Page 18 of Ice To Meet You

His eyes widened, and he straightened. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help?—”

“I want you to work with Lola on the exhibition.”

He shook his head as if I’d spoken to him in another language. “What? Why?”

Did he really need an explanation? I’d just told him what terrified me. All that could go wrong and then seconds later, he’d practically held my hand. “You can’t touch me like that. If anyone saw us, they’d get the wrong idea.”

His forehead creased and his bottom lip stuck out like a chastised child.

“I was trying to make you feel better.”

I huffed a breath. “And how would I explain that my new investor’s grandson was trying to make me feel better? They’d think I was just sweetening the deal. Buying Gio’s investment by cozying up to his grandson.”

He slowly shook his head. “But he saidyou’rethe one who can teach me what I need to learn. He said no one else can do what you do.”

I stepped back. He suddenly felt very young to me, and mychest tugged at the downturn in his mouth. Couldn’t he see my point? “Matteo. Are you here to work for me?”

“Yes.”

“So, I’m in charge. I give the orders.”

He bit the side of his lip. “Fair enough, but what if I want to work withyou,not Lola?” He stepped toward me, closing the space between us. “What if she can’t teach me everything I need to know?”

At the intense look in his eyes and the subtle shift in his posture, something inside me wavered. His nearness and the weight of his gaze pulled at me like a magnet.

My pulse quickened, a soft ache blooming in my chest. I should say no. I should walk away, stay focused, and keep my boundaries intact. But the air between us thickened, and for a split second, I felt my grip on control slipping away.

“Matteo, please …”

Somebody cleared their throat behind us, and we both spun our heads. Lola stood in the doorway, her hair shining in the thin morning light streaming through the window. I hadn’t even noticed the bell over the door chime.

“Who, and what am I teaching?” she asked, her gaze bouncing between us.

“Matteo,” I said, my voice as expressionless as a robot. “Matteo will work under you for the Du Comtois exhibition.”

Lola cocked her head to one side. “Interesting.”

Matteo kept his eyes on me the whole time, even as he picked up his coat. They were wide and solemn. But I wouldn’t grant him a reprieve. Wouldn’t back down.

“Well, we best get started,” Lola said, turning towards her desk at the back of the gallery. “We have a lot to cover. I hope you don’t mind a strong woman. I warn you; I can be brutal.” She screwed her nose up with a grin. She looked like an evil fairy—cute, but deadly.

Without a word, Matteo trailed her through the displayplinths, and my gut twisted. He looked so dejected. I turned to Claudette. She’d been sitting on the edge of my desk watching everything.

“What are you looking at? I did the right thing.” She glared at me with her large green eyes, as if perfectly understanding my words. I reached out to tickle her, but when I got close, she jumped off the desk and ran to the door, yowling to be let out.

Wonderful. I’d not only upset the man I couldn’t shake from my thoughts, but now my petulant cat, too.

I undid my claw clip and ran my fingers through my hair. My body’s reaction to Matteo had been crazy. I brought my hand to my lips, as if I could taste the memory of his touch. But with a shake of my head, I forced it back into my pocket.

Things would settle down, and until then, I had to keep on script. On plan. Matteo was young, impetuous, and off limits in every single way.

But at the prickle of my skin, one reality was very clear—he had a way of throwing my carefully constructed world off balance. And I hated how much I liked it.

7

MATTEO

The morning passed in a blur. True to Esmé’s request, Lola gave me a thorough—borderline brutal—induction. Her voice echoed through the gallery, laced with giggles and, if I wasn’t mistaken, a hint of flirtation.

---