Mistress By Blackmail(65)

“Or something.”

“Anyway.” The babble continued. “I have to go. I see a friend I need to talk to.”

“There is nothing to be afraid of.”

“Right. You're right.” Her heart bloomed at his words, at his assurance. “I'm perfectly fine.”

“How long are you going to be there?”

“Probably another hour or so.” She started walking again. Past the coffee shop doing brisk business. Past the old woman who always had her hats and bags displayed. “Until I get cold. Then I'm going home.”

She realized she'd said the word the moment it slipped from her mouth. But it was too late. She’d already confessed another of her secrets to him.

“I have to go.” A faint sound of another person's voice came from behind his words. “Something needs to addressed.”

“Okay. I understand.” Her voice wobbled with relief. He'd been distracted when she responded. Or maybe the word home didn't mean as much to him as it did to her. Maybe he found no significance in her admission of seeing his place as her home.

“Darcy,” he sighed. There was a shuffling in the background, some muffled words. Then his voice came back on the line. “It might be best you return to the penthouse. I don’t like the edge of fear in your voice.”

He'd misinterpreted thankfully.

“I'm good.” She made sure her voice was strong. “No need to worry.”

More chatter in the background. His voice became impatient. “Here we go again.”

With her? Or whoever was with him? She couldn't tell.

“You arguing with me,” he continued. “Right now, however, I don't have time. I will talk to you shortly.”

The click of his phone told her she'd escaped from any further lectures for now.

Clicking off her own phone, she slipped it back into her pocket. Apparently, Marc had arrived at a point where he was no longer willing to put off the issues between them. Anxiety churned inside her. But she resolutely pushed away any worrying thoughts about their conversation. Time enough to confront his smoky gaze and be nailed by further questions. For now, she was going to delight in her outing.

For the next half hour, she thoroughly enjoyed herself. Friends greeted her with smiles. New art exhibits enchanted her. She stopped and bought a hot cocoa which warmed the pit of her stomach. She was about to call it a day and head for home when a tall, gangly guy stepped right in front of her.

A very familiar tall, gangly guy.

“Finally, I’ve found you.” The relief in his voice clashed with the frustration in his eyes. “What the hell is going on?”

“Matt?” She stared at his dear face for a moment and then screeched. “Matt!”

For once, she was the one who initiated a hug between them. Wrapping her arms around his body, she drank in his warmth as he reciprocated and tugged her into his lanky grasp.

“Quite a welcome,” he said in bemusement. “Especially from you.”

“I know.” She pulled away and smiled at him. “It's just so good to see you.”

“So what's going on?” He frowned and instantly he reminded her of his older brother. “What's going on with you and the Great Man?”

“What do you mean?” she stalled. The question threw her, in spite of the fact she should have expected it. So much had happened since they'd seen each other, it was hard to know where to begin. How to explain. Or geez, even know if she should explain.

“I saw the tabloids only yesterday.” His frown grew deeper. “I couldn't believe it when my momma showed them to me. You? And my brother? When the hell did that happen?”

“Um—”

“I couldn’t believe it.” His brown gaze was no longer soulful. Instead, it was piercing. “There had to be some mistake. I caught the next plane to England to see what was going on. But then I couldn’t find you. You’re not staying at my place anymore.”

“Ummm,” she mumbled. “No.”

His eyes widened as he put the pieces together. “What? You moved in with the Great Man? Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m not kidding.” She scowled at her friend. “That’s all I’m going to say.”

His hands slammed on his hips in disgust. “You gotta give me more than that, kiddo.”

“Well.” She searched in her head for some way to distract him. ”What about you? What's going on with the marriage and Viola? Did you put your foot down and say no?”

“Good try,” he snarled. ”I'm not answering anything, though, until you give me the goods.”

Glancing down at the pavement, she shifted on her feet. ”He…I…”