Kate: A Universal Truth (A Wish for Love Series Book 1) (8 page)

BOOK: Kate: A Universal Truth (A Wish for Love Series Book 1)
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No, she would not borrow her friend's expensive clothes any more.  Matthew would have to face the real Kate Evans and not the glamorous woman he had met at an Oxford concert and at a ball hosted by barons.  She remembered his jaded voice as he said to John in the restaurant: 'it was hard to distinguish much of her behind those shapeless clothes and that ridiculous hat.  I can't see myself being even remotely interested in her'.  At the time his words fell on her indifferent ears but now she felt enraged.  She would not get dressed up for him.  She couldn't help the small smile of satisfaction that stole to her lips when she thought of his expression as he saw her in her own clothes.  He had probably reserved places at an expensive restaurant and would feel embarrassed to be seen in the company of a woman so plainly dressed. 

 

Chapter Seven

 

He arrived on the dot of eight and when Kate opened the door she was, for a moment, completely dumbfounded.  She looked at him, her eyes betraying her mixed feelings.  Surprise, consternation, delight.

“You look surprised.  Weren't you expecting me?”

“Yes of course, but...”

“But what?”

“Nothing,” she whispered while appraising his outfit, finally meeting his eyes.

“I don't mind standing out here all night, but it really isn't polite to leave a guests on the doorstep.” 

Kate pulled herself together. “I'm sorry.  Come in.  I'll be ready in a minute.”  She led him to the living room and after mumbling a few more words of apology she rushed to disappear in her room.  The truth was she had been ready for over half an hour but she needed a few minutes alone.

She sat on the bed and stared at the wall.  Did he have a magic mirror?  How could he know she wouldn't get dressed up for the date?  He had to know or he would never have dressed the way he did.  And what would have happened if she had gotten dressed up as she felt he expected her to?  In that case she would not have been able to overcome her chagrin.  Despite the turmoil of her thoughts she could not help but think that Matthew Camedon was unlike everyone else.  He was one of a kind.

Kate took a deep breath and entered the living room.  Matthew, sitting in a corner of the sofa and leafing through a journal, rose to his feet and Kate felt her heart race.  He was wearing jeans that hugged his hips and waist in the sexiest possible way and a black wool shirt was stretched over his broad shoulders and muscular chest.  Only now did Kate really notice the perfection of his body.  He did not look like your average English lord.  More like a movie star.  It must be, she thought, the Spanish blood that gave him that sensuous and sensational look.

“Do you like it?”  He grinned and she saw the depression at the edge of his lips.

“What?” she asked attempting to look indifferent.

He laughed.  It was a deep, virile laugh. Kate couldn't believe her ears.  He raised his hand and stroked her cheek. Kate became suddenly aware of how close he stood.  She wanted to retreat but his hand, moving imperceptibly, wound around her neck and under the hair gathered at the nape, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin under her ear.  He lowered his eyes until they reached her lips.  He inclined his head slightly forward and Kate was sure he was about to kiss her.  She smelled the fresh, clean scent.

“Me,” he said unruffled, his lips only inches away from hers, “do you like me?”

“Well, I…” she whispered helplessly, “I don't know,” she concluded forlornly.

Matthew lowered his hand and drew away.  There was an odd expression on his face but he did not insist on prolonging this intimate conversation, a conversation that had advanced far too fast for Kate's taste.

“Come, I'm famished.  I hope you like pasta.”

“I love Italian cooking,” she assured him.

Matthew's eyes watched Kate as she turned off all the lights and picked up her handbag.

“Allow me,” he said and took the bag.  Kate did not object.  She knew he would pay no attention to any protest she might voice. An Aston-Martin was parked in front of the building.  Matthew opened the door and waited politely until she seated herself.  Kate thanked him silently for not taking the opportunity to touch her and breathed deeply to inhale the smell of the leather.  Matthew sat beside her and started the engine.  He pressed a button and a soprano filled the expanse of the car.  She looked at him and he smiled.  “Sound familiar?”

“Villa Lobos?  Bachianas Brasileiras?”

He regarded her fondly.  “Right.  And the singer?” Kate did not know this particular rendition.  The voice sounded familiar but she could not place it.

