A man was standing in the lobby of the building, looking out at him. The door to one of the ground-floor apartments was ajar and Matt wondered if he was the caretaker for the building. The outer door was locked with the usual keypad beside it, and after ascertaining which apartment was occupied by Mrs—no, Ms—Carlyle, he scowled at the anomaly and pressed her bell.
There was no response and his scowl deepened. He’d been fairly sure she’d be at home at this hour of the evening. Perhaps the man would know. He hesitated only a moment before knocking at the door, and after a second’s hesitation the man came to open it.
However, he regarded Matt rather suspiciously, as if he wasn’t used to dealing with visitors after dark. Especially a tall, intimidating visitor, who was regarding him with a definite air of impatience.
Matt’s skin was darkly tanned, too, after his convalescence in Florida, and he had an unconscious arrogance that apparently aroused the man’s defences. ‘Can I help you?’ he asked offhandedly, and Matt got the feeling that he was hoping he’d say no.
‘You already have,’ Matt replied, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Then, without waiting for an invitation, he stepped inside, causing the man to back up in alarm.
Adopting his most unthreatening tone, Matt continued, ‘I’m here to visit with my wife, Mrs Novak? Um, that is—Ms Carlyle,’ he amended shortly. ‘Do you know if she’s at home?’
The man frowned, and tucked the newspaper he’d been carrying under his arm. ‘I wouldn’t know,’ he said, with evident satisfaction. ‘I’m only the caretaker here. Sorry.’
Matt knew an almost uncontrollable desire to swear, but instead he said stiffly, ‘I’ll go up and see for myself. The third floor, isn’t it?’
The man took a heavy breath. ‘I can’t let you do that. You can ring her bell again, if you like, but—’
Matt controlled his annoyance with an effort. ‘She might have been in the bathroom when I rang,’ he protested.
‘She might indeed.’ The man sniffed and Matt sucked in an impatient breath.
‘Mrs—Ms Carlyle is my wife,’ he said curtly. ‘I need to speak with her.’
‘Do you now?’ The man cleared his throat. ‘Does she know you’re coming?’
Matt’s hands curled into fists in his pockets. He wasn’t used to being treated in this way. ‘No,’ he snapped tersely. ‘Not that it’s any business of yours. Now, if you’ll—’
But before he could go on, the door to a lift he’d barely noticed before swept open at the other side of the lobby. Footsteps crossed the faux marble floor, halting uncertainly when he turned.
‘Matt!’
Joanna was standing just a few yards from the lift. She was carrying what appeared to be a basket of laundry, and he guessed she’d been on her way to speak to the caretaker. Why else bring a basket of laundry down to the ground floor?
But now she’d halted and was staring at him with disbelieving eyes.
She was so beautiful, he thought. Her streaked blonde curls shone like gold, as if the sun were hidden in their heavy masses. Her eyes were wide and startled as she gazed at him, twin orbs of a deep blue, surrounded by long darkened lashes.
‘Hello, Joanna,’ he said, resisting the urge to glance triumphantly at his companion. ‘Perhaps you would tell our nervous friend here that we’re acquainted?’
JOANNA MOISTENED LIPS that had suddenly become as dry as the desert. ‘Um—yes, Mr Johnson,’ she said, with evident reluctance, Matt thought. ‘I know Mr Novak.’
‘Novak?’ The older man frowned. ‘He said his name was Carlyle.’
‘No, you’ve assumed that,’ Matt contradicted him shortly, getting tired of this fruitless exchange. ‘However, she is my wife.’ He arched his dark brows at Joanna. ‘Am I right?’
Joanna hesitated, but, aware that the caretaker was watching their exchange, she said, ‘For the present.’
She heaved a breath, and then spoke again to the man. ‘Actually, I wanted to tell you I’m going away tomorrow for a few days.’ She might wish she hadn’t chosen this particular moment to give the caretaker this news, but it was too late now. She’d been on her way back from the laundry in the basement and it had seemed the ideal opportunity. ‘Would you mind keeping an eye on the apartment for me, Mr Johnson?’
‘No problem, Ms Carlyle,’ he said, annoying Matt anew with his familiarity. ‘I hope you’re going somewhere warm. It’s been so cold these last few days.’
‘Hasn’t it?’
Joanna managed a smile before heading back towards the lift, with Matt following her. But although he evidently expected her to press the button, she stopped and turned to face him instead. ‘Well?’
‘Well?’ he said blankly. ‘Well, what?’
‘I assume you came here to talk to me. So, go ahead, talk.’
‘Not here.’ Matt’s patience was shredding. ‘I suggest we go up to your apartment.’
Joanna squared her shoulders and glanced at her watch—the slim Patek Philippe watch, he’d given her, Matt noticed, reassured that she hadn’t abandoned it along with everything else. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said stiffly, ‘that’s not convenient. You should have given me some warning that you were coming to England.’
‘As you warned me you were coming to Miami?’ suggested Matt tensely. ‘What’s wrong? Do you already have a visitor? Is my arrival inconvenient?’
Joanna pursed her lips. ‘No—and yes,’ she replied, shifting a little nervously. ‘What do you want, Matt? It’s a bit late for a social call.’
‘Is it?’
Matt was sardonic, and Joanna gave a weary sigh. ‘It is when I have things to do.’
‘Because you’re going away?’
‘Yes. You’ve just heard that I’m going away tomorrow.’ He noticed she was avoiding his gaze. ‘I still need to tidy the apartment and finish my packing.’
Matt scowled. ‘Where are you going?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘More to the point, who are you going with?’
Joanna smoothed the laundry in the basket. ‘Does it matter? We decided some time ago that our relationship is over.’
‘Did we? Was that before or after you got me into bed?’
‘I didn’t—’ Joanna broke off, wondering what he’d say if she told him she’d been expecting him to contact her for the past three weeks. ‘I hope you’re not anticipating another one-night stand.’
‘I’m not.’ His voice was harsh.
But, in truth, his feelings for her hadn’t changed. Yet why would he expect a warm welcome? It had taken him three weeks to come and find her and she didn’t know why.
As if sensing his frustration, she finally pressed the button to summon the lift. When the doors opened and she stepped inside, he followed her. She definitely didn’t want to cause a scene. Besides, ridiculous as it seemed, she was glad to see Matt.
But unfortunately, that reminded her of how he’d looked the last time she’d seen him, naked in bed. And she definitely shouldn’t be thinking about that now. He did look a little weary, however, but he was still