Molly Matthews Meddles in Marriage (6 page)

She peered out of the window, watching the London landscape flash by, the rain still thrashing against the pavements.

“How much further on do you live from me?” she asked.

“About twenty minutes or so.”

“Look, do you want to pop in at mine to dry off? If you spend too long in those soaking clothes, you’ll catch your death. I’d hate to be held responsible for that. Especially before I’ve found you a wife.”

He smiled, that lazy smile, the one that did funny things to Molly’s insides.

“Actually, I could murder a coffee, if you’re sure?”

Molly fumbled with her keys, unable to remember if she’d left the flat in a visitor-worthy state when she rushed out the door this morning. It was too late to worry about that now, but she still sighed with relief when she wasn’t greeted by a selection of newly laundered undies hanging over the radiators. Or worse still, a pile of dirty knickers sitting next to the washing machine. She kicked off her shoes and hung her handbag over the back of a chair.

“Go through,” she ordered Rory. “Just make yourself at home. I’ll go and pop the kettle on and find you some warm towels. I’ve put your coat over the radiator and if you want to give me your wet clothes, I’ll put them into the tumble dryer. They shouldn’t take long to dry.”

Rory wandered off into the living room.

“Do you take sugar?” she called from the kitchen, as she spooned coffee into two mugs.

“One please!”

She dashed upstairs, threw off her wet trousers and blouse, pulled on some tracksuit bottoms and a pink fleece and then grimaced as she passed her reflection in the mirror. Really, it was no way to be entertaining a good-looking man, even if he was only a client.

Especially if he was a client.

Any makeup she’d been wearing had been wiped clean away by the rain and her hair, unruly at the best of times, had spiraled into a frenzy of wayward curls. She grabbed a couple of towels from the airing cupboard and ran back down the stairs.

“Here you…” That final word completely slipped her mind as she confronted the image of Rory in her living room. Semi-naked in only a pair of black briefs, he stood totally unabashed in the center of the room, his wet clothes hung neatly over his arm, looking as if he were auditioning for the role of a naked butler. She had no idea where to look, although if she ever needed to pick out that pair of trunks in an identity parade, she had them down to a tee. Black and brief with the finest contrast piping around the waistband and the legs. And brief. Very, very brief.

“Towels,” she squeaked, handing them over at arm’s length.

“Thanks. And sorry for this.” He gestured to his body, as if he had anything to apologize for. “My body was about to go into hibernation.”

Hers was about to go into meltdown at the sight of Rory’s buff physique.

“No, that’s fine. Shall I take those from you?” she asked, relieving him of the soggy mass of material and trying desperately to retain eye contact. “I’ll go and pop these in the dryer.”

What had she expected? She stuffed the clothes into the machine and switched it on, breathing a sigh of relief as she slumped by the side. She’d been the one to suggest he take off his clothes in the first place, but she hadn’t expected… Well, she just hadn’t expected that. Not that she hadn’t seen a naked man before, but this wasn’t just any man, this was Rory Campbell. If she’d felt a desire to reach out and touch his face when she’d stood close to him in that alleyway, the desire to check out for herself the strong and muscular body currently hijacking her living room was overwhelming. Her poor old heartbeat had gone into overdrive inside her fleece.

She picked up the coffees and wandered back in to see him. What was she thinking inviting him back to her home? She’d never done that for any of her other clients, so why was she making so many concessions for Rory? She prided herself on her professionalism, for keeping her business life totally separate from her personal life. So what was going so wrong with Rory? It was too easy to forget she should be fixing him up with a wife.

Perhaps it was a good thing that he wanted to find his partner as quickly as possible. She’d always loved her job, enjoying the challenge of working closely with her clients, helping to find their happy ending. But with Rory, she realized with a sudden pang that she’d overstepped the mark, allowing her own personal feelings for someone she imagined she knew better than she actually did, to take over.

No, the sooner she could find Rory his bride and get him out of her life, the better. Then she could go back to worshiping him from afar. She didn’t like the complicatedness of Rory’s presence in her neatly ordered world.