“Victoria de los Angeles,” he said, and the two listened to the charming aria in silence.

“Who is your favorite composer?” asked Matthew as the last notes faded.

“Bach. He is the only one whose compositions appear to me, without exception, to be the work of a genius.  From the simplest exercises he wrote for his sons' edification, to the most famous pieces."

“You know a great deal about music,” he commented.  “Do you play an instrument?”

“No,” Kate laughed, “I have a good ear and I've learned a great deal from reading and listening to others, but my knowledge is academic.  That's true in all fields.  I can analyze and criticize the creations of others, sometimes even very cleverly, but I can't create a truly original work myself.”

“Not even writing?”

“I don't think so but I must admit I've never tried.  Perhaps one day I'll sit down and try to write a novel.  For the present, at any rate, I don't feel I'm ripe for it.  And you?”

“Do I write?”

Kate laughed again.  “No.  Do you play?”

“I've been playing the piano since I was four.”

Kate wasn't sure why she had expected him to say no.  The image of him running his fingers lightly over the black and white keys was outrageously romantic and she felt the by now familiar warmth spread though her body.

“I met Rebecca today.”

“She told me.  You've acquired another fan.  She doesn't stop talking about you.”

“I like her enormously.”

“I'm glad.  Rebecca needs a friend like you.  She and I have always been close, but growing up in Bellewoodplain she didn't have many friends.  She was a lonely child.”

“Didn't she make friends in school?” Kate asked, thinking back on what Richard Lindsay had told her at the party.

Kate saw Matthew's jaw tighten a moment before he relaxed.  When he spoke, his voice was unemotional.  “Rebecca didn't go to high school like the other girls.  She preferred to be tutored at Bellewoodplain and I respected her wishes.  I made sure she had superior teachers and the finest education in the country.”

“She seems very sociable.”

“She's changed in the last few years.  She's more outgoing, ready to make new friends and goes out with people her age.  The semester in Italy did her a world of good.”

“She told me how you backed her when she wanted to study abroad.”

“I encourage her in whatever she chooses to do.”

“Then she is a lucky girl.”

Kate wondered where he was taking her.  The car wended its way through an elegant residential neighborhood and Kate, who had not paid much attention to their route before, recognized Belgravia Place.  A nagging suspicion began to gnaw.

“Where are we going?”

“To my apartment.”

Kate was at a loss.  How should she react?  Act furious and demand he turn the car around and take her straight to the train station?  Insist they eat out as she had expected?  Feign indifference and unconcern?

He turned into a small street near a rectangular garden filled with trees and parked the car opposite a building ornamented with graceful balconies atop slim columns.  The entire neighborhood was wreathed in an atmosphere of patrician wealth.

He faced her, laying his hand on the back of her seat.  Kate froze in her place.

“Don't be scared.  I don't know if I can behave like a perfect gentleman but I can reassure you that I have never, but never, had to force a woman to give herself to me.  Nothing will happen tonight if you don't want it to happen.”

That, she thought, is precisely the problem.  She had the discomforting feeling he could easily bring her to desire all that he desired.  They were not evenly matched.  He was sure of himself and of his attraction to women, and she was inexperienced.  She had gone out with very few men and aside from Patrick, had never had a meaningful relationship with any man. But was the gulf between them truly so vast?

She had to admit Rebecca was right.  She was as attracted to him as he to her.  What was she to do now?  After a few drawn-out moments Kate decided to allow herself the liberty of being carried away by events.  She was drawn to the snare with the foreknowledge of probable pain and anguish, but she could not resist the bait.  The lure of enjoying, even if for a few hours, the undivided attention of this man.

“I'm not afraid but I expect from you the behavior of a perfect gentleman,” Kate finally replied.

He smiled at her. "I give you my solemn word that I will try to behave as one,” he said and she averted her head, afraid that if she continued to face him she would turn to butter.

