Trading Secrets (31 page)

Matt thought about that first night as his hand slipped down to Sabrina’s breast. That was another situation in which he’d severely blotted his copybook. Did she still worry that he might occasionally confuse her with Ginny? Perhaps that was another factor in her hesitation to commit herself to marriage.

So many gray areas, he thought desperately. So much he couldn’t wipe out or reassure her about. How could he convince her that even that first night in Acapulco he hadn’t actually confused her with his ex-wife? Nor had he been subconsciously trying to punish Ginny by assaulting Sabrina. Drunk as he had been, he’d simply determined to save the daring little would-be adventuress who had shown up at his table. He’d told himself he’d be doing a good deed by scaring her off the path she had decided to try.

But looking back, that stupid scene must constitute one more mark against him in her mind. Actually, Matt decided grimly, it was a wonder she was even willing to let him live with her.

When faced with the qualms and hesitations inherent in a woman’s view of the universe, there was only one thing a man could do. Matt pushed the gnawing thoughts out of his head and concentrated instead on giving Sabrina the one source of satisfaction he knew he could provide. He might not be able to put her mind at rest about his jumbled motives for wanting marriage, but he sure as hell could enforce the physical bond between them.

Sabrina sensed the change in Matt as she lay beneath his hardening body. He must be finally coming fully awake, she thought fleetingly. Or else his mind had been on something else while she kissed him. But suddenly he was one hundred percent with her.

His lovemaking reminded her a little of the way he had made love the night before he’d left for Buena Ventura. She didn’t question it, just accepted the full force of his passion with an eager heart.

One thing was for certain: Matt wanted her. The hunger in him was heavy and deep. She sighed with growing excitement as his rough-tipped fingers began a teasing pattern on her breasts. His kiss abruptly turned demanding and she responded willingly, allowing his tongue to explore the moist hollows behind her teeth.

“God, I missed you,” Matt moaned, reluctantly dragging his mouth free. He looked down at her in the morning sunlight, his fist locked in her tousled hair, his hazel eyes gleaming with mounting desire. “All I thought about most of the time was getting back to you.”

“I’m glad.” She smiled, running her palms over the contours of his bare shoulders.

He groaned, arched his hips heavily against hers, and then lowered his mouth to her breast. She felt his legs tangling with her own, sensed the fierce demand of his manhood as it began to probe for her softness, and she gave herself up to the pleasure of finding pleasure with Matt.

The scarred fingertips passed tantalizingly down her body, over her hips, and around to the insides of her thighs. She began to cling to him with increasing urgency, wrapping him in a lover’s embrace that was stronger than she knew. And when she was hot, her body flooding with the liquid warmth, he finally came to her in a sudden rush of strength and need that dominated the small bedroom.

Afterward they lay in an intimate silence. Sabrina felt Matt’s fingers stroking through her hair with absent affection as he lay beside her. She stretched languidly, remembering something.

“I almost forgot,” she murmured. “Call your parents.”

The hand that had been moving through her hair stopped. “Any good reasons why I should?” Matt asked.

“The maid says you’ve ignored them long enough.” Sabrina nestled her head against his chest and toyed with a tuft of hair that came within her range of vision.

“When did you talk to the maid?”

“When I was trying to find out if your parents had been notified of your unfortunate accident on Buena Ventura. The accident that was supposed to have landed you in a Puerto Rican hospital.”

“Ah, yes. Griffin and Shadwell’s fairy tale. So you called my parents’ home and got the maid, hmmm? Did she explain to you the fact that I’m an embarrassment to my parents? They don’t exactly relish hearing from me.”

“People change, Matt. I think you should call.”

“I thought you were the one who was so big on independence,” he complained.

“I am. But you shouldn’t lose touch with your family, and I get the feeling you have.”

Matt was quiet for a long moment. “I lost touch with a lot of things down in Mexico. Which explains, I suppose, why I didn’t immediately follow you to Dallas.”

Sabrina decided not to pursue that. “And speaking of families …”

“
Ummm
?”

“As long as I’m this far, I think I’d better take a look at my new nephew.”

