LITMIR.BIZ

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I to understand that you’ve had no word from me?’

      ‘Yes.’ Joanna squared her shoulders. ‘Why would I lie?’

      ‘Why indeed?’

      Joanna was indignant. ‘If you’d bothered to read any of my messages, you’d know why I’m here.’

      ‘Your messages?’ Matt looked bemused and Joanna felt a sense of disbelief.

      ‘This is ridiculous,’ she exclaimed. ‘We’re talking at cross purposes here. I’m talking about the half-dozen or so emails I’ve sent you in the past few weeks.’ She steeled herself to meet his gaze. ‘I can’t believe you haven’t read any of them.’

      ‘I haven’t.’ Matt returned her stare. ‘First of all, I’ve been in hospital in both Caracas and Miami. And afterwards, I let my mother deal with any correspondence.’

      Oh, why am I not surprised? thought Joanna bitterly, as comprehension dawned. What a golden opportunity for Adrienne to drive another wedge between them this had been.

      If there hadn’t been one there already, she appended bitterly.

      ‘That’s why my father’s in New York.’ Matt lifted his shoulders in a dismissive gesture. ‘As soon as he realised I’d need some time to convalesce, he insisted on taking over. I suspect retirement was getting boring. Whatever, he couldn’t wait to get on the plane.’

      Taking over was something the Novaks were very familiar with, Joanna thought grimly. But when Oliver Novak had had a mild stroke two years ago, his doctors had advised him to give up his job as CEO of NovCo.

      That was when Matt had taken over, and because Joanna hadn’t wanted to leave her father, who’d just been diagnosed with lung cancer, Matt had agreed that he should divide his time between the New York hub and the London affiliate.

      A double-edged sword, Joanna admitted now. Her and Matt’s relationship had already been strained by their inability to conceive, and her unwillingness to discuss her feelings with him. It hadn’t helped at all to hear about Matt wining and dining male and female investors, even though that had always been part of his job.

      It had never bothered her before, she conceded. In those days, she’d believed Matt loved her, and she’d trusted him implicitly. But being unable to conceive had made her vulnerable, in ways she’d never considered before.

      ‘I had no idea what was going on,’ she declared now, looping the strap of her bag over her shoulder and straightening her spine to face him. ‘I’m not without feelings, you know.’

      But she suspected she now knew what had happened to the messages she’d sent Matt. If they’d passed through his mother’s hands, Adrienne must have read them. But that didn’t really explain why she hadn’t passed them on.

      Nevertheless, her reasons for being here hadn’t changed. She wanted a divorce. It was as simple and as complicated as that. Simple, because all Matt had to do was agree not to contest it; and complicated, because when her father sold his small company to the Novak Corporation, Matt had made her a shareholder in NovCo.

      Not that she wanted any part of the organisation now. But the legal aspects of the situation would have to be gone through. She had hoped that after this interview Matt might come to London, which would have made things easier. But she was here now and she had to accept the situation as it was.

      She should have taken David Bellamy’s advice, she thought ruefully. Her boss at the art gallery, where she’d been working when she met Matt and where she was working again now, had warned her she should leave any communication between them to a solicitor. David had never liked Matt. He had been of the opinion that a man like Matthew Novak was used to women falling at his feet, and he’d been convinced their marriage wouldn’t last.

      And it hadn’t.

      ‘You know what he’s like,’ David had said on more than one occasion. ‘He believes he can twist you round his little finger. And if he thinks I’m involved in your decision, he’s bound to be suspicious. Do you really want to give him the chance to change your mind?’

      ‘Matt couldn’t do that,’ she’d retorted at once, the distance between them convincing her she was right.

      And she was right, she silently insisted. She had only to think of her father, and the torment he must have suffered during his last illness, to know there was no going back.

      Of course, that was months ago now, and her father was dead. But the bitterness she’d felt towards Matt had never gone away. She’d even convinced herself that the love they’d shared had been only a mirage. She was an independent woman these days and she wanted to keep it that way.

      Ergo, the divorce.

      Even so, she hadn’t been prepared for learning that Matt had been ill. When Sophie had first told her what had been going on, her reaction had made a mockery of everything she’d claimed.

      She’d truly believed she was immune to Matt’s dark attraction; that she’d be able to look at him and speak to him without feeling the pull of his sensuality.

      But once again, she’d been wrong…

       CHAPTER TWO

      YET WHAT DID that mean? That she was having second thoughts? But no, Joanna assured herself severely. She was merely reacting to the sexuality of the man, not to any lingering emotions she might feel.

      Matt was regarding her with brooding eyes. Clearly, he was as bemused by the situation as she was. But he evidently had his own agenda, and, gesturing towards the chairs, he said, ‘Why don’t you sit down? I’ll order some refreshments. If you didn’t come to find out if I was still alive, why are you here?’

      Joanna hesitated. Did she really want to behave as if this were just a social visit? Yet what else could she do in the present circumstances?

      So, ‘All right,’ she said offhandedly and a snap of Matt’s fingers brought one of the household staff to the patio.

      He ordered both coffee and a jug of iced tea, and then suggested that Joanna should take the lounger beside his own.

      There were several chairs set in the shade of a striped awning and, resigning herself to the situation, Joanna took the one he indicated. But she couldn’t help stiffening when Matt seated himself beside her, lowering the footrest and turning his chair sideways so that his bare knees were only inches from her own.

      They were alone, and Joanna put down her handbag and smoothed her hair back from her face. It had been tumbled on the ride from the airport, and she wished she’d had time to use a comb. Sophie’s car was a convertible, and, endeavouring a compromise, Joanna looped several errant strands behind her ears.

      Matt, watching her, couldn’t help noticing how silky her hair was and recalling how soft her skin used to feel beneath his hands. It had been too long since they’d been together and he was impatient to tell her that, whatever had gone before, he was sorry they’d been living apart.

      But would she be any more inclined to hear it now than she had before?

      Meanwhile, Joanna was wishing she hadn’t run into Sophie at the airport. A phone call to the Novaks’ house would have surely elicited the information that Matt had been ill and she might well have waited until tomorrow before contacting him. She was not without feelings, but if she’d been able to invite Matt to the hotel, she would have felt a little more in control.

      ‘So…’ Matt regarded her enquiringly, arching a dark brow. ‘Do I take it you have not forgiven me?’

      Joanna pressed her lips together. His words were so unexpected. ‘Did you think I would?’

      ‘It has been nine months since your father died,’ declared Matt quietly. ‘I regret that whole incident, but it wasn’t

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