Chapter Nineteen
Dylan took several rapid steps backwards until he placed the voice and relaxed with a sigh, “Matilda? Is that you?”
He had the decency to look away, but not before noting every sweep and curve of the body in front of him, the misty glance only seeming to enhance the seductiveness of the vision. Groaning he reached for a towel as she answered angrily.
“Who else were you expecting?”
He laughed, “I wasn’t expecting anyone! I didn’t...I can’t...”
“GET ME A BLOODY TOWEL!” She screeched, “and be the decent man and look away!”
Huffing he turned away and grabbed for the towel she’d left on the radiator, “you’d think I was a Peeping Tom or something. It’s not as if I haven’t seen this all before!”
The shriek that accompanied the hand that darted out of the shower to snatch the towel caused him to shudder. Then he heard the shower door open, he kept his eyes averted until he heard a throat clearing cough. When he finally glanced up it was to see Matilda stood in front of him, the towel wrapped around her and tucked under her arms, arms that were clamped at her side in anger.
“Can you at least let me get dressed? And put clothes on yourself!”
That made him laugh, “what can’t concentrate with this much skin around?”
He hated that he sounded cocky, but he couldn’t begin to deal with the reality of the moment. She opened her mouth to unleash what he was sure would be a flurry of abuse when he held up his hand to silence her, “Ok, ok. I shouldn’t have said that. But this is not my bad. Think of that before you unleash your wrath Matilda. I just want a shower.”
With that he backed out of the room rather rapidly.
Mattie slumped against the sink and dropped her head. SO many emotions were raged through her in aggressive pulses of tension that threatened to take her breath away. When she’d heard someone enter the room she’d panicked, felt fear swamp her, but once she realised it was Dylan she had become angry. But he was right it wasn’t his fault, it was hers. And she’d never felt so embarrassed or ashamed as she did now, thinking of how she’d pulled a towel around her body and confronted him angrily in his own bathroom.
She’d come out of the shower booth desperate to slap him, scream at him, but he’d diffused that in an instant by making her realise that SHE was the intruder. Now all she was left with was the memory of him stood in front of him, face flushed, eyes sparkling and a muscular bare chest that was nothing like the one she remembered from the years of her marriage.
She shuddered at that realisation, but then he was a man...she’d married a boy.
“Wrong thoughts!” She chastised herself loudly, and instead pulled on her t-shirt and leggings. Gym wear was hardly battle attire, then she again gave herself a shake. She was defensive because she’d been caught unawares, and she didn’t need to take that out on Dylan. A few deep breaths and she’d managed to control her racing heart and lurching nausea. She had nothing in the bathroom with her, her bag, her makeup, even her hairbrush were all on the bed in the second bedroom.
Reaching for the steamed up mirror, she cleared enough of the reflective surface it with her fist to see her face and then groaned. Her hair was like scrawny rats tails hanging down her face and back, and she had no bra...her damp skin and the humidity of the room meant her t-shirt was sticking to her.
Nothing he hasn’t seen before, a voice in her head reminded her rather painfully. Whatever happened, she had to face him again. So she drew her fingers through her tangled locks as best she could, then with yet another deep breath she opened the door to the lounge fighting the apprehension that threatened to overwhelm her.
Dylan was the far side of the room still pacing, his hands running almost automatically through his hair. When he heard the door open he looked up and Matilda hated the haunted expression in his eyes, he was feeling terrible, and now that she’d had a moment to think it through she knew he’d done nothing wrong. He didn’t deserve her anger, or to feel so bad.
“Sorry Dylan, I had no idea you were coming back...you haven’t used this suite for ages...”
He sighed, “I shouldn’t have just burst in...and I shouldn’t have...”
Mattie moved towards the bedroom, “let me just get changed.” His bare chest was having a disconcerting effect on her, and she was aware of how her body was betraying her through the damp t-shirt, folding her arms she tried to cover her hard nipples, but wasn’t sure that it was soon enough. Dylan’s eyes were on her as she disappeared into the room.
Dylan had the quickest, coldest shower known to man and was once again anxiously pacing the room when he heard the door open from the second bedroom. Matilda stood there, wet hair pulled back into a pony tail, dressed in jeans and a thin sweater, fortunately now she had a bra on, he could tell that much and his much battered libido breathed a sigh of relief. It had been torture to watch her stood in front of him, body alert and calling to him. Whether it was the temperature, the adrenaline or something more he wasn’t sure, but he knew that for a split moment he had an undeniable urge to ravish her, to see if her body was as desperate as his.
Taking a deep breath he stepped towards her, “are you ok?”
She nodded, her hands clasped into fists, “I’m sorry for the intrusion, and I‘m sorry for shouting at you.”
He sighed and looked at the ceiling for a second, “don’t be stupid, you are welcome to use this room any time you want. I should have spoken to them at reception when I arrived...”
