Hadn't she made it clear that she would not have an affair with him? She wanted what Tony and Hannah had, not just a physical thing that went nowhere but bed.
Distractedly she helped herself to salads, hoping to smother the herb smell on the plate Tony had passed to her. The result was a heap of food she couldn't possibly eat, which made her feel even worse. She picked up her knife and fork, telling herself she had to get through this, had to act normally and not draw any attention to her state of helpless torment.
"Did you try one of the exotic fruit ices while you were down in Anzac Park?" Matt asked her, forcing further conversation with him.
Nicole gave him a fleeting glance as she answered, "No, I didn't." "Then you missed out on a treat," he cheerfully persisted. "They're
very flavoursome and refreshing. The people who run the stall buy their fruit from me. They do well with it."
Wishing she could ignore him but knowing it would be perceived as impolite by Mrs. King, Nicole forced her gaze up from her plate and managed a quick smile. "I'm sure they do. I did notice they had quite long queues at that stall, people waiting to be served."
Her eyes didn't quite meet his but only he would notice, and hopefully he would get the message that she wasn't interested and would prefer to be left alone. She picked doggedly at the salads she'd chosen, determined on closing him out as much as she could. He chatted to his grandmother, apparently not having noticed anything untoward in Nicole's behaviour. It was as though he wasn't aware of any tension, or was consciously ignoring it, hoping it would go away.
It didn't go away for Nicole. She had the strong sense of Matt King biding his time, waiting to pounce when the opportunity presented itself, planning how to manoeuvre her away from the others. He'd given no notice of his coming and his arrival had coincided with the serving of lunch, which meant she couldn't easily absent herself. She was sure this was planned, not an impulse. Behind it all was a relentless will beating at her, not letting go.
It made her head ache. Her stomach started to revolt against the food she was doing her best to eat. She sipped her juice, desperate to control the waves of nausea. It was no use. The added stress of Matt King's presence was just too much to bear on top of everything else. The casual cheerfulness of his voice, the confident way he was dealing with his meal, the sheer power of the man...it all made her feel weak and miserable.
She set down her cutlery, placed her serviette by her plate and pushed up from her chair. "Please excuse me." She swept an apologetic look around the table, then directly addressed her employer. "I must have walked too long in the heat this morning." She rubbed her forehead which was definitely clammy. "I'm just not well."
Mrs. King frowned in concern. "Go and lie down, my dear. I'll check on you later."
"Thank you."
"If it's an upset stomach, could be the prawn sandwich," Hannah suggested as Nicole made her way around the table. "Takeaway food can be tricky."
"Yes," Nicole agreed weakly.
"Or is it sunstroke?" Matt queried. "Do you feel feverish, Nicole?" "Only a headache," she answered, wishing they'd just let her go
without fuss, fixing her gaze on the double entrance doors to the castle to deflect any further inquiries about her health.
A chair scraped on the cobblestones. Matt spoke, not letting her go.
"I'll accompany you up to your room. Make sure you're all right." "No!"
She spun to face the man she most wanted to escape, her hand flying out in a warding-off protest. He was on his feet, so big and tall he seemed to tower over her, filling her vision with multiple images. Which was wrong.
She was dizzy from having whirled on him so fast, the shock of his action draining the blood from her face.
The next thing she knew was finding herself clamped to Matt King's chest, then being set in his chair, head down between her knees, his arm around her supportively, his voice ringing in her ears as he crouched to her level.
"Deep breaths. Get some oxygen back in your brain." Had she fainted?
Embarrassment churned through her. Having so much attention focused on her was dreadful. "I'm all right," she gasped, intensely distressed at having made this spectacle of herself.
"You were blacking out, Nicole. Take your time now," Matt advised.
He felt her forehead. "Not overly hot. A bit clammy."
"Perhaps I should call a doctor," Mrs. King said worriedly.
"No!" Nicole cried, alarmed by what a doctor might tell her employer. She had to keep the pregnancy a secret. "I just need to lie down for a while. Truly..."
"I'll carry her up to her room, Nonna. Make sure she's okay," Matt said.
"You do that, Matteo, and I'll go and speak to Rosita. She has remedies for everything."
"Oh, please..." Nicole barely got those words out before she was lifted off the chair and cradled across the same broad masculine chest she had struggled against at the Brisbane hotel.
"I'll get the doors open for you," Tony chimed in, already out of his chair and striding ahead of them.
Fighting them all seemed like fighting an unstoppable juggernaut.
Nicole felt too weak to do it. She let herself be carried into the castle, hating the enforced awareness of the man who was carrying her, his strength, the sense of once more being enveloped by him. She refused to put her arms around his neck to make the carrying easier. It would bring her into even closer contact with him, possibly encouraging whatever devious plan he had in mind.
Tony didn't follow them in. Mrs. King left them at the staircase, pursuing her own path to the kitchen and Rosita. This left Nicole alone with Matt King as he started up the stairs.
"Put me down. I can walk," she pleaded.
"It's not far. I can manage," he stated firmly, as though she was worrying about being too heavy a burden.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, which was a mistake because she breathed in the warm male scent of him and her head swam again. "Why are you doing this?" she hissed, angry at her own vulnerability to an attraction she didn't want to feel.
"You need help."
"I don't want you holding me."
"You surely don't imagine I'm taking you up to your bedroom to seduce you when you're obviously sick."
She was too agitated to think straight.
"Seduction wasn't what we were about anyway," he added dryly. "You know that, Nicole."
"I'm not going to change my mind," she blurted out, desperate for him to understand her position.
"I didn't expect you to." "Then why are you here?"
"Was I supposed to be banned from the castle?"
She floundered, knowing it was absurd to try to cut him off from his grandmother for the duration of the project. "You know what I mean," she muttered helplessly.
"You wanted enough notice so you could avoid me?"
She bit her lips, knowing to concede that also conceded how deeply he affected her. But he knew it already, she wildly reasoned. Nothing would have happened between them if she hadn't wanted it to.
"You made your point, Nicole," he went on quietly. "I'm not going to push anything else."
He didn't have to, she thought miserably. She was a mess around him anyway. He'd reached the top of the staircase, seemingly without any effort at all, and headed down the corridor towards the guest suites.
"Which door?" he asked.
"Please...put me down now," she begged. "I'll be fine. The dizziness has gone."
"Which door?" he repeated.
"I don't want you coming into my private room," she cried. "It's
private... to me!"
He stopped. His chest rose as he sucked in a deep breath and fell as he expelled it. Slowly, carefully, he set her on her feet, still holding her as he waited to see if she really was steady enough to be safely released.
"I was only trying to look after you, Nicole, not take some...some crass advantage," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I left you thinking so badly of me. Next time we meet..." Another deep sigh. "There's no need for you to feel stressed in my company. Okay?"
"Yes. Thank you. May I go now?" she rushed out, unable to look at him with tears pricking her eyes again.
"As you wish," he murmured, dropping his hands.
She made it to her room in a blind dash, conscious he was waiting, watching. It was an enormous relief to close the door on him. She stood against it, letting the tears roll, swallowing the sobs that threatened to erupt.
Trying to look after her...
I want someone to care about me. Look after me.
Those were the words she'd hurled at him in the elevator. Did he remember them or was he just reacting to her being ill in front of his family? Nothing really personal. Except he wanted to call at the castle without her being stressed. Which was totally impossible now she was pregnant with his child.
Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God! What was she to do?