“I have to deal with her on a monthly basis, which is once a month more than I’d like. She’s Saint Cat’s admin director,” he added as the elevator doors opened and he walked in. “And my company depends on a mutual arrangement with their doctors and staff.”
“I see.” She followed him in and the doors slid closed.
“She’s damn good at her job.” He waved his key at the sensor and the elevator began to move. “My parents were thrilled when we got married. But she and I...”
“Weren’t a good match.”
“Not really, no.”
She couldn’t imagine Matt with someone like Katrina. He was too...passionate. Intense. Sensual. And Katrina looked like she could freeze an ice cube off her perfectly sculpted cheekbones.
So what had happened? Curiosity burned yet she let it simmer instead of putting it all out there. She didn’t want to know. Talking meant sharing, sharing meant intimacy and intimacy meant...
No. Think about your goal. That’s what you’re here for.
Never count on anyone. Never get close enough to care. Never, ever get comfortable.
She shifted from foot to foot. Living by those three rules had protected her from the worst of everything—heartbreak, disappointment, setback. Yet after she’d reconnected with Emily and had started to put down tentative roots, those rules had begun to fray around the edges. Her sister had gradually earned her trust until she’d become the one person she loved more than anything in the world. Plus, she’d been sharing a three-bedroom house in Mermaid Beach with a corporate lawyer and her personal trainer cousin for two years, which, she had to admit, was pretty comfortable.
But those were anomalies.
The elevator doors slid open, and she followed Matt into his apartment.
She’d dated a psychologist for a while and apart from the annoying way he’d never bite back when they argued, he’d taught her a lot about the intricacies of human behavior and what drove people to do what they did. Yet knowing that, people still surprised her. Like now. Matt had been so into her at the restaurant, but now... He walked in, loosened his tie and headed straight for the kitchen without a backward glance.
Invisible much?
She sighed, suddenly at a loss. And I even waxed...
“Do you want a drink?” he called while she stood in the middle of the living room, contemplating her next move.
“Tea would be good.” She glanced at the pristine chocolate-brown corner lounge and the smoked-glass coffee table. She’d been in his apartment less than a day and had already made her chaotic presence known with a water ring and a handful of smudges on the glass top.
“Do you have a cleaning service?” she called.
“No, why? Do I need one?”
She cast her eye around with a frown. “Not at all,” she muttered. “You just—”
He emerged from the kitchen, tie askew and top button undone, revealing the inviting vee of his neck. She glanced away.
“What?”
Filter, AJ, filter. She sighed. “You need a little color to brighten up your walls is all.”
He glanced around. “You don’t like my place?”
“Well, it’s nice. Elegant,” she added. “I mean, I’m no Picasso, but I have a painting that would—” She suddenly snapped her mouth shut.
“What?”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe we’re discussing your decor right now.”
His brow went up. “What would you rather be discussing?”
Her breath quickened and her eyes zeroed in on his neck again, then went back up to meet his eyes. “Nothing. I’d rather be doing.”
Man, he’d forgotten how direct this woman could be! After years of office politics, international red tape, playing nice and pretending with the best of them, Matt had missed that directness. She told it like it was, one of the things that had drawn him to her.
“C’mere.”
She was in his arms quicker than he could blink, lips tilting up, eager for his. With a groan, he obliged, slowly covering her mouth.
Yes. She welcomed him inside, teasing his tongue as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. The warm press of her breasts against his chest, her lean body and gently curving hips as they bumped urgently into his groin sent his pulse racing.
She murmured something low and encouraging, firing a spark deep inside his belly. Her thighs pressed into his, her arms tight around his neck as she angled her mouth so he could take her deeper.
And just like that, he was hard and ready to go.
“Matt,” she gasped, pulling back to stare at him through passion-heavy lids. “Take me to bed.”
Then she took his hand and placed it on her breast. The guttural growl came from deep in his throat, wrenching out one word. “Angel...”
He could barely think when her pebble-hard nipple pressed eagerly into his palm. Damn it, he wanted to take his time, seduce her the right way so she’d begin to trust him. A quickie in the middle of his lounge room was not a good place to start, even if it would satisfy his lust.
But it was hard to stop when she was rubbing up against him, the firm globe of her breast in his hand, her nipple erect and ready. His fingers convulsed and he let out a groan, curling them for one agonizing second around that wonderfully soft mound, then slowly dragging his palm across the engorged nipple. She whimpered, sighed and stretched her head back, exposing her long neck.
Furious need thundered through every vein, and he took a deep breath to steady his racing thoughts. Then another.
Plans had a way of derailing, and if he didn’t put a stop to this he’d lose the ground he’d already gained. Even as his body screamed in protest, he released her and took a step back. Her eyes sprang open and the dark desire in those depths coupled with a soft moue of disappointment speared him right in the groin.
You can do this. “AJ, we need to—”
A sharp, familiar tune suddenly echoed in the heated silence.
AJ groaned. Her phone.
He frowned. “Is that...?”
“‘Young Turks’ by Rod Stewart. My sister’s choice.”
“Then you’d better get it,” he said, taking another step back.
Are you insane? AJ gave him an incredulous look. “It can wait.”
“Could be important.” His expression was shuttered and the distance he’d created spoke volumes. She blinked, watching Matt stride back into the kitchen, undoing his tie as he went, and her confusion was magnified a thousandfold. Still, Rod continued to sing, and with a sigh she reached into her clutch.
“Do you know what time it is?”
“What, did I interrupt you getting ready to go out, Miss Party Queen?” Emily said.
“No.” She turned toward the windows with a scowl. “And shouldn’t you be doing something more interesting on your Paris honeymoon than calling me?”
“Zac and I had a bet. I thought my carrier had canceled my international roaming and he disagreed.”
“You know you can check that in your settings, right?”
“And deny myself the pleasure of hearing your voice?”
AJ felt a reluctant smile form. “Well, tell Zac congrats, he won. Won what, I don’t think I want to know.”
“You