Chapter 41

DESPITE Matt King's unnerving company, Nicole loved his house. He ushered her into a large open living area which was instantly inviting, full of colour and casual comfort. The floor was of blue-green slate, cool underfoot. The room was cool, too, no doubt kept that way by an air- conditioner—blissful relief from the late-morning heat.

At one side, three green leather chesterfields formed a U to face a huge television screen. A long wooden table with eight chairs balanced it on the other side. A kitchen with a big island bench was accessible to both areas, and beyond them a wall of glass led out to a veranda.

Other walls held paintings of the rainforest and scenes of the Great Barrier Reef with its fabulous coral and tropical fish. It was very clear Matt King loved his environment and was very much at home in it. Even the outside of the house was painted green to merge with its surroundings and the approach to it was beautifully landscaped with palms and shrubs exhibiting exotic flowers or foliage.

"I'll get some refreshments," Matt said, heading into the kitchen. "Leave your things on the table and go on out to the veranda. It overhangs a creek so you'll find it cool enough. Nice place to relax with the sound of water adding to the view."

Any place she could relax was a good idea, Nicole thought, following Matt's instructions. At least he had given her back her hat to put on herself, and he wasn't crowding her now as she took it off again and set it on the table with her bag. Maybe it was stupid to feel so tense. Directing her onto his veranda surely indicated he was not about to pounce on her.

A sliding-glass door led onto it and Nicole moved straight over to the railing, drawn by the sound of rushing water. The creek below ran over clumps of boulders in a series of small cascades. It sparkled with a crystallike clarity and the view was so pretty with the banks covered with ferns, she momentarily forgot all her troubles.

Birds flitted amongst the trees, their calls adding a special music to the scene—soft warbles, sharp staccatos, tinkling trills. She caught glimpses of beautiful plumage; gold, purple, scarlet. This was a magical place and she thought how lucky Matt King was that he could lay claim to it. To live here with all this...the sheer natural beauty of it, the tranquillity... absolute Eden.

"Don't move," came the quietly voiced command from behind her. "Butterflies have landed on your hair. Just let them be until I get a flower and move them off."

She stood very still, entranced by the idea of butterflies being drawn to her, not frightened by her foreign presence. There was the sound of a tray being set on a table, Matt's footsteps as he walked to the end of the veranda and returned. Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed a bright red hibiscus bloom in his hand, a long yellow stamen at its centre. She felt a light brushing on her hair, then suddenly two vivid blue butterflies were fluttering in front of her, poised over the flower which Matt was now holding out over the railing.

"Oh!" she breathed in sheer wonder. "What a brilliant blue they are!" "Ulysses butterflies. Lots of them around here," Matt murmured. "The bright colour of your hair attracted them."

"Really?" She looked at him in surprise, still captivated by the pleasure of the experience.

He smiled, even with his eyes, and he was standing so close, it was like being bathed in tingling warmth. For a few heart-lifting moments, it seemed they shared the same vision of the marvels of nature, felt the same appreciation. Then the warmth simmered to a far less comfortable level and Nicole could feel herself tensing again.

"Drawn to the flame," he said in a soft musing tone that set her skin prickling. "I wonder how many it has consumed?''

"I beg your pardon?" she said stiffly. "Moths...men...your hair is a magnet." "It doesn't consume things."

"It has the allure of a femme fatale."

"I don't see you falling at my feet."

He laughed and teasingly drew the soft petals of the hibiscus flower down her cheek. It was a shockingly sensual action and he enjoyed every second of it while she lost the ability to breathe, let alone speak.

"Life is full of surprises," he said enigmatically. "Let me surprise your tastebuds with many exotic flavours."

He stepped back and gestured to the table where he'd left the tray. It was a table for two, cane with a glass top, and two cane chairs with green cushions on their seats stood waiting for them. The tray held a platter containing an array of sliced fruit, two small plates with knives and forks and two elegant flute glasses filled with what looked like...

"Champagne?" The word slipped out, bringing home to Nicole how far out of control she was.

"The best complement for the fruit,'' Matt said with an authority that seemed to make protesting the alcoholic drink too mean-spirited to try. He smiled encouragingly. "It's chilled, which I'm sure you'll appreciate."

He was waiting for her to take her chair. Nicole took a deep breath, needing to collect her scattered wits, and pushed her jelly-like legs into action. As she seated herself, Matt unloaded the tray and placed the scarlet hibiscus flower beside her glass of champagne, a taunting reminder of how easily she could lose her head with this man. She vowed to sip the champagne sparingly.

He sat down and grinned at her, anticipation of pleasure dancing in his eyes, making her heart contract with the thought that it was not the prospect of eating fruit exhilarating him. She was the target and he was lining her up for the kill. Although her mind was hopelessly woolly on what kill meant.

"I think we should start with what is commonly regarded as the king and queen of all tropical fruit." He forked two pieces of fruit onto her plate, pointing each one out as he named them. "The king is durian. The queen is mangosteen."

The durian was similar to a custard apple, only much richer in flavour.

Nicole preferred the more delicate taste of the sweet-acid segment of mangosteen. "I like the queen better," she declared.

"Perhaps the king is more of an acquired taste. The more you eat it the more addictive it becomes." Was he subtly promising this about himself?

"Now here we have the black sapote. It's like chocolate pudding."

He watched her taste it, making her acutely conscious of her mouth and the sensual pleasure of the fruit.

"You'll need to clean your palate after that one," he advised, picking up his glass of champagne and nodding to hers.

She followed suit as he sipped, her own gaze drawn to his mouth, wondering what it would taste like if he kissed her.

"Try a longan. It's originally from China and similar to a lychee." So it went on—exotic names, exotic tastes—but more and more

Nicole was thinking erotic, not exotic. There was a very sexy intimacy in sharing this feast of oral sensations, the conscious sorting out of flavours on the tongue, mouths moving in matching action, relishing delicious juices, trying to define interesting textures, watching each other's response, the telling expressions to each different experience...like an exciting journey of discovery... exciting on many levels.

Matt King...he stirred needs and desires in her that wanted answering. He embodied so much of all she had missed out on in her own life and the craving to know if he could fill that emptiness was growing stronger and stronger. It wasn't just that he was the sexiest man she'd ever met. It felt like...he was a complete person...and she wasn't.

Perhaps it had to do with having a firm foundation of family, a sense of roots, a clear continuity. She felt she was still looking for her place, both in a physical and spiritual sense. She wished this was her home, wished she could belong here, wished Matt King would invite her into more of his world.

"Would you like some more champagne?''

It jolted her into the realisation that she'd drained her glass without even noticing the fact. "No," she said quickly. "It was lovely, thank you. It's all been lovely...the park, your home, the fruit, sitting out here with this wonderful view..."

"And you haven't even minded my company," he slid in, his eyes telegraphing the certain knowledge of what had been shared in the past half hour.

Nicole shied from acknowledging too much, telling herself she still had to be careful of consequences. "You've been very generous."

"A pleasure." His smile seemed to mock her caution. "Would you like to see the photographs now?"

"Yes, please."

He laughed as he rose from his chair. "You sound like a little girl.

Which makes me wonder how full of contradictions you are, Nicole Redman."

"I'm not aware of any," she retorted lightly, standing to accompany him.

"You're very definitely a tantalising mix." He slanted her a mocking

look as he ushered her back into the house. "I'd find it interesting to delve into your history, but that's not why you're here, is it?"