Savage Awakening(30)

However he still moved with that lithe, predatory grace that never  failed to cause such an unwelcome awareness in the pit of her stomach,  and when he stepped aside to let her in she ensured that her bare arm  didn't brush any part of his lean frame.

His dark eyes narrowed, impaling her with a cool, dangerous gaze,  letting her know he had noticed, and she found it difficult to say,  'Good morning,' as she moved into the room.

Matt closed the door and then leaned back on it for a moment, watching  her. 'Why didn't you just come in?' he asked, his harsh voice scraping  sensuously over her nerves, and she strove for a casual tone.

'I thought you must have company,' she said, setting her backpack on the  table. She glanced about her, noting there were two empty coffee mugs  on the drainer, and stiffened. 'Is Diane here?'

'No.' Matt's tone was chilly. 'I don't expect to be seeing Diane again.'

'Oh!' Fliss moistened her lips. Did that account for his haggard appearance? 'I'm sorry.'

'Are you?' His thin lips twisted. 'Yeah, well, don't lose any sleep over it. I haven't.'

'You look as if you have,' Fliss exclaimed impulsively, and then wished she hadn't when his expression darkened.                       
       
           



       

'Thanks.' He was sardonic. 'I can always rely on you to tell it like it is.'

'I didn't mean … ' Fliss felt as if she was digging a pit for herself, but  she couldn't let him think she didn't care. 'It's just-well, you look  tired, that's all.'

'Right.'

'I-perhaps you should get yourself a gardener, after all,' she continued  doggedly. She knew he spent most afternoons working in the garden now.  'You've probably overdone it again.'

Matt gave a disbelieving shake of his head. 'How pleasant it must be to  live in your world, where every ailment can be explained away in  physical terms. I'm looking tired, ergo I've been overdoing it. I've got  a headache, so I should stop banging my head against this brick wall.'

Fliss felt the colour rise in her cheeks. 'There's no need to be  sarcastic,' she said stiffly. 'I realise some things can't be explained  away so easily. And whatever you say, I'm sure Diane-'

'For God's sake, will you stop harping on about Diane?' he snapped savagely, and she drew back in surprise.

This was a side of him she'd never seen before and, as if realising he'd  alarmed her, Matt came away from the door. Putting a hand on the table  at either side of her, he imprisoned her within his arms. 'Don't look at  me like that,' he implored her roughly. 'I'd never hurt you, surely you  know that?' His eyes dropped to her mouth and she quivered in spite of  herself. 'And don't ever think Diane has any bearing on the way I'm  feeling now, because she doesn't.'

'And I can vouch for that,' remarked a dry voice behind them, and Fliss,  who had been wondering if Matt was going to kiss her again and  speculating about what she would do if he did, started violently.

Matt reacted considerably less urgently, pushing himself away from the  table-and Fliss-with weary resignation. Then, as Fliss glanced somewhat  apprehensively over her shoulder to see a much older woman watching  them, he said flatly, 'This is my mother, Fliss. I don't believe you've  met.'

'As if that was in question,' observed Mrs Quinn crisply, coming further  into the room. She was a tall, elderly woman, with iron-grey hair,  dressed in an elegant silk suit. 'How do you do-Felicity, is it? I  understand you've worked wonders in this house.'

Fliss licked her dry lips. 'Um-Fliss will do,' she murmured, glancing  awkwardly at Matt's set face. 'And I-er-I've just done my job, that's  all.'

'Rather more than that, from what I hear,' declared the other woman  smoothly. She, too, glanced at her son. 'Isn't that right, Matt?'

'If you say so.' He was remote.

'I do say so.' His mother seemed unmoved by his obvious withdrawal. 'You  two evidently know one another very well.' She paused. 'Is there  something I should know?'

'No!'

Matt's denial was violent, and Fliss felt something inside her curl up  and die. Whatever might have happened if his mother hadn't interrupted  them clearly meant nothing to him.

'That's not what Diane says,' Mrs Quinn murmured softly, and once again her son lost his cool.

'I don't give a-a damn what Diane says,' he snarled, and Fliss knew he  was moderating his language for his mother's benefit. 'What do I have to  do to make you both understand that I couldn't care less about Diane?'

