The Playboy's Baby. Mary Lyons
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world appeared suddenly to explode and disintegrate about them, in shattered fragments of light and power.
When Samantha next opened her eyes, it was to discover bright sunshine flooding through the gauzy bedroom curtains, and Matt’s dark head on the pillow beside her.
Careful not to disturb his sleeping form, she eased herself carefully out of bed, before padding silently across the room towards the bathroom. As she had hoped, there was a large white towelling robe hanging on the back of the door. It dwarfed her slim body, of course, but after slipping it on and brushing her teeth with the aid of a brand-new toothbrush, which she’d found in the bathroom cabinet, Samantha decided that she now felt able to face the day.
Locating the kitchen proved to be a more difficult operation. It really was a huge apartment Quite apart from the awful, over-decorated main sitting room, there seemed to be at least two other bedroom suites, and a large study-cum-library.
Luckily, it looked as if his ex-girlfriend, the mad interior designer, had managed to get at least one room right. Standing just inside the door, she gazed around at the walls lined with books, their polished leather bindings in brown, red and green adding a warm glow to the severely masculine lines of a huge mahogany desk, covered in green leather chased in gold, with its matching green leather swivel chair set on a dark grey carpet.
It was clearly a room devoted to quiet, peaceful contemplation, either reading in one of the large, comfortable leather chairs beside the grey marble fireplace, or working at the desk. In fact, it could have been an eighteenth-century gentleman’s refuge, were it not for the black telephone, fax and modern laptop computer neatly positioned on the desk.
Feeling slightly ashamed of giving another quick glance around the room—well. Matt might have had a photo of his ex-girlfriend still lying around—Samantha firmly pulled herself together, and continued her search for the kitchen.
When she finally tracked it down, she was relieved to note that the large room was a purely functional one.
So, OK, the very modern decor—which mainly consisted of glass, and a mass of stainless steel over light oak-coloured floorboards—wasn’t everyone’s taste. But, since she had no problem with the cool Scandinavian style, she felt perfectly at home. And she was absolutely crazy about the enormous fridge, deeply envious of a piece of equipment which seemed designed to do just about everything except whistle a tune.
In fact, having poured herself some orange juice, she was just experimenting with its ice-making machine, when she nearly jumped out of her skin to hear Matt’s voice just behind her.
‘Good morning, darling. I was just wondering what had happened to my dressing gown,’ he murmured, laughing as she gave a shriek, spilling half the ice cubes on to the floor as she spun around to face him.
‘For heaven’s sake!’ she gasped, quickly bending down to clear up the mess around his bare feet.
‘Now... that’s what I like to see. A woman who knows her place. Which, in this case, appears to be on her knees in the kitchen, before her lord and master. Keep up the good work, Sam!’
‘Dream on—O Mighty One!’ she retorted with a snort of derisory laughter, gathering up the last ice cubes and rising to her feet.
‘Ah, well...bang goes one of my favourite fantasies,’ he drawled with a sardonic grin. ‘So, I guess it’s back to the real world, hmm?’
‘Damn right!’ she muttered nervously, evading his eyes as she walked over to the trash can.
She might have pinched his towelling robe, but she did wish he could have found something else to wear, other than that very short towel, wrapped so tightly about his slim hips. Because just at this moment it was desperately important that she keep her wits about her.
While exploring his enormous apartment,, she hadn’t been able to prevent her mind from see-sawing back and forth, trying to sort out a mass of confused emotions.
Matt had proved to be a warm and generous lover—as well as firmly declaring his deep feelings for her. But she wasn’t a starry-eyed young girl any more. And she knew that, while it was easy enough to make promises, and whisper sweet nothings during the height of passion, that same passion had a way of cooling right down to vanishing point in the cold light of day.
More importantly, she wasn’t into one-night stands. There had been a time, in the immediate and unhappy aftermath of the breakdown of her marriage, when she’d been stupid enough to think that having sex would provide some sort of comfort. But it had only taken one unfortunate encounter for her to realise that was a total fallacy. So, it was no good getting too starry-eyed. She might regard last night as a totally magical experience. But, as far as Matt was concerned, it might well have proved to be nothing more than a very pleasant diversion.
‘Here, let me dry your fingers,’ he murmured, walking across the kitchen and firmly wiping her hands with a thick kitchen towel, before placing his arms about her nervous figure.
‘Now...I think it’s about time I had a good-morning kiss, don’t you?’ he continued, before pressing his lips to hers.
The sweetness and warmth of his mouth was wonderfully reassuring, and she savoured the strength of the arms clasping her to the dark hair of his bare chest; her nostrils filled with the cool, astringent scent of his aftershave.
‘Incidentally...’ he murmured, slowly raising his dark head and regarding her with a faintly quizzical gleam in his green eyes. ‘Just in case you have any doubts about my intentions... I meant everything I said last night.’
‘Really?’
‘Really and truly—cross my heart and hope to die!’ he murmured, both of them smiling at his use of the solemn childhood vow.
‘I’m not going to beat about the bush, Sam. We’re both sensible adults, and I’m sure you must recognise, as well as I do, that what we have going between us is something very special. And, yes, I know that I hurt you very badly in the past,’ he added as she stirred restlessly in his arms. ‘But I had no choice. Not with the university authorities breathing down my neck. Not to mention the obvious fact that you were so young—with the whole world in front of you. Believe me, there was no way we could continue our affair.’
‘Yes...I can see that now. Although, at the time...’
‘At the time, I behaved like a callous brute,’ he admitted sadly, his lips tightening in self-disgust as he glimpsed the brief flicker of recollection and pain in her blue eyes.
‘But it’s all quite different now. We have to let go of the past, because just about everything has changed,’ he continued. ‘Everything, that is, except our very strong attraction for one another. We’re both now fully grown up, and although we lead frantically busy lives—we can do it. We can make our affair work this time round. In fact, since it only takes four hours to cross the Atlantic by Concorde, I’m going to make damn certain that it does work!’
As she gazed up into the deeply hooded green eyes staring down at her so intently, Samantha realised that if she hadn’t yet quite managed to sort out all her emotional feelings for this man he was quite right about letting go of the past
After all, she was a lot older and wiser. There was no way he could ever hurt her again—or cause her to suffer those agonising pangs of first love. All that was water under the bridge. Besides, he’d made it crystal-clear that he was talking about an affair—which meant no total commitment on either side.
You can handle it, she told herself firmly. You’re a modern woman, and fully in charge of your emotions, nowadays. Besides, as he’d said, they both had very busy careers.
Making love with Matt was truly wonderful, stupendous—and just about any other glowing adjective she could think of—but it was only one part of her life. Her career was vitally important to her, and she wasn’t about to give it up for any man—even if he was the sexiest thing on two legs!
So, what was there to worry about? She certainly