“Does this mean you’re going to introduce Brad and me to the Brothers Grim and your father?” Matt asked cautiously.

“Worried?”

“Just practical. Something tells me that whatever doubts you’ve got about my suitability as a husband are probably going to be multiplied a thousand times in the minds of three bankers.”

“Since we’re not going to bring up the subject of marriage, that problem shouldn’t arise, should it?” she argued logically.

On the other hand, Matt thought speculatively, a few strongly voiced objections from the three people whose advice Sabrina had been rejecting since the age of two might prove helpful. One of the things he had learned when it came to eliciting obedience was that the indirect methods occasionally worked best. It was probably half-instinctive in Sabrina now to resist advice and instructions from her father and brothers. A trait he could definitely work to his advantage.

“Hell,” Matt said aloud. Did he really want her to agree to marry him just because her father objected? He must be getting more desperate than he thought.

“What’s wrong?” Sabrina asked.

“Nothing. I’ll call my folks.” Damn it, he was getting as greedy as Sabrina, Matt decided. He wanted her to marry him because she had decided he was the right man for her, not because her family’s objections prodded her into it. But a man in his position could not be choosy, Matt reminded himself.

Sabrina’s phone call to her father’s home later that day produced astonishment, complaints about lack of warning, and the demand that she show up by six that evening.

She arrived on schedule, escorted by Matt and his son. Everyone else had arrived ahead of the out-of-town visitors, and dinner, cooked by Jeffrey’s wife, was in the oven. By seven o’clock Sabrina had admired little James Bennet Chase, reacquainted herself with the fact that she had always liked her sisters-in-law, and skirted several pointed questions about her relationship with Matt. Sabrina had an extra glass of wine before seating herself at the dinner table. She knew she was going to need a little fortification.

Until now things had been going relatively smoothly, but Sabrina knew from experience that a meal with three bankers could become a test of will. Covertly she surveyed the ring of faces around the table as Liz, Jeffrey’s wife, began organizing the serving of her perfect paella.

Bennet Chase, suitably ensconced at the head of the table, was the image of a solid, dependable banker. His silver hair was thinning rapidly, but that only added to the respectable appearance. Jeffrey and Nolan, both in their thirties, had inherited the square-jawed, sober mien of their father.

In all honesty, Sabrina had to admit, while the three men had the look of good bankers and could certainly project the temperament, they were not completely one-sided. She had seen the pleasure in her father’s eyes before dinner when he exhibited his grandson, and the satisfaction in Nolan’s face was genuine. Jeffrey even joked about getting on with the business of starting his own family.

But, then, Sabrina reminded herself, they had always been a family in most senses of the word. It was natural that her father would be pleased at seeing the next generation started.

Liz and Mary, her sisters-in-law, were both attractive women who dressed well, paid proper respect to their husbands’ careers, and thoroughly enjoyed their roles as homemakers. They handled the business of being bankers’ wives with aplomb. And there was no doubt that they loved their husbands.

Liz and Mary had always been friendly to Sabrina, who had responded with affection. But there had always been a slight distance in her relationship to the other two women, and Sabrina knew it was caused by her sense of somehow being different. She didn’t share their deeply maternal drives. She would never have been content to play the role of a banker’s wife in a small town, and she could never have handled Jeffrey’s or Nolan’s natural male arrogance with such calm acquiescence. But Sabrina was deeply grateful to both women for having made her brothers happy. For that fact alone she would always like them enormously.

Brad had been rather quiet since arriving, conscious as only a thirteen-year-old can be of not making a social error. He eyed the paella with some trepidation, and Sabrina guessed he’d never eaten the spicy seafood-and-rice concoction.

Matt was turning into the unpredictable factor at the table. Sabrina found herself as wary of him as Brad was of the paella. She didn’t quite know what to make of him tonight. Neither did anyone else, apparently, but they were intent on finding out just where he fit into Sabrina’s life. Sabrina listened to the delicate, probing questions and decided that this was the reason she’d rarely brought any of her few high-school dates home to meet the family. Even if the dates could have endured the gauntlet, it annoyed her.

