Chapter Thirty-Seven
Twelfth Knight
‘Gemma.’
She froze, the heat in her skin intensifying as the snowball fell from her grasp.
‘Gem.’
Her heart lurching like a fishing boat hitting the waves beneath Polkerran’s lighthouse, Gemma spun round.
Matt met her stunned gaze with a hesitant smile.
‘What… I mean, how… ’ Gemma put a hand to her head, then wished she hadn’t as small lumps of ice from her glove slid down her forehead. Impatiently, she brushed the rivulets aside.
How was she breathing, let alone speaking?
Matt was, at least, suitably dressed for the weather this time, well wrapped up, with a warm scarf tucked round his neck. Packed snow caked his sturdy boots.
Gemma looked around, but there was no one about, no vehicles other than those already huddled under their snowy cloaks. ‘How did you even get here?’
A sheepish look crossed Matt’s face. ‘Don’t hate me for the damage to the environment, but I hitched a lift. In a helicopter.’
‘But why?’ Gemma’s brow furrowed. ‘Your phone… I messaged you. And I tried to call this morning, but—’
‘Ah. It’s all been a bit manic at Rivermills, haven’t had much time to deal with messages. Besides’ – Matt heaved his shoulders – ‘I decided to take your advice. I’ve been switching my phone off for a few hours each day.’
Still blindsided by Matt’s sudden appearance, Gemma eyed him in confusion. ‘But what are you doing in Baslow?’
He shuffled from foot to foot. ‘I wanted to talk to you… about some of your words.’
It took a second for this to sink in but, whatever tentative hopes might have risen at Matt’s unexpected appearance, they sank faster than an anchor dropped into the depths of the cove’s harbour. Then Gemma’s emotions snowballed, and she marched over to glare up at him.
‘Are you telling me you’ve dropped your bandmates in it and left Jonny unsupported, then taken a helicopter up here to talk about something that could easily be discussed on the phone? That’s so ridiculous and self-centred and—’
Gemma’s tirade was stopped – pretty effectively, it had to be said – by Matt’s mouth descending on hers.
It was an intense, albeit brief, kiss, but Gemma returned it willingly. After all, she’d been dreaming of having a good snog with Matt for some time, and she had no intention of wasting the opportunity.
When they drew apart, Matt shook his head.
‘Always so judging.’
‘Sorry. But what is going on? I don’t understand, and—’
‘Hell, Gem, you do ask a lot of questions!’ Matt looked around, then set off back along the path bordering the green. ‘Come on. It’s bloody freezing up north. Let’s get inside.’
‘We’re not up north!’ Gemma protested, a myriad of thoughts speeding through her mind. ‘We’re in the middle! And where are we going?’
‘My room,’ he threw over his shoulder.
‘Your what ?’
Gemma hurried after him as fast as the snow permitted as he headed up the slope towards the posh hotel ahead.
‘You’re at the Cavendish?’ Sheer relief at the realisation Matt wasn’t about to disappear as swiftly as he’d materialised swept through Gemma as she followed him into the building.
The receptionist smiled warmly as they entered, and Matt spoke to her briefly before turning to the right.
‘Come on.’ He led the way to the stairs. ‘I was early but they’re pretty empty, so I could get in the room straight away.’
‘It’s because the roads are impassable. Chatsworth had to close a few days earlier than planned, it makes a huge difference to how busy the village is.’
This inane chatter got them to the landing.
‘In here.’
‘Oh. My. God.’ Although Gemma’s heart rate hadn’t returned to normal since hearing Matt’s voice, she took a moment to appreciate the gorgeous sitting room, with its velvet sofa and armchairs, polished wood tables and elegant lamps. Heavy damask curtains framed the windows, and against the far wall was a mahogany side table, complete with a drinks tray sporting full decanters, the cut glass tumblers sparkling in the soft light. The coffee table held a basket of fruit and a vase of Christmas roses. There were wide double doors to one side, with brass fixings, no doubt to a bedroom, and another door open to a sumptuous bathroom. ‘This is so not a room, Matt.’
Dropping his coat on a chair, he looked around. ‘It isn’t?’ He met Gemma’s resigned look with a grin. ‘If you’re going to be picky, I’ll own up to it being their only suite. Give me your coat and stop making a fuss.’
Matt led Gemma to a couple of armchairs positioned near one of the windows and she sank into one, her mind in chaos and her heart racing with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation. Why had Matt kissed her? Had it truly been to shut her up? Perhaps she ought to have another rant, and—
‘I can hear your brain clucking.’ Matt raised an amused brow. ‘Question time?’