Thankfully, in the living room, he now had one pink towel wrapped around his waist and the other covering his shoulders. Still a disturbing image, but slightly less disturbing than the one of him dressed only in his trunks. He was doing that thing of making himself completely at home and Molly had the feeling she was intruding on his time and space rather than the other way around. That’s why, of course, he felt it perfectly acceptable to strip off in a virtual stranger’s home. Being feted and adored by millions, he clearly had an overinflated sense of his own entitlement. Either that or it was something to do with the way Rory viewed her. Theirs was a business relationship. And that was all. She’d been indulging in fanciful romantic thoughts, reading far too much into perfectly innocuous situations. He, on the other hand, saw her as… Well, she didn’t know what exactly. But certainly not a fanciable woman.

He stood in front of her bookshelves, running a finger along the titles. Those towels did an adequate job of covering his trunks and shoulders, but there were still plenty of tantalizing glimpses of flesh on show. His whole body held a subtle bronze glow, highlighting the smattering of golden hairs over his legs and around his belly button. A belly that was tight and toned and rippling with definition.

She flopped down onto the sofa and grabbed a cushion, holding it over her own less-than-toned tummy.

“You’re a Marco Faro fan, are you?” He pulled out one of the many cookbooks from her vast collection from the enfant terrible of the London culinary scene.

“Hugely. I’ve got all his books, as you can see. I spend hours poring over his recipes. I’ve tried a few, but what I’d really like to do is visit one of his restaurants one day. When I win the lottery, of course,” she said with a resigned smile.

“He’s a good friend of mine,” he said matter-of-factly and Molly gasped in awe, wondering why she was surprised.

“Ah, good to see you have this one in your collection.” Smiling, he picked out the DVD with his own image on the cover. Julia Henry, one of the country’s most talented and beautiful actresses, had her arms draped around Rory’s body, looking up into his eyes longingly. A pang of disappointment filled Molly’s body. She knew that feeling of longing all too well at the moment.

“Did you like it?” he asked.

“One of my favorites,” she said. One she’d watched time and time again, and one she wanted to watch again, just as soon as Rory was gone.

He moved on to studying things on the mantelpiece, picking up and examining each of the photo frames in turn. If he ever tired of working in films, he could always find a job as an estate agent, such was his interest in all the nooks and crannies of her home. She tried to imagine doing the same thing in someone else’s house and couldn’t. She wouldn’t have the nerve.

“Oh wow, and who’s this? Sisters, I’m guessing?” He turned to face her, holding aloft a heart-shaped frame.

“Yes, my sister, Natalie and my mum actually.”

“Really?” She heard the element of surprise in his voice. “Wow!” She saw the admiration in his eyes. The unsaid question hanging in the air, could she really be related to these two women? “They’re gorgeous,” he added unnecessarily.

“Yes, everyone says so.” Molly hugged her cushion closer. “They’ve both worked as models in their time and are often mistaken for sisters.”

He let out a low, appreciative whistle. He held the image close in his hands, examining it intently, before seemingly remembering Molly’s presence.

“Beauty clearly runs in your family,” he said casually, with a smile, returning the photo to the shelf.

She shrugged, laughing, a response she’d had plenty of practice at over the years.

“I take after my dad,” she said, putting him straight.

“Do you see a lot of them, your family? Are they local?”

“Not really,” she answered. Not since she’d left her hometown five years earlier after her fiancé Paul dumped her for another woman, three months before they were due to marry. Not before giving her the parting news her that he’d only gone out with her in the first place to get close to her sister, Natalie. No, those sorts of reminders she could do without.

“They all live down on the South Coast. We’re all so busy, it’s hard to keep in touch.” She pushed the cushion to one side. “Excuse me, I’ll just go and see how those clothes are doing.”

Molly’s flat was just as Rory had imagined. Full of color and warmth with an outward sense of order, but underneath all the neat piles of books, DVDs, papers and magazines, he sensed there was a wild and uncontrollable energy just waiting to be let loose. A bit like Molly herself.

He would just finish his coffee and then make a move. He sensed he’d already overstayed his welcome. At work, he was used to getting his kit off and padding about in his underwear in front of actors and directors, the crew, makeup girls and any other assorted people wandering around the set, without a second thought.

