“Wedding,” she repeated dazedly.
“It’d be much less fuss, probably quicker, too, getting married in a register office, but I know women like weddings. I wouldn’t do you out of one.”
He pulled her along with him and she let him.
Her mind told her it was utter madness.
She should go back to the health farm and try to sort herself out because she seemed to be in a helpless muddle. But he held her hand, pouring an irresistible energy into it, and her body had a will of its own. It wanted to go with him. It did.
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 an
d 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.”