Page 65 of My Italian Love Affair

I let out a sharp, incredulous laugh.

"Noproblem?" I gesture wildly. "That might have officially been the worst interview I haveeverconducted. And I’ve interviewed players who barely speak English!"

"Well, Ididanswer all your questions."

"With absolutelyzeroeffort!"

"Maybe you just need to ask better questions."

I gape at him.

"You’re getting worked up again," he comments.

"Because you’re acting like a child."

"I think it’s because of that crush."

My brows shoot up.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he says, his accent deliciously thick. "Don’t worry about it. It’s perfectly natural to feel this way towards me. I don’t mind it. Actually, it’s…cute."

I stare at him, utterly floored by his audacity.

"I- you think I -" I let out a disbelieving laugh. "Oh, youwish, Rossi."

"Hmm." He raises a brow, clearly amused. "I think you’re protesting alittletoo much."

I clench my jaw.

"I am aprofessionaljournalist."

"Uh-huh."

"I take my jobseriously."

"Sure you do."

"And I donot-" I jab a finger towards him for emphasis, "not- have a crush on you."

Matteo just watches me, clearly enjoying every second of my fury.

He grins lazily.

"Whatever you say,Daphne."

Oh, I could actuallykillhim.

“You know what - why don’t you tell me how youreallyfeel,Rossi.Is this what you think - that a female journalist can’t interview you without falling head over heels?”

"What can I say? A lot of people find me irresistible,” Matteo shrugs. “You aren’t the first journalist to get a little flustered around me."

My entire body is stiff with indignation.

"Flustered?"

"Yeah," he says, smug as ever. "You get all pink when you're mad. It’s adorable."

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