Her Man with Iceberg Eyes (15 page)

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Authors: Kris Pearson

Tags: #love affair, #sexy story, #new zealand author, #sizzling romance, #new zealand setting, #kris pearson, #alpine setting, #heartland heroine

BOOK: Her Man with Iceberg Eyes
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He appeared not to notice her hesitation.
“She hardly ever drives. This would be your toy if you
stayed...?”

She drew a sharp breath and shook her head.
“Not really my style.”

“Too flashy for you? I’ll buy you something
else then. A nice, sedate little Beamer?”

“I’m not coming back, Matthew. I can’t.” She
reached for her seatbelt and snapped it into place.

“Why not?”

Because my body is screaming for
yours.
Because you turn me on by just looking at me.
Because your mouth tastes like honey, and your hair feels like
feathers, and your skin is as hot and smooth as polished timber in
sunshine. Because, after all, you might actually be available. And
that’s too much to contemplate right now.

She shook her head again, willing her voice
not to tremble. “It’s not quite the situation I had in mind, and
you haven’t offered it to me anyway, so no harm done.”

 

He stayed silent, watching her with total
attention before closing her door and walking around to his own.
He’d scanned her CV and sent it to Sy Karlsen while she changed for
the movie. Had she decided to make a graceful exit because her
attempt at industrial espionage had proved difficult? Or because he
and she were so hot together she was running scared?

Their one kiss had pressed every panic button
in his big body. Another embrace like that and he’d have slung her
across his shoulder, and marched out of the cinema intent on
fucking her until they both expired from lust.

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

The car ceased its throaty growl. Kate
released her seatbelt and slid out with all possible speed, hoping
to make a dash for her room. Matthew’s door was closer to the
hallway though, and he intercepted her with ease. “Will you join
me?”

Hoping he meant in the spa, she shook her
head. “No thank you. I’m tired. I’ll sleep easily tonight. You need
to go and check on Lottie.”

And I’m certainly not giving you the chance
to start anything again.

“You’re running away from me?” One dark
eyebrow rose in challenge, and a corner of his mouth kicked up in a
slow burn of a grin.

“Of course I’m not,” she insisted. Warmth
spread everywhere as her body reacted to the invitation implicit in
his expression. She’d known from the moment she met him he’d have a
devastating smile, but hadn’t calculated on its effect on her. All
of her. Places that had no right to be wet and willing suddenly
felt very wet and willing indeed.

He shook his head slowly. “Lottie can wait.
She’s probably asleep by now anyway.”

Kate pictured her.
On the other floor of
the house. Well away from here. Unable to walk easily. She’d never
discover us...

Her face flamed at her unsettling thoughts,
and something in her expression made Matthew pause and look at her
with extra intensity. “Not my night then?”

“Absolutely not. Whatever made you think it
would be?” She held her breath at the outrageous challenge she’d
thrown him.

“The small matter of that kiss,” he said,
raising a hand and running a finger along her cheekbone and
delicately around the curl of her ear.

“I should have slapped your face. Or moved to
that empty seat.”

“But you didn’t, Katie. You left me with a
little bit of hope. Just like you’re doing now.”

“Hope for what?” she demanded, pushing at his
hand too late. Oh, she was making a real mess of this. She should
have flounced off in a temper; shown him she wanted nothing to do
with him. Something held her there though. Attracted as a moth to a
flame.

“Hope that you might finally be relaxing and
starting to enjoy your time with us.” He caught her hand in his
much larger one and turned her so she was obliged to step through
into the hallway. “With
me
.”

“Of course I’m enjoying it,” she protested.
“The house is beautiful. Lottie is a real pleasure to know—even if
she caught me unawares by expecting I’d pose for her.”

“But I don’t get a mention?” His mercurial
eyes pinned her in place.

“Why would you expect a mention? All you’ve
done so far is tease me and make fun of me. Draw me while I was
practically naked and couldn’t move...” She glared at him. “I’d
like those drawings of me returned please. Where have you put
them?”

“We’ll worry about those tomorrow. Right now,
I need to check on Lottie, as you’ve so dutifully reminded me. If I
really can’t tempt you to the spa?”

