Laura pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. Matt would never agree to accommodate her on any of that. That night he’d spilled out all the stuff about himself had been a blip. One he clearly regretted making, judging by the way he’d vanished to the other side of Europe at first light.
Ever since then, he’d revealed absolutely nothing. And neither had she. The last thing he’d want would be her poking and prodding at his psyche.
Unless, of course, he’d been thinking the same…
No. Laura straightened and planted her hands on the balustrade. That was nuts. Nothing more than extremely wishful thinking on her part. Because she was pretty sure that Matt was not sitting at his desk right this second wanting to share his dreams with her and figuring out what she wanted.
That kind of thinking could only lead to heartache.
But it didn’t stop her mind racing. Wondering if he might. Wondering what would happen if he did.
Her heart pounding, Laura set her jaw. Whatever Matt’s frame of mind, whatever he might or might not be thinking, a casual fling was no longer what she wanted and she couldn’t carry on pretending it was.
So she therefore had two possible courses of action. She could either take the cowardly way out and board the next plane home or she could pluck up her courage, risk everything, and ask him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘SO HOW was your day?’
Matt lay back and felt a warm kind of satisfaction steal over him. His day had been tougher than most. He’d had to authorise the arrest of a number of government officials and there was a problem with the funding of the new hospital. The only thing that had kept him going had been the thought of losing himself in the soft warmth of Laura’s body. And it had been every bit as amazing as he’d expected.
‘Fine,’ he said, rubbing his eyes and tucking her in closer.
‘Surely it can’t be fine every day.’
Matt sighed as a wave of fatigue washed over him. ‘What do you want me to say, Laura?’ he murmured against her hair. ‘Do you really want to spend the time we have together discussing the intricacies of Sassanian politics?’
She wriggled away from him and propped herself up on her elbow. ‘Well, why not?’
‘Because, frankly, I have enough of that during the day.’
‘Then maybe we could talk about something else.’
‘Why do we have to talk at all?’
‘Because we never talk,’ she said calmly, ‘and I don’t think it’s natural.’
We never talk. All you do is work.
Despite the lingering heat still flickering through his body, Matt’s blood ran cold as echoes of Alicia’s hurt-filled accusations reverberated around his head. And just like eight years ago, his brain switched into neutral and his body filled with the familiar hammering instinct to escape.
‘I don’t have time for this,’ he muttered, throwing back the sheet, getting out of bed and reaching for his jeans.
But Laura got there first, yanked them from him and snatched them out of reach. ‘Now who’s running away?’
Matt froze. He wasn’t running away. Was he? Still? Realisation slapped him in the face. God, he was. Look at the way he’d gone to Athens just because Laura had managed to wangle a few snippets of information out of him. And now look how desperate he was to dash back to his suite just because she wanted to talk.
And what was so dangerous about talking anyway? People did it all the time.
‘Fine,’ he said, pulling on what few clothes still remained within his grasp and lying back on the bed. ‘What do you want to talk about?’
He heard her take a deep breath and all the hairs on his body quivered in alarm. ‘Us.’
Matt frowned. ‘What about us?’ As far as he was concerned there wasn’t an ‘us’.
‘Where do you see this going?’
‘Why does it have to be going anywhere?’