An Heir Made in the Marriage Bed
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Anne Mather
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Chapter One
THE LATE AFTERNOON sun was still too hot.
Matt Novak shifted impatiently on the cushioned recliner his mother had had one of the maids place in the shaded area of the patio. The khaki shorts he was wearing with a black tee shirt were damp with perspiration. But he intended to go to the gym later. He was sick and tired of doing nothing at all.
Ahead of him, sunlight was dazzling on the waters of the canal that lapped against the sea wall. Even the dark sunglasses he was wearing couldn’t entirely protect his eyes from the glare of the bay beyond.
There was a banyan tree beside the patio, its gnarled branches almost invisible beneath trailing blossoms of flowering vines. His father’s sailing dinghy was tied to the dock, rocking gently at its mooring. He could smell the dampness of the vegetation growing out of the waterway and the unmistakeable scent of the sea.
It was all very beautiful and very peaceful, but Matt had had enough of being treated like an invalid. To begin with, it had been quite pleasant to be waited on hand and foot, but now his mother was beginning to get on his nerves. She made no attempt to hide her disapproval when he went and bench-pressed his own weight in the gym. She really didn’t want to accept that he was feeling fine.
As witness her reluctance to let him use a computer.
His own laptop and phone had been stolen while he was in the hospital in Caracas, and to begin with he couldn’t have cared less. The tropical fever that had struck him down during his trip to Venezuela had been very unpleasant, and he’d needed all his strength to defeat it. But his mother wouldn’t accept that he was over that now, and she was doing everything in her power to keep him here in Coral Gables.
The only fly in her ointment was that his father had abandoned his retirement and taken over the New York office of Novak Oil Exploration and Shipping again. Matt’s job until three months ago.
He scowled. Not that he objected to that. He’d already decided that spending the rest of his life in a boardroom wasn’t for him. Now he had to convince his parents of the fact.
However that wasn’t all that was bugging him at this moment. Despite the many emails he’d asked his mother to send to his estranged wife who lived in London, Joanna hadn’t responded to any of them.
Yes, she was probably still mad at him. He got that. But didn’t she care now if he lived or died? It seemed not, and, although he had replaced his iPhone, she’d changed her number after their separation.
He could have rung the gallery where she was working, but he had no desire to speak to David Bellamy. He had more pride than to admit he didn’t have his wife’s new number. But he was planning to leave for London at the end of the week. The sooner he could speak to her in person, the better.
The sound of a car’s engine broke the silence.
Matt stiffened, wondering who was visiting his mother today. Then he remembered. His sister, Sophie, who was staying with them at the moment, had gone into Miami to see one of her friends off at the airport. He thought the engine was that of his mother’s little Mazda, but, at the sound of more than one pair of footsteps coming along the paved pathway from the front of the house, he wondered who the hell Sophie had brought back with her.
Not another woman for him to admire, he hoped. He’d had his fill of his mother’s attempts to interest him in some well-connected girl. He and Joanna might be having their problems, but they were still married and he firmly believed they’d eventually work their issues out.
But it wasn’t a friend of Sophie’s. Well, only indirectly.
The young woman following his sister was far more familiar to him. Tall and slim, yet with a curvaceous figure, shown to effect in an open-necked silk shirt and a swirly skirt that ended just above her knees, she looked stunning. A sexy riot of sun-streaked hair curled about her shoulders, and she met his startled gaze with wary violet eyes.
The last time he’d seen his estranged wife had been at her father’s funeral nine months ago. Though on that occasion she hadn’t known he was there. Before that, it had been when she’d walked out of their London apartment. She’d sworn then she never wanted to see him again, and yet here she was.
Halleluiah!
Sophie looked anxious, he thought. ‘Look who I found at the airport,’ she exclaimed, trying for a cheerful tone, and Matt got instantly to his feet.
For her part, Joanna was on edge. She hadn’t wanted to come here, to Matt’s parents’ house. Not like this. She needed to speak to her husband, of course she did, but she’d booked herself a room for the night at a hotel on Miami Beach and she’d been hoping to invite Matt to join her for dinner that evening. Turning up here, unannounced, had not been her intention.