“No, you can’t. I’ve already said that. And
don’t think I’ve forgotten about those sketches.” She pulled away,
and Matthew let go of her hand with apparent reluctance. “Good
night,” she added, somewhat more graciously. “Thank you for the
movie.”

“Sleep well then.”

Not a chance.

But eventually, of course, after what felt
like a whole night of frustrated wide-awake tossing, she did fall
gently asleep. And between the fine cotton sheets, under the
lightest goose-down quilt, in the deeply luxurious bed, he was
there. Everywhere in her dreams, he was there.

In the spa-pool again, taking outrageous
liberties with her body.

At the movies, where her panties seemed to
have disappeared, and he knew.

In the car, which had suddenly grown plenty
big enough for him to lower his tall body over hers, entering her,
sliding provocatively until her body clenched around his and she
shrieked with the jolting, searing sensations that he summoned.

“Katie?”

She lurched bolt upright in bed.

“What were you muttering about? I couldn’t
quite hear.”

Oh God, oh God, oh God. Thank heavens he
couldn’t!

“It’s a great morning. Tea or coffee?” He
crossed to the window and drew the thick curtains aside. A shaft of
sunlight spilled across the floor.

Kate had been deep asleep, dreaming vividly,
hot with wanting. She turned her flushed and confused face up as he
approached the bed again, and jerked the covers to her chin. “Don’t
you ever knock?”

“Twice. You must have been dead to the
world.”

She gazed at him sleepily, narrowing her eyes
against the light, and willing her heart to stop its frantic
thumping.

Matthew grinned. “Sorry if I woke you. But
it’s a fantastic day, and it’s almost nine o’clock. We need to buy
that dress, and then I thought I’d fly you down to Milford for
lunch.”

“Milford Sound?”

“Where else? There’ll be marvellous views of
the mountains today.”

Kate swallowed. “Coffee, thanks.”

Oh, this was ridiculous! This was way out of
her league. He’d suggested a flight in a private plane as though it
was a bus ride around town. Preceded by a nerve-jangling shopping
trip where he’d play sugar daddy again.

“I’m supposed to be helping Lottie,” she
tried.

“She’s gone out with some painting
friends—miles off toward Glen Orchy. There’s no stopping her,” he
added when Kate exclaimed with distress. “They’ll look after her,”
he threw over his shoulder as he turned to retrieve a laden tray
from the hallway. Tea and coffee pots. Sleek white crockery. A warm
Danish pastry. Three huge strawberries. He set it on the nearby
chest.

Kate blinked at the selection. “Is this
breakfast?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t know what you’d
want. Lottie always likes a couple of biscuits with her first drink
of the day.”

“Crumbs in the bed,” Kate said.

“Fate worse than death,” he added, and they
dissolved into unexpected laughter together.

He poured the coffee she requested, then
filled the second cup for himself, ignoring the comfortable
armchair by the window and sitting companionably on the end of the
bed. “Di’s suggested a suitably expensive shop for the party
dress,” he said. “And some of the hotels have very good boutiques.
We can try anywhere you like.”

Kate sat up and tucked the sheet firmly
around her breasts to shield them from his very interested eyes. “I
wouldn’t have a clue,” she said eying him over the rim of her cup
as she sipped the strong smoky coffee. He wore blue jeans and a
navy sweatshirt with no visible layer beneath. A small expanse of
tanned skin teased her where the sweatshirt dipped in front. It was
the most casually dressed she’d seen him, but he still looked a
force to be reckoned with.

Some men just had it. Matthew had it—whatever
it was. Even in the most basic clothes, slouched on a bed, he
looked like he could take on the world and win. Add the private
plane, the incredible house, the classy car, and it was still the
man who intrigued her the most, though.

“Why did you kiss me like that at the
cinema?” she blurted, horrified to hear her words aloud when she’d
meant only to turn the question around in her mind.

He smiled very slightly. “I haven’t taken a
pretty girl to the movies in ages.”

“That’s not an answer,” she pressed. Okay,
she’d already put her foot in it—she might as well totally demolish
herself. There was nothing left to lose now.

“Couldn’t resist you.”

She held his eyes with hers. “So why did you
stop?” she asked less bravely.

