However, his sense of peace had well and truly shattered last night. He’d figured the whole thing out weeks ago: make a deal, gain a pretend girlfriend with no emotions involved, let the lady name her price, be made partner at his dad’s firm. Simple.
Then why had he felt like Kara had kicked him in the guts when she’d asked for money? Isn’t that what he wanted? No strings? Just a cool, concise business arrangement? And why the hell did he choose her in the first place?
The questions reverberated through his mind while he pulled on sweat-pants and a T-shirt. Jogging was the only exercise that soothed him. Apart from sex. And that was all it had been for a while, a meaningless exercise. He was tired of women who were tigresses in the boardroom yet incapable of making a decision contradictory to his own out of it. He wasn’t into casual sex, so he wooed in the vain hope the next one might be different. However, each and every one had disappointed: too clingy, too possessive, too demanding. He’d always found a legitimate reason to end it, hence his reputation.
As he pounded the pavement, he wondered why he’d chosen Kara. For all intents and purposes she was the last woman to be his pretend girlfriend. Had she really bought his baloney about remaining unemotional where she was concerned? He certainly hadn’t. He wanted her, pure and simple, yet it was more than sexual.
The way she’d responded to him during their seven minutes together had left him hoping they could rekindle the easy camaraderie they’d once shared, before his over active hormones had got in the way. Sadly, she remembered every cruel word he’d used to push her away all those years ago. He’d been a real bastard that night. Maybe it was time to mend a few fences and see what developed in the process? After all, as friends they’d been great. As lovers, they could be even better. Why not combine the two and sweeten this god-forsaken deal he’d dreamed up?
But why had she demanded money? Thirty grand, to be exact. She was the last person he’d expect to be mercenary. She’d disappointed him. Surely she wasn’t like some of the corporate, power-hungry women he knew? At least he’d have an ironclad contract to protect himself. No woman was going to sink her greedy claws into him. Pity his father didn’t think the same way.
By the time he’d showered, shaved and dressed, Matt had pushed aside the niggling questions that had plagued him all night and was ready to take on the world. He stared at his slick image in the mirror.
Go ahead, Byrne. Give it your best shot.
* * *
Several hours later Kara entered the impressive offices of Byrne and Associates. She glanced around the reception area, enclosed by floor to ceiling glass overlooking Sydney. It screamed wealth: polished floorboards, cream leather chairs, exquisite paintings strategically placed on the walls. No expense spared.
The receptionist fit the image too: sleek, well-groomed and sharp as a pin. “May I help you?”
“Yes, Matt Byrne is expecting me. I’m Kara Roberts.”
“I’ll inform Mr. Byrne you’ve arrived.” She smiled at Kara as she punched buttons on the phone console. “Ms. Roberts to see you, Mr. Byrne.”
She stood up and beckoned Kara. “Please follow me.”
Kara admired the expensive cut of the receptionist’s designer suit, glad about her own choice of outfit. Today had definitely called for power dressing so she’d chosen a chic red suit teamed with a black polo neck top and black accessories. Sally said the look intimidated people, so she reserved it for clinching deals with particularly difficult clients. She figured Matt now fell into that category.
She thanked the receptionist as she knocked on the door bearing the shiny plaque MATTHEW BYRNE.
“Come in.”
Kara pasted a bright smile on her face as she opened the door, ignoring the rampaging butterflies in her stomach.
“Good morning, Matt. How are you?”
He looked up from a mountain of paperwork and glanced at his watch. “Right on ten. I like a woman who’s punctual.”
As he stood and walked towards her the butterflies in her stomach took flight. He looked incredible. The charcoal pin-striped suit, deep blue shirt and matching tie combined to lend him the look of a professional man exuding power. The shirt matched the stunning blue of his eyes, fixed on her at that moment.
“Would you like a coffee?”
“No thanks. I haven’t got time. I have an appointment at eleven, remember?” She didn’t want to be churlish but that was exactly how her reply sounded. Mean and ungrateful.
“Fine. Let’s get down to business. Here’s the contract. Take a look, let me know what you think.”
Kara took the paper he handed her and sat, carefully smoothing her skirt so it wouldn’t ride up her thighs. Matt didn’t return to his chair. Instead, he leaned against the desk, watching her. Every inch of her body could sense his gaze yet she refused to look at him. Besides, she needed to concentrate to decipher the contract.
Legalities frightened her, the clauses and provisos endless. However, this document seemed straightforward. Matt hadn’t used too much jargon and she understood the gist of it. He was buying her as his girlfriend for thirty thousand dollars.
Not that she had any