Until Sophie had informed her that Matt had been seriously ill.
When she’d boarded the flight from New York to Miami that morning, she hadn’t really known if she’d find her husband here. He wasn’t in London, and she’d discovered he wasn’t at the New York office either, so she’d known he could be anywhere.
The Novak Corporation or NovCo, as it appeared on the stock exchange, had offices all over the world. But Matt tended to work in one of two places and, after flying to New York and learning that only the elder Mr Novak was available, she’d felt compelled to try here.
Of course, she’d wondered why Matt’s father should be in charge. Oliver Novak had retired to Florida a couple of years ago, and Joanna was sure he wouldn’t have returned to work unless something was wrong. But even then, it hadn’t occurred to her that Matt might be involved.
She could have asked to speak to Oliver, she supposed. That would have been the sensible thing to do. But, much as she liked Matt’s father, she was loath to involve him in what was actually a personal affair. This was something she needed to speak to her husband about herself.
She’d decided to come to Florida as a last resort. It didn’t necessarily follow that if Oliver Novak was in New York, his son was in Miami, but it was worth a try. Maybe Matt wasn’t reading his emails, which she found hard to believe. Or maybe he was simply ignoring her demands.
She wasn’t looking forward to seeing his mother again. Adrienne Novak had never liked her. Joanna was sure she’d have been delighted when she and Matt separated. She’d never regarded Joanna as good enough for her son, and had lost no opportunity to create trouble for them.
It had been particularly painful for Joanna when she and Matt had been trying for a baby. Despite consulting fertility calendars and temperature gauges, Joanna hadn’t fallen pregnant, and Adrienne had implied that, as the Novaks’ only son, Matt naturally wanted an heir. And if not with her...
Adrienne hadn’t finished the sentence, but Joanna had known exactly what she meant. Her mother-in-law had taken every opportunity to turn the knife.
It was totally by chance that Joanna had run into Matt’s sister at the airport. Sophie had been there to say goodbye to a friend from California, and she’d been delighted to see her sister-in-law.
She and Joanna had been good friends in the days when they had lived in New York. Sophie was older than Matt, but nothing at all like her mother. She’d sympathised with Joanna’s disappointment at not having a baby, even though her own marriage, engineered by her mother, was heading for the rocks.
Sophie, learning that Joanna was here to see Matt, had suggested that she should come back to the house with her. And when Joanna had demurred, explaining that she’d planned to stay at a hotel for tonight, Sophie had said something that had totally changed her mind.
‘Matt’s virtually recovered now and he’ll be so glad to see you,’ she’d chattered on guilelessly. ‘You know what my mother’s like. Even though Matt’s got over the infection, she’s hoping to keep him at home for a few more days at least.’
Not knowing what Sophie was talking about, Joanna had been shocked to learn that her husband was recovering from some tropical illness he’d picked up in South America. It explained why their father was running the company in his absence, but she wished someone had let her know.
Matt wouldn’t want her to stay at a hotel, Sophie had insisted, although Joanna had seen the curiosity in her sister-in-law’s eyes. Which begged the question, what had Matt told his parents about their break-up? Surely, he’d explained to his family why Joanna was trying to contact him now?
It seemed not.
Whatever, Joanna had known she wouldn’t be welcome at the house in Coral Gables whether Matt was there or not. Yet if Matt’s mother knew why she’d been trying to get in touch with her son, why hadn’t she told him? Bearing in mind the length of their separation, Joanna was surprised she hadn’t persuaded her son to apply for a divorce himself.
Sophie, of course, had jumped to her own conclusions. She’d assumed her sister-in-law was here to heal the breach. ‘I know you and Matt have had your problems,’ she’d said, aware that Joanna and her brother had been living apart for the past eleven months. ‘But I’m sure you’ve both had time to realise you need one another. Matt’s been pretty down ever since he came back from Venezuela.’
Which would be the result of the infection he’d picked up, Joanna had reminded herself firmly. It was unlikely his depression had anything to do with her. But Sophie had always been her friend and she’d been loath to upset her. And perhaps the sooner the confrontation was over—if there was to be a confrontation—the better.