She’d invented a dozen reasons.
Because
one kiss was all I wanted. Because I’d got you. Because you didn’t
fight me off. Because of Lottie.
Which would he choose?

“Because a crowded cinema’s not the right
place for what I had in mind.”

Kate dropped her gaze. What an arrogant
son-of-a-bitch he was. So sure of himself—and sure of her too,
apparently.

She exhaled quietly, hoping to hide the
tension that had made her hold her breath. “I felt what you had in
mind. Much too hopeful of you, I thought.”

He snarled—laughing, deliberate—like a
cartoon tiger. Then stood, placed his cup on the tray and left her
alone in her room.

Far too slowly, her blood pressure subsided
toward something near normal. Well, she’d be safe enough in the
boutique with him. Annoyed maybe, but safe.

He could hardly make a play for her while
piloting the plane.

And Milford Sound was such a tourist
attraction there’d be hundreds of people there to prevent any
dangerous privacy. Even though Lottie would be out of the picture,
today shouldn’t be too perilous.

Kate swung her legs out of bed and stepped
barefoot across the deep carpet to take a stinging, steaming
shower. If only she could wash
him
off with soap...

What should she wear for trying on party
gowns and flying over the Southern Alps? The raspberry leather
jacket seemed suitable for flying. She teamed it with jeans, her
new walking boots, and a cosy cream angora cardigan. Sharon had
persuaded her to buy the matching scarf and ski-cap. She decided to
take them in case it was cold in the small plane. It was certainly
frosty outside, even though the sun now cast long hard shadows and
brilliant slides of light over everything.

The delicious aroma of bacon floated toward
her as she drew closer to the kitchen. She’d enjoyed her Danish and
the strawberries, but the savoury tang still turned her taste-buds
on. She claimed a couple of rashers from the grill tray and joined
Matthew at the table, folding them into a slice of whole-wheat
bread to make an impromptu sandwich.

Minutes later, they set off for Queenstown in
the SUV—Matthew again driving slowly because of the slippery
roads.

The ‘suitably expensive shop’ had some
dazzling dresses, but nothing quite as wine-red and low-backed as
Kate had imagined. She declined to try anything on.

But at the first hotel boutique they struck
lucky. Matthew lifted a hanger off the rack with a jubilant laugh.
A slim black dress. But with a slippery dark red facing across the
fitted bodice that ran down to a waist-deep V at the back. And
repeated around the hip-high slash in the skirt. Definitely a dress
for a woman with high breasts, long legs and a smooth spine. Kate’s
mouth watered.

He swooped it up over his other arm and
presented it to her. She checked the size, inclined her head
graciously, and disappeared into the changing room.

“When do we get to see it?” he called after a
while.

“When I’m ready,” Kate grunted. She’d had to
unlace the boots to get her jeans off, and the struggle was taking
time.

A minute or two later she flipped the curtain
aside and stepped out. Her striped socks didn’t help the total
look, but the dress was perfection. It clung and hung in all the
right places, totally decent, but leaving very little to the
imagination.

Matthew rose from his chair and examined her
closely.

She performed a slow turn for him. It was a
dream of a dress—she knew she’d never find anything better. He
reached out and ran a finger across her back, tweaking one of the
slender straps that supported the bodice.

“You’ll have to take your bra off an hour or
so before you put it on,” he said. “Nice back, Katie—but not with
elastic marks across it.”

Was that the best he could manage? Was it
even a compliment? She whirled around to face him, claws at the
ready, searching for the perfect pithy reply. He grinned broadly,
knowing he’d won that point.

Kate stilled. She took a deep breath,
watching his silvery eyes as they settled on her breasts. She slid
her long creamy thigh provocatively through the satin-edged slit of
the skirt. His gaze followed. Kate laughed inwardly, twitched the
skirt back into place and waltzed in triumph back to the fitting
room.
Gotcha.

“Bring your boots out here,” he called a
little later. The curtain stopped a little shy of the floor—no
doubt he’d seen her jeans were now on and the boots still off.

She pushed the fabric aside and lifted her
hair up to free it from inside the jacket collar. “Why bring the
boots out?”

“So I can do them up properly for you.” His
eyes still roved over her hair.

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