“How long have you lived in Dallas, Matt?” Bennet asked easily, helping himself to the spinach salad.

“Long enough to feel obliged to chip in on the rent.” He smirked at Sabrina and she felt her blood pressure rapidly rise.

Bennet seemed oblivious to the innuendo. “And you met Sabrina soon after you arrived?”

“I met Sabrina down in Mexico. She was on vacation in Acapulco, looking for a few souvenirs. You know how it is.”

Nolan, one eyebrow raised, glanced across the table and met Jeffrey’s disapproving gaze. “And your work, Matt? Is it in Mexico?”

“Actually, I’m unemployed at the moment. I’ll be job-hunting when we return to Dallas.”

“What’s your field?” Nolan inquired blandly.

“Books.”

“You write them?”

“I sell them.”

“I see,” Nolan nodded rigidly. “This recent adventure on, what was it called? Buena Ventura? Does that represent a,
er
, secondary career for you?”

The family had been given a pared-down version of the story before dinner. They had been shocked. Knowing what to expect in advance, Sabrina had ordered both Matt and Brad to stick to the bare outlines of the tale, which excluded her rather active role at the cabin. Instinct had warned her that if either her brothers or her father reached the conclusion that Matt had put her in danger, they would go through the roof. For some reason she couldn’t quite explain, she wanted her family to like Matt.

Matt, for perverse reasons known only to himself, was not cooperating. Several times during the questioning she tried to catch his eye, but he ignored her.

“My father was on a special mission down on that island,” Brad broke in defensively. Everyone turned to look at him, and Sabrina’s heart went out to the boy. He must have sensed the barely veiled hostility being directed against Matt.

“You work for the government?” Bennet Chase asked, frowning at Matt. “In addition to selling books?”

“No.”

The lack of information was clearly driving the three bankers crazy. In the end it was Liz and Mary who stepped in to redirect the conversation. Thank God for the social skills of bankers’ wives, Sabrina thought, reaching for her wineglass.

“You three will be staying here tonight?” Liz asked politely. “We changed the beds. Matt and Brad can have Nolan’s old room and you can have your own, Sabrina. Tomorrow we’ll all have to get together for lunch. How long will you be staying?”

“Not long,” Sabrina said quickly. “I have to get back to the store. No paid vacations when you run your own business, you know.”

“When do you think you will have had enough of that souvenir stand in Dallas, Sabrina?” her father asked pointedly. “It’s time you went back to the profession for which you were trained.”

“I understand Sabrina ran into some trouble pursuing her career in California,” Matt interjected cheerfully. He ignored the hard stares that met the remark. “Getting bounced out of the state gives her something in common with me, you know.”

“It does?” Bennet asked forbiddingly.

“Got myself kicked out of the Army a couple of years ago.”

“I see.” Bennet Chase’s voice was now almost frozen solid. He rose as the meal came to an end. “Perhaps we should continue this discussion in my den while the ladies take care of the dishes.”

Sabrina was horrified. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” she began heatedly.

But Nolan and Jeffrey were already on their feet. “Stay here and talk to Liz and Mary,” Jeffrey advised. “You haven’t been home in quite a while.”

There was nothing she could do, and Matt certainly wasn’t fighting matters. He walked off to the den surrounded by the three male Chases without any sign of resistance. She’d seen films in which brave prisoners of war marched off to the firing squad with that resolute expression on their faces. She had never liked war movies.

Sabrina turned back to find Liz and Mary watching her with eloquent sympathy. “You see why I don’t come home very often?” Sabrina asked in disgust.

Liz smiled with sudden assurance. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Sabrina. Matt looks like he can take care of himself.”

Brad stirred uneasily in his chair, clearly at a loss to understand exactly what was going on but aware that it wasn’t altogether pleasant. Sabrina looked at him encouragingly. “Why don’t you go watch television in the living room?”

“Do you want some help with the dishes?” he asked doubtfully.

“No, thanks, we’ll take care of them,” Mary advised gently. The boy fled.

Liz poured some after-dinner coffee and sat back in her chair. “What the hell is going on, Sabrina?”

“I wish I knew.”