Matt’s eyes were hidden behind dark glasses, and, despite her nerves, Joanna couldn’t help noticing that he had lost weight. Yet, at thirty-eight, he would still draw women’s eyes wherever he went, she conceded bitterly. She’d always thought he was the sexiest man she’d ever known.
But she wasn’t here to conduct a one-woman lust-fest, she thought irritably. Looking at him now, she felt sure the emails she’d sent must have reached him. Surely, he hadn’t been so ill that he couldn’t read his mail?
Despite his loss of weight, he looked reasonably fit. And just as disturbingly attractive as before. There was a brooding sensuality about his dark countenance that had always caused a pleasurable buzz inside her. And despite everything that had gone before, she was unhappily aware that that hadn’t changed.
Some people might say that his eyes were too deep-set or his mouth too thin, but she knew better. Matt’s looks were too sensual to be ignored. Which was why she’d sent the emails in the first place; why she’d hoped he wouldn’t contest her request for a divorce. She’d fought against having to see him again. She’d known how vulnerable she still was where he was concerned.
It was infuriating, but she couldn’t deny the way her breathing hitched when he came towards her. Don’t touch me, she thought, panicking, and felt a totally ridiculous urge to flee.
‘Jo,’ he said, pulling off his sunglasses, his deep voice scraping like sandpaper over her tortured nerves. ‘How good of you to come.’
Was that sarcasm in his voice? Joanna couldn’t be sure, but when he held out a hand to her, she pretended not to see it. She didn’t want him to detect the crazy tattoo of her heart or the heat that swept up her throat from her chest at his nearness. But she was unhappily aware that the hollow between her breasts revealed a betraying trace of moisture to his narrow-eyed gaze.
‘Sophie says you’ve been ill,’ she said quickly, sensing his appraisal and wishing she hadn’t unfastened her shirt on the trip from the airport. The vest below the shirt was adequate, but hardly modest. ‘I’m sorry. Are you feeling better now?’
Matt’s hand dropped to his side and he regarded her through puzzled eyes. His dark lashes narrowed his gaze, but she sensed she’d said—and probably done—the wrong thing. Didn’t he know that no one had thought to inform her of his state of health?
‘I’m surprised you took so long to get here,’ he responded, unknowingly answering her question. And Sophie, sensing that all was not as it should be, broke in.
‘I found Joanna at the airport,’ she exclaimed, evidently trying to divert the conversation. ‘She’d just flown in from New York this morning. She was planning to book into a hotel, but I persuaded her to come with me instead.’
‘Really?’ said Matt, and from his tone Joanna sensed he definitely wasn’t pleased. His eyes impaled her. ‘Why were you planning on staying at a hotel?’
‘I thought it was wise.’ Joanna tried to sound casual. ‘After all, this is your parents’ house and I hadn’t warned anyone I was coming.’
‘Did you feel you had to?’
‘Obviously,’ she said, not really understanding where this was going.
‘But you got the emails my mother sent you, I assume,’ said Matt impatiently. ‘I have to admit, I’d expected a more—what shall I say? —sympathetic response?’
Which was when Sophie evidently decided to leave them to it. With a rueful wave of her hand, and a ‘See you later’, she slipped away into the house.
But as far as Joanna was concerned, the older girl’s departure only heightened the tension between them and she took an involuntary step backwards. What emails was he talking about? Evidently not her own.
Shaking her head, she went on, ‘Believe it or not, when I flew down from New York, I knew nothing about your illness. If I had, I’d have got in touch with you sooner. When I found out you weren’t at the New York office, I could only guess where you might be.’
‘Didn’t my father tell you?’ Matt asked impatiently, and then realised that if Oliver had seen Joanna—or spoken to her, for that matter—he’d have let his son know.
‘I didn’t speak to your father,’ said Joanna uncomfortably. ‘I wanted to speak to you.’
‘Am I to understand that you’ve had no word from me?’
‘Yes.’ Joanna squared her shoulders. ‘Why would I lie?’
‘Why indeed?’
