‘We can and we are.’
She glanced up at him, a tiny frown creasing her brow. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘Very.’
‘What is it?’
Out of the corner of his eye Matt caught the flash of movement, a glimpse of someone heading over to talk to him. Oh, no. No way. ‘Have you seen the Sala dell’Anticollegio yet?’ he said loudly, wheeling her off in the opposite direction and not giving her time to answer. ‘Incredible vaulted ceiling. Badly in need of some TLC.’ As was he.
So much for lofty hauteur, thought Laura, tottering alongside Matt in her three inch stilettos.
It had all been going so well. She’d been cool and collected and she’d been enjoying the party hugely. Well, as much as anyone burning up with longing could.
She’d felt Matt’s eyes on her the entire evening, making her heart thump with a weird kind of anticipation and her body tingle. How she’d managed to hold any kind of sensible conversation was a miracle. At one point she’d even let out a low groan and had had to quickly turn it into a cough, which had been mortifying.
But by and large she’d kept herself under control.
Until Matt had started to make his way over and her self-possession had begun to slip away like silk over skin.
The closer he’d got, the harder she’d found it to move. Her feet seemed to have taken root. She’d lost track of the conversation going on around her. All she’d been aware of was Matt heading towards her, his expression turning grimmer by the second as yet another person engaged him in conversation, until he’d finally stopped in front of her, vibrating with an electric kind of tension that had her entire body buzzing.
And all she’d been able to think was who exactly was meant to be shaking up whom?
He ushered her through the doors and across the hall. He opened the door opposite, practically pushed her in, followed her and then closed it behind him. At the sudden silence after the vibrant noise of the party the edginess winding through her tripled. Her heart hammered and a flutter of nerves clutched at her stomach.
‘Did you really bring me here to look at the ceiling?’ she said, her voice sounding thick and husky and totally unlike hers.
‘What do you think?’ Matt’s eyes glittered as he moved past her and switched on the table lamp. Soft golden light bathed the room and Laura glanced up.
‘I think it isn’t vaulted and doesn’t need any restoration.’
The glimmer of a smile played at his lips. ‘So I lied.’
‘Tut tut.’
Matt turned, shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at her until her bones began to melt. ‘You wanted to know what was wrong.’
Had she? When? Oh, yes. Just before the madness had taken over. ‘I did,’ she said, fervently hoping he wasn’t going to launch into an attack on her work or something.
‘You’re what’s wrong.’
Her heart lurched. ‘Me?’ That was almost as bad.
‘You.’
‘Why?’
‘You drive me to distraction.’
Oh. Laura went dizzy for a second with the lust that shot through her. And then the knowledge that she’d been completely and utterly hoist by her own petard slammed into her. For a second the room spun. Shock ricocheted right through her. Swiftly followed by a deluge of relief and then everything suddenly fell into place.
She’d tried and tried to deny her attraction to Matt and she was sick of it. Sick of feeling constantly on edge and jumpy. She wanted Matt. So badly. And it seemed he wanted her, too.
The realisation was too much to resist and beneath the heat of his gaze the fragile barriers she’d tried to erect to protect herself came crashing down. What harm could just once more do? ‘Well, that goes both ways.’
‘Does it?’ he murmured, his gaze dropping to her mouth.
‘Oh, yes.’