Page 77 of Seeking Vengeance

By the time I dried, dressed, then redid my makeup, it was after eight.

He held my hand as we walked into the rooftop restaurant, letting everyone know I was his and he was mine. The waitstaff greeted him by name, with smiles and enthusiasm, before escorting us to a table in the corner with an unfettered view of the Washington Monument alight in the clear night sky. And the whole time, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

“Is that happiness ebbing from you,amore mio?” He eyes me with contentment across the table. “You seem in good spirits.”

I sip my wine, willing my rampant heartbeat under control. “I am, despite being locked in your penthouse all day.”

He frowns. “Why? Didn’t Bishop tell you about the spare key?”

To hell with Bishop.

“No.” I return my gaze out the window. “That must have slipped his mind.”

That asshole deliberately kept me caged. He wanted to have the last word, and it came in the form of my isolation.

I continue to feel Matthew’s stare from my periphery, the slight gleam of white announcing a building grin.

“What?” I ask. “Do you like knowing I was trapped in your penthouse like a damsel in distress?”

“No, but I’m beginning to understand why you were so excited to see me when I returned home.” The grin lessens, the subtle lift falling flat. “Bishop told me the two of you had an intense conversation this afternoon.”

“Intense is one word for it.”

His brows knit with curiosity. “How would you describe it?”

An ambush.

An assault.

I shrug. “I guess intense is accurate enough. I’m surprised he told you, though.”

“It’s the bonus that comes from working with someone who always thinks they’re right. They never have anything to hide.” He relaxes into his chair. “But just to be clear, I didn’t appreciate what he said.”

I take another sip of wine, biting back how much I didn’t appreciate it either.

“Why didn’t you call me to tell me what he’d done?” he asks. “Or tell me once I got home?”

“For the exact reason I argued with him in the first place. I’m not here to cause trouble.”

“Bishop being a prick isn’t you causing trouble.”

I hold his gaze, wanting him to understand my sincerity as I say, “He’s one of the few people you have in your life, so even if he’s an absolute asshole—which he most definitely is—” I smirk. “—I’m not going to bring that up with you. I can understand him being protective.”

Matthew raises a brow and inclines his head, his mouth set in an understated smile as he falls silent.

It’s unnerving. The way he admires me with quiet fascination. It’s energizing, too.

“What?” My cheeks heat the longer he looks at me.

“I’m just adding more attributes to the list of what I find entirely endearing about you.” His voice is a murmur of underlying seduction. “Along with picturing how many times, and in what positions, I can have you once we finish dinner.”

My cheeks flame hotter, the inferno creeping down my neck.

I’ve been picturing that, too.

I can’t stop.

His touch haunts my skin, the possessive grip of desire keeping me chained to memory. Problem is, it’s also distracting me from the other important motivation for flying across the country.

---