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An Heir Made in the Marriage Bed by Anne Mather (11)

MATT NOVAK SWUNG the tiller of his sleek racing dinghy towards the shore, and, ducking to avoid the boom, he guided the craft smoothly into the landing at Long Point.

It was still comparatively early in the morning. These days he found it difficult to sleep beyond six a.m., and in consequence he’d started taking the dinghy out before many of his fellow yachtsmen were on the water. Which suited him just fine.

While he was gradually adapting to the island lifestyle, he had no desire to get to know other ex-pats like himself. He had come to the Bahamas to escape the corporate world. Not to make friends with the kind of people he’d left behind.

‘You okay, Mr Matt?’

Henry Powell was waiting for him on the jetty and caught the rope that Matt threw to him, expertly fastening the craft to an iron mooring ring.

‘I’m good,’ Matt responded, checking that the sail was secure before vaulting onto the landing. He raked back his unruly hair with a careless hand. ‘Beautiful morning, Henry.’

‘All mornings on Cable Cay are beautiful mornings,’ declared Henry proudly.

He was an older man, of medium height and thick-set, his dark face leathery, lined from the sun. He and Matt had known one another since Matt was a boy, when his father had first brought him here on holiday all those years ago.

Oliver Novak had bought the villa at Long Point, but in recent years, he’d taken to renting it out during the winter months, with Henry acting as his steward. But Henry had been delighted when Matt had decided to buy the place from his father and occupy it on a more permanent basis.

Matt occasionally spent a week in New York, acting as his father’s deputy, but since Sophie was making such a success of her tenure as CEO of NovCo, it was no longer such a necessary chore.

Henry paused now, and then added significantly, ‘You ready to go up to the villa now, Mr Matt? ’Cos I have to tell you, you got a visitor.’

Matt stifled a curse and gave the older man a grim look. ‘A visitor?’ He could only think of his mother and he definitely did not want to see her.

‘Yes, sir, Mr Matt.’ Henry evidently sensed it was not news his employer wanted to hear. ‘It’s Ms Sophie. She spent last night in Nassau and flew out here this morning.’

‘Sophie?’ Matt was both shocked and alarmed. He could think of no reason why Sophie might come all this way to see him unless something bad had happened to their father. Or to the company. ‘Did she say why she was here?’ he queried, and Henry shook his head. ‘Does she look worried? Upset? What?’

Henry was thoughtful for a moment. ‘She looks pretty much the way she always looks,’ he decided cheerfully. ‘I left her drinking coffee with Teresa.’

Matt checked the pockets of his shorts for his phone and briefly scanned the screen. No texts were screaming at him; no email messages begging to be read. So why the hell hadn’t Sophie warned him she was coming? Unless she’d already guessed she wouldn’t be welcome.

The landing where Matt was standing was just a few yards from the villa. Away to his left, one of the island’s beautiful white sand beaches stretched away to a rocky promontory. To his right, the beach gave way to a thicket of mangroves clustered at the water’s edge, which gave Long Point its complete privacy.

A little way beyond the mangroves was the small anchorage of Cable Bay, a favourite spot with the sailing fraternity. And not far from that was the small township of Cable Cay itself, and the tiny airport of Cable West.

Matt started towards the villa. He was surrounded by blossoming poinsettia, flowering hibiscus, and other colourful shrubs; vivid splashes of colour amid the palms that shielded the property from public view. That was one of the reasons why Oliver Novak had originally bought the villa. It was an oasis of privacy on what was a small, but fairly popular, island.

As Matt stalked up the crushed shell path to the villa, he endeavoured to find some comfort in the fact that had it been a matter of life and death, his mother would surely have let him know.

He found Sophie relaxing on the veranda that encircled the villa. A jug of coffee and two mugs were on the table in front of her, although Teresa had obviously returned to her duties.

Sophie had evidently packed for the weather in the islands. Her dark hair was casually caught up in a ponytail, and beige shorts and a floral halter top were definitely not the usual wear for January in New York.

‘Hey,’ she said, when she saw him, getting up as he climbed the steps to the veranda and bestowing a sisterly kiss on his stubbled cheek. ‘Oh, you need a shave!’

Matt shrugged. ‘I’m not going anywhere, am I?’ He paused. ‘How are things in New York?’

‘Things are going great. As you know, if you remember how it was on your last visit.’ Sophie sank back into her seat. ‘We got the contract for the new exploration in the Arctic. And Andy Reichert thinks we might exceed all expectations this year.’

Matt pulled a wry face. ‘Good for Andy.’

‘You’re not jealous, are you?’

Matt shook his head. ‘I always thought he’d make a good CFO. Give him my congratulations and tell him in my opinion he’s the best man for the job.’

Sophie snorted. ‘I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.’

‘You’re doing good, too, of course,’ said Matt mildly, aware that Sophie could take offence very easily. ‘But I can’t believe you came here just to brag about your and Andy’s success. What’s going on? Dad and Mom are okay, aren’t they?’

