NICOLE glanced at her watch as she drove into the castle grounds, heading for the family parking area at the back. Almost five o'clock. Late enough for everyone to have gone home. Not that she would have minded saying hello to Matt King's older brothers and she really liked their wives. Gina was genuinely warm-hearted and Hannah literally bubbled with the joy of life. Probably more so now if she was expecting a baby, as Mrs. King suspected.
No doubt she would hear all the family news over dinner tonight, though it was a shame she had missed out on Hannah's excitement. Nicole instantly argued that Matt King's presence at the luncheon would have dampened it for her anyway. And if he'd been seated next to her at the dining table...she shuddered at the thought. An utterly intolerable situation.
It was reassuring to see that the helipad was empty. Clearly Tony and Hannah had flown back to their home on the tea plantation at Cape Tribulation. Alex's Mercedes was not in the parking lot, but the one car sitting by itself gave Nicole's heart a nasty lurch—a forest-green Saab convertible, a typical choice for a wealthy, sexy bachelor like Matt King.
She brought her own modest little Toyota to a halt beside it and sat, fighting a sickening rise of tension. She couldn't be certain the sporty convertible was his since she'd never seen him driving a vehicle.
Nevertheless, any hope that it belonged to someone else didn't feel very feasible.
Best to assume he had stayed behind with his grandmother and stay clear of where they might be. If she could scoot upstairs to the privacy of her bedroom...no, that would mean passing the library. Maybe she could slink into the billiard room without being seen.
Nicole thumped the driving wheel in disgust at these fugitive thoughts. Why should she let herself be intimidated by Matt King? It was wrong. He was wrong. While she certainly didn't want to meet him again, it was absurd to shrink from doing so when she was absolutely entitled to hold her ground.
Determined on acting normally, she alighted from her car and walked into the castle, intent on heading openly to the billiard room where she would take her briefcase and empty it of the material collected today. This meant passing through the kitchen and predictably Rosita was there. It was a considerable relief to find the motherly housekeeper alone.
"Ah! You are back!" she said in a satisfied tone, as though Nicole was some recalcitrant chick who had finally returned to the nest.
"Yes, I'm back. Is Hannah expecting a baby, Rosita?"
A triumphant clap of the hands. "Two months pregnant! It is very happy news."
"How lovely!"
"And Matteo is still here, talking to his grandmother. If you would like to go on out to the loggia and join them, I will bring some fresh drinks."
"I'd rather let them enjoy each other's company, Rosita," she quickly excused. "I have some work to get into my computer while it's still fresh in my mind."
This announcement earned a disapproving tut but Nicole was off before Rosita could gear up for her argument that there was more to life than work, especially for a young woman who had not yet been fortunate enough to find a husband to take care of her.
As Nicole walked down the hall to the billiard room, she darkly decided that if Rosita was fondly casting her employer's third grandson in that role, she was doomed to disappointment. No way was matrimonial bliss on that horizon!
In fact, the thought of joining Matt King in any sense raised hackles that might have drawn blood had she gone out to the loggia, despite her respect for her employer. She closed the door of the billiard room very firmly behind her, willing her antagonist to keep his distance because she was not prepared to suffer any more slights on her integrity.
And if he had checked out her qualifications today, she hoped he was stewing in guilt over his rotten accusations. Not that it was likely. He was too arrogantly sure of himself to think he might have been mistaken. Just because he'd been right about the sexual attraction... Nicole heaved a big sigh to relieve the mounting anger in her chest as she marched over to her desk.
Enough was enough!
How many nights had she lain awake, seething over their last encounter? It was such a foolish waste of time and energy. The man was not worth thinking about. To let him get under her skin as far as he had was just plain stupid.
She switched on the computer with more force than was needed. Work was the answer to blocking out unpleasant connections from her consciousness. Her gaze fell on a bag that didn't belong on her desk. A long cardboard cylinder protruded from it. Frowning over the Kauri Pine Park logo on the bag, she set her briefcase on the floor, uncomfortably aware that she had asked Matt King for copies of photographs and the original plan of the park. Was this his delivery?
Her hands clenched, not wanting to touch anything he had touched.
Had he brought this bag in here himself, invading her private space, spying on what work she'd done? She shot a quick glance around the room, looking for anything out of place. Only the bag. Yet somehow the very air felt charged with his presence.
It was unnerving, inhibiting. She stared at the bag, telling herself its contents were completely harmless. It didn't matter if they were meant to mock her position here at the castle. She would use them effectively and show Matt King how very professional she was. Even if he never backed down from his insulting judgment of her, she'd know that he had to know he was wrong once the history was published. There could be no refuting that evidence. In the end, she would triumph.
The only problem was...it didn't take away the hurt.
A knock on the door sent wild tremors through her heart. Not him...please...not him, her mind begged as she heard the door open.
"Nicole?"
His voice.
She wanted to keep her back turned to him but what good would that do? He would have no compunction about walking in and doing whatever he wanted. She could feel his forceful energy hitting her, commanding an acknowledgment of him. If he didn't get it, he would engineer a confrontation one way or another.
"May I come in?"
The polite query cut into the fierce flow of resentment in her mind. It was just a sham of good manners, she swiftly told herself. The predatory nature of the man simply would not accept a negative reply. Nevertheless, pride in her own good manners demanded he be faced and answered.