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“It was Matt who bought it,” she boasted.
The cornflower blue eyes widened and Matt had the sinking feeling they were propped open with dollar signs as they stared at him, probably calculating how much he was worth. He didn’t want her to want him for his money. He hated this kind of boasting, hated how the knowledge of his wealth could affect people’s opinion of him, their manner towards him, their assumptions about him.
“It’s an investment,” he said curtly. “I don’t live in it. It’s rented out to cover the loan from the bank. It’s a matter of negative gearing...”
He clamped his mouth shut, stopping himself from explaining how he managed his finances. It wouldn’t do any good. The damage was done. Her eyes had taken on a speculative look, no doubt seeing him as a far more attractive proposition than previously.
Funny... the question of money had never come into the equation of his relationships with Janelle and Skye. Janelle had been earning a six figure income from her legal practice. Skye was a high-flyer in the fashion industry, probably raking in a fortune of her own. Matt didn’t know what an airline stewardess earned but it wouldn’t be in that league.
Did the thought of snagging a millionaire excite her? Maybe she would now loosen up her underwear. The thought did not excite him. He much preferred Peta, the fighter.
“Excuse me. Dinner calls,” he muttered, rising from the table to go to the hot buffet where the main course was laid out. Let his mother babble on if she had to. Suddenly he didn’t care.
Barbecued chicken, boiled potato, broccoli, beans, grilled tomato with basil...not bad...except he’d somehow lost his appetite. Nevertheless, he heaped up his plate and returned to the table. A man had to eat. Peta and his mother and the others from the table had joined the queue to the buffet so he could salt his food without an eyebrow raised. Driven by a sense of discontent he almost drowned it in salt.
His garrulous mother and the tantalising red sweater returned to torment him again. Matt tried to concentrate his attention on the meal but his mind kept wandering. Maybe he was being oversensitive about the money issue. He wished it hadn’t been brought up so soon, but there was no denying the advantages of being financially secure when it came to marriage. Peta had to see there was no problem about starting a family straight away. Of course, other important factors had to be weighed first. Like her attitude towards sex. Especially with him!
The two women chatted on about family. He learnt that Peta had two older brothers, John and Paul, as well as the younger sister, Megan, who’d just had a baby. Two boys, two girls...the same family she wanted. Her parents lived at Blackheath, up in the Blue Mountains, about two hours’ journey from Sydney.
In turn, his mother explained Matt was an only child. She’d almost died having him, and his father wouldn’t risk her trying for any more. Which was a shame, since there was only Matt to carry on the family line and provide her with grandchildren and he was now thirty-three and still single. Heavy sigh.
“I daresay you spoiled him terribly since he was your only child,” Peta remarked sweetly.
Matt instantly recognised a dig at him. His gaze flew up. “I was not spoiled,” he stated firmly before his mother could begin raving on about his childhood, indulging herself with a string of potentially embarrassing memories.
“He was always good-natured,” she popped in, thankfully showing admirable restraint.
“My father set rules and he saw that I kept to them,” Matt insisted, holding Peta’s challenging gaze. “He taught me responsibility and I respected his lessons. I’d do the same with my own kids. If I ever have them,” he added darkly, resenting her assumption he’d been a spoiled little rich kid.
“Then why do I have the impression you’re used to getting your own way?” she inquired archly.
“Probably because I’ve made my own way,” he retorted. He certainly hadn’t had everything handed to him on a plate. His parents had been reasonably well off but they’d never had the kind of money he’d accumulated.
She smiled but it wasn’t a smile of acceptance or approval. “So now you feel you can buy anything or anybody you want.”
Her eyes said... Not me, Mister. Not in a million years!
He stared directly into the glittering derision, fiercely willing her to back down from the insulting assumption she was making about him. Her gaze did not waver. Neither did the sparks of contempt. To Matt, it was like a punch in the guts, draining him of any lingering desire to win her over.
The accusation of being a cheat had some basis. It could be excused, even turned into a bit of fun between them. But not this. He didn’t care where she was coming from or what some other man had done to her, she had no cause to think he used his money to get himself a woman. As though he couldn’t attract anyone on his own merits!
“Actually, I have no taste for whores or gold-diggers,” he drawled, mentally sliding sheets of steel between him and the woman who was bent on belittling him so meanly. His eyes returned her contempt and he had the brief, savage satisfaction of seeing her recoil from it.
“Matt!”
The shock in his mother’s voice tapped at his social conscience. Polite behaviour should reign at the dinner table. “I’m sorry.” He raised his eyebrows, inviting correction for the crass comment. “Did I misunderstand the implication in what you were saying about me, Peta?”
Her cheeks flooded with hot colour.
Good! If she wanted to fire arrows, let her burn from the sting of them!
“Perhaps I should have said I can’t buy the kind of wife I want,” he went on. “She’d have to want for herself, the same things I want out of
marriage. Otherwise it wouldn’t work, and not all the money in the world could fix it.”
Let her chew on that!
“Money does help though, Matt,” his mother put in anxiously, worried by the tension in the air which was not at all conducive to the outcome she wanted from this encounter. “Financial problems often put a strain on a marriage. It’s much better not having to worry.”
