Mistress For Hire

She smiled at him, aware that her eyes were dancing and the dimples were showing in her cheeks.

‘Thank you, Matt,’ she said in a breathy, little-girl voice that she had used to charm packets of sweets out of elderly great-uncles when she was six years old.

It failed dismally with Matt. His mouth hardened and his hand tightened briefly on her elbow as if he was consciously resisting the impulse to strangle her.

‘Come along,’ he urged. ‘We’d better not keep our driver waiting.’

As she followed him out on to the footpath, she was startled to see that there was a limousine waiting outside with a chauffeur in a grey uniform waiting respectfully to help them into the back seat. Lisa blinked.

‘Are you always driven around by a chauffeur?’ she marvelled, as the car glided away from the curb.

‘No,’ growled Matt. ‘Only when I’m in Melbourne or Sydney and don’t want the bother of driving myself.’

‘Oh,’ muttered Lisa, settling into her seat and eyeing him doubtfully. It would have been nice to think that he had planned this as a special experience for her, but even her optimistic nature couldn’t accept that explanation. It was obvious that Matt Lansdon felt a powerful antagonism towards her, although she still wasn’t really sure why. As the car glided along through the streets of St Kilda towards the city, she thrust that small, niggling worry out of her mind and concentrated on enjoying herself. She had always loved this hour of the day when the neon lights of the city began to sparkle like coloured jewels against the backdrop of the silvery twilight. A soft sigh of pleasure escaped her.

‘I’m so glad they’re performing Carmen tonight,’ she murmured, half to herself. ‘It’s my favourite opera.’

‘I thought it might be,’ said Matt with a sardonic curl of his lips. ‘The heroine seems like the kind of character who would appeal to you.’

‘A gypsy slut with no heart and no morals who makes her lover suffer so cruelly that he stabs her in a jealous fit of rage? That’s the kind of character you think I could identify with?’

‘Yes.’

Lisa’s eyes flashed dangerously.

‘It must be wonderful to be able to sum up people’s characters the moment you meet them without having to bother about getting to know them,’ she purred. ‘I’m afraid it’s a skill I’ve never had and I might make terribly embarrassing blunders if I tried it. Take you, for instance. If I were foolish enough to go by my first impressions, I might think that you were arrogant, ill-mannered, prone to jumping to conclusions. Whereas no doubt if I wait, eventually you’ll be revealed to me as gracious, fair-minded, and with a heart as soft as a marshmallow.’

Matt scowled silently at her for a moment. Then he cleared his throat.

‘I’m sorry if I seem discourteous,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll do my best to be fair-minded about whatever you have to say to me this evening.’

‘Yes, why don’t you do that?’ agreed Lisa sweetly. ‘That way I’m sure we’ll both have a very pleasant evening.’

In some ways it was a very pleasant evening, although she could not remain unaware of the mysterious tension that seemed to be bubbling between them. Yet Lisa had a naturally cheerful disposition, so that even with Matt brooding silently beside her, she was still able to enjoy the magical atmosphere of the State Theatre. The women in their beautiful, shimmering dresses, the men looking splendid and formal in their dark suits, the sounds of instruments tuning up in the orchestra pit, the dim house lights, the rustle of programmes and then the colour and vitality of the stage sets and the costumes and the glorious, swirling music all combined to lift her spirits.

During the interval they did not join the rest of the throng, battling for glasses of champagne at the bar, but Matt ushered her into a private room, where the members of the opera board and their guests were mingling. To Lisa’s relief, he set aside his ill humour here and escorted her around from group to group, introducing her as if she was a cherished guest. Fortunately Lisa was in her element and recognised several people she knew from art gallery openings. She was soon deep in a conversation about the stage sets for the production, which had been painted by one of her old art school cronies, so she simply smiled and nodded when Matt asked her to excuse him so he could speak to a business associate. Later as they filed into the auditorium for the second half of the opera, she found him gazing at her with a thoughtful, appraising look, as if he was surprised that she had fitted in so well with his friends.

‘What’s wrong?’ she whispered wickedly in his ear as the house lights went down. ‘Did you think I was going to rip all my clothes off and lie on the table?’

Just before the orchestra came in on cue, she could hear the audible grinding of his teeth. However, the rest of the performance was so magnificent that Lisa’s thoughts were soon swept away from the mysterious subject of why Matt disliked her so much. Both of them became absorbed in the performance and, when the opera reached its stunning climax and the final curtain fell, they rose to their feet cheering and clapping with the rest of the audience. Only after half a dozen curtain calls had been taken and her hands were stinging from clapping did Lisa stop applauding and turn to look at Matt.

