Page 113 of The One
We don’t speak, and we don’t move. We just stare into each other’s eyes.
I need more oxygen. Am I breathing? That smile that always melts me finds its way back onto Mateo’s face.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him pull a handkerchief from his suit pocket. With slow, deliberate care, he wipes away the red lipstick Sofia so meticulously applied. Then, he lowers his head and presses his lips to mine.
My heart jumps for joy at being like this with him again.
He pushes me backward until the wall is at my back, caging me in with his body. He devours my mouth, and we lose ourselves in each other until a throat clearing, sounding suspiciously like Romeo’s, interrupts us.
I’m dazed, unable to think straight, and not caring the slightest who might have witnessed our display.
Mateo nuzzles his nose against mine before dropping his gaze to my lips.
“Much better,” he says hoarsely. “I prefer your lips like this. Red from my kisses.”
He tilts my head back, his brown eyes bouncing between mine. A swarm of butterflies wreaks havoc in my stomach.
“Sofia did this makeup. It was an experiment,” I offer as an explanation for my appearance. “But I don’t like it. I was about to wash it off.”
“Good,” he says, leaning in closer and brushing another soft kiss against my lips. His gaze drops to my face, warm and intent.
“You don’t need any of this,” he gestures lightly toward my makeup, “You’re stunning the way you are.”
Heat rises into my cheeks at his compliment.
He frowns, but chuckles.
“See? I bet you’re blushing right now, but I can’t even tell. I don’t like it. I want to seeyou. That’s who I want to take out.”
His eyes sparkle, brimming with so much affection that I want to freeze this moment forever.
What a relief!
His words wash away the nervous tension coiled in my chest. Mateo thinks I’m stunning as I am!
He rests his forehead against mine, his breath warm and steady.
“I’ll see you in an hour,dolce mia. I can’t wait to spend more time with you.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Mateo
Ipace by the front door, my steps restless, my gaze flicking toward the staircase every few seconds.
Romeo lounges in the corner chair, arms folded, watching me with that infuriatingly amused smirk he’s had ever since he caught me kissing Mari on the stairs earlier. I haven’t heard the end of it.
At least, not until a minute ago when I snapped and told him the truth.
“Mariella is yourone?” Romeo drawls, even adding air quotes for effect. He’s never been one to buy into the concept.
I nod firmly as I pass him. “She is.”
I found her. I found my One.
That sentence has been on an endless loop in my head since I hung up with Tiero. It makes me want to skip down the corridor, dance in the rain, or do something equally silly.
It plays alongside the moment I truly looked into Mariella’s eyes for the first time after her father’s attack. The memory is so vivid, it’s like a technicolor masterpiece permanently etched into my soul.
