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Chapter 20 Continued
By the time they got to the party, it was in full swing, with a DJ playing music. There were about one hundred people, all with drinks in their hands. Carol and Mickey practically fled to find a waiter, leaving Sophie alone. She wondered how she would find Matthew amongst the crowd.
Working her way through, she eventually found him – surrounded by women, of course. They seemed dazzled by him, with their heads tilted toward him. He wore casual black jeans, and an expensive-looking, crisp, white shirt.
Sophie's knees wobbled like jelly as she approached, and she wondered whether Carol or Mickey might be right, and if she would see him with no clothes on.
He caught her eye, and shot her a lazy, sexy smile. He excused himself and broke from his conversation to approach her. Almost echoing her thoughts, he spoke. "It's good to see you." He offered her a glass to drink, the tips of his fingers somehow innocently brushing hers.
"Yes," she smiled. "You look great." She was acutely aware of her body responding to him, her neck arching up toward his tall frame, all her attention on him.
He shrugged. "And you look beautiful, as always." His tone was very casual, but closely followed by a devilish grin.
"The party's in full swing. And it's still quite early in the evening," she said, pushing a hand through her hair. There was a group of people sucking jelly shooters. "Everyone arrived yet?"
"Not quite, we're expecting another hundred people."
"Awesome place, awesome party. Oh, there's Eve." Sophie recognised Eve from the swimming centre and waved her over.
"Yes, Eve's here," Matthew sighed. "Talk to everyone, or do whatever you want to. But I'm hoping you won't talk to anyone else for too long. I would like to spend some time just with you, later on if it's possible?" He gave her a confident stare and then took his leave as Eve approached.
It wasn't as easy a task as he might have requested; as the volume of people increased, it was almost impossible to talk to Matthew. Everyone at the party wanted a second of his time.
At eleven thirty, Matthew made an announcement. The fireworks would be soon and anyone brave enough should go outside onto the terrace, because there would be a stunning view.
The party became chaotic as guests searched for coats and hoarded outside onto the terrace. In true English style, a crowd huddled to wait for the countdown.
Sophie shivered at the thought. "Want to join me outside?" Matthew asked, suddenly at her side.
"I have to get a wrap or a coat, or my cardigan. Otherwise, I'll freeze."
"Do you want my coat?"
"No, I'll only be one minute. I'll just run upstairs."
"Do you want me to come upstairs?" Matthew asked, flashing a dangerous smile. "I could keep you company?" The words were loaded with meaning. His expression gave her a distinct feeling that if he came upstairs, the equilibrium between them would certainly change.
She nodded.
He escorted her in silence, toward the lift. They entered, and she realised they rode alone together. She found safety, standing on the other side, keeping a distance from him.
The lift travelled up. Level three. Level four. Level five. They travelled without speaking, their eyes meeting in the door's reflection.
The lift doors opened and Sophie used every ounce of effort not to rush out and fling the door to the suite open. With painstaking effort they both entered the penthouse calmly and she hurried into the master bedroom to find her cardigan.
Half-frenzied, she searched for the garment. She tried to focus on finding her warm item of clothing but her head was full of thoughts of him. She could imagine Matthew peeling her clothes off and having his way with her, right there, in the master bedroom.
She tried to regulate her breathing. "Thanks for the suite, it's grand," she sang out, even though he stood casually by the master bedroom doorway. He watched her hungrily as she smiled at finding the cardigan. She pulled it on and fumbled with the buttons, finding it difficult to concentrate on anything other than the way he stood so very sexily by the doorway.
"Later, if you want, I could give you a tour of the rest of the hotel?"
"Sure," she agreed, exiting the room with speed.
"What do you think?" he asked, stopping by the large glass doors in the penthouse lounge. He gave her a sidelong glance. "This room has an excellent view."
"Yes, it's lovely," she approached him, and looked at the sea.
"I wanted to say something to you," he said, turning to face her. "I know it's early. But... Happy New Year." His voice was intense, and he reached to remove a strand of hair from her face.
"Happy New Year," she answered, feeling heat from where he touched her.
"You've missed one." He fumbled with her cardigan buttons. "You've got them all out of synch. I'll help you put this on properly. No need for you to be cold."
She laughed. "Thanks, I didn't realise." The pressure of his hands sent a shiver of anticipation through her body.
Their eyes locked. His arm circled her waist, and hauled her toward him. Any fear about them complicating their professional relationship vanished from her mind. She was lost in his handsome face and the intensity of his expression. His large blue eyes searched for any type of resistance.
She felt an urgent, sharp need for him to kiss her. Quickly. Otherwise she might lean in and be bold by making the first move, and she didn't want to do that.
He pressed his lips against hers. They were soft and the kiss was tender. Electricity soared between them and the intensity became harder and more passionate. He practically ripped off her cardigan. But he suddenly stopped, and pulled back.
"Sorry, Soph," he panted. "I don't want to rush anything between us if you don't want to. I mean if you're still in love with Derek."
She swallowed, feeling weak with wanting. "He's the last thing on my mind. I'm here with you, now," she whispered. Her hands affirmed her words, tugging gently at his belt buckle. She yanked his shirt from his jeans.
Her phone rang. The piercing sound broke through the energy surrounding them. "I'm sorry," she said, laughing nervously, her stomach flipping with butterflies. She wiped her tingling lips. "It's probably Mickey or Carol, wondering where I am. I'll just turn it on silent." With shaking hands she snatched her phone. She frowned seeing the caller identification screen: Gloria Smart.
"Hello?" she answered, taking the call. Her Mum wouldn't call her on New Year's Eve, unless there was something important.
"Sit down, Sophie."
"Why?"
"I don't know how to say this."
"Spit it out."
"It's your father."
"He's not having an affair Mum. I promise you."
"He's in hospital."
She gasped. "What hospital?" Panic gripped her and she felt the blood drain from her face. "Is he okay?"
"He's in casualty."
Sophie dropped the phone as her knees buckled, and Matthew somehow caught her, stopping her from falling. "I've been drinking. It's New Year's Eve. I've got to get there." She spoke mostly to herself, her eyes round, wild, conjuring a plan.
Matthew grabbed the phone.
"Hello. Hello, this is Matthew Silver. I'm with Sophie at a New Year's party. I heard you say'hospital.' What's going on and what hospital?"
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