Red-Hot Affairs. Lucy King

narrow strip of bare flesh between the hem of her T-shirt and the waistband of her shorts.

      He wondered what it would feel like. Smooth. Silky. Warm. Undoubtedly. And what would it taste like? At the thought of his mouth against the skin of her stomach, moving lower and lower to see what she’d taste like, his mouth went dry and his pulse leapt.

      Hmm, he thought, shoving his fists in his pockets. Perhaps putting his hands on her wasn’t the wisest course of action. Conversation, polite but brief, it would have to be. Assuming he could speak, of course.

      ‘Are you all right?’ she asked, her brow creasing in concern.

      Matt gave his head a quick shake to dispel the lingering fuzziness and cleared his throat. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Why?’

      ‘You went very pale for a second.’

      ‘You startled me.’

      Her smiled widened and his temperature went up a notch. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I thought it would be safer to alert you to my presence rather than wait for you to barrel straight into me.’

      At the thought of his body colliding with hers, of having all that softness and warmth plastered against him, a bolt of desire kicked him in the gut. A vision of the two of them tumbling down onto the grass, limbs entwined, mouths jammed together, hands everywhere, slammed into his head and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest.

      So much for trying to kid himself that his reaction to her was simply shock. Shock had never given him an erection harder than granite.

      Great. Scorching attraction. Just what he needed.

      Matt’s jaw tightened. ‘I was deep in thought,’ he said, finally drumming up some of that steely control he was supposedly so famous for and hauling his body into line.

      She tilted her head to one side. ‘I could tell. And not about anything good by the looks of things.’

      ‘Not particularly.’

      ‘That’s a shame.’

      ‘Is it?’

      She nibbled on her lip and nodded. ‘I think so. Especially on a day like today.’

      ‘What’s so special about today?’ Apart from being the day he thought he might be losing his mind.

      ‘Well, for one thing, the sun is shining, and, this being Britain in May, that’s a cause for celebration. Plus the flowers are beautiful and the air smells heavenly.’

      Were they? Did it? Matt had been too wrapped up in his thoughts to notice. Now his thoughts had been scattered to the four winds. Forget the flowers. Forget the air. She was beautiful. She smelt heavenly. And her mouth was something else. ‘Really?’ he muttered, trying not to imagine what it would feel like crushed beneath his.

      She nodded. ‘A day like today should be all about lying on the grass, reading the papers and drinking rosé,’ she said, giving him another wide smile that had his control threatening to unravel all over again, ‘not marching around and glowering at the ground.’

      At that timely reminder about where he was and what he was supposed to be doing, Matt pulled himself together. This was ludicrous. If the people of Sassania could see the state of him now, they’d have thought twice about their decision to reinstate the monarchy.

      ‘Unfortunately I don’t have time to read the papers or drink rosé,’ he said sharply. And as for sprawling over the grass, well, the less he thought about that the better. ‘So, if you’ll excuse me …’

      She stuck out her hand. ‘Laura Mackenzie.’

      Matt resisted the urge to grind his teeth. ‘Matt Saxon.’ He took her hand and ignored the leap of electricity that shot up his arm. ‘Look, is there something I can help you with?’

      ‘I hope so.’ Her voice sounded a little hoarse and she ran her hand over her hip as she cleared her throat.

      Matt frowned. ‘If it’s directions you’re after I’m afraid I won’t be of much use.’ He spent so little time in the area he’d had to programme his satnav just to get here.

      She shook her head and the sun bouncing off her hair, dazzled him for a second. ‘I’m not after directions.’ She shot him another smile that made his stomach contract. ‘In fact I’m after you.’

      For a second Matt couldn’t work out what she was talking about. ‘Me?’

      She nodded and a chill, as if the sun had disappeared behind a cloud, snaked down his spine. The lingering trace of desire fled and his body tightened for an entirely different reason.

      Why would she be after him? How did she know who he was?

      Unless she’d been watching him.

      As suspicion slammed into him his pulse began to race. She couldn’t be …

      He ran his gaze over her again, this time skating over the curves and the clothing. This time his eyes clocked the camera slung over her shoulder. The corner of a notebook and the pen sticking out of the back pocket of her shorts. The hopeful, eager look on her face.

      The chill running through his body turned to ice. Oh, damn. It appeared she was.

      His gaze trailed back up and he scrutinised her features, comparing them against the bank of journalistic faces he’d filed away over the past few months. But he drew a blank. Whoever she worked for, he thought grimly, she was new.

      Stamping down hard on something that felt suspiciously like disappointment, Matt hardened his heart. Why was he surprised? Why was he disappointed? Once again life was simply proving that some people were only out for what they could get.

      ‘I’m glad we bumped into each other,’ she said.

      He just bet she was. ‘Why?’

      The smile faltered and her eyes widened a fraction at his tone. ‘I was on my way to see you.’

      ‘Were you?’ he drawled as a strange sort of numbness seeped through him.

      ‘You’ve come from the manor house.’

      ‘I have.’

      Matt shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his heels, deciding to wait and see to what lengths this one would go to wangle an interview. Her outfit was certainly designed to kill.

      ‘Nice place.’

      ‘Thank you,’ he said coolly.

      ‘Fabulous detail on the gabling.’

      ‘Really.’

      ‘Absolutely. And beautiful—er—grounds.’

      ‘Naturally.’

      ‘Are you the gardener?’

      Matt frowned. The gardener? Hah. ‘I’m the owner.’ As if she didn’t know.

      Her eyes widened. ‘Oh.’ And then she gave him a smile that had the ground beneath his feet tilting all over again before he could tell it not to. ‘Well, that’s even better.’

      ‘Of course it is.’

      She frowned and blinked. ‘What?’

      Oh, she did the innocent thing very well. ‘What do you want?’ he said.

      Laura’s smile faltered. ‘If it’s not too much trouble, I was wondering if I could come over and take some photos. Of your house,’ she added.

      Too much trouble? Matt’s jaw clenched. The complete and utter gall of the woman.

      ‘It would only be for a second,’ she added, as if sensing his reluctance. ‘You know, just a few shots. If you wouldn’t mind …’

      Matt’s tenuous grip on his patience snapped. ‘Yes, I do mind, and no, you can’t.’

      The