Sophie looked a little less confident now. ‘Oh—sure,’ she said. ‘Dad has physio every day, and, although he’ll never be the man he once was, he’s gradually coming to terms with his limitations.’ She paused. ‘Mom’s okay, too. I guess she’s glad Dad’s back home in Miami.’

‘Right.’ Matt tried to keep his impatience in check and with some tolerance, he said, ‘So what is this? A break from routine? An impromptu holiday? If so, you should have let me—’

‘Have you seen Joanna lately?’

Matt frowned. ‘No.’ He paused. ‘Why would I? We’re divorced, Sophie. You know that.’

‘Has she been in touch?’

‘No.’ Matt was getting impatient. ‘What is this, Sophie? Why are you asking me these questions?’

Sophie sighed. ‘I just wondered if she’d phoned you, that’s all. Do you think she’d have let you know if she was thinking of getting married again?’

Sophie’s words hit Matt like a blow to his solar plexus. For a few moments, he could only stand there, gazing blankly at her, striving to breathe normally. Then he sought one of the cushioned bamboo chairs at the other side of the table and dragged himself into it.

Sophie looked anxious now, and when Henry appeared from the back of the villa, she said swiftly, ‘Will you get some brandy for Mr Matt? He—he’s not feeling well.’

‘Sure thing,’ began the old man, but Matt stopped him.

‘No brandy, Henry. Coffee will do.’

When they were alone again, Matt sucked in a grim breath. ‘Who told you she’s getting married again?’

‘No one.’ Sophie looked uncomfortable now. ‘I just thought she might be.’

‘And why would you think that? Have you spoken to Joanna?’

Sophie shrugged. ‘Well, I have seen her.’ She paused. ‘But I haven’t spoken to her.’

‘So this is all supposition?’

‘Sort of.’

‘What do you mean—sort of?’

Sophie looked unhappy now. ‘It’s not up to me to tell you what’s going on. I came here with the best of intentions. I can’t help it if you don’t like my news.’

Matt shook his head. ‘What Joanna does or doesn’t do is no concern of mine any more,’ he reminded her. ‘Okay, I agree, she might have let me know if she was thinking of getting married again. But it’s really nothing to do with me.’ He paused. ‘Where did this come from anyway? The London office?’

‘Well, I was in London,’ Sophie agreed reluctantly. ‘Actually, I’d decided to look her up.’ Sophie hesitated. ‘I went to the gallery. A week ago.’

Matt scowled. ‘So why didn’t you speak to her?’

‘I—I intended to, obviously.’ She paused and then continued, ‘I’d got a taxi to the gallery. It was a spur of the moment thing, and I was about to get out of the cab when I saw her. But she wasn’t alone. She was—she was with another man. They were really—you know—cosy with one another. He—kissed her, actually. So I just asked the driver to take me back to Oxford Street.’

Matt stifled a curse. Bellamy, he thought grimly. The other man had just been waiting for their divorce to be made final before making his move. Matt didn’t really know why he cared. Dammit, why couldn’t Sophie have kept this information to herself?

His scowl deepening, he said, ‘And you really expect me to go and see her?’ He shook his head. ‘Why?’

‘I think she might like to see you, that’s all.’

Matt’s mouth compressed. ‘That doesn’t make sense.’

‘Probably not.’ Sophie shrugged as if getting tired of the argument.

Matt gave her a brooding look. Joanna had always insisted that she and Bellamy were friends. Yet foolish as it was, he couldn’t bear the thought of her with anyone else.

Damn her!

His scowl deepened. ‘So do you think I’m harbouring some desperate wish to see her again?’

‘Aren’t you?’ Sophie was annoyingly direct.

Matt’s jaw hardened. ‘You should have got out of the cab and asked her what was going on instead of bringing this to me.’

Sophie groaned. ‘But I wouldn’t have known what to say.’

‘And you think I would?’

Matt’s hands curled into fists on the table. But fortunately, Henry appeared at that moment with a fresh pot of coffee, sugar, cream and two cups, and set his burden carefully in front of Sophie.

‘Will you...?’ he began and Sophie nodded.

‘Leave it to me, Henry,’ she said, with a grateful smile. ‘Thank you.’

She poured two cups, leaving Matt’s black but adding two sugars before pushing the cup towards him. ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘Drink it. You look as if you need it.’

Matt’s lips twisted. ‘Do I?’ His tone was gruff. ‘Sophie, I haven’t seen Joanna in—what? Five months?’

‘But you did go to London to see her after our father’s stroke, didn’t you? I thought maybe you and she had mended your differences or something.’

Matt shrugged. ‘Hardly that.’

‘But you took her back to the hotel when she was in Miami.’ Sophie hesitated. ‘Did you sleep with her?’

Matt took the coffee she’d poured him and swallowed a mouthful before replying, ‘What’s that got to do with you?’

Sophie stared at him incredulously. ‘You were with her when I called the hotel to tell you about our father, weren’t you? Was she the reason why you didn’t answer your phone? My God, Matt, I thought you had more sense than that.’

Not that it mattered now, but Matt had thought so, too.