Oh, hell, thought Matt, plucking a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter and forcing himself not to down it in one.
What was Laura doing here? He deliberately hadn’t invited her so he must have done something truly horrendous in a past life to deserve this kind of torment, he thought grimly, gripping the glass and muttering some sort of appropriate response to the question he was being asked.
When his gaze had skated over the room and landed on her, everything had seemed to judder to a halt. His heart had thumped and for a split second his head had gone blank. He’d forgotten where he was, what he was doing and more worryingly what he was supposed to be saying.
It had taken every ounce of strength he possessed to drag his gaze from hers and continue his perusal of the room. With every fibre of his being suddenly on fire what he’d really wanted to do was leap off the podium, shove everyone out of the way and drag her off somewhere private.
So much for his famed ruthlessness. He could only hope to God that no one had noticed him falter.
Matt felt his eyes narrow as he watched Laura being wheeled off by his secretary and suspicion began to wind through him. If Antonio had had anything to do with Laura’s presence at the party he could well be finding a new job come the morning.
But never mind, he told himself as they disappeared into the melee. There were five hundred people in the room and there was absolutely no reason why he’d even need to go up to her, let alone have to speak to her.
All he had to do was forget she was there and everything would be fine.
Forgetting Laura was at the party was easier said than done, Matt thought, an agonising hour later.
He might not have had any need to approach her, but that didn’t stop him being aware of every move she made. It didn’t stop him subconsciously manoeuvring himself towards her, and it didn’t stop him wanting to march over and throw out any man she spoke to, smiled at or laughed with. Of which there were far too many.
Running a finger around the inside of his collar, Matt felt uncomfortably hot and weirdly on edge. His muscles actually ached with the effort of keeping his body where it was and his brain hurt with the effort of concentrating on the conversations going on around him.
Unable to help himself, he glanced over to where she was chatting and smiling, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks pink. He caught her eye. She arched an eyebrow, as if she was well aware he was avoiding her, and something inside him snapped.
This was absurd. Trying to ignore her wasn’t working. Why the hell shouldn’t he just go over and say hello? That wouldn’t kill him, would it?
Gritting his teeth, Matt excused himself and started to make his way over to her.
Which wasn’t as easy as it sounded. She was standing only a few metres away, but she might as well have been in a different country. To his intense frustration people kept coming up to him like heat-seeking missiles. Interrupting his trajectory and wanting to have a word.
By the time he finally made it to her, he’d agreed to a dozen things he probably shouldn’t have, and his already stretched-to-the-limit patience was dangerously close to snapping.
It wasn’t helped by the lifted chin or the cool haughty smile she greeted him with. Or the long strapless blue dress she was wearing that matched her eyes and clung everywhere. Did she have any idea how little it left to the imagination?
Matt thrust his hands in his pockets. ‘Good evening,’ he said, his tone far sharper than he’d have liked.
‘Your Majesty,’ she said, dropping into a graceful curtsey.
What the hell? Matt ground his teeth. ‘Don’t do that.’
She rose and gave him a smile that had his heart pounding. ‘Am I doing it wrong?’
‘No.’ She did it very well. Sank so low that he could see straight down the front of her dress. ‘But don’t do it again. Not you.’
She sighed dramatically and pouted. ‘And I spent such a long time practising.’
Matt blinked and tried to keep his eyes out of her cleavage and some sort of grip on his control. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I thought it might be a good idea to see how the ballroom works. From a restoration perspective.’
‘Gatecrashing?’
‘Not at all,’ said Laura coolly. ‘Once I explained my intentions to Signore Capelli, he added me to the guest list.’
Hah. As he’d thought. He’d definitely be having words with his secretary.
‘Nice dress.’ His voice sounded strangely hoarse and he cleared his throat.
‘Thank you. Nice suit.’