregard for their surroundings, and for the first time he could understand why their creative daughter had been so enchanted by his parents’ flamboyance.

  ‘Why what?’

  Matias shrugged, letting it go. ‘Where do you work?’

  Georgina hesitated, then led him to the conservatory at the back, which she had converted into a studio. Her portfolio of work was neatly stacked on shelves and in a metal filing cabinet, and some of her photos hung on the wall. Her camera equipment was extensive.

  Matias was seriously impressed. He peered at the photos on display, standing back and then examining them in detail while she described the ins and outs of food photography and what it entailed with some embarrassment.

  Eventually her voice tapered off and she hovered, arms folded, by the door. ‘You honestly don’t have to say that you like them,’ she blurted out.

  ‘They’re...amazing.’

  He looked at her in silence for a few long seconds and she could feel her face getting hotter and hotter and redder and redder.

  ‘Who are your clients?’

  ‘Some chefs...obviously...’ She spun round and began heading out of the conservatory. Having him look at her work had made her feel exposed and vulnerable for some reason, and the sooner they headed off the better. ‘Usually up-and-coming ones, because I’m relatively cheap. Also I’ve made a name for myself in the restaurant trade around here. That’s my bread and butter, really. There are always new dishes they want photographed. And I’ve had a couple of commissions from publishing houses for recipe books...�
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  She blathered on witlessly and followed him out to his car. His driver had clearly vanished back to London.

  ‘So...’ Matias switched on the engine and the powerful car roared into life, but he didn’t drive off, instead choosing to lean against the door to look at her. ‘A day doing what loved-up couples apparently do. My mother was up at the crack of dawn preparing a picnic for our trip to the seaside. Now, I may have lived here for years, but you’ll have to provide directions. I can’t tell you the last time I went to a beach down here.’

  ‘Not even with one of those blondes you’ve sometimes brought down?’ Georgina said, disobeying her own mantra about steering clear of anything remotely personal and reverting to the comfort zone of bickering ex-neighbours.

  She briefly gave him a series of directions, but her curiosity about him had been unleashed and she was finding it hard to stuff it back into its box.

  ‘I don’t do beach trips with women,’ Matias drawled, glancing at her sideways as he began driving away from the house. ‘And I certainly don’t do home-made picnics.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I like keeping it light.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You’re very curious, aren’t you?’ Matias murmured. ‘Do you find me as fascinating now as you did all those years ago?’

  Georgina went beetroot-red. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said woodenly.

  ‘No? I remember you used to follow me with your eyes...always curious about my life at boarding school...always taking pot-shots at the girls I sometimes brought home...’

  ‘Polite,’ Georgina corrected in a strangled voice. ‘I was polite when I asked you about school. You were the only person I knew at a boarding school! And I didn’t take pot-shots at those girls. I may have sniggered a bit because they were all so empty-headed, and gazed at you as though you were the next best thing to sliced bread, but it certainly wasn’t because I found you fascinating.’

  Matias shrugged, but a half-smile tugged the corners of his mouth.

  Mortified, Georgina could barely appreciate the splendour of the beach when they finally got there, and although she made all the right noises about the hamper his mother had prepared she was barely able to think straight.

  She’d been so careful all those years ago! She’d watched him from the side lines, safe in the certainty that her silly crush was something no one knew about—least of all him. She’d downplayed the jealousy she’d felt when, over the years, she had noted all the wafer-thin models who had hung like limpets on his arm, gazing up at him with adoring eyes. She’d told herself that she was far happier with her photography and a sense of direction in her life.

  To know that he had seen through all that made her squirm with shame and embarrassment. Made her realise how sharp his instincts were when it came to the opposite sex. Made her see just how dangerous this little game could become if she allowed her eyes to stray. If he noticed... If he jumped to conclusions...

  They’d hit the beach at peak time, but they managed to find themselves a relatively serene spot and he laid out the picnic with exaggerated ceremony. He’d shrugged off her random remark of earlier, and barely glanced at her now as they settled on the large rug his mother had packed along with the food.

  ‘Hot,’ Matias said, sprawling on the ground with his hands behind his head, staring up at a cloudless blue sky from behind his designer sunglasses. ‘If I’d known it was going to be this hot I would have suggested we come equipped with our swimming gear—although swimming gear in these waters is strictly called a wetsuit. Unless you happen to be extremely hardy? Are you?’

  ‘I’ve been swimming a few times,’ Georgina said politely, gazing off into the distance but very much aware of his loose-limbed elegant body on the rug next to her. She was sitting up, as rigid as a plank of wood. He was sprawled on his back, his body language unspeakably relaxed and sexy.

  ‘Very impressive.’

  ‘You don’t have to put on a show when it’s just the two of us, Matias. I know the last thing you’ve ever been when it comes to me is impressed.’

  ‘You need to lose your insecurities. Earlier I asked you a question.’

