An Heir Made In The Marriage Bed. Anne MatherЧитать онлайн книгу.
Nevertheless, her reasons for being here hadn’t changed. She wanted a divorce. It was as simple and as complicated as that. Simple, because all Matt had to do was agree not to contest it; and complicated, because when her father sold his small company to the Novak Corporation, Matt had made her a shareholder in NovCo.
Not that she wanted any part of the organisation now. But the legal aspects of the situation would have to be gone through. She had hoped that after this interview Matt might come to London, which would have made things easier. But she was here now and she had to accept the situation as it was.
She should have taken David Bellamy’s advice, she thought ruefully. Her boss at the art gallery, where she’d been working when she met Matt and where she was working again now, had warned her she should leave any communication between them to a solicitor. David had never liked Matt. He had been of the opinion that a man like Matthew Novak was used to women falling at his feet, and he’d been convinced their marriage wouldn’t last.
And it hadn’t.
‘You know what he’s like,’ David had said on more than one occasion. ‘He believes he can twist you round his little finger. And if he thinks I’m involved in your decision, he’s bound to be suspicious. Do you really want to give him the chance to change your mind?’
‘Matt couldn’t do that,’ she’d retorted at once, the distance between them convincing her she was right.
And she was right, she silently insisted. She had only to think of her father, and the torment he must have suffered during his last illness, to know there was no going back.
Of course, that was months ago now, and her father was dead. But the bitterness she’d felt towards Matt had never gone away. She’d even convinced herself that the love they’d shared had been only a mirage. She was an independent woman these days and she wanted to keep it that way.
Ergo, the divorce.
Even so, she hadn’t been prepared for learning that Matt had been ill. When Sophie had first told her what had been going on, her reaction had made a mockery of everything she’d claimed.
She’d truly believed she was immune to Matt’s dark attraction; that she’d be able to look at him and speak to him without feeling the pull of his sensuality.
But once again, she’d been wrong...
YET WHAT DID that mean? That she was having second thoughts? But no, Joanna assured herself severely. She was merely reacting to the sexuality of the man, not to any lingering emotions she might feel.
Matt was regarding her with brooding eyes. Clearly, he was as bemused by the situation as she was. But he evidently had his own agenda, and, gesturing towards the chairs, he said, ‘Why don’t you sit down? I’ll order some refreshments. If you didn’t come to find out if I was still alive, why are you here?’
Joanna hesitated. Did she really want to behave as if this were just a social visit? Yet what else could she do in the present circumstances?
So, ‘All right,’ she said offhandedly and a snap of Matt’s fingers brought one of the household staff to the patio.
He ordered both coffee and a jug of iced tea, and then suggested that Joanna should take the lounger beside his own.
There were several chairs set in the shade of a striped awning and, resigning herself to the situation, Joanna took the one he indicated. But she couldn’t help stiffening when Matt seated himself beside her, lowering the footrest and turning his chair sideways so that his bare knees were only inches from her own.
They were alone, and Joanna put down her handbag and smoothed her hair back from her face. It had been tumbled on the ride from the airport, and she wished she’d had time to use a comb. Sophie’s car was a convertible, and, endeavouring a compromise, Joanna looped several errant strands behind her ears.
Matt, watching her, couldn’t help noticing how silky her hair was and recalling how soft her skin used to feel beneath his hands. It had been too long since they’d been together and he was impatient to tell her that, whatever had gone before, he was sorry they’d been living apart.
But would she be any more inclined to hear it now than she had before?
Meanwhile, Joanna was wishing she hadn’t run into Sophie at the airport. A phone call to the Novaks’ house would have surely elicited the information that Matt had been ill and she might well have waited until tomorrow before contacting him. She was not without feelings, but if she’d been able to invite Matt to the hotel, she would have felt a little more in control.
‘So...’ Matt regarded her enquiringly, arching a dark brow. ‘Do I take it you have not forgiven me?’
Joanna pressed her lips together. His words were so unexpected. ‘Did you think I would?’
‘It has been nine months since your father died,’ declared Matt quietly. ‘I regret that whole incident, but it wasn’t my fault.’
Joanna stared at him. ‘Yes, so you said,’ she declared coolly. ‘Nevertheless, my father trusted you.’
‘And I trusted him,’ he said harshly, unable to prevent himself, ‘which shows what a fool I was. Angus Carlyle trusted no one. Even your mother realised that.’
‘Leave my mother out of this,’ exclaimed Joanna tersely. ‘She was hardly a role model. She had an affair with another man.’
‘Not while she was married to your father. Glenys met Lionel Avery after she’d asked for a divorce,’ declared Matt flatly. ‘I hope you haven’t continued to hold that against her.’
‘My relationship with my mother is no concern of yours.’
‘No.’ Matt conceded the fact. ‘But Angus was a jealous man, Jo. He resented the fact that she was happy. He resented our marriage, as well.’
‘That’s not true!’
‘Of course, it’s true. You were his little girl. He wanted to keep you that way. I’m surprised he let you work at Bellamy’s gallery. He can’t have known the guy was in love with you, too.’
Joanna’s jaw dropped. ‘That’s ridiculous! David doesn’t love me.’
Matt shrugged and expelled a weary breath. Reaching for her hand, he ran his fingers sensuously over her knuckles. ‘Let’s not talk about Bellamy or your father, Jo. The past is the past. I prefer to think about the future.’
Joanna had felt as if she were frozen until he touched her, but now she snatched her hand away. ‘We have no future,’ she said abruptly. ‘You have to know that.’
Matt’s expression darkened once again. ‘I know nothing of the kind,’ he replied, though there was a trace of bitterness in his tone now. ‘Are you going to let your father’s lies ruin your whole life?’
‘My father didn’t lie to me,’ she declared stiffly. ‘He told me the truth.’
‘His truth.’ Matt gazed at her with frustrated eyes. ‘I love you, Jo. Tell me what I can do to make things right.’
It was an actual effort, but Joanna dragged her eyes away from his. ‘I haven’t come here to try and mend our differences.’
Matt’s lips twisted. ‘I had guessed that.’
‘So, you must have realised—’
But she didn’t get to finish her sentence. Before she could blurt out that the only reason she was here was because she wanted a divorce, the man who had taken Matt’s order for refreshments returned.
And he wasn’t alone. An older woman, dressed in grey silk lounging pants and a matching grey smock, emerged from the villa behind them.
‘Matt,’