Page 144 of Ruined Vows
The photo was never released publicly, but Matteo saw it.
“He dug through the rubble himself,” he says. “With his bare hands.”
I can’t breathe. The depths of this man’s love are overwhelming.
Matteo stands and comes around the desk, sitting on the edge near me. “I’ve done business with a lot of men like Vukan. Men who are cold and cruel.”
“But not him,” I say.
“No,” Matteo agrees. “Not him. His brother, yes.”
He touches my shoulder. “You’re the only person I’ve seen get under his skin without drawing blood. However, it appears that he let you in. You know how precious you are to him. He won’t do that lightly.”
I give him an appreciative nod.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“I will be. I’m shocked he was married.” Shocked, yes, but it’s jealousy. Plain and simple. He loved another woman.
As if my brother knows what I’m thinking, he says, “He was young, but in countries that have seen war like that, you grab whatever happiness you can find.”
I let his words sink in momentarily, and then he continues.
“He kept his word to us. He never wanted his brother to traffic women. I never thought I’d say this, but he’s a good man.”
“He’s got game, I’ll give him that.”
Matteo gives me a long, considering look. One that says he's not done meddling anytime soon.
“So,” he says, drawing the word out like he's got all day. “You two getting married, or what?”
I snort. “You’re getting way ahead of yourself.”
He shrugs, all smug big-brother energy. "You’re doing the ten dates thing. How’s that going?"
I sit back in my chair, crossing my arms. “Maybe I’m keeping score. Maybe I’m already winning.”
He grins. “Oh, it's a competition now?”
“Everything's a competition,” I say sweetly. “Especiallywith a man like Vukan. You blink and he’s three moves ahead.”
“That sounds exhausting,” Matteo says, mock-serious.
“It’s invigorating,” I shoot back. “He keeps me sharp. And I love keeping him humble.”
Matteo laughs, shaking his head. “And here I thought he was the dangerous one.”
“He is,” I agree easily. “But so am I.”
He studies me for a moment longer, something warm and proud flickering behind his eyes. “You love him.”
It’s not a question.
I shrug, aiming for casual, but my voice betrays me. “Maybe I feel something.”
“Really?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t make it weird, Matteo.”