‘Wasn’t it wonderful?’ she breathed. ‘Thank you so much for bringing me.’

His eyes kindled.

‘My pleasure,’ he murmured. ‘It doubles the enjoyment to be with someone who appreciates it so much.’

Yet as they went up in the lift to the restaurant upstairs, Lisa sensed that the brief truce was over. She still felt magically uplifted and would have liked nothing better than to enjoy the discreet opulence of the restaurant with its candelit tables and its murals of famous opera sets from the past, but she had an uneasy certainty that Matt was spoiling for a fight. All the same, her earlier shot about his manners seemed to have gone home.

‘I think we should enjoy our meal and have a little chat to get to know each other better before we discuss anything really heavy, don’t you?’ he suggested with a wintry smile as they sat down.

‘Yes, I do,’ agreed Lisa candidly. ‘I’m starving and I won’t enjoy my food so much if you quarrel with me while I eat.’

Matt gave an explosive growl of laughter.

‘Well, that’s honest,’ he conceded. ‘And I’ve always liked women who enjoy food. It makes me feel they would enjoy everything else about life, as well. So tell me, my ravenous little sex goddess, what are you planning on eating?’

‘Sex goddess?’ challenged Lisa with a lift of her eyebrows.

‘If you don’t want to be considered a sex goddess, you shouldn’t lie around looking so luscious on dining tables,’ warned Matt in a hoarse, smoky voice, his blue eyes scanning her lazily from under half-lowered lids. ‘Nor, for that matter, should you wear cocktail dresses that show off your considerable physical charms to such advantage. I’ll say this much for my nephew—the boy evidently recognises a beautiful woman when he sees one.’

Lisa stared at him uneasily. There was something in the sultry, caressing way Matt was watching her that sent an unwilling tingle of excitement through her entire body, but at the same time she resented his frank appraisal of her attractions, particularly when she was still well aware of his underlying hostility towards her. And where on earth did Tim come into this? Tim certainly didn’t think she was beautiful. As a matter of fact, he often told her quite cheerfully that she ought to go on a diet. Unwilling to be drawn into a difficult discussion, Lisa simply flashed Matt a mysterious, fleeting smile and turned her attention to the menu.

‘I think I’ll have the seafood brochettes with wild rice and salad,’ she announced. ‘And perhaps the chocolate mousse cake and coffee to follow, if you don’t mind. I didn’t have any dinner tonight.’

‘Be my guest,’ Matt shrugged. ‘I think I’ll have the grilled lobster, myself. Would you like some champagne to drink with it?’

‘Yes, please,’ agreed Lisa. Once the champagne had been brought and approved, Matt leaned back in his chair and smiled at her. The smile worried Lisa. There was something dangerous about it, as if it was the opening move in a war game.

‘Tell me some more about yourself,’ he invited.

Lisa was just about to embark on this agreeable activity when there was a sudden interruption. A tall, flamboyant-looking man, dressed in a dinner suit of royal blue satin and with long, blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, stopped at her table and uttered a glad cry of recognition.

‘Lisa! I haven’t seen you for ages, darling. When are you going to give up that dreary little boyfriend of yours and come and live with me?’

Lisa gave a gurgle of laughter and returned her friend’s embrace warmly. In spite of Alan’s violently coloured clothes and theatrical gestures, she knew perfectly well that he was devoted to his wife, Vicky, and his two little boys. But this sort of banter was an old habit going back to their student days at art college, and she always enjoyed it.

‘Whenever you say the word, sweetheart,’ she replied. ‘By the way, I thought your sets were magnificent tonight. Alan, have you met Matt Lansdon? Matt, this is Alan, who designed the sets for the production.’

‘How do you do?’ muttered Matt, rising to his feet and extending his hand.

There was a stormy glint in his eyes as he took in every detail of Alan’s unconventional appearance, but the set designer seemed in no way taken aback by this scrutiny. He winked at Lisa and gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze before he began to thread his way between the tables again.

‘Well, I must be going,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Nice meeting you, Matt. I envy you your supper partner. Isn’t she the sexiest little moll in town?’

Matt’s face was like thunder as he glared after Alan’s departing back.

‘Are you aware that he’s a married man with two children?’ he hissed when Alan was safely out of earshot.

Lisa smiled tranquilly. She found Matt’s disapproval so exquisitely humorous that she couldn’t bear to spoil the fun by telling him how harmless the friendship really was. Instead she gave him a long, sultry look from under lowered eyelashes and pouted at him.

‘Yes,’ she breathed.

For a moment she thought Matt was going to jump up out of his chair and box her ears, but instead he simply scowled at her.

‘Where did you meet him?’ he asked.

‘Alan? We were at art school together.’