Page 71 of Ruined By Protection
For one heart-stopping moment she hesitates, her body rigid. I'm about to pull back when she suddenly melts against me with a soft sound that travels straight to my core. Her hands come up to grip my shoulders, fingers digging into each bicep as though dropping an anchor.
I kiss her slowly, deliberately, relearning the shape of her mouth. She tastes of tears and a uniquely Hazel flavor that I've never forgotten. My hand cups her face.
She pulls back slightly, her breathing uneven. "Matteo," she whispers, my name a question on her lips.
"I remembered everything," I confess, resting my forehead against hers. "The way you laughed when I showed you that Harley. How you looked proudly perched on that kitchen table. The note you left."
Her eyes pop wide. "Then why did you pretend?—"
"Because I needed to know why you were here," I tell her honestly. "If it was really just coincidence or if you were using Evelyn to get to me. To the family."
"You thought I was some kind of spy?" she asks, disbelief coloring her voice.
"In my world coincidence usually ends with someone dead," I say. "And you..." I trace the line of her lip with my finger. "You were the one woman I couldn't get out of my head despite three years of trying."
CHAPTER 22
Hazel
"Ineed to rest," I whisper, suddenly aware of how bone-deep tired I am. The panic attack at the store, the fear at the gallery, and now laying my soul bare about Elliott—it's all caught up with me. "I'm exhausted."
I push myself up from the floor, my legs shaky. Matteo rises in one fluid motion, towering over me. His eyes search mine, concern etched across his features.
"Do you want me to stay?" he asks, his voice low and careful. "Or would you rather be alone?"
The thought of being alone in this room makes my lungs knot. After spilling everything about Elliott the shadows seem even darker, more threatening.
"Stay," I say. "Please."
Without thinking I step forward and wrap my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek against his chest. His heartbeat thunders there, strong and steady. His arms come around me, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other spread across my lower back.
I melt into him, drawing strength from his solid warmth. This is different from Elliott's embrace, which always felt like being caged. Matteo holds me like I'm something precious but not fragile.
Then I feel it—the unmistakable hardness pressing against my hip. I pull back slightly, my eyes dropping down before I can stop myself. The evidence of his arousal is impossible to miss.
Heat floods my cheeks as I take a step back.
"Sorry," he says, his voice rough. "That's not something I can control right now."
The honesty he emits launches fluttering in my stomach.
"You could sit in the armchair," I suggest, gesturing to the plush chair by the window.
He shakes his head and moves to the side of the bed, lowering himself to the floor once more. He leans his back against the mattress, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
"I'm good here," he says simply.
I grab PJs from the dresser and retreat to the bathroom. I splash cold water on my face and take several deep breaths.
I change quickly into cotton shorts and a soft t-shirt borrowed from Lucrezia. When I emerge Matteo is still sitting on the floor, scrolling through his phone. He glances up and his eyes narrow as they sweep over my bare legs.
I clear my throat. "I'm going to lie down now."
A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "You seem nervous, bella. I can leave if I'm making you uncomfortable."
"No," I say too quickly. "I—I need the company. I don't think I could sleep otherwise."
The smirk softens into gentle acceptance. He nods once and returns his attention to his phone, giving me space.
