The Bedroom Incident

‘What do you want?’ he asked brusquely.

‘To see you for a moment, only a moment,’ she replied.

She had expected him to be dressed, but all he wore was a pair of navy boxer shorts. As her gaze took in his naked torso and tall barefoot stance, her heart began to thud. Matthew Lingard looked very male, very sexy and very annoyed.

‘You’d better come in,’ he said.

Kristin hesitated for a second or two, then walked inside. Emily’s mention of him having Spanish blood had surprised her. He was dark-haired, yet not that dark. But now she saw the olive tint of his skin and the curls of black hair which grew on his chest. All of a sudden, he seemed fiercely Latin.

‘I just wanted to leave my c.v. and these copies of Trend,’ she said, showing him the plastic bag which she carried. ‘I’d like you to look at them.’

He muttered an oath. ‘Now?’

‘No, tomorrow morning when you wake up. My column is at the front of the magazine, a page or two after the “Contents”.’

‘Forget junk mail—you are fast becoming my biggest irritation,’ Matthew said, and raked a tired hand back through his hair. ‘Do you never give up?’

‘One of the attributes of a good journalist is determination,’ she declared, with a smile. Crossing to a chest of drawers, she lifted the magazines from the bag and began to sort through them. ‘I realise you may not find time to read all the issues—’

‘I won’t,’ he said curtly.

‘But I’d be grateful if you’d look at this one and—’

As Kristin opened a magazine at the appropriate page and reached for another, he walked back to the four-poster.

‘I’m worn out,’ he said, and stretched out on top of the bed.

She looked rapidly through the magazines, opening and closing them until six of her columns were selected and set out, ready and waiting for his appraisal.

‘They’ll give you a good idea of my versatility,’ she said, taking a couple of steps towards the bed. ‘But please, would you bear in mind that I’m writing for a specific market? Which doesn’t—’

She stopped mid-sentence. Matthew looked so strong and virile and so...bare that she was suddenly conscious of being alone with him in his bedroom in the still of the night. She felt abruptly aware of how sexy and desirable he was.

He yawned. ‘Which doesn’t what?’ he asked.

‘Which doesn’t mean I can’t write for a national newspaper,’ she jabbered. ‘I don’t expect you to keel over with delight when you read my column—’

‘Thank God.’

‘But if you could take a little time to study it in the morning I’d be grateful.’ Spinning round, Kristin marched to the door. ‘Goodnight.’

‘Stop!’ he ordered as she reached out to press down on the handle.

She turned. ‘Sorry?’

Leaping up from the bed, Matthew strode rapidly across the room to grab hold of her arm and draw her back from the door.