CHAPTER EIGHT
DYNAMITE! No doubt about it, Matt thought exultantly, his body still zinging from the explosion of sensation. He was on Cloud Nine as he walked Peta Kelly to the village pub, amazed that he’d reached the age of thirty-three and never felt like this before, so incredibly, exuberantly alive and bursting with anticipation for more and more of the woman walking beside him, her hand snugly held in his.
He’d never really believed his father’s tale of meeting Matt’s mother and deciding to marry her on the very same day. Too simple, he’d thought dismissively, even cynically. It was undoubtedly a romantic rendering of the past. Marriage was too serious a business to decide upon so quickly. But he now understood how it could happen. All the right bells were ringing, telling him unequivocally that Peta Kelly was the one woman who’d make his life complete.
Thank God both Skye and Janelle had gone on their way, leaving him waiting for this! Not that he’d ever actually proposed marriage to either of them, just skirted around the subject, thinking of it as a possible extension of their relationship, more a rational playing with the idea—weighing pros and cons—than a compulsive desire to hold on to them forever. Nevertheless, he might have made a big mistake with either one of them and never known this feeling, this nerve-tingling sense of absolute rightness.
Peta Kelly was the one, just as his mother had been for his father. She might think it was a crazy impulse, proposing marriage out of nowhere, so to speak, but Matt knew he wasn’t crazy. Many times in business situations, the right bells had rung for him, telling him to grasp the opportunity, ride the wave, pursue a certain course. It had happened with key employees, too, some extra sense insisting this person would do the job better than any other. Matt had learnt never to ignore his instincts. Much of his company’s success had ridden on them.
No way was he about to ignore them now.
He wasn’t crazy. He’d been absorbing everything about Peta all day, unable to think of anything else. The Latin lover had muddied their intercourse but that had been dealt with. Matt was confident they could go forward now. Peta was with him. She hadn’t slapped him down or walked away. She was still with him. He hoped it meant what he wanted it to mean.
They entered the pub. Matt had forgotten how cold it was outside until warm air enveloped them, drawing them into the cosy atmosphere engendered by a huge log fire. He ushered Peta to a table near the friendly heat and saw her seated, reluctantly releasing her hand.
“What will you have?” he asked.
Her eyes looked huge and slightly vacant. Matt hoped she was overwhelmed by the same feelings coursing through him. It was difficult to concentrate on anything else.
“Beer, brandy, gin...” he helped.
“Yes. Gin. And tonic,” she decided somewhat vaguely.
“Won’t be a minute,” he promised.
Matt strode to the bar, eager to get served and back to Peta as fast as he could. Fortunately the pub was fairly quiet and the bartender immediately obliged him. He ordered two gin and tonics since beer on his breath might not be desirable in these promising circumstances.
As the drinks were poured Matt eyed his surroundings with rather wry appreciation. Not exactly the place he would normally envisage for a marriage proposal, but probably no one would consider his proposal normal. He knew it was right for him. Somehow he had to make it right for Peta, too. And very possibly, this fine old country pub added a down-to-earth normality that would help his cause.
He liked the time-honoured features of the place—no temporary plastic furniture or throwaway posters—lots of old polished wood and brass, stained glass in the windows, historic photographs on the walls, mellow lamps, some quite impressive antique pieces giving a sense of lasting solidity.
It was what Matt wanted in a marriage...lasting solidity. Like his parents. Until death do us part. Though he hoped he wouldn’t die as young as his father had. Only fifty-eight.
Just as well he’d decided to stop smoking today. A family man had responsibilities, not least of which was to take care of himself so he’d be around for as long as a father was needed by his kids. Given four children, reasonably spaced, the youngest would only be eighteen when he was fifty-eight. Clearly there was no time to be wasted in getting Peta to agree to their marriage.
Seize the day, Matt thought as he paid the bartender, then picked up their glasses and headed back to the woman he wanted as his wife. His hormones had steered him absolutely right in driving him to seize her on the way here. It had resolved everything in his mind. In fact, he could hardly wait to seize her again. The walk back to the health farm loomed as a highly desirable exercise.
Peta seemed to be lost in some private reverie, unaware of anything around her. “Your gin and tonic,” he said, planting the drink firmly on the table in front of her. It jolted her into focusing her eyes on him. She stared, as though seeing him for the first time and finding him worthy of close study.
