Marie Ferrarella - Las Vegas - Seduction - The Heiress's 2-Week Affair

She frowned, then stepped back, opening the door wider. “I can’t help feeling like I’ve just opened my door to the Trojan horse.”

Walking in, Matt grinned at her. Her stomach tightened instantly. “Don’t worry, there’re no tiny men wearing armor in the bag.”

It wasn’t tiny men in armor she was worried about. It was the very large, very real one who was walking into her house that concerned her.

Natalie pointed Matt toward her kitchen.

He crossed to it quickly, setting the bag down on the table. Then he went to the sink and ran cold water over his hands to take the sting out.

“So how did the family meeting go?” he asked in a conversational tone. When she didn’t answer, he looked at her over his shoulder. Natalie returned her weapon to its holster, putting the safety back on. “I figured you might want to vent a little.”

She handed Matt a dish towel to dry his hands. “Why are you being so nice?” she inquired.

Taking the towel, he dried his hands, then left the towel on the counter. “Why do you always have to question everything? Just accept what’s happening.”

Natalie folded the towel and put it back in its place. “I did that once and had my heart ripped out of my chest. I’m a little more cautious these days.”

His eyes were drawn to her hands. “You’re not married.” It was a rhetorical statement. He already knew that.

Her first instinct was to hide her hands behind her back, but she didn’t. Instead, she took out a handful of napkins from a supply she kept in the pantry.

“No.”

“Were you?” he pressed, watching her move about the kitchen. “Ever?”

She shot him an impatient look. “Did you bring dinner or a questionnaire?” And then she sighed as she took out two tall glasses from the cupboard. “No,” she answered stiffly. “I’ve never been married. I decided that the male species was just too unstable to build a relationship with or to trust.”

He had the good grace to wince. “Ouch.”

Moving Matt aside, she opened the bag he had brought and saw that there were two large covered containers inside it instead of just one. Natalie raised her eyes to his face.

“There’re two portions here.”

His expression was the soul of innocence. “I didn’t eat, either.”

Removing first one container, then the other, she placed them both on the table.

“And they’re still warm.”

He nodded interceptively. “They do some pretty magical things in that Rainbow kitchen.”

“The waitress was bringing these out eight hours ago—when I left,” she reminded him. Natalie opened the containers one at a time, and a small cloud of steam emerged from each.

He spread his hands wide, adding a little shrug at the end. “Like I said, magical.”

Yeah, right. “You ordered fresh portions, didn’t you?”

Why was he going through all this trouble for someone he’d walked out on? Someone he made no effort to contact in the last eight years? Why was he messing with her like this?

Matt held his hands up in front of her, his wrists touching as if he expected to be led off in handcuffs. “I always loved that steel-trap mind of yours. Take me away, Officer Rothchild.”

She had a very real urge to double up her fist and punch him in the arm.

“That’s Detective Rothchild,” she corrected, then shook her head and blew out a loud sigh, hoping that it would sufficiently distract him from seeing the involuntary smile on her lips. But Natalie could see by his grin that he hadn’t missed it. “Idiot,” she pronounced.

There was no arguing with that. “In more ways than one,” he assured her.

This time, her sigh was weary. “Why are you talking in riddles?”

The serious lapse was gone. “I thought women liked men of mystery.”

Oh no, he wasn’t going to suck her into an exchange of banter. She wanted some kind of answers.

“We were way past the ‘liking’ stage once, Schaffer.” Taking out two forks and steak knives, she deposited them on the table, then took down two dinner plates to join them. “You were the one who left, not me.”

He watched her move around, taking in every fluid motion. A deep-seated longing took root. “We can still be friends.”

“No,” she replied emphatically, “we can’t. I’m not one of those broad-minded women who thinks that turning her exes into ‘pals’ is the adult thing to do.”

He looked confused. “Then why did you ask me to help you?”

Natalie deposited the contents of one container onto a plate, then followed suit with the other. She flung the empty containers into the lined garbage pail beneath her sink before answering.

“Because, whether I liked it or not, I needed your help. You got me the tapes—thank you,” she tagged on as an afterthought, the two words all but burning her tongue as she uttered them.

He knew that cost her, and he couldn’t help being amused. “You’re welcome.”

“And having you there got me an ‘audience’ with your boss.” She needed to rule her father’s chief rival out. “I can bluff my way through this, but the fact of the matter is, I’m a pariah as far as investigating my sister’s murder goes.”

“You are too close,” he pointed out.

So much for his taking her side in this, she thought bitterly.

“No one else is close enough,” she countered. “It’s a high-profile case, but let’s face it, we’re not exactly without dead bodies in this town. This isn’t Parker and Davidson’s only homicide.”

“And it is yours?” Matt questioned. He was well aware of the fact that the LVPD’s homicide division was understaffed.

There were open cases on her desk but none that mattered to her as much as this one. Besides, she couldn’t work on them off the job.

“I’m on bereavement leave,” she reminded him, “so, yes, right now it is.” Moving from the table, she crossed to the refrigerator to get a diet cola for herself. “You want a soda? Or something a little stronger?” she added, recalling that he didn’t much care for diet drinks and that was all she stocked in the way of soda.

He opted for the latter. “A little stronger.”

She waited for him to follow up his choice with something more specific. “What?”

You.

Matt wondered how she’d respond if he’d said that out loud. Probably tell him to go to hell. But he was there already, because seeing Natalie and not having her was much harder on him than he’d ever thought it would be. “Vodka, if you have it. Or beer,” he amended. From where he sat, he could see into the refrigerator. There were a couple of bottles in the door. “Anything, really. I’m easy.”

She turned around, holding two bottles of beer in her hands.

“No,” she replied. “You’re not.” Taking a bottle opener out of the drawer, she flipped the cap off one bottle and then the other. Natalie handed him the first one and rather than sit down, she remained standing over him. “What are you doing here, Matt?”

He avoided her eyes. He’d gotten good at lying, but he never could to her. Which was why he’d left a note in his wake rather than stay to talk to her.

“I told you, I wanted to bring you dinner.”

Liar. “Is that the only reason you’re here?” she pressed. “To make sure I eat?”

This time he did raise his eyes to hers. “That, and because I still like looking at you, Natalie. You are still one of the most beautiful creatures God ever created.”

Wow…he sure did know how to press her buttons. How to torture her.

“I can’t do this,” she told him suddenly. “I can’t do this.”

He didn’t follow her. “Do what?”

“I can’t sit here opposite you and pretend I don’t feel anything, that I don’t still—”