Шантель Шоу – Hired: Mistress: Wanted: Mistress and Mother / His Private Mistress / The Millionaire's Secret Mistress (страница 3)

And water features!

Matilda’s signature pieces were definitely in the plural—the gentle sound of running water audible at every turn, blocking out the hum of traffic or nearby people to enable peace or a private conversation. Hugh Keller had listened as she’d painted her vision with words, her hands flailing like windmills as she’d invited him into her mind’s eye, described in minute detail the image she could so clearly see—a centre piece of water jets, shooting from the ground at various, random intervals, catching the sun and the colour from the garden—a centre piece where the elderly could sit and watch and children could play. And now that vision was finally a reality. In just a few moments’ time, when Hugh cut the ribbon, the water features would be turned on and the garden declared open for all to enjoy!

‘Matilda!’ From all angles her name was being called and Matilda was glad for her momentary popularity—glad for the excuse to slip away from the man she’d walked in with. Not that he’d notice, Matilda thought, accepting congratulations and a welcome glass of champagne, but cross with herself that on this, perhaps the most important day of her life, a day when she should be making contacts, focusing on her achievement, instead she was recalling the brief encounter that had literally left her breathless, her mind drifting from the vitally important to the completely irrelevant.

He’d been nothing but rude, Matilda reminded herself firmly, smiling as Hugh waved through the crowd and made his way over towards her.

Very rude, Matilda reiterated to herself—good-looking he may be, impossibly sexy even, but he was obnoxious and—

‘Hi, Hugh.’ Matilda kissed the elderly gentleman on the cheek and dragged her mind back to the important event that was taking place. She listened intently as Hugh briefed her on the order of the speeches and part she would take in the day’s events, but somewhere between Hugh reminding her to thank the mayor and the various sponsors Matilda’s mind wandered, along with her eyes—coming to rest on that haughty profile that had both inflamed and enraged her since the moment of impact. Watching a man who stood a foot above a dignified crowd, engaged in conversation yet somehow remaining aloof, somehow standing apart from the rest.

And maybe he sensed he was being watched, perhaps it was her longing that made him turn around, but suddenly he was looking at her, making her feel just as he had a few moments ago in the lift, plunging her back to sample again those giddy, confusing sensations he somehow triggered. Suddenly her ability to concentrate on what Hugh was saying was reduced to ADHD proportions, the chatter in the garden fading into a distant hum as he blatantly held her gaze, just stared directly back at her as with cheeks darkening she boldly did the same. Although the sensible part of her mind was telling her to terminate things, to tear her eyes away, turn her back on him, halt this here and now, somehow she switched her internal remote to mute, somehow she tuned out the warnings and focused instead on the delicious picture.

‘Once things calm down, hopefully we can discuss it.’ Someone inadvertently knocking her elbow had Matilda snapping back to attention, but way too late to even attempt a recovery, Matilda realised as Hugh gave her a concerned look. ‘Are you OK?’

‘I’m so sorry, Hugh.’ Reaching for her mental remote control, Matilda raised the volume, glanced at the gold band on the stranger’s ring finger and, pointedly turning her back, flashed a genuinely apologetic smile. ‘I really am. I completely missed that last bit of what you said. I’m a bundle of nerves at the moment, checking out that everything’s looking OK…’

‘Everything’s looking wonderful, Matilda,’ Hugh soothed, making her feel even guiltier! ‘You’ve done an amazing job. I can’t believe the transformation—just a bare old helipad and rooftop and now it’s this oasis. Everyone who’s been up here, from porters to consultants, has raved about it. I’m just glad it’s finally going to be open for the people who really deserve to enjoy it: the patients and relatives.’

‘Me, too.’ Matilda smiled. ‘So, what was it you wanted to discuss, Hugh?’

‘A job.’ Hugh smiled. ‘Though I hear you’re rather in demand these days.’

‘Only thanks to you,’ Matilda admitted. ‘What sort of job?’