  ‘What question?’

  Since when was Matias Silva equipped to talk to her about insecurities? Who did he think he was?

  He was looking at her. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her and it made her squirm.

  ‘Why are you still working here? Living here? In your parents’ house? I would have thought that after you were let down by that loser this would be the last place you would want to stay.’

  Georgina turned to look at him for a few seconds, then looked away. The questions felt invasive, and way too personal. She’d barely talked to anyone in any depth about the break-up all those years ago. She’d just got on with her life and side-stepped the pity and the sympathy.

  ‘There’s a big, bad world out there,’ he mused, ignoring every No Entry sign she was erecting and barging through. ‘Maybe you’ve stayed here because, for all your talk about still being a fan of happy-ever-after fairy tales, it’s safer for you to avoid putting it to the test and you can do that by burying yourself in your parents’ house and daydreaming about a world of possibilities you have no intention of exploring.’

  ‘This suits me at the moment.’ She was holding on to her temper with difficulty, but she wanted to throw something hard and heavy at his beautiful head. ‘I can save while I’m here. And, trust me, Matias, if something came up and made me think about leaving then I would.’

  ‘Something like what?’

  ‘I’m finished with this conversation!’

  She sprang up and began walking fast in the direction of the car, not looking back to see whether he was following or not. He was making her confront deep-seated insecurities about the direction of her life and she loathed him for it.

  Yes, of course she knew that there were more adventurous roads she could go down! But he didn’t understand and he never would. He had blown off this village when he was a teenager and he had never looked back. He had left as one person and morphed into a completely different one. He had pursued wealth and power and now he thought the way wealthy, powerful people thought. In black and white.

  She glanced behind her to see him sweeping up the picnic, hardly touched, and carelessly flinging everything inside the basket which had been provided.

  ‘What I think...what I choose to do with my life...is none of your business!’ She turned to him with furious eyes as soon as they were in the car and the engine was switched on.

  ‘You’re right.’ Matias looked at her levelly—a long, unflinching look that she had difficulty returning. ‘But do you want to know something?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Well, I’ll tell you anyway—considering you’ve made it your life’s work to tell me what you think of me and my life choices. You’re a coward. You talk the talk, but you don’t walk the walk. You’re in your parents’ house because you’re afraid of all the crap that happens out there in the big, bad world. You might have in your head some nonsense about the perfect man, but you won’t be looking too hard for him because you don’t want to get hurt again.’

  ‘That’s not true!’

  Her huge green eyes held a mixture of hurt and defiance and Matias knew that he had put that look there. But she’d never been backward at coming forward, and if she couldn’t stand the heat, then she had to get out of the kitchen.

  ‘Did he hurt you that much, Georgie?’

  ‘I hate you.’

  ‘No, you don’t.’

  He smoothed his finger over her cheek and this time he let it linger there. And she couldn’t push him away because she was mesmerised by his touch and by the nearness of him.

  She leaned towards him, the palms of her hands flat on the smooth leather of the passenger seat. ‘What do you think?’ she muttered gruffly.

  He cupped the side of her face with his hand. ‘I think you were probably a lot le
ss hurt than you should have been if you actually loved the guy, but you never loved him.’

  ‘How would you know?’

  ‘He was never the one for you,’ Matias said gently. ‘Which I said to you at the time. But your parents approved of him and that was enough for you to get sucked into something that never had legs in the first place.’

  ‘You think you know it all!’

  ‘I know enough.’

  ‘You’ve never had a long-standing, successful relationship!’

  ‘Never wanted one.’

  ‘Because...?’ Georgina looked at him with mutinous, challenging green eyes.

  ‘Because I prefer to direct my energies into the more tangible business of making money.’

  ‘Why the fixation with money?’ Georgina dared to ask, even though his shuttered expression was directing her away from any more personal questions. ‘It’s not as though that was the sort of thing that ever mattered to your parents.’

  He had eased out of the parking slot and they were steadily making their way back to his mother’s house. She’d barely noticed because she’d been so wrapped up in him.

  How could he be so full of contradictions? How could he be so charming, so lazily persuasive, so charismatic...and yet so coolly remote and untouchable?

  ‘But that’s just it,’ Matias said, sliding icy grey eyes across at her. ‘A bit of farming...a bit of hocus-pocus herbalism...a spot of magic massage here and there... You can pull that off when you’re buried deep in a village somewhere, but the real world is slightly more judgemental about that kind of nonsense. I found that out myself when I went to boarding school.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean,’ Matias gritted, his voice hard-edged and unforgiving, ‘when you’re thirteen and your parents are pulling up to collect you in a camper van and your mother is promising discounted Reiki sessions to the parents of boys you’ve only known for five minutes... Well, let’s just say that’s the stuff that learning curves are made from.’

  ‘I never knew...’ She only realised that the car had stopped when he killed the engine.