Only he wasn’t on a film set now and judging by Molly’s expression, he’d clearly made her feel very uncomfortable when he’d taken off those wet clothes. Horrified even. And then when he’d asked her about her family, he sensed he was treading on territory that she had no desire to be discussing.

Shame really. In any other circumstances with any other woman, there would only have been one natural conclusion to the evening’s activities. Molly was a great-looking woman and they’d had such a good time tonight, the hours had flown past. And all that hoo-hah with the paparazzi she’d handled with such grace. But thinking about it now, he didn’t actually want to take her to bed. That was a definite first. No, what he wanted to do was to snuggle down on her sofa, with a glass of red wine, a DVD and most importantly, with Molly curled up tight in his arms. He certainly didn’t want to be going home, out in the cold night air. He shook his head, perplexed. Surely, age couldn’t be creeping up on him already?

Molly appeared in the doorway.

“I think these are dry now,” she said, handing over his clothes.

“Great. I’ll be on my way then. Thanks for the coffee. And for a great evening.”

“Yes. You too. And we’ll see you on Tuesday evening at the supper party?”

“Of course.” He leaned in to kiss her, slipping an arm around her waist, inhaling the delicious sweet scent of vanilla, her agonizing proximity having an immediate and overpowering impact on every pulse point in his body. Thinking about it, he wanted to do all those other things and take her to bed too.

“Can’t wait,” he said with a wry smile. At least he couldn’t wait to see Molly again.

Chapter Four

“What’s the matter?” Pippa asked as she tucked a chair beneath the abandoned table, a few empty wineglasses and some trailing paper decorations the only reminder of another successful evening. The last client had just departed and the effusive praise from all the diners was still ringing around the room.

“Nothing,” said Molly, sounding rattled even to her own ears as she concentrated on scribbling down some notes in her huge diary.

Pippa pulled an exaggerated face at Aaron who gave a resigned shrug in reply. One of Molly’s oldest friends, he’d been drafted to help out with the dinner party.

“I wouldn’t let Rory get to you,” Pippa ventured. “We might have known he would be a no-show. Those celebrities are a fickle bunch. He probably decided a marriage bureau wasn’t for him, after all. You have to admit, it’s a bit strange that he actually came to us in the first place.”

Molly snapped shut the diary.

“Strange? Why should it be? Celebrities face the same problems as the rest of us mere mortals, you know. As far as I’m concerned, he’s just another client.”

The most high-profile and seriously gorgeous client who had ever graced the doors, admittedly, but a client nonetheless. Trouble was, the memory of being held in his close embrace as he’d said goodbye the other evening had simply refused to leave her mind. The thought sent tiny ripples of delightful expectation to every part of her body.

“Besides, he’s paid his annual fee upfront so I can’t believe he’s had second thoughts. I just think it’s incredibly rude that he didn’t have the decency to ring to let us know he wouldn’t be able to make it.”
Especially after he held me like that
, she thought, suppressing a sigh.

Rude, annoying, irritating. There were a whole list of attributes she could tick off under Rory’s characteristics list. Sexy, dangerous and enticing too.

But more than that, it felt strangely personal. All evening her stomach had been churning with anxiety. Every time the door opened, her heart would soar in anticipation at the prospect of seeing Rory again, followed by a huge plummet of disappointment when she realized it wasn’t him after all. She couldn’t have felt worse if he’d stood her up on an actual date. The knowledge that he could have such an unsettling effect on her, after knowing him only a matter of days, was hugely disturbing. Perhaps it was better that he hadn’t turned up after all.

“Well, if you’ve finished with my services, I think I’ll make a move, if that’s okay?” Aaron stood, stifling a yawn, and Molly felt a pang of guilt at the lateness of the hour.

“Oh yes, you get off.” Thank goodness for Aaron, stepping in like that to make up the numbers. The female clients loved him. If he’d been so inclined, she could have married him off a dozen times already.

“Thanks for everything, Aaron.” Molly threw her arms around his neck, overwhelmed with gratitude. “You’ve been an absolute star,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I’m not sure what we would have done without you tonight.”