Page 52 of Ice To Meet You

I blinked. Should I mention our after-dark rendezvous inthe gallery last week? Or how about right now as the air crackled around us? I straightened. "I’ve done crazy things before."

"Like what?" His tone was casual, but there was an edge that made my stomach flip.

"Um …" I wracked my brain. Did spilling coffee on one of Luc’s paintings count? My heart had certainly raced as he’d paced around the gallery, ranting like a diva. "I’ve … well …"

"What have you done, Esmé? Tell me.” His voice was gentle, coaxing, bordering flirtatious. "Have you ever jumped out of a plane?"

My stomach churned at the mere thought. "You know enough about me to understand that would be a hard ‘no.’”

He shrugged. "Okay. Gone diving with sharks?"

"Absolutely not."

"Climbed a rock face without a rope or harness?"

“Again,” I said, waving a hand around me. “Heights. And I don’t know many people who’d be so stupid.”

Matteo’s smile implied he’d done all those things and more.

I pulled my brows together. With that smirk, was he suggesting I was dull? “Well,” I said, a little sharper than intended, "Clearly, you’re the one living life to the fullest. I’m happy with my feet firmly on the ground, thank you."

He took a sip of his drink, rolling the liquid around in his glass. "Wouldn’t you like to try? Feel a little out of control?" he countered softly. "You might surprise yourself."

I gave my head a tiny shake. "What exactly are you proposing?"

His eyes sparked with mischief. "There’s a zip line in the forest just outside the city. Come with me next weekend. Treat it as a warm-up for rock climbing."

My throat dried. "I said no rock climbing."

He gave a throaty laugh. "I know, I’m joking. No rock climbing.But you’ll be perfectly safe on the zip line with me." He leaned back, tipping his head against the cushions.

The olive skin at his neck glowed in the light of the side lamp, and I wet my bottom lip.

"Unless, of course, you’re afraid to loosen up," he whispered.

I tightened my eyes. Loosen up? Afraid? He had no idea. But there was something about the way he looked at me—as if I was already halfway to saying yes—that made my pulse quicken.

“How many times do I have to remind you I’m afraid of heights?”

“I know,” he said, leaning closer again.

He lightly grazed the back of his fingers across my forearm, sending shivers to every corner of my body. “But we can’t always live guarding ourselves against the things that could hurt or frighten us.”

He was so close; the air pulsed between us. His words were intense and loaded with challenge; did I dare accept?

“I’ll be there with you, and you really do owe me a favour. Two, actually. One, for the pasta rescue and two, for distracting Marianne.”

I clamped my jaw. He had a point. Without him, I’d have fed potential investors store bought sauce in a jar, and who knows how old pasta spirals. I met Matteo’s eyes. His long, thick lashes framed their cheeky glow, brimming with temptation.

“Okay.” The word came out of my mouth before I realised.

He smiled gently. “You will?”

I sighed, brushing the velvet arm of my couch the wrong way. “Yes, though I can’t believe I’m agreeing. I have so much work to do next week.”

His dimples reappeared. “Well, it’s too late to pull out now. You’d break my heart.”

Something in his voice—the way his tongue brushed over his bottom lip—tugged at my heart. He looked vulnerable, sodifferent from the confident man I’d come to know. But who was I kidding? In the real world, Matteo would breakmyheart.

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