“No.”
“Then there’s your problem.”
He shook his head. “We’ve got more problems than sex, Nick.”
“Such as? You’ve got a beautiful wife and daughter. A great house, a good job, terrific brothers—well, at least one,” he joked.
Matt ignored the last bit.
He looked sourly at his brother. “Don’t you have an office of your own to go to?”
Nick gave a quiet chuckle. “No wonder Lana can’t put up with you. You’re a grouch.”
“And you’ve outstayed your welcome,” Matt pointed out, grateful for his concern but equally grateful he was letting the subject drop.
“Okay, I’ll leave. I only came to give you some good news. Valente’s Woman is a finalist in the Fragrance of the Year Award.”
Matt felt a rush of pleasure. “That’s terrific. Dad will be so proud.”
“You bet. Alex asked Dad to come down to the office. We’ll open a bottle of bubbly.” Nick pushed to his feet and headed for the door. “See you in about fifteen minutes?”
“Fine.”
Nick stopped briefly. “By the way, Matt. That’s a nice shade of lipstick you’re wearing.”
Matt smiled grimly at the parting shot even as thoughts of Lana returned.
Hell.
If he wasn’t careful he’d be making love to her again and then they’d be right back where they started. And if that happened, for all her talk to the contrary, she might even want to make this marriage permanent.
Not a chance.
He might want her physically more than he’d ever wanted any woman, but that didn’t mean he was ready to be tied down. This marriage was only temporary, and if she tried to make it permanent, then she was in for a shock.
No way.
Getting up from his chair he went into the bathroom. Sure enough, he had a smear of Lana’s peach-tinted lipstick on his top lip.
And the soft honeyed taste of her in his mouth.
Lana was relieved when Matt went out that evening after dinner. There’d been a hint of danger in his eyes ever since this afternoon. That kiss had shaken her, and it seemed it had shaken him, too. They were both in deep trouble.
Together they were an explosive combination. If she wasn’t careful there’d be nothing left but to pick up the pieces. She’d done that once before. She wasn’t sure she could do it again.
So she wasn’t sure why she went out the next day and bought herself a new dress for the ballet that evening. It wasn’t just to cheer herself up. Nor was it because her money worries were nonexistent right now and she could afford silk instead of cotton.
Could it be that she wanted Matt to be proud of being seen with her? Okay, it was a very feminine reaction. She could admit that.
And so was defiance, she thought, somewhat smugly as she stepped into the living room that evening and saw Matt standing at the windows with Megan in his arms, looking out at the swimming pool.
He turned around when he heard her.
And that dangerous gleam stirred.
“Is that a new dress?”
She smoothed the front of the peacock-blue material over her stomach in a nervous gesture. “Yes.”
“Did you charge it to me?”
That brought her chin up. “No.”
His eyes swept over her, trickling down her form like a soft powder. “You look lovely,” he said, his voice a touch husky.
Her throat went dry. She wasn’t used to such compliments from Matt. She feared she could get used to it.
“Thank you.” She moistened her mouth, wanting to say how nice he looked himself, but that would have been an understatement. In his dark suit and white shirt, he was sex appeal personified, his sophistication imprinted on him like a birthmark.
The Valente birthmark.
Thankfully Megan babbled something, and not for the first time Lana was grateful for her daughter’s presence.
They drove to Cesare and Isabel’s apartment and dropped Megan off for the night, the older couple delighted to have their grandchild and neither looking the least bit exhausted.
“Your father seems to have weathered his day well,” Lana said pointedly, once they were in the car and heading toward the city center.
“Don’t let him fool you. He’s good at hiding things.”
Cesare wasn’t the only one, Lana pondered, stealing a look at Matt’s profile, then turning away when he caught her gaze. He looked so handsome he quite took her breath away.
In what seemed like moments, they were parking the car in the Opera House car park. He cupped her elbow as they walked to the elevator that would take them up to the concourse area, but she broke contact with him when they stepped around a crowd of people chatting.
“We might run into some people I know,” he said in a clipped tone, cupping her elbow again. “So do you think you could look like you actually want to be with me?”
She tried to ignore the tingle of his touch. “You don’t have to put on a show tonight, Matt. Everyone must have figured out by now why you married me.”
“I don’t give a damn what everyone thinks they know, but I do have some pride. You’re a beautiful woman and they would expect that we’re having a physical relationship.”
“Then they’d be wrong,” she said, but her mind was on his comment.
He thought her beautiful.
Just as quickly another thought replaced it.
He also thought her a thief.
They went straight to their seats. As the dance started, she got caught up in the stirring power of the ballet. The superb music accompanying the emotional tale wowed her until she forgot all about her problems and Matt beside her.
Until intermission arrived. The curtain lowered and she felt his eyes upon her.
“You’re enjoying yourself?”
It was silly to feel a bit self-conscious. “Yes, very much.”
“Good. My father will be happy.”
She was glad she could make someone happy.
She stood up. “I think I’ll go find the ladies’ room.”
He got to his feet, too. “I’ll meet you in the bar.”
They parted ways not long after and once she’d finished in the ladies room, she was walking along the corridor to the bar when she saw a wallet on the floor.
Automatically she picked it up and gasped when she saw the wad of hundred-dollar bills inside. The name “Arthur Taran” was on the driver’s license. She was about to go hand it into management when she caught sight of one of the staff. She gave it to her instead and the woman promised she’d find the owner.