Page 94 of Ache for You (Slow Burn 3)
Watching me steel myself for his kiss, Matteo smiles again. “Let’s go inside. I haven’t eaten yet.”
“I haven’t, either, but this isn’t a dinner date.”
He steps closer so I feel the warmth of his body and smell his skin. In a low voice, he says, “What is it, then?”
“A business deal.”
As far as my hormones are concerned, it’s more like foreplay, but I have to find a way to get through the next twenty-something kisses with my dignity intact, so I’m going with nonchalance.
“You want to conduct business in the driveway?” He glances meaningfully at the front windows of the house that are spilling golden light onto the gravel where we’re standing.
I form an uncomfortable mental image of his mother watching in horror as we kiss, and decide he’s right. “We can’t do it inside, either.”
He understands without me having to explain and suggests an alternative. “The garden.”
I picture us sharing a passionate kiss under the moonlight beside the fountain of Aphrodite, picture Matteo pushing me down onto the grass and pushing himself between my naked thighs, and my nipples harden. Between my legs, there’s a hollow ache, howling to be filled.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
“It’s only a kiss,” murmurs Matteo, watching my face heat. “Two minutes. I’ll time it again so you’ll be safe.”
I have an awful feeling I’ll never be safe from him, but I swallow my fear and nod, then turn and head toward the garden without looking back.
I don’t have to look to feel him following. I’m as aware of his presence as I am of my own crashing pulse. All the years I was with Brad, all the times he kissed me, I never felt this kind of anticipation. Or is it dread?
It’s probably both. I want him but I hate myself for it, for letting him get under my skin.
For all the ways he can unravel me with nothing more than a look.
Moonlight filters through the boughs of the trees as I wind my way down the stone path through the garden that leads to the fountain. The crickets are out in full force, chirping away in cheerful oblivion as we pass. The air is warm but my skin is warmer. I’m all flushed and out of breath.
I stop abruptly and turn to him, convinced this bargain we’ve struck is a huge mistake.
My heart is already broken. I’d be a fool all over again to expect Matteo will do anything but shatter it for good.
“I can’t do this,” I say, looking at his shoes. They’re leather, black, gleaming, and infinitely less dangerous than his eyes. I watch his feet approach, until his shoes and mine are touching at the tips.
He sets his briefcase on the ground, then slides my handbag off my shoulder and sets that down, too. Then he puts his thumb under my chin and tilts up my head.
He’s quiet for a moment, examining my face, thoughtfully stroking his finger along the curve of my jaw