Page 66 of Ice To Meet You

His eyes lit. “You had fun?”

“I did. And …” I threw him a little smile. “I think I’ll be able to use the ladder at work unsupervised now. But as much as I enjoy hanging around in trees looking like a drowned rat, there’s a bottle of wine in my apartment with my name on it.” I bit at my lip, tethering my racing heart. “And if you’d like, yours too.”

Matteo stared at me for the longest beat, raindrops dropping from his eyelashes. Finally, he smiled, rubbing a hand down my back. “Come on. Let me take you home.”

22

MATTEO

Iglanced across the car and smiled. Esmé sat in the passenger seat, the vanity mirror pulled down, playing with her hair. Even a solid dowsing by the early spring storm hadn’t stopped her perfume from filling the space around us.

A memory of her shivering in my arms, her body pressed against mine, surged into my mind and I pushed my foot on the accelerator a little harder than necessary.

Esmé didn’t seem to notice, though. She leaned into the mirror, a lopsided smile on her face. “My hair looks like cotton candy.”

To me, her hair looked as beautiful as ever—thick and shiny, and everything I wanted to tangle my fingers through; to feel spread over my skin as she lay on my chest.

She was absolutely freezing when we finally got off the zipline. A staff member gave us some old towels and lent her a set of coveralls. They were way too big and a little stained, but sitting here in my car, the glow of the Paris streetlights on her face, I couldn’t think of anything more beautiful.

She’d been terrified at first, today, but when she’d conquered her fear, the joy on her face made my chest burstwith pride. I’d only ever caught fleeting glimpses of her happiness at the gallery—a quiet giggle at something she’d read, a soft smile when something amused her, or the warmth in her eyes when she spoke to Claudette. But she’d never been this open, this unguarded, this free.

And then she hugged me. When we came off the zipline in the pouring rain, she’d thrown her arms around me. At the time, I’d thought her actions were from relief. But then, she’d clung onto me far longer than gratitude dictated.

Her hands had moved across my back, and she’d rested her head on my chest. It was all I could do to not lean down and kiss her—kiss away the rain; make her want me the way I wanted her.

She leaned back in her seat, the leather protesting with a faint squeak against her coveralls. “So,MattitudeX, what’s next on your hit list? What’s next to conquer?”

Her cheeky grin made my lips curve. I didn’t doubt she’d torture me with that name from now till kingdom come. But whatwasnext on my hit list? How about conquering her? Making her sigh my name in the dark as she lay in my arms, begging for more?

When I didn’t answer, she twisted to face me. “How about base jumping from the Eiffel Tower? I’m free next Wednesday. We could try some parkour at the Louvre. Maybe some free diving in the Seine?”

Her eyes glowed. I didn’t care what we did, as long as we did it together. I glanced at her again, her lips soft and shiny in the oncoming headlights. Being so close to Esmé and not being able to tell her how I felt was driving me insane.

She was the first thing I thought about when I woke up. The last thing I imagined as I lay in bed at night.

Antonio had all but given up on me. He even asked if I’d abandoned him and our business to follow in my grandfather’s footsteps. He couldn’t understand what kept me in Paris.

“I’m open to suggestions,” I said. “But I promise, this time, I’ll make sure our adventures are ground-based. No more heights for a while.”

She smiled at me, checking her watch in the car's gloom. “Damn, it’s late. I hope Claudette is okay. She refused to come in for breakfast this morning.”

I sent her a wink. “Maybe she decided to climb a few trees like us today, out in the square.” I paused, running my fingers through my hair. “You know, I could sign her up as my little sidekick. She’d be great for views. I could get a little outfit made for her. Maybe a cape.”

“Don’t you dare. My cat is very anti-adrenaline. She’s happiest curling up with a bowl of milk at the end of the day.”

I chuckled. “Just like her mum—only with wine instead.”

Esmé smiled, then fell silent. She looked out the window and ran her fingers over the rain-blotched glass. Finally, she spoke. “Can I ask you something? Do you ever get propositioned?”

I drew my brows together. “What do you mean?”

“I saw the way those girls on the path went all goo-goo eyed over you. The way the staff couldn’t do enough for you. The attention you got. Is being an extreme sports legend good for your love life?”

The hair lifted on the back of my neck. Why was she asking? I could lie and tell her I was a monk, or I could be honest and tell her I got a lot of offers, a lot of attention from women, but that I turned most down. Casual sex had never been something I wanted. Instead of being honest, I went for my usual fall-back—humour.

“I'm hardly a legend. Why? Are you looking to proposition me?”

She huffed a laugh. “How would that sit with your grandfather?”

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