A doorman led them through the lobby to an elevator entirely paneled in highly polished wood with buttons of gleaming copper

She had only to step inside the dimly illuminated apartment to feel the instantaneous spell it cast.  The walls were covered with ravishing silk materials.  Magnificent carpets lay on the inlaid parquetry floor and sumptuous velvet curtains were gathered to the side to reveal thinner curtains of antique lace.  The large living room managed to appear intimate and welcoming.  It was easy to imagine an entire family gathered here every evening before dinner.  Scattered about the room were sofas and armchairs upholstered in rich-toned fabrics.  Above an antique cabinet crafted two hundred years ago, an oil painting by Bonnard faced a similar-sized painting by Delacroix.

Matthew, leaning on a chair, allowed Kate to absorb the magnificence of the apartment.  He, in the meantime, was absorbed in Kate.  She looked so pretty in a plain skirt and a blouse.  The silken brown hair was gathered in a knot and he felt an urge to untie the constraining ribbon and run his fingers through the smooth cascade.  Her every movement embodied patrician refinement and her moist lips, now parted in wonderment, made him question his promise not to seduce her.  Even now he could barely restrain himself from sweeping her up in his arms and carrying her off to bed.  He took a deep breath.  It was imperative he be patient.  She had to trust him before she would be ready to give herself.

He found it hard to believe that he, Matthew Camedon, was so considerate of the feelings of a woman he desired.  He always assumed that any woman he made love to would sooner or later be hurt, some more and some less, and long since had learned to overcome any pity he might feel for a particular woman after their affair ended.  But he knew with certainty that if Kate were hurt he would feel extraordinarily bad.

“Come,” he took her hand, “let's eat.”

Instantly Kate felt her body pull taut at Matthew's touch.  His hand was warm and pleasant and the fingers that closed over hers imparted confidence and strength.  Her fingers curled responsively through his.  It was insane of her to come here she thought, she could never resist him.

They crossed the dining room and entered the large, perfectly equipped kitchen.  “Everything is ready.  All we have to do is cook the pasta and heat the sauce.” 

They spent the ensuing quarter hour preparing supper and the scent of the bread and sauce made Kate acutely aware of how hungry she was. 

“I usually buy pasta but today, in your honor, I made the pasta myself.”

“Are you serious?  I'm overwhelmed.  Is there something you can't do?”

“Not much,” he laughed and Kate again felt his warm masculine laugh warming her, blazing a path to her heart.  

“Do you usually cook?”

“Not as often as I'd like.  At Bellewoodplain there's Roget, a marvelous chef, who rules the kitchen with a mighty hand.  If I ever dared step foot in the kitchen to cook he would stop talking to me.  He's very touchy when it comes to his dominion over his small kingdom.  When in London I eat out, and only on rare occasions do I find time to cook.”

I'd be curious to know whether those rare occasions, as he puts it, include spending the night with one of his lovers, Kate reflected.

“You are the first in five years to taste pasta made by my own hand.”

“What an honor.”

He laughed.  “I can't wipe out my past, darling, but I can try to mend my ways in the future.”

Kate wondered just what he meant but decided it would be the better part of wisdom not to encourage this line of conversation. 

“Do we eat here or in the dining room?” The dining room was lovely but struck her as far too large and magnificent for the mood and attire of the two.

“Neither here nor there.  We'll eat in the small dining room.”  He pointed toward a door Kate had not noticed until that moment.  Matthew handed her a basket with warm, fresh bread and she followed him into the room.  The room was dark, lit only by the ray of light from the hall.  He put the pasta down on the table and Kate saw it was set for two.

“Would you bring the wine?  It's on the table in the kitchen.”

Kate went to fetch the wine and when she returned, she gasped.  On the sideboards were candlesticks filled with long candles whose flames spread a soft, dim light.  Kate looked at Matthew and the surroundings disappeared.  Her eyes locked with his and she felt a weakening in her knees.  The depths of his eyes caressed her.  She could not talk or breathe or think or do anything but gape at him.  She took several steps towards him. 

Matthew felt his heartbeat accelerating simultaneously with his exhilaration.  He fought to quell the onrushing tide of passion washing over him.  He had not imagined it would be so difficult to rein himself in.  It was up to him to take control or there would be no meal.  Within seconds she would be in his bed, pleading to receive his love.  The thought made his body stiffen.  She stood before him, her eyes never leaving his.

BOOK: Kate: A Universal Truth (A Wish for Love Series Book 1)
3.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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