Catch (17 page)

"So you got home from work," she prodded.

"I'd arranged dinner for the two of us at the most expensive restaurant I could find - had to call in a couple of favors for the bookings, but that's beside the point.
 
But then I arrived home and my bloody mother was entertaining my ex-fiancé."

"Ooh.
 
Nice!"
 

He loved the way she had of making the right comment, in the right tone, at precisely the right moment. "Exactly.
 
To say I was thrilled would be an understatement."

Another tingle of pleasure ran through his body.
 
She was massaging his pectoral muscles.
 
He'd have happily shut up and shagged her again but there was little chance of getting away with that.
 
Not yet, anyway.

"So the two of you had a little show-down and you left in a white-hot rage."

"How did you know that? Have you been stalking me?"

"Elementary, my dear Watson." She giggled. "You were pretty angry when you got here."

He wiggled his aching cock against her.
 
"Parts of me were."

She wiggled back.
 
"No more than a natural reaction to the frustration and anger you felt at your mother.
 
You’re just lucky I'm understanding."

"And a bit of a whore."

She slapped him on the thigh.
 
Hard.

"Sorry.
 
I deserved that.
 
Though I meant it in the most flattering way."

She smiled seductively.
 
"I know.
 
It pays to keep you on a short leash until I have you trained right."

Another bolt of desire shot to his nether regions.
 
"Stop talking dirty to me.
 
I'm having a hard enough job as it is trying to relax."

"Would you like me to stop?"

"No."

"So, your mother.
 
I take it she doesn't approve of the cancellation of the wedding she had planned?"

"We didn't ever get as far as the planning stage.
 
Some of the ideas Angie had about marriage woke me up to the fact I was looking at a lifetime union that would be a living hell."

"You weren't compatible?"

"On paper we looked perfect.
 
It was only when I started imagining waking up with her every morning, the same old daily grind..." He was having trouble finding the words to describe the discontent he’d felt every time he turned his mind to being with her for the rest of his life.

An anxious feeling began to stir in his stomach.
 
He realized it was the same one he had when his mother was around.
 
Why had he never put the two together before now?

"It couldn't just be called pre-wedding jitters then?

"No.
 
I could tell it was all wrong.
 
The day I found myself down on the waterfront looking at apartments I knew it was all over."

"Looking at apartments?"
 
She sounded puzzled.
 
"But you love gardens – you can’t have a garden in an apartment."

"Exactly.
 
That's how it was."

She giggled.
 
"I see now."

"So you can imagine how pissed off I am that Mother's decided to put her paddle in and try to resolve the 'little misunderstanding'."
 
His tone of voice went up a couple of octaves in imitation of his mother.

Tamsen couldn't help laughing.
 
"And I'm sure she'd beat you if she could hear you taking the mickey out of her."

"I'd rather you did."
 
He drew her to him, his lips finding hers in an instant.
 
His tongue probing the warm recess of her mouth.
 

She met his passion, rubbing her body against his with reckless abandon.
 
He couldn't stand not to be inside her.
 
The power she had to make him want her was terrifying.
 
His desire churned inside, insatiable, like a terrible addiction - the more he fed on her, the more he wanted her.

She pulled away from his mouth, gasping.
 
"You'll devour me."

"That's the idea."

He enjoyed watching her struggle with herself.
 
She'd been driving him wild long enough.
 
It was satisfying watching her self-control crumble.

"Come on."
 
Her words conveyed a sense of order her body did not; he could still feel her trembling.
 
"That shirt of yours must be dry by now - why don't we head out for something to eat?"

"I thought you were hungry for me."

"Oh, sir, but I am."

"We could eat in."

"Except we wouldn't eat anything."

"Except each other."
 
He couldn't resist.

"Stop right now."
 
She looked flustered.
 
Her tangled hair hung seductively over her bare shoulders, the thin cheesecloth top scarcely covering her erect nipples.
 
"You can do what you like, sunshine, but I'm going out for dinner."

He was a horror, Tamsen thought. At this rate she'd lose pounds.
 
So much sex and hardly any food.
 
Though it was the nicest possible way to slim down – beat starving herself into osteoporosis any day.

One look in the bathroom mirror confirmed her suspicions: yep, no doubt about it, he made her hot.
 
Her cheeks were flushed and she looked like she'd just run a marathon, not given someone a relaxing massage.
 
She beamed at herself.
 
Like there was any chance anyone could relax with that half-naked god underneath them.
 
An involuntary shudder ran up her spine.

"Someone walk over your grave?"
 

She spun around and he was in the doorway, buttoning up his clean shirt. "Out you."
 
She wagged a pointed finger at him.
 
"You and me and bathrooms are a bad combination.
 
You'll have your clothes off again in no time and I'll never get fed."

"You and me and anywhere's a bad combination.
 
Maybe we should stay in - then it wouldn't matter if our clothes came off."
 
He grinned wickedly. "Unless, of course, you're an exhibitionist."

"Be off with you."
 
She slipped past him in the doorway, not daring to let any part of their bodies touch lest she end up naked and starving.

He followed her back into the bedroom. She quickly changed her top - she was going to have a devil of a job getting the oil out of it. The muslin blouse was one of her favorites too; the material caressed her skin like the wings of a thousand angels.
 
She made a mental note not to offer a massage to him again unless she was naked too.
 
Another involuntary shudder.
 

