CHAPTER SEVEN

      THIS was getting ridiculous, Matt thought, struggling to pay attention to what his advisors were saying. He was in the middle of a discussion about the huge gaps in the public accounts and all he could think about was what Laura was up to.

      He hadn’t laid eyes on her in the two weeks since she’d been hired. Not that he’d been looking out for her especially. No. He’d had far too much to do. But it did seem odd. The palace might be big but it wasn’t that large.

      In a weird way her absence simply made him more aware of her presence. Which didn’t make any sense at all.

      Maybe it was the knowledge that he’d overreacted again and undoubtedly owed her another apology. Snapping at her like that to stay out of his way, snapping at anyone for that matter, wasn’t how he chose to behave.

      But then since he’d met her a lot of his behaviour had been uncharacteristic. If it carried on much longer his reputation for being tough and uncompromising would lie in tatters.

      What was it about her that set him so on edge? Why did he have this niggling feeling that she was some kind of a threat? A threat to what exactly? In his experience threats came from rival bidders for a company he wanted and from despotic former presidents with their hands in the till. They did not come from curvy blond-haired blue-eyed architects.

      Matt shoved his hands through his hair and let out a growl of frustration. Whatever the hell was going on, it couldn’t continue.

      He’d start with the apology. The sooner he got that out of the way, the better. And then he’d take the opportunity to find out a little more about her.

      Something about the sabbatical she’d claimed she was on, the way she’d avoided his eyes when she’d mentioned it, had been gnawing at his brain. Whatever it was, she was working for him and he should get to the bottom of it.

      And that was another thing, he realised suddenly. His company employed dozens of permanent staff and he’d always made a point of getting to know every one of them. Now Laura was on his payroll and what did he know about her? Apart from what she felt like in his arms and wrapped around him, precious little.

      Matt ignored the bolt of heat that gripped his body and set his jaw. In fact that was probably what had been bothering him. The non-observation of formalities.

      ‘Sir?’

      He snapped his head round to his secretary who was sitting on his right and refocused his attention. ‘What?’ he said, and added a quick smile to mitigate the sharpness of his tone.

      ‘I hope you don’t mind my asking, but is everything all right?’

      ‘Fine. What does Signorina Mackenzie do for lunch?’

      The only indication that Antonio Capelli was surprised by a question about lunch in the midst of a conversation about corruption was a double blink. ‘I believe she takes a sandwich to the rose garden.’

      A sandwich? Matt’s jaw tightened. No one could survive on a sandwich. ‘What time?’

      ‘One-ish, I believe. Would you like me to check?’

      ‘No, that’s fine. Where’s the rose garden?’

      ‘Past the kitchen gardens. Before the lake. There’s a gate in the hedge.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      Matt made a move to get to his feet but Antonio leaned forwards and said, ‘The advisors are waiting for your comments.’

      About what? Oh, yes. Now that he’d fixed the Laura problem he snapped his attention back to the discussion with thankfully familiar ease. ‘How much is missing?’

      ‘Approximately fifty million,’ said one of the finance advisors.

      Pushing his chair back, he stood, planted his hands on the table and said, ‘Trace the money. I suggest you start with Switzerland. When you find out who’s responsible, arrest them.’

      Laura finished off the last of her cheese sandwich and brushed the crumbs off her skirt. Breathing in the heady scent of roses, she sighed with pleasure. She’d stumbled on this little slice of heaven the day she’d arrived back with all her things, and, absolutely certain that it was one place Matt, or anyone else for that matter, would never visit, she’d made a habit of having lunch here, followed by half an hour of sunbathing before getting back to work.

      The weather was gorgeous, the work was absorbing, and Matt and his disturbing effect on her composure were nowhere to be seen. What could be better?

      Laura stood up, unzipped her overalls and pushed them down to her waist. Then she lay down on the grass, closed her eyes as the sun hit her bare skin and basked in the warmth.

      This was so the life.

      She was in the middle of a particularly lovely daydream in which she was picking up a RIBA European award for her work on the palace when she heard the squeaking of the gate.

      Her heart jumped. Her ears pricked. And caught another squeak. Swiftly followed by a sharp intake of breath and a muttered curse.

      Her pulse racing, Laura jackknifed up. Grabbed the sides of her overalls and clutched them to her chest. She twisted round. And nearly passed out.

      Matt was standing just inside the gate, frozen to the spot, staring down at her, his face set, but his eyes blazing.

      Laura swallowed and felt a raging blush hit her cheeks. Too late to hope that he hadn’t seen her semi-naked. OK, so she was at least wearing her bra, which was something to be thankful for, but the muscle hammering in his jaw and the tension in his body told her that he’d seen more than enough.

      ‘You scared the life out of me,’ she snapped, aiming for control by channelling her mortification into accusation.

      ‘Next time I’ll knock,’ he said hoarsely, turning away so she could get her clothes in order.

      ‘At least this time I’m not in danger of banging my head,’ she muttered as she thrust her arms into the sleeves and whipped up the zip. Just passing out with overheating. Matt creeping up on her had better not become a habit.

      Springing to her feet, Laura