Matt took the chair opposite hers at the table, careful not to crowd her and wanting her in his direct line of vision. Easy eye contact helped for positive persuasion. There was obviously much going on in her mind and he wasn’t sure she was as convinced as he about their having a future together. He was used to making hard and fast decisions. Her judgment might be clouded by the mistake she’d made over the guy in Rome.
He smiled, projecting warm encouragement and approval. “I’m glad we got that sorted out.”
She shook her head, her expression turning wary. “I don’t think we’ve sorted out anything.”
Obviously some positive thinking had to be stimulated. “Of course we have,” Matt assured her, then ticked the points off on his fingers for her. “I’m not like your Latin lover. I’m an eligible bachelor with the best of intentions. We’re extremely well suited. We’re both ready to get married and start a family. There are no impediments to doing precisely that and the sooner we do it the better.”
He could have added he had never been so sexually aroused by any other woman and he was envisaging an exciting length of time where she wore no pants at all, but he thought logic might work better for him at this point. He would reinforce the passion between them later.
“But I don’t love you,” she said, her beautiful blue eyes wavering under the certainty he was beaming at her.
Love... Matt’s thought pattern was severely jolted, the emotional pull of that one word disrupting his straight-line plan of action.
What was love anyway? Something that grew out of passion, liking, respect. It would happen, he told himself. Besides, love didn’t guarantee a future together. Her own experience should be telling her that. Where had love got her in the very recent past? Down the drain!
She needed some guidance on the more practical aspects of marriage—the real living together, not the hearts and flowers stuff which was ephemeral anyway. If she’d been actually living in Rome she wouldn’t have been fooled for so long.
“‘With my body, I thee wed,’” he quoted at her, “and we’ve sure got the right chemistry for that to be a mutual pleasure. No denying the spark’s there. We’ve got plenty to build on, Peta.”
Hot colour shot into her cheeks, giving them a glow that rivalled the brilliant shine of her hair. Her eyelashes fluttered down. She picked up her drink. “I don’t think that’s enough to build a marriage on,” she muttered and took temporary refuge in sipping the gin and tonic.
“You’re right Goodwill and mutual goals and a sense of commitment are more important,” he said emphatically. “Half the world does very well with arranged marriages where such things are established beforehand. Love doesn’t enter into them at all.”
“I hardly know you,” she cried, her inner agitation showing as she swirled her drinking straw around the ice cubes in her glass.
“Did you know the man who deceived you for two years?” he countered and instantly regretted the words as pain flashed across her face. Damn it! He didn’t want to remind her of him, though she did need to appreciate knowledge came in provable facts, not just feelings. He’d already totted up in his mind quite a résumé on her life and background, just as she should have done on him by now.
“Peta...this can be a clean slate for both of us,” he pressed gently, wanting to mitigate the hurt. “There’s no need to bring bad emotional baggage from the past into the future we make for ourselves. We care about the same things. We can share them.”
It caught her attention. She was with him again.
Eager to appease her doubts and fears, he asked, “What do you need to know?” willing to supply her with any information she required in coming to view a future with him more favourably.
His life was a fairly open book, no skeletons to worry about. His secretary could probably list a few faults but he wouldn’t be human if he didn’t have some. Skye and Janelle could undoubtedly list a few more—women being women. However, all relationships worked on give and take and compromise. Marriage was no different. It was just longer on commitment.
The ice cubes clinked continually as Peta considered the need-to-know question. Matt didn’t hurry her. Assessing him in the light of a possible husband was probably a big step for her and needed appropriate consideration. Fortunately, the groundwork had already been laid. He couldn’t be dismissed as an inadequate breadwinner. His health was good. They had similar values, much in common, and their wedding night shouldn’t hold any fears, not after that kiss.
Her gaze shifted, fastening on his hands, one curled lightly around his glass, the other resting on the table near it. Was she remembering his touch on her breast, the way she’d responded? He sat very still, not wanting to distract her, conscious of his own pulse picking up tempo as erotic images played through his mind. Peta Kelly had the sexiest body he’d ever felt. And her mouth... As though her thoughts were attuned to his, her lashes lifted enough for her to focus on his mouth.
Matt was glad of the cover given him by the table. His heart pumped so hard it sent a rush of stirring blood to his groin. Keeping still was almost beyond him. He curled both hands tightly around his glass to stop himself from reaching out to her. The urge to leap up and haul her into his embrace again was close to irresistible.
