Catch (8 page)

He could feel the heat crawling up over his collar. He'd sprung her out at lunchtime and now he'd been stupid enough to get caught in the same trap. "You live with Gina and I know she's on the Shore."

Tamsen leaned forward, snaring him in her steely gaze. "Strange you'd know where your receptionist lives, especially one you can't stand."

He held his hands up in mock surrender.
 
"Okay, you got me, I'll come clean.
 
I looked your address up in the phone book, so sue me."

"I'm sure I can think of things I'd much rather do than sue you."
   

The words went straight to his groin.
 
She idly ran her index finger up and down the stem of the crystal flute holding her water while Matt had lewd visions of where he'd like her hands to be.

"Maybe I should get the chicken on the barbecue?"
 
Anything to get his mind out of her knickers.
 
Food to the rescue for the second time today.

"Is there something I can do?"

"How'd you go with making salad?"
 
Matt headed into the kitchen to get the chicken and prawns out of the fridge. She followed him.

Tamsen had come in after him. "My speciality.
 
With or without unique accompaniments?"

"Er, with?"
 
He wondered what the hell she was talking about, but decided to go with it.
 
This going with gut feelings seemed to be opening all sorts of interesting doors.
 

"So can I use whatever I find in the fridge?" Tamsen's question followed him back out onto the terrace.

"Yeah, go for it - use whatever you want." He popped his head back in through the bifold windows over the sink, "There's a crystal bowl in the cupboard next to the fridge and the salad servers are in the drawer underneath the bench."

"No probs, chef.
 
You cook and I'll chop."

He'd always appreciated the ease with which the house lent itself to alfresco dining.
 
He was also quite enjoying having Tamsen in the kitchen; the physical distance between them eased the tension in his groin.
 

There was a continual knot in his stomach.
 
That bubbly feeling of anticipation - it had been present since the first moment he'd set eyes on her and he was unable to shake it.

Throwing the chicken on the hot steel, he took a swig of his beer, grateful that Tamsen didn't seem to have any objections to his drinking straight from the bottle; he'd so had enough of airs and graces.
 

The sizzling chicken sealed quickly and he expertly turned the kebabs, careful to avoid being spattered by hot fat.
 
As much as he loved barbecued food, he hated wearing the scent of cooking and went to extraordinary lengths to make sure he created as little smoldering smoke as possible.

He could hear Tamsen singing softly to herself in the kitchen.
 
He couldn't make out the words or the tune, but was taken with the gentle harmony.

"Matt?" She was leaning out the window. "Those flowers round the front door - you don't spray them or anything, do you?"

He laughed. "You're kidding, right?
 
I live in the country's leading eco-city - what do you think?"

"That'd be a no, then?"

"Correct."
 
What the hell could she want with flowers when she was making a salad?

After throwing the prawns on the barbecue, he headed back into the kitchen to pick up his new favorite serving platter - a huge oval fish Danni had painted in ceramics class and given him last Christmas.
 

The kitchen looked as if a bomb had exploded in it and he couldn't help wondering what sort of chaos she'd have created if she'd cooked the entire meal.
 
There were lettuce leaves from one edge of the bench to the other, water all over the draining board, and a pool on the tiled floor where some of it had run down the cupboard doors. One little person – one large mess.

"Oy, you, out of here - I'm creating." Tamsen returned with a small bunch of flowers in her hand.

"I can see that."

"Oh, right, the carnage."
 
He saw the start of a blush as she dropped her eyes from his and looked at her feet.
 
"Gina doesn't like me cooking. She says it's not worth the effort of having to clean up after me.
 
I'm afraid I'm not the tidiest of people."

He shrugged.
 
"Hey, no big deal. So you're creative - create away.
 
I can clean up later."

Matt walked outside, adding to his list of mental notes.
 
Passionate. Tick. Sensual and creative. Tick. It made for a heady mix.
 
His mind wandered again to the promise of the pleasures of her flesh and he experienced another hot and sweaty moment that had nothing to do with the heat coming from the barbecue.

Tamsen arrived outside with the salad - a work of art contained in a simple white bowl.

"Wow!"
 
He was impressed.
 
"I'd never have thought of putting flowers in a salad. Are you sure it's okay to eat them?"

"Absolutely."
 
She beamed at him and he was touched she received so much pleasure from his affirmations.

"It’s a great idea to eat the centerpiece."

"Keep up the compliments and there's a damned good chance you'll get me between the sheets tonight."
 

Tamsen vacillated between angelic, virginal schoolgirl and sultry temptress.
 
Matt had trouble keeping up, although parts of him seemed to be in no doubt as to where the evening was heading.

"I told you, I'm having you across a table," he said. "How does this one look, or would you prefer the one inside?"

"Oh, I get a choice.
 
That's kind."

"I always aim to please."
 
He pushed the platter of chicken and prawns toward her, "Now, you’d better get some of these down you - you're going to need all the help you can get to keep up with me later."

Eyeing him with a suspicious look, Tamsen picked up a couple of prawns and some chicken. "Is that so?"

He turned his attention to the salad.
 
It really was a work of art and Matt had a pang of guilt at the prospect of destroying the display by dropping some of it on his plate.

He said, "You'd best explain to me what it is I'm eating.
 
I had no idea there was anything even remotely edible in my garden."

"You've got plenty." Tamsen dug into the salad herself, small petals falling onto her plate like confetti.
 
"The purple petals are heartsease - those small violas that you've got growing under the roses at the front door. The orange skinny ones are calendula petals. They're often referred to as pot marigold.
 
