When I Wasn't Watching by Michelle Kelly Page A

edge. ‘I’m a medium. I’ve had a message from your son’s spirit. He wants me to pass it on to you.’
    â€˜I’m not interested.’ Lucy slammed down the phone, her stomach in knots and breathing shallow. She tried to breathe deeply, to swallow the rising anger, but her control snapped when the phone rang again, a shrill, insistent tone that suddenly seemed far too loud, hurting her head. She snatched up the receiver.
    Why can’t you people just leave me alone!’ she screamed. There was a shocked silence.
    â€˜Lucy?’
    Matt.
    â€˜Oh God, I’m so sorry, I had some crazy woman on the phone.’
    â€˜You should change your number. Are you okay?’
    His concern for her was almost tangible, and his low, undeniably masculine voice instantly took her rising anxiety down a notch. She all but collapsed into her chair, phone still at her ear.
    â€˜I am now. It’s so good to hear from you,’ she said, emotion making her truthful.
    â€˜I’m glad,’ he said, genuine warmth in his voice. ‘I wanted to invite you over, if you can get away. For dinner. That’s if you feel up to it.’
    Lucy tried to suppress the fluttering pleasure that fizzed in her gut in spite of her attempts to dampen it. Taking her hesitation for apprehension, Matt added, ‘Just dinner; no strings. A bag of chips if you want. Or the pie and potatoes we talked about.’
    Lucy laughed, surprising herself with the sound. It sounded light, carefree, as if she hadn’t had the day – the week – from hell.
    â€˜I’d love to. I’ll have to be back for Ricky, but I’d love to.’
    As Matt gave her his address and she quickly changed and retouched her make-up, Lucy wondered at the effect Matt was having on her. Not for the first time she wished they had met under different circumstances. That things were just different.
    Before she left, she turned off her answering machine, worried that Ricky would come home to a cranky psychic claiming to have contacted Jack. It had been years now since Ricky had mentioned ‘seeing’ Jack, and she was praying that this week’s events wouldn’t start it all up again.
    In spite of his assurances to Lucy that this would be only a casual meal Matt couldn’t resist the chance to show off his culinary skills, even if they did only extend to the one dish: that great British favourite, chicken tikka masala. He made it more or less from scratch and, he reflected as he took a taste from the spoon, it tasted just as good as anything a restaurant would serve.
    The truth was, he was nervous. He had no desire to push Lucy into anything she wasn’t ready for, especially given her current situation, yet some instinct was telling him to hang in there. That she might need him. There was something about Lucy that awakened his natural protective streak, even as he also had the urge to slowly peel the clothes from her body and then proceed to fuck her senseless. The contrast was disconcerting, to say the least.
    His buzzer sounded just as he placed a packet of rice into his state-of-the-art microwave – his culinary skills extending to the masala sauce itself and no further – and Matt took a deep breath before opening the door.
    â€˜Hey.’
    â€˜Hey yourself.’ Matt opened the door for her, admiring her slender figure in a fitted woollen dress, although he thought she looked as though she had lost a little weight even in the two days since he had last seen her.
    Matt took her coat and after a moment’s hesitation leaned down to kiss her cheek, letting his lips brush lightly over her skin, almost teasingly. He didn't think it was his imagination that she held her breath as he did so.
    Lucy wanted him, he was sure of it, yet the need to tread carefully with her also made his own desire for her feel all the more urgent. Taking another deep breath and letting it out slowly he turned and hung up her