“What you’re putting to me...” she said slowly, her gaze lifting, sharply concentrated now as her eyes scanned his, “...is a marriage of convenience.”
“Yes. Why not?” If she wanted to think of it like that, Matt didn’t mind, as long as she was thinking of them being together. “Save us both from wasting more time,” he pointed out, hunting for backup arguments. “I don’t want to be an old dad. And I can’t imagine anyone I’d like more as the mother of my children. Fine genes,” he added for good measure.
It drew a wry smile. “Yours don’t look so bad, either.”
He grinned. “Consider me a sperm bank.”
She sighed. “It’s not that simple, is it? There is the matter of living together.”
“Reasonable people can always find a way,” he argued. Caring hearts also helped, he thought. Peta no more liked to hurt people than he did. The sense of fairness that had driven her to come after him tonight was very heartening. He could deal with that.
“And for all you seem very virile, you might fire blanks.”
“What?”
“Have you fathered any children?”
Matt recovered from the shock of having his potency doubted. “I’m not an irresponsible sower of oats,” he declared strongly.
She shrugged. “Just checking. If we should enter a marriage for the purpose of having children...”
“Okay. We’ll have tests done first. Sensible idea,” he approved, though he didn’t feel like being sensible where Peta Kelly was concerned. He didn’t want her to back out. There would be no reason to, he swiftly assured himself. His father had certainly sired him. Why shouldn’t he be successful in the paternity stakes?
“I don’t suppose you can ever be really sure,” she mused. “Some couples try for years to have a baby...”
“That won’t happen to us,” Matt cut in decisively. Some guys had a low sex drive. He certainly wasn’t one of them. With Peta, he’d have no problem working overtime on getting her pregnant.
She recognised the simmering gleam in his eyes and laughed self-consciously. “It’s crazy even talking about this.”
“It makes sense to me,” he insisted.
She frowned, sipped more of her drink, then shook her head. “We only met today.”
“How long does it take to recognise a great chance?”
Her eyes flirted uncertainly with his. “I couldn’t marry you without a prenuptial agreement.”
It was Matt’s turn to frown. Money...divorce...he recoiled from both of those subjects. Surely with her background—parents still married to each other—she’d work at the same kind of lasting power. Or weren’t her parents happy together? Good example or bad example?
Suddenly aware he didn’t have knowledge he needed, Matt simply asked, “What do you want in it?”
“That if we don’t have children, I have no claim on any property I didn’t bring into the marriage.” She leaned forward, pressing an appeal for understanding. “I’m not a gold-digger, Matt. If we got divorced, I wouldn’t try to take you for...”
“Fine!” he agreed, pleased with her strong sense of integrity. The money issue was definitely dead and a childless marriage would be reason for divorce. Even churches granted annulments on those grounds. Matt had no hesitation in saying, “If that will make you feel better, we’ll do it.” Besides, he’d have Peta pregnant so fast, the prenuptial agreement would be null and void almost as soon as it was signed.
She sat back, relieved. A little smile began playing on her lips. “You really want four children?” she asked, the possibility of her dreams being answered pushing eagerness through caution.
“Yes, I do.” He couldn’t help smiling, relief and triumph soaring through him. “I’m sure I’d be a great dad, too.”
She laughed, then retreated again in confusion at her response to him. “This has to be pie in the sky.”
Matt reached across the table and seized her left hand, his thumb deliberately marking the third finger. “I could buy you an engagement ring tomorrow. Would that make it real to you?”
She looked wonderingly at him, realising he was serious about it and unsure how to take it or what to do. Matt took great encouragement from the fact she didn’t try to withdraw her hand. He held on to it, his fingers grazing across her soft palm, loving the touch of her skin.
“Pretend for now it is pie in the sky,” he suggested. “Given that the law requires us to wait a month before we can get married, tell me how you’d like to proceed. Do you favour a diamond engagement ring? A sapphire to match your eyes? What kind of wedding would you like? Where would you like to go on your honeymoon?”
“Matt...” She was about to protest.
“Go on. Just for fun. No harm in talking.”
She sighed, venting tension. “Just for fun then,” she agreed.
Matt worked hard at making it fun as he drew her out on her dreams. He wanted Peta Kelly. He was going to win her. If he couldn’t bulldose her into marriage, he’d seduce her into it, one way or another.