Nikki Moore - Picnics in Hyde Park

‘It’ll matter if this only scratches the surface and we end up with a house so full we can’t move,’ he grinned disarmingly. Then he looked down at the shoe. ‘You’ve got expensive tastes, haven’t you? Got a rich guy secreted in the States somewhere who keeps you in the good stuff?’

‘Sorry, but that’s not really any of your business, Matt,’ she said stiffly. He was only joking but the comments hurt. Yes, she’d had a guy in the States, but contrary to what he might think she couldn’t be bought by pretty things, wouldn’t be blinded by them.

Temper flared in his eyes at her tone, but he didn’t respond straight away, instead gathering up the matching red shoe and disappearing into the cupboard, presumably to put the pair in the rack. ‘Fair enough,’ he said casually as he came back out, picking up a silk top from a pile on the side, ‘as long you’re not going to have some guy turning up out of the blue.’ He glanced at the king-sized bed behind her, and something in his expression tumbled her stomach, along with the way he was running his fingers absent-mindedly over the lace of the top’s neckline. ‘I don’t allow sleepovers in this house. That is in your contract.’

She turned to stare at the bed. Her eyes closed on a rush of heat, her skin prickling with awareness and she suddenly felt tongue-tied. Get it together. Anyone would think you were a teenage girl alone in your room with a boy for the first time. As much as she was aware of his astonishing hotness in her weaker moments, she wouldn’t act on it, mainly because of the whole Plan Nannygate and not liking him thing, but also because she wasn’t ready for anything after Greg’s betrayal. But back to the issue at hand, his comment on overnight guests. ‘That won’t be a problem.’ She met his gaze. ‘I’m single, and happy to stay that way.’ But she mustn’t be too adamant about it. At some point she needed to try and build a relationship between them, or at least the appearance of one. Which meant humour, trust, affection. Yuck.

‘Great! Good.’ He looked completely wrong-footed by the words flying out of his mouth. ‘I mean, that’s easier for everyone. I just don’t like the thought of strange men wandering around my house with the children here—’

‘No. One strange man is more than enough,’ she joked, crossing the room and easing the silky top from his hand, raising her eyebrows. ‘Could you please kindly stop feeling up my pyjamas?’

His eyes shot to hers, then down at the fabric. ‘Oh. I, ah…sorry, I thought that it was a top. That you wear out, I mean. I-I’d better go, I have a lot of work to do.’

‘You’re not going to stay and help after all?’ She couldn’t resist teasing him, seeing his discomfort.

‘I think its best you sort it out,’ he started backing toward the door. ‘If you can get the room straight and then get changed into something more suitable before Jasper and Aimee get home, that would be appreciated.’

She frowned. ‘Something more suitable?’

He took a few more steps back. ‘You’re the other responsible adult in this house at the moment and need to set a good example. I’d rather not be confronted by my seven year-old daughter trying to wear shorts that go up to—’ he paused before nodding at her bare legs, ‘well, you know what I mean.’

Turning, he headed off downstairs before she could respond, leaving her standing in the messy room, face turning a slow bright red. Lovely. He’d just practically accused her of looking like a prostitute. What an ass. So much for Melody saying he could be kind of charming. Although he hadn’t been doing too badly at first. Maybe Melody was right. Maybe this was a mistake.

She had to get out of here, get some fresh air, figure out what she was doing. She wasn’t officially on duty until the morning, but had planned on spending some time with the children before their bedtime. So she’d unpack, shower and change into something Mr Clothing Police might approve of, see Aimee and Jasper for half an hour, and then she was escaping for the evening.

Matt was sitting at the breakfast counter in tight blue Levi’s and a navy t-shirt watching the news when Zoe sloped into the kitchen early the next morning.

She murmured a quick greeting and looked around the room, admiring again the luxurious black and silver flecked marble counter tops, chrome equipment and spotlights set against the white walls and cabinets. Moving behind Matt to fiddle with the coffee machine, she placed a porcelain cup under the spout, frowning at the variety of buttons and levers. It looked more like a dashboard from a spaceship than something for making hot drinks. If she got desperate enough she’d ask him for help, but she’d give it a darned good try on her own first.

She poked at a black button, waiting for the chrome machine to do something. The orange ON light was lit up, and there was steam coming from somewhere, but nothing happened. Come on, she needed coffee.

They’d not spoken since Matt’s comment about her shorts the previous day. He’d been in his office and she’d been with Aimee and Jasper in their playroom after they’d come back from his mother-in-law’s and once they’d gone to bed she’d headed out, mooching around a few still open shops before trekking down towards Sloane Square and along Chelsea Bridge Road to take a walk beside the sluggish River Thames. The evening was balmy and bright, cars rushing past with beeps of horns, stressed commuters and cheerful locals streaming past her on the way to their next destination. She’d always loved London at this time of year. The sounds and smells of summer and the sense of endless possibilities. After her stroll she’d gone to see a late night comedy at the cinema.

She’d felt better and calmer on returning to Matt’s. As much as he’d embarrassed her, reflecting on his behaviour she’d realised it was unintentional rather than trying to piss her off. Also, for the plan to work she had to get Matt on side. Which meant not sending waves of palpable dislike his way every time he moved or spoke. So the only sensible thing was to temporarily put aside what he’d done to Melody and concentrate on being nice and becoming part of the household. She also didn’t want to live in a house filled with tension. It wouldn’t be good for any of them, least of all the kids. They mustn’t be hurt by all this. It wouldn’t be fair.

Muttering under her breath, she stabbed at a different button on the machine.

‘Here, let me.’ The deep voice sounded behind her and she jumped, the top of her head thunking his chin. His teeth clicked and a long, muscular arm grabbed the counter beside her waist, clutching it for support.

‘Shit!’ She span around, dismayed to see Matt’s eyes clenched shut, face white, a trickle of blood running down his chin. ‘I mean— argh! God, I’m so sorry. You took me completely by surprise.’ She took hold of his arm, scared he was about to topple over. Breathing in his aftershave and noticing how hot his body was really shouldn’t have been possible at that moment but somehow she managed both. Damn it.

‘Uh-huh,’ he groaned.

‘Here. Sit down,’ she ordered, guiding him back to his stool and pushing his head between his knees with a firm hand on the back of his warm neck. ‘Stay there a minute.’

He didn’t reply, staying put, so she edged away to get him a glass of iced water from the dispenser on the front of the big American style fridge and grab a piece of padded kitchen roll from the side, which she dampened. ‘Here you go,’ she held them out under his nose and after hesitating, he lifted his head slightly, grabbed the tissue and dabbed his mouth with it, followed by taking a few careful sips of water.