Fatherhood Fever!

The Latin lover! Her description of that affair sliced into Matt’s mind...surprises, romantic settings, lovely gifts. He’d probably showered her with flowers, maybe even using them in making love to her. Two years of it, leading to nothing but bitter disillusionment! And she was still bleeding from him!

The knife in Matt’s gut twisted. Was all they’d shared since their wedding a pretence on her side? Didn’t it mean anything to her? Why did she have to bring him into it?

Anger spurted over the angst she’d stirred. Where was the clean slate he’d offered her? Just because that cheating bastard had given her roses, did that mean he couldn’t, not even out of genuine feeling for her? Couldn’t she see the difference? She wore his wedding ring, for God’s sake!

He could feel his face tightening, his whole body screwing up at the violation to his feelings for her. “I don’t care to have roses banned from our life, Peta,” he bit out, barely able to hold back a jealous tirade.

It galvanised her attention. She stared at him for several long tension-ridden moments. Finally she said, “Red roses are supposed to symbolise love, Matt.” As though suddenly conscious of her guarded posture, she unfolded her arms and rested her hands on the table, palms open in a gesture of appeal as she wryly added, “That’s not what we have, is it?”

He stared back at her, jolted into a painful realisation that her view of their relationship did not encompass any sense of him being someone uniquely special for her. “What do we have, Peta?” he asked quietly, feeling he was treading the edge of a precipice and there was a deep black chasm right in front of him.

Her mouth moved into an ironic little smile. “You said it yourself...a marriage of convenience...for the sake of having a family.”

The reasoning he’d used to get her...handed straight back to him. Never mind that it was eight weeks on. For her, nothing had changed. Nothing at all. While for him... He struggled to put it in perspective. Quite simply...the world had moved.

Matt hauled himself away from the chasm created by the rage of his own feelings. As much as he now recoiled from the logical reality of what he had proposed to Peta, it was safe ground, he fiercely told himself, a stable platform from which he could work forward.

She was his wife. He’d won that much. She’d just made it plain—once more—that she didn’t love him, and he could hardly blame her for her honesty. It hurt. It hurt more than he’d ever imagined it could. He could barely contain it. Yet he had to. It wouldn’t be fair to take his disappointment out on Peta, simply because he’d expected more than she was ready to give. He’d assumed too much, colouring her feelings with his own.

Time...

Matt clung to time as the answer to his need.

Forget the Latin lover.

Jealousy would only erode the togetherness that was possible between them. It wasn’t an easy thing to discard emotional baggage, even though it didn’t relate to anything he’d done to her. He had to be patient, give her time for it to fade into the background, keep her mind occupied with all that was good in their marriage.

Her hands moved to lie flat on the table. She stroked a finger over the rings he’d given her. Her face was grave, sad. It squeezed his heart.

“I’m sorry, Matt.” She lifted regretful eyes. “I’ve spoilt tonight, haven’t I?”

He cursed the impulse that had shattered his illusions. Yet wasn’t it better for his blinkers to be ripped off before he made other foolish assumptions? Accept what you have and do your best with it, he silently commanded.

The will to recover what had been lost prompted a shrug and a smile. “My mistake.” He couldn’t stop himself from adding hopefully, “All we’ve shared this past fortnight...it just didn’t feel like a convenience to me.”

He waved dismissively, not wanting it to sound like an accusation, putting her under pressure to reply.

She relaxed back in her chair and he saw her gather the determination to move past this fracture. She wanted to mend it. The wish—the need—was in her eyes as she tried a teasing smile. “Mutual lust can go a long way.”

Matt snatched up the ball and ran with it. “And highly pleasurable it is, too.” He managed an appreciative grin.

“It’s been a wonderful honeymoon, Matt,” she pressed on with a rush of warmth. “We’ve had so much fun.”

“I’ve enjoyed every minute of it,” he rolled out with relish.

“Me, too. Especially the whitewater rafting. Though it was so scary at one point my heart was in my mouth.”

Matt effected a quizzical look. “Have I pushed you further than you wanted to go?”

She laughed and shook her head.

They bantered on, recalling the high moments they’d shared, doing their utmost to recapture the mood of taking pleasure in each other, pushing the bad stuff behind them.

But for Matt, it didn’t go away, no matter how hard he worked at it. He sensed it didn’t go away for Peta, either. They covered it up but it lay underneath everything they said and did, a dark area overlaid with bubble and froth.

Peta forced herself to eat the cheesecake she’d ended up ordering because they were pretending so hard that everything was all right.

But it wasn’t all right.