But it was Hugh who was distracted now, smiling at the mayor who was making his way towards them. ‘Perhaps we could talk after the speeches—when things have calmed down a bit.’

‘Of course.’ Matilda nodded. ‘I’ll look forward to it!’ More than Hugh knew. The thought of giving a speech—of facing this crowd, no matter how friendly—had filled her with dread for weeks now. The business side of running a business was really not her forte, but she’d done her best to look the part: had been to the beautician’s and had her hair and make-up done—her hair today was neatly put up instead of thrown into a ponytail, expensive foundation replacing the usual slick of sun block and mascara. And the shorts, T-shirts and beloved Blundstone boots, which were her usual fare, had been replaced with a snappy little suit and painfully high heels. As the dreaded speeches started, Matilda stood with mounting heart rate and a very fixed smile, listening in suicidal despair as all her carefully thought-out lines and supposedly random thoughts were one by one used by the speakers that came before her. Tossing the little cards she had so carefully prepared into her—new—handbag, Matilda took to the microphone, smile firmly in place as Hugh adjusted it to her rather small height and the PA system shrieked in protest. Staring back at the mixture of curious and bored faces, only one really captured her, and she awaited his reaction—wondered how he would respond when he realised who he had insulted. But he wasn’t even looking—his attention held by some ravishing brunette who was blatantly flirting with him. Flicking her eyes away, Matilda embarked on the first speech in her adult life, carefully thanking the people Hugh had mentioned before taking a deep breath and dragging in the heady fragrance of springtime and, as she always did, drawing strength from it.

‘When I first met Hugh to discuss the garden, it was very clear that the hospital wanted a place that would provide respite,’ Matilda started. ‘A place where people could come and find if not peace then somewhere where they could gather their thoughts or even just take a breath that didn’t smell of hospitals.’ A few knowing nods from the crowd told her she was on the right track. ‘With the help of many, many people, I think we’ve been able to provide that. Hospitals can be stressful places, not just for the patients and relatives but for the staff also, and my aim when I took on this job was to create an area void of signs and directions and overhead loudspeakers, a place where people could forget for a little while all that was going on beneath them, and hopefully that’s been achieved.’

There were probably a million and one other things she could have said, no doubt someone else who needed to be thanked, but glancing out beyond the crowd, seeing the garden that had lived only in her mind’s eye alive and vibrant, Matilda decided it was time to let Mother Nature speak for herself, to wrap up the speeches and let the crowd explore the haven she had tried so hard to create. She summed up with one heartfelt word.

‘Enjoy!’

As Hugh cut the ribbon and the water jets danced into life, thin ribbons of water leaping into the air and catching the sunlight, Matilda felt a surge of pride at the oohs of the crowd and the excited shrieks of the children, doing just as she had intended: getting thoroughly wet and laughing as they did so. Only there was one child that didn’t join in with the giggling and running, one little toddler who stood perfectly still, staring transfixed at the jets of water with huge solemn eyes, blonde curls framing her face. For some reason Matilda found herself staring, found herself almost willing the little girl to run and dance with the others, to see expression in that little frozen face.

‘It’s pretty, isn’t it?’ Crouching down beside her, Matilda held one of her hands out, breaking the stream of one of the jets, the cool water running through her fingers. ‘You can touch it,’ Matilda said, watching as slowly, almost fearfully a little fat hand joined Matilda’s. A glimmer of a smile shivered on the little girl’s lips, those solemn eyes glittering now as she joined in with the simple pleasure. As she saw Hugh coming over, Matilda found herself strangely reluctant to leave the child, sure that with just another few moments she could have had her running and dancing with the rest of the children.

‘My granddaughter, Alex,’ Hugh introduced them, crouching down also, but his presence went unnoted by Alex, her attention focused on the water running through her hands. ‘She seems to like you.’

‘She’s adorable.’ Matilda smiled, but it wavered on her lips, questions starting to form in her mind as the little girl still just stood there, not moving, not acknowledging the other children or her grandfather, just utterly, utterly lost in her own little world. ‘How old is she?’