There're nasturtium petals - they were growing on the bank down the driveway, the orange and yellow petals - and if you look there's some baby nasturtium leaves too. They're the little hexagonal ones."

He was impressed.
 
"What’s this one?"
 
He was holding a small, five-petaled cream flower.

"Try it."

"You do know you have to marry me before you can pick up the life insurance?" He must be relaxed - he never joked about marriage, with anyone.

"It won't kill you."
 
She urged him on, "Promise."

"It's a potent aphrodisiac, right?"
 

She laughed.
 
"I don't know, I'd have to check my book at home for its constituents."

"It tastes like peanut butter."
 
He was amazed. "What is it?"

"It's rocket.
 
There're leaves here too from the packet greens you had in the fridge, but you've got flowers down the driveway."

"I never thought I'd be eating flowers from my own garden."
 
He wondered what other interesting surprises she had lined up for him.

Matt's astonishing receptiveness to new experiences added to the man's enigma.
 
Other men in her past - not that there'd been many – had run a mile whenever she suggested anything new.
 
She wondered, not for the first time, what drove this man.

His home wasn't at all what she'd expected.
 
It had been clear the moment she set foot down the driveway that extreme garden renovations were underway, and she’d had to clamber over piles of bark, mulch and topsoil to get to the flowers she'd collected for the salad.
 

She hoped he wasn't too upset over the mess in the kitchen; she just got so involved in creating, she was completely oblivious to the disorder around her.

It was lovely having someone to share her knowledge about the plants with too; he seemed to have a genuine interest, although she couldn't at this stage discount that as mere lip-service to his undisguised attempts to get her undressed.
 

Watching him eat, his sensual lips covered with a fine oily sheen from the chicken, she imagined them traversing the length of her body.
 
He slowly licked his lips, aware she was inspecting him. Teasing.
 

Warmth flooded her body and her nipples reacted in an instant, anticipating his tongue.
 
He was gorgeous and she wanted him.
 
Tamsen sat there, torn between her lustful desire to experience him and the conventional school-ma'am voice lecturing her in her head.
 

"It's beautiful watching the dusk turn to night from here, don't you think?"
 
Matthew leaned back in his chair, surveying the rapid descent of night.
 

Tamsen had to agree. It had been magical watching the sunset colors cross the horizon as they ate their meal.
 
The sky ran now like watercolors, from deep black down through dark blue, with the lighter sky blue merging into pale grey as the last sliver of red danced on the horizon behind the black silhouette where trees met sky.

She sighed, feeling replete and satisfied with life.
 
"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

"That makes two of us." He stood, collecting up dirty plates and cutlery and made movements toward the kitchen with the crockery and the remainder of the food.

"Here, let me help you."
 
She picked up the fish platter and his two empty beer bottles.

"No need, really, I'm an expert. I was a waiter in former life."

"Cool, a Catholic who believes in reincarnation."

He laughed. "I meant when I was a struggling law student."

"A man of many talents."

"We've had this discussion before."
 
The look in his eye spoke of pleasures yet to be unearthed.
 
Did she have the courage to dig, she wondered?

"You keep threatening.
 
I'm beginning to think you're all mouth and trousers."
 
What a thing to say, she could have slapped herself.
 
Maybe it was time to just call it a night and head home.

His desire registered in his eyes and her world came to a grinding halt.
 
All thought of walking out the door left her head.
 
His pupils dilated and she felt something inside of her ping.
 
Her brain screamed a warning, but her soul held her rooted to the spot, caught in his gaze.
 

"Mouth and trousers, hmm?"
 
He moved toward her, invading her aura, close enough she could feel his breath on her face.
 
He didn't touch her, but still his energy infiltrated its way into her every cell.
 
Her temperature rose. Her heart beat erratically.
 
She had an acute awareness of the lack of distance between them – she was hypersensitive to him, warmed by a passion that flared within him.

He reached out to touch her face, running the back of his hand from the top of her cheekbone down, the tips of his fingers lingering at the base of her throat.
 

An erotic touch that sparked a response inside her.
 
She held her breath, not daring to move, waiting to see what he would do next.
 

An immediate desire to reach out and touch him consumed her and she ran her hand up his bare arm, the hairs tickling her palm.
 
She trembled, the tension building between them.
 

His eyes never left hers, unblinking pools of dark brown, the pupils - smaller pools of black.
 
Matt let his fingers slide under her chin, tracing the outline of her jaw, all the way to her silver earring, then swinging on the metal hoop.
 
The intimate action sparked a sudden flush of vulnerability and Tamsen swallowed involuntarily.

"Am I disturbing you?"
 
His voice was thick with desire.

"You've been disturbing me from the moment I first set eyes on you."
 
It was the truth, though she'd been afraid to admit it even to herself. It seemed strange vocalizing it for him.

"Do you want me to stop?"
 
The gleam in his eye spoke of wicked things to come.

"No."

Tamsen moved closer to him, reaching out and mirroring his actions with her hand.
 
His skin was warm, and she decided he must have shaved before she arrived - there was absolutely no hint of regrowth. She was touched that he'd made such an effort for her.

He dragged his finger along her cheek, down to her mouth, pausing just below her bottom lip.
 
She reflected the action and he smiled.
 
She stroked her finger across his bottom lip, waiting to see if he would pick up on her lead. He did.
 
She suckled his finger, drawing it deep into her mouth.
 
Tasting him, enjoying the intimate contact, allowing him to explore her mouth, rubbing her tongue up and down and around him.