His jaw was clenched so tightly, I wondered what he wasn’t saying. It almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself more of that than me.
“Nina, it’s sort of the gig. You knew this was going to happen.”
“I didn’t know you were going to dig for evidence around my family home—”
“Shh,” Matthew interrupted as a kitchen staff member came scurrying through with a tray of beverages. “This isn’t the time or place.” He shook his head. “Goddammit. I really wish you had told me you were coming.”
“I don’t have to run everything by you, Matthew.”
“Oh, really?” He clearly did not believe me.
“Yes, really,” I protested, finding I had to stop myself from stamping my feet. Good lord, as much as I loved him, the man really did bring out the worst in me.
I opened my mouth to argue, but found I couldn’t. It was odd—of the two of us, you would think that I’d be the one to maintain propriety. But no, as usual, I found all I could think about was flinging decorum out the wind in order to do all number of things with this man. Argue. Fight. Kiss. Fuck.
Yes, fuck. The word, one I hardly ever uttered, suddenly seemed poised on the tip of my tongue. Matthew’s eyes dropped suddenly to my mouth, like he could sense it there. His brow furrowed in that way that made me want to kiss him and smooth it out. He looked torn between wanting to drag me into a closet and toss me out of the room.
“Nina.”
“What?”
Matthew removed his hat again, the same straw fedora he was wearing when I had seen him at the Grace. Memories of the way it had tumbled to the ground made me shiver. And from the way his left brow rose knowingly, he could see exactly what I was thinking. Damn this man. I loved him, but I also hated the way just his presence seemed to remove every barrier I had. When we were alone, that transparency was liberation. But out here, it was treacherous.
Finally, the tension in his shoulders released. They were such fine things—I admired the shape of them more than he knew. Broad, but not too broad. Svelte enough that he fit into the lean cuts of his favorite Italian suits with ease, though the power he nurtured at the gym each day couldn’t quite be hidden beneath wool and gabardine.
“Fine,” he said at last. “You’re right. This is your home—I have no right to kick you out. But I can’t leave either.” He shook his head. “I’m an investigator, Nina. We need some information, and this is a good place to listen.”
“But Calvin isn’t coming,” I protested.
“No, but a lot of his business associates are. Most of them won’t know who I am.”
“I don’t know,” I demurred. “You were in the news, weren’t you?”
That irritating half smile appeared again. “Keeping tabs on me, duchess?”
I didn’t reply. Eventually, the smile disappeared, and he just shrugged.
“I’m willing to take the chance that most of these penguins don’t memorize faces any more than they remember the names of their servants, especially after a few martinis. I can test the waters without Calvin around to poison the well.” He tipped his head. “Unless you’re going to do that for him by telling people who I am.”
The way his tone suddenly sharpened again cut me to the quick.
I took a deep breath. “Matthew, of course I won’t.” Darting another look from side to side, I continued: “In fact, I could help you…”
He paused. But a second later, the shake of his head told me he was sticking to his guns. When our eyes met, his mirrored the guilt that seemed permanently lodged in my stomach.
“No, doll,” he reminded me. “On my own.”
We stared at each other for a long time, the sad reality of the situation settling between us. What I wouldn’t give to be able to take his hand and guide him out to the patio. Introduce him to the crowds of people who, yes, might look down their noses at first, but who would eventually come to love him just as much as I did.
A pipe dream. Especially since if he ever uncovered what I thought he might, we’d be finished anyway. Husband or not.
“So, your daughter. She’s here too?”
I swallowed and nodded.
“Can I meet her?”
I looked up in surprise. “Are you going to interrogate her too?”
Matthew’s brow furrowed. “What? Absolutely not. I only—”