Desire by Design - By Paula Altenburg Page 0,22

own in confusion. It would be too much to hope that he hadn’t overheard that last bit of the conversation. Her mother’s voice carried, after all.

“My mother thinks marriage is the greatest accomplishment a woman can achieve,” Eve said, heat clawing her cheeks. “She’s always trying to fix me up with men.”

“If it helps matters any, my mother has a thing about marriage, too.” Matt laughed without a whole lot of humor. “She’s tried it five times. I think she holds the record for the shortest marriages in history.” He picked at a loose thread on the arm of the sofa. “People who can’t commit shouldn’t keep trying.”

While Eve found five excessive—one had been more than enough for her—she still felt the need to defend his mother. “Maybe she wants to commit but is having difficulty finding the right man.”

Matt’s expression conveyed his opinion of that theory. “Don’t get me wrong. I love her. But she’s done enough comparison shopping to at least be able to find one she can tolerate. I think a person should know what they want and go after it. None of this ‘Oops, I made a mistake.’ Do a little research beforehand. Whatever happened to ‘marriage is forever?’ Why else would anyone bother?”

Inside, Eve winced. He had some strong opinions on the matter, but she’d heard too many similar comments from her own family to let that statement pass. Nobody ever said marriage was supposed to be easy. Couldn’t you give it more time? Couldn’t you at least try and work things out?

“Maybe she’s looking for that special someone she can respect and admire, and who respects and admires her in return,” Eve said.

Matt’s dark head tilted slightly sideways, and he stared at her for a long moment. “Is that what you look for in a relationship? Mutual respect and admiration?”

When she’d married Claude, she supposed she’d done so because he’d made her feel respected and admired. At first. And she’d certainly been impressed by him. At first.

She drained the last drops of her coffee and stifled a huge yawn. “I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m quite happy with my life the way it is.”

“Huh,” Matt said thoughtfully, giving her the distinct impression she’d just disappointed him somehow.

If so, she refused to feel sorry about it. Rebellion kicked in. She was tired of being viewed as a disappointment to others. Didn’t anyone ever care that, just maybe, she might be disappointed in them?

…

Matt couldn’t come up with the right word to describe the swarm of emotions Eve elicited from him.

Confusion, possibly. Irritation, undoubtedly. But it was the view of those short-shorts, tanned legs, and glittery, pink-tipped toenails that had him once more wanting to kiss her.

The silence grew so loud he could hear the ticking of his wristwatch. Until today, he hadn’t even known it made any noise.

“Why don’t you let me see some of those ideas of yours?” he suggested, changing the topic.

Her eyes widened. “You mean, right now?”

Matt shrugged. “Why not?”

She disappeared with a swish of her ponytail and a flurry of those tempting bare limbs and reappeared moments later, tottering under a stack of papers that required the weight of her chin to keep them from toppling over.

“Here’s the first of them.” She dumped the papers in his lap. Then, palming a letter opener off a small escritoire, she settled back in her chair and began sorting through a mound of mail, methodically slicing open each envelope. Matt placed a protective hand over his throat.

She paused, the letter opener poised in mid-air, sunlight glinting off its pewter blade. “Something wrong?”

Matt forced his hand away from his throat and picked up the top file. “No, of course not.”

“I’ll try not to disturb you,” she said.

Too late. She’d already disturbed him. Just not in the way she might think.

In spite of that, it wasn’t long before he became totally absorbed in the papers in front of him. She was good, he conceded, adding the file he’d just finished to the growing stack on the floor at his feet. Given the proper education and training, she could be great. He stretched the kinks out of limbs stiffened from too much time spent in one position.

Why didn’t she do more with her talent?

He started to ask her, then realized she was sound asleep, curled up in the overstuffed chair. The sun no longer shone through the front window, and his stomach told him it was getting close to lunchtime, but she looked so adorable curled