The gentle smile vanishes, replaced by a wicked grin that makes my breath catch.
He closes the distance between us in two long strides.“Is that so?”he murmurs.His hands find my waist, eyes blazing with a familiar, delicious fire.
He ducks down, hooks an arm under my knees, and lifts me effortlessly over his shoulder.
“Matt!”A surprised shriek escapes me, turning into a peal of laughter.“What are you doing?!”I laugh, gripping his waist for dear life as he carries me, upside down, up the stairs.
“Making the most of my time.”
And as he carries me into his bedroom, my laughter echoing in the beautiful, quiet house, I feel nothing but pure joy.
FIFTY TWO
NOTHING FEELS RIGHT.
Nothing feels powerful enough.
I stand in the middle of the guest room in my underwear, staring at the selection of clothes I’ve set out on the bed.The peaceful bubble of yesterday has popped, replaced by the high-stakes reality of what lies ahead.This isn’t just a meeting; it’s the fight for my future.For Mary’s legacy.
I need to look like a woman who can win.
After trying on and discarding three other options, I finally settle on a pair of sleek, navy blue slacks and a cream-colored silk blouse.The tie-neck that feels both feminine and authoritative.I tuck it in, cinch a thin belt around my waist, and slide my feet into heels, hoping they grant me a confidence I don’t actually feel.
A quick look in the mirror confirms it’s the right choice.
“Amy?We need to leave, love,” Matthew’s voice calls from the bottom of the stairs.
A fresh jolt of panic hits me.“Sorry!”I call out, grabbing my navy purse.“Coming!”
I hurry out of the room and rush toward the main staircase, my speed limited by my heels.“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” I mutter in a string of apologies.
“Hey, stop.”Matthew commands softly.His hands rise to grip my arms, stilling my frantic descent as I practically hop off the last step.
He’s dressed in a perfectly tailored navy blue suit that matches my trousers, a matching silk tie, and a crisp light blue shirt.He looks powerful, handsome, and impossibly calm.The very picture of confidence.
“I’m sorry, I got carried away picking the right outfit,” I say, my breath catching.
“That’s okay.Stop for a second.Breathe.”His eyes are full of an unwavering understanding that melts some of the tightness in my chest.
He doesn’t glance at his watch.He doesn’t offer a single word of impatience.He simply waits, his thumbs stroking my arms, until my breathing evens out.
“I know you’re nervous, love.But you are not walking into this alone.”His gaze intensifies, a fierce protectiveness flickering within his green eyes.“I will be right there with you.Okay?”
I look into his kind, sincere eyes, and the knot in my chest finally begins to loosen.I take the deep breath he asked for and give him a small, grateful nod.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Okay,” he repeats, giving my arm a final, reassuring squeeze.“Let’s go.”
Once we’re buckled in and pulling out onto the street, I start twisting the strap of my purse in my lap.I stare out the window, watching the familiar streets go by, but I don’t really see them.My mind is already in that office, standing before the man who holds my future in his hands.
Beside me, I feel Matthew’s gaze on me for a moment before it returns to the road.A second later, his free hand leaves the steering wheel and covers mine where they are clenched together.His thumb strokes soothing circles over my tense knuckles.
“You’ve got this, love,” he says softly.
I turn to look at him, and he gives me a quick, confident smile before focusing back on the traffic.
“A little heads-up on Harold,” he begins, his tone shifting.“He’s old-school.All business.He doesn’t like flattery.He has no time for games.He can seem cold, but what he respects more than anything is directness.”He glances at me again, his expression serious but encouraging.“So don’t try to be anything but yourself.Speak from the heart.Let him see your passion.”