Quelling that thought, she turned to him.
 
"So.
 
Where we eating?"

He held his hands up in mock surrender.
 
"I'm not even going to answer that question on the grounds that whatever I say will get me into trouble.
 
You decide."

"There's a café just down the road, nearly on the beachfront.
 
You want to try there?"

"Sounds fine to me.
 
I figure the sooner I get you fed, the sooner I can get you back here and we can start again where we left off."

Matt tried to sneak into his own home for the second night running. This time he couldn't escape his mother. She sat waiting for him, as she'd done so many times in his youth.

"Mother." He knew better than to simply walk past without acknowledging her presence.

"Matty. I'll never understand you." Marguerite wrung her hands. He hadn't seen her do that since his father died and an unexpected pang of guilt stopped him in his tracks. Sometimes he hated being her only offspring.

Matt sighed, all the fight knocked out of him - or maybe he'd fucked it out. "There's not a lot to understand, you need to accept that Angie's not going to be a part of my life and we'll be fine."

"But, Matty -"

Matt held up his hands. "I won't argue with you on this, Mother. I'm not backing down and that's the end of the matter."

Marguerite, sensing the undermining of her position, crossed the room and laid a cool hand on his cheek. "You so remind me of your father when you talk like that." The woman was a masterful manipulator, but something about her seemed to have softened, or maybe he was looking at her through new eyes.

"I miss him too, Mom."

"Yes, well - " Marguerite turned her back on him, " - let's not go there, emotions have run high enough around here today."

After years of watching his parents, Matt knew that signaled the end of their conversation. He could only hope that this time she would listen to him.

Why should this time be any different, he wondered?

Matt was having increasing difficulty concentrating on the file open in front of him.
 
It was happening more often.
 
The Tamsen factor.
 
She'd destroyed his work ethic and really gotten under his skin.

Gazing out his 14
th
floor window over the glass-like harbor, he watched yachts and pleasure boats jockeying for position with ferries and naval frigates.
 
He usually found the vista calming; today it only highlighted the intense confusion milling within him.

"Don't tell me she's dumped you already?"
 
Danni's enquiry as she unceremoniously placed a flat white on the only vacant space on his desk brought him back to the present moment.

"No."
 
He couldn't help sounding indignant.
 
It wasn't even Tamsen who concerned him.
 
It was the scene in her kitchen that was really getting to him.
 
How the hell was he to deal with Gina's absences now?
 

"Danni?"

"Yes, Matt?"
 
She was busying herself filing again.
 
He found himself uncharacteristically avoiding following the slim line of her legs up to the hem of her skirt.
 
He obviously had Tamsen fever bad.

"What's your opinion of Gina?"
 
He decided to close his office door; there was no reason anyone else should hear them discussing another staff member.
 

She looked concerned. "Is there a problem?
 
It's not like you to shut your door."

He shrugged.
 
"Just wouldn't like it to get back to her that we were having this discussion."

"Not much chance of that - she's not turned up yet and she's nearly an hour late most mornings."

"Have you had anything to do with her socially?"
 
He felt lousy digging for information, but he needed to confirm his suspicions.

"She's been out with us girls a couple of times.
 
Gets blind drunk and usually ends up having a fight with one of us."

"What, physically?"

"No, verbally. She's only a little thing, but she's got a mouth on her.
 
Some of the things that have come out of it - man, what an education."

"So what are the fights over?"
 
Matt couldn't imagine his staff brawling, or yelling at each other; most of the girls were really friendly and conservative.

"She usually comes onto one of the girls or their boyfriends and it doesn't take long to get ugly.
 
She doesn't like anyone saying no to her, that's for sure."

Flashes of his own brush with her in Tamsen's kitchen came rushing back.
 
Matt shuddered.

"Don't know how that lovely girlfriend of yours puts up with her.
 
Though I have to say, she's been her saving grace a couple of times."

Matt paid more attention.
 
"What do you mean?"

"When things have gotten really ugly, it's usually Tamsen who calms her down and manages to smooth things over with the other girls."
 
Danni looked thoughtful.
 
"She has this way of managing to disperse bad feeling. It's almost as if she casts a spell over everyone.
 
Hard to describe unless you've seen her do it."

He was interested.
 
"She's done this a few times, smoothed things over?"

"Absolutely.
 
Everyone thinks Tamsen's great.
 
I'm surprised it took you so long to notice her."

He felt himself flush.
 
She was right.
 
He wasn't usually backward at coming forward as far as women were concerned.

"But then, as I've said before and I’ll say it again - " she winked at him " - she's not your type, is she, boss?"

Matt's tone was teasing. "Thanks, Dan.
 
I think that's about as much as I need to know."
 
He knew Danni enjoyed the banter.

"Watch yourself, Matt.
 
That Gina - she can be an evil piece of work when she wants to be."

She went back to her filing and he continued on staring blankly at the pages in front of him.
 
What the hell should he do now?

Tamsen had finished her morning rituals and changed the sheets on her bed.
 
They could damn near walk themselves to the laundry room, she thought as she loaded them into the washing machine.
 

She couldn't help sniffing the pillowslip before she popped it in.
 
It still smelt of Matt.
 
Breathing in his pungent scent filled her with joy.
 
It was almost a shame to wash him away, but there was nothing like freshly laundered sheets either.
 
If she had the time she'd change her sheets every day.