Joanna was indignant. ‘If you’d bothered to read any of my messages, you’d know why I’m here.’
‘Your messages?’ Matt looked bemused and Joanna felt a sense of disbelief.
‘This is ridiculous,’ she exclaimed. ‘We’re talking at cross purposes here. I’m talking about the half-dozen or so emails I’ve sent you in the past few weeks.’ She steeled herself to meet his gaze. ‘I can’t believe you haven’t read any of them.’
‘I haven’t.’ Matt returned her stare. ‘First of all, I’ve been in hospital in both Caracas and Miami. And afterwards, I let my mother deal with any correspondence.’
Oh, why am I not surprised? thought Joanna bitterly, as comprehension dawned. What a golden opportunity for Adrienne to drive another wedge between them this had been.
If there hadn’t been one there already, she appended bitterly.
‘That’s why my father’s in New York.’ Matt lifted his shoulders in a dismissive gesture. ‘As soon as he realised I’d need some time to convalesce, he insisted on taking over. I suspect retirement was getting boring. Whatever, he couldn’t wait to get on the plane.’
Taking over was something the Novaks were very familiar with, Joanna thought grimly. But when Oliver Novak had had a mild stroke two years ago, his doctors had advised him to give up his job as CEO of NovCo.
That was when Matt had taken over, and because Joanna hadn’t wanted to leave her father, who’d just been diagnosed with lung cancer, Matt had agreed that he should divide his time between the New York hub and the London affiliate.
A double-edged sword, Joanna admitted now. Her and Matt’s relationship had already been strained by their inability to conceive, and her unwillingness to discuss her feelings with him. It hadn’t helped at all to hear about Matt wining and dining male and female investors, even though that had always been part of his job.
It had never bothered her before, she conceded. In those days, she’d believed Matt loved her, and she’d trusted him implicitly. But being unable to conceive had made her vulnerable, in ways she’d never considered before.
‘I had no idea what was going on,’ she declared now, looping the strap of her bag over her shoulder and straightening her spine to face him. ‘I’m not without feelings, you know.’
But she suspected she now knew what had happened to the messages she’d sent Matt. If they’d passed through his mother’s hands, Adrienne must have read them. But that didn’t really explain why she hadn’t passed them on.
Nevertheless, her reasons for being here hadn’t changed. She wanted a divorce. It was as simple and as complicated as that. Simple, because all Matt had to do was agree not to contest it; and complicated, because when her father sold his small company to the Novak Corporation, Matt had made her a shareholder in NovCo.
Not that she wanted any part of the organisation now. But the legal aspects of the situation would have to be gone through. She had hoped that after this interview Matt might come to London, which would have made things easier. But she was here now and she had to accept the situation as it was.
She should have taken David Bellamy’s advice, she thought ruefully. Her boss at the art gallery, where she’d been working when she met Matt and where she was working again now, had warned her she should leave any communication between them to a solicitor. David had never liked Matt. He had been of the opinion that a man like Matthew Novak was used to women falling at his feet, and he’d been convinced their marriage wouldn’t last.
And it hadn’t.
‘You know what he’s like,’ David had said on more than one occasion. ‘He believes he can twist you round his little finger. And if he thinks I’m involved in your decision, he’s bound to be suspicious. Do you really want to give him the chance to change your mind?’
‘Matt couldn’t do that,’ she’d retorted at once, the distance between them convincing her she was right.
And she was right, she silently insisted. She had only to think of her father, and the torment he must have suffered during his last illness, to know there was no going back.
Of course, that was months ago now, and her father was dead. But the bitterness she’d felt towards Matt had never gone away. She’d even convinced herself that the love they’d shared had been only a mirage. She was an independent woman these days and she wanted to keep it that way.
Ergo, the divorce.
Even so, she hadn’t been prepared for learning that Matt had been ill. When Sophie had first told her what had been going on, her reaction had made a mockery of everything she’d claimed.
She’d truly believed she was immune to Matt’s dark attraction; that she’d be able to look at him and speak to him without feeling the pull of his sensuality.
But once again, she’d been wrong...