Matilda shook her head, “I didn’t want the staff to gossip so I didn’t tell anyone.” As he paced again she giggled, “you were doomed really.”
Dylan slumped on to the sofa, he didn’t know what he was struggling with, the fact that he’d caught his ex wife naked, the fact that it wasn’t the worst sight that had greeted him in a long time, or that suddenly the animosity was back marking the space between them with a vengeance. Just when they were starting to get along. He shook his head, he hated that he was so affected by her, by her vulnerability, that he could hate himself for something that wasn’t his fault because of how upset she was. It had taken him years to get over feeling like this about her; he couldn’t let her back into his life, not like that, not again.
Leaning back he looked at her, stood like a child caught misbehaving, her ankles crossed, arms behind her back and her head hung in half shame. He had to rescue this situation, so he called out to her.
“About time you were sorry for something, Miss Perfect never normally admits it.”
That made her eyes flair, her nostrils widen in anger. That was what he could deal with, that was the Matilda that he could manage, angry, indignant. Gone was the vulnerable child, and his heart strings were suddenly un-tugged. As she stalked towards him he laughed.
“Sit down woman. We’ve got lots to talk about, I’m tired, starving and need feeding. You eaten?”
She shook her head and that initiated a smile, “you can choose from room service.”
Eyeing him suspiciously she took the menu he held out then watched as he crossed to the mini bar and pulled out a bottle of beer.
“You want one?”
Mattie was fighting everything on SO many levels, but the thought of pizza, a cold beer and sleep...was overwhelming. With a silent nod she lowered herself in to a chair the far end of the room to him. Then held her breath as he walked towards her with the bottle. She snatched at it clumsily, needing him out of her personal space, and she knew that he got her anxiety as he gave a throaty chuckle.
“You want pizza?” he asked when she handed him the menu.
“Yes please. Pepperoni, sausage and jalapeno.”
Sitting opposite he stared at her for a moment, “Wow, that’s a serious set of toppings.”
Lifting an eyebrow she settled back in her seat and watched him, “got into spicier food the last few years.” She didn’t add that it was a tactic to compensate for the lack of taste in the bland, cheap pasta dinners that had been all she could afford for years.
He dialled the kitchen and ordered them a rather large selection of food, then moved across the room to the TV, turning it on he found a radio station playing self professed ‘Classic Tunes’, then sat back down.
“So what did you want to talk about?”
Dylan reached for the wad of papers he’d brought across the Atlantic with him, and placed them on the coffee table in front of him, “got a few ideas, need your advice. But that’s tomorrow. You’re working I understand.”
She nodded, “then I’m off for two days.”
“Shit! Sorry but I need you Monday. I’ve got us meetings with interior designers in Earls Court. There’s a huge conference there. I can’t do that without you.”
Groaning she closed her eyes, “this place already rules my life, what does one more day matter?”
He grinned, “sorry...”
Opening her eyes she shook her head, “no, it’s ok. I have nothing else on; it’s just been a long weekend.”
“Hence you staying here.”
She gave a nod, “there seems no point leaving here to go home after nine when I’ve got to be back in twelve hours. So I stay on occasion.”
Smiling he stood to get them another beer, “do you always stay here?
Grimacing she shook her head, “I’ve got a very comfortable couch in my office.”
His eyes almost popped out of his head, “there is NO way you will be sleeping on a sofa. Jesus Matilda, what the hell are you doing?”
That rubbed Mattie up completely the wrong way, she wasn’t proud of the way she had lived her life, bordering on poverty, but she’d taken her debt head on, and of THAT she was proud.
“I have lived my life in the best way I could. And YOU have nothing to do with me, you can’t judge me, you can’t comment, because you weren’t there. I was. And I’ve done my best; I have done everything I could to keep my self-respect, because for as long as you were off swanning around making millions, I was surviving. If I could afford a home in the centre of London maybe I’d commute, but I can’t, I don’t.”
She had stood during her speech, and as she made for the door, Dylan’s voice stopped her, “don’t walk out.” She turned slowly and he offered a half smile, “sorry. I wasn’t referring to where you live or what you do...I just can’t believe that you’d choose a sofa when there are spare rooms. I’m commenting on your excellent work ethic and the fact that you seem to put this job above everything else. I worry about your safety...you don’t seem to care about yourself.”
Mattie looked at him and swallowed, his observation, his concern made her want to cry, and she hated that. As Dylan walked towards her sympathy on his face she immediately had to back away, he unnerved her on so many levels.
Giving a breathy laugh he followed her to the corner of the room, “I thought we were over this anger Matilda, I can’t keep apologising...if I could turn back time.”
She looked up, he was invading her personal space again, “that wouldn’t make any difference, would it?”
He shook his head, “and it’s the future we need to concentrate on, not the past, or even the present.”
That was met with a tense slightly awkward silence as the events of the evening replayed in both their minds.