‘Answer time, I hope,’ Gemma retorted.
‘Always the argument.’
She huffed out a breath. Talking about lyrics could definitely wait! ‘I don’t understand your leaving them all the minute they arrived at Rivermills.’
‘I could hardly go before they got there! Besides, I haven’t rejoined the band, per se, so I’m not touring with them. The agreement I came to with Harry was to reinstate the offer of Rivermills so they could rehearse, reconnect and perhaps lay down some new tracks.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Matt held Gemma’s gaze for a second, then shrugged. ‘I wasn’t aware I hadn’t, to be honest. The only commitment I’ve made is to make a guest appearance on the tour as and when it fits with my plans. It seems to have energised the fan base, anyway. Ticket sales have started to pick up.’
‘And Jonny?’
‘Bryony and the baby are with him. The cottage will give them some distance, a chance to remain a family unit. That’s all Jonno needs. Bryony assures me she’s not walking, and she’s fierce with Harry.’
‘And you’ve given them some money, haven’t you?’
Matt looked evasive, but Gemma held his gaze firmly.
‘Jonno’s proud. I’ve tried to help before, but his wife is made of far more sensible stuff. She says it’s a loan until they’re straight, but I don’t want it back.’ Matt stirred in his seat. ‘Let’s sit more comfortably.’
He took Gemma’s hand and tugged, and she followed him over to the plush sofa, sinking down beside him. It smacked of intimacy, but what about the faceless Sophia, who was familiar with Matt’s bedroom in Hampshire?
That probably wasn’t the best question to ask next, as Gemma tried not to notice Matt’s thumb rhythmically stroking the back of her hand.
‘But what about your career hopes, your songs – our song?’
‘Ah, well.’ Matt settled back against the sofa cushions, releasing his hold on her hand. ‘The chopper belongs to one of Ryther’s companies. He’s supposed to be retired, but he likes to be involved, especially in the label he set up years ago, Secret Gem Records. Ryther happened to be up at the hotel after the fayre, having a meal with family. When he saw me in the bar, he came over and we got to talking. He asked me to send him some of the demos I’d been working on.’
Gemma’s brow shot up, and Matt smiled faintly. ‘He’s incredibly well connected. I bumped into him in the hallway at Harbourwatch – during the wedding reception – he’d been about to call me. Something urgent had come up.’
Despite her mind trying to grasp all Matt was saying, Gemma’s heart swelled with affection for Ryther.
‘I’d been liaising with his label since the fayre, with Sophia, mainly – she’s the PA looking after me. There’s already strong interest in the— our song. They wanted me in London urgently. An artist – a big one – was about to return to the States and wanted to meet me before they flew back on the second of Jan.’
‘Wow! I’m so happy for you, Matt!’
‘Sophia’s been a godsend too,’ he continued. ‘Her wife’s an estate agent, so she brought her down to value the Hampshire place.’
Gemma gave her knuckles a mental rap. She really needed to stop making assumptions. Then, she frowned. ‘But why are you selling it?’
‘I’m shedding them all. I told you I had several, didn’t I?’
She nodded. ‘But why now?’
‘Oliver.’
Humour filled Gemma’s face. ‘Running away together?’
‘Very funny.’ Matt took her hand in his again, and she threw caution to the wind, threading her fingers through his. ‘I finally feel I’ve got a purpose. Oliver’s been talking me through his business plans lately – he and Daniel have a few projects on the go, and I’m going to be part of it, initially as an investor, so I decided to free up some assets.’ His expression sobered as his gaze dropped to their intertwined fingers. ‘For more than ten years, I’ve had all these houses, Gem, but never one that felt like home. Not until Rivermills.’
Dark hazel eyes met green as Gemma tried to take it all in, but then Matt stood again, pulling her to her feet.
‘I wish you’d stop asking questions, because that wasn’t why I battled my way here.’
Before she could point out that being piloted and chauffeured was hardly a personal challenge, Matt placed a hand on each of her shoulders and lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss this time was languorous, their lips moving against each other slowly at first, then with increased urgency, until her hands crept up his shirt to his shoulders and then into the hair at the base of his neck as Matt’s arms encircled her.
When they finally broke apart, she leaned back against his arms, eyes searching his face. A smile tugged at his mouth, and the urge to reclaim it in another kiss was strong, but lovely though this was, Gemma needed more answers.
‘I still don’t understand why you needed to come here to say all this. And why are you kissing me?’