Serenity (Inevitable #5)(39)
He didn't think - or, more accurately, didn't know - if Sasha was attracted to him as well. He might have been forty years old, and married for nearly half that time, but he was admittedly still naïve when it came to the opposite sex. Of course, it had been a hell of a long time since he'd dated or even thought about another woman, and he had zero idea at the moment about the best way to pursue his attraction to Sasha. Nor did he have any friends he could consult, with the exception perhaps of Ian. But Ian seemed rather protective of Sasha, likely because of her close friendship with Tessa, and Matthew wasn't at all sure that he would approve of his interest in her.
As the day wore on, Matthew decided the best course of action would simply be to let things unfold naturally. Whether that resulted in things remaining status quo, or with him simply asking Sasha out for coffee or dinner, or wound up with the two of them in bed, he was content to let nature take its course.
Of course, he mused, it probably wouldn't hurt if he left the office a little early today just to make sure the condo was tidied up in anticipation of Sasha's arrival this evening. He'd make sure there was plenty of herbal tea on hand, maybe chill a bottle of wine, and have some fresh fruit available as well. As he jotted down a list, he wondered if buying a bouquet of flowers would be considered overkill.
Chapter Seven
Sasha tried her best not to feel intimidated upon entering the lobby of Matthew's condo building, telling herself that he was far from her only client who was wealthy and lived in luxurious accommodations. The Gregson's house, for example, was a veritable mansion, three stories high and surrounded by a security gate. But as lavish as Ian and Tessa's home was, it still felt warm and welcoming every time Sasha set foot inside the door, and she had never once felt out of place there. Unlike, for example, the way she was beginning to feel right now in this high-ceilinged, discreetly lit lobby with its white marble floors and walls, and the dark-haired, bespectacled concierge who was regarding her suspiciously from behind his desk.
"May I help you, madam?" he inquired in a snooty voice, the accent sounding vaguely British or perhaps Australian.
"Yes, please," replied Sasha in the sort of soothing tone she used to calm particularly stressed out clients. "I'm here to see Mr. Bennett. Can you please let him know that Ms. Fonseca has arrived?"
The concierge gave her a look of disbelief, as though he couldn't comprehend why this woman who resembled a gypsy was asking to see the building's wealthiest resident. Sasha sighed, wondering if she should have taken Chad's fashion advice after all and worn something besides the batik printed peasant skirt and hip length cotton sweater that she'd selected. Trouble was, she thought, that this was actually one of the nicer outfits in her limited wardrobe. And Sasha highly doubted that any of her clothing would have met with the approval of the uptight young man who was still regarding her warily. Now here, she thought rather meanly, was someone who was in dire need of a relaxing massage, and whose jaw muscles probably ached constantly from maintaining that stiff upper-lipped expression of disapproval.
"I'll inform Mr. Bennett of your arrival," he informed her disdainfully. "Please have a seat."
He motioned to a trio of plush white leather sofas that had been arranged around a low, glass-topped table. Sasha hid a smile as she took a seat, thinking that the concierge was probably afraid she'd dirty something. With a rare display of devilry, she plunked her oversized brown and gold brocade shoulder bag on top of the table, watching with ill disguised glee as the concierge was unable to hide his horror. She briefly considered stretching her legs out and resting her espadrille shod feet on the table, but too many years of being forced to abide by her mother's rules about ladylike behavior stopped her just in time.
As she waited to be granted admittance to Matthew's condo, Sasha fretted yet again about whether this had been a wise decision or not. There had really only been a couple of occasions in the past when male clients had tried to cross a line with her or outright proposition her, and neither of those times had occurred during an in-home appointment. But she had always been very attuned to things like emotions and feelings, and had even attended a few workshops and read several books about reading the auras of others. It was how she'd known that Julia's unborn twins were going to be boys, and how she'd sensed from the first moment after meeting Matthew at the Gregsons' wedding last June that he was unhappy.