'Now that I can believe,' remarked his mother mildly. 'But you used to.  And the poor girl can't understand what she's done for you to treat her  so shabbily. Especially if you're living here alone.'

'Can't she?'

Matt's tone was mocking now, but Mrs Quinn was not prepared to back  down. 'No,' she replied pleasantly. 'She seems to think there's  something going on between you and … ' Her eyes flickered briefly in  Fliss's direction. 'Well, between you and this young lady, actually.'  Her dark brows arched in enquiry. 'Is she wrong?'                       
       
           



       

'Yes.'

Matt's response was immediate, and Fliss wished the floor would just  open up and swallow her. He'd had no hesitation in dismissing his  relationship with her. Whatever was going on between them, it was not  something he was prepared to own up to.

She shifted awkwardly, desperately wishing she was not a part of this  conversation. But when Matt looked at her, instead of at his mother,  what she saw in his gaze confused her even more.

Hot and passionate, his eyes ate her up. It was an almost palpable  invasion that turned her legs to water. Banked fires burned behind his  gaze, yet she had the sense he was still determined not to give in to  them. But he wanted her; she could see it. What power was controlling  him that was so much darker than his natural will?

She was mesmerised for several mindless seconds, and then his mother  spoke again, destroying the tenuous bond between them. 'Well,' she said,  'if there is no one else, I don't understand your attitude. When you  were captured, when you were a prisoner in Abuqara-'

'Diane was screwing her boss's brains out,' Matt finished for her  harshly. He started towards the door as if he'd had enough of her  interrogation. 'Ask her about it. See if she denies it. But you know  what? She did us both a favour.' His lips parted in a grim smile. 'I'm  no good for any woman, and that includes Fliss.'

He strode out of the room then, without looking at either of them again,  and Fliss turned abruptly towards the sink. She felt sick, and empty,  and she snatched up the two dirty coffee mugs and started washing up.  But her eyes were burning, and she had to blink several times to clear  them.

The room was silent behind her and, guessing Mrs Quinn had followed her  son, she glanced over her shoulder. But to her surprise, and dismay, she  found the woman still standing where she'd been before, dark eyes, so  unnervingly like Matt's, regarding Fliss with an intent appraisal.

'Oh!'

Fliss couldn't prevent the shocked exclamation and Mrs Quinn held up an apologetic hand. 'I'm sorry. Did I startle you?'

Twice, thought Fliss tensely, swinging round again before Matt's mother  could see her tear-wet eyes. But she should have known better than to  think she could fool a close relative of his.

'You're upset,' Mrs Quinn said gently. 'I'm afraid my son has that  effect on people. Or rather he has since he got back from North Africa.'

'I've got something in my eye, that's all,' said Fliss, not prepared to  confide in her. Then, when the woman still didn't go away, 'Can I get  you something? Have you had breakfast?'

'You don't have to pretend with me,' insisted the older woman  sympathetically. 'Matt can be utterly charming when he puts his mind to  it. And, obviously, he's taken quite a fancy to you. But you must  understand, there's no future in it.'

'Do you think I don't know that?' Much as she wanted to remain silent,  Fliss didn't like being patronised in this way. 'As your son said,  there's nothing between him and me.'

'But you'd like there to be?'

Fliss pressed her lips together. 'I must get on,' she said, refusing to  satisfy the woman's mordant curiosity. Then, with a coolness she was  quite proud of, 'Will you be staying for a few days? If so, I'll make  sure there are plenty of towels in your bathroom.'



Matt's mother stayed for four days and during that time Fliss made sure  that she and the other woman were never alone again. It wasn't  difficult, the weekend making up two of the days. She knew that what Mrs  Quinn had told her was true, but that didn't mean she had to listen to  her. Besides, despite what Matt had said about Diane having an affair  with her boss, Fliss suspected his mother still hoped he would forgive  her. And why not? Diane was blonde and beautiful, and successful.  Exactly the sort of wife a man like him should have.

Deciding whether or not she should stay on at the Old Coaching House as  Matt's housekeeper was another matter, however. Mrs Quinn's visit had  made certain things clear to her, and one of them was the total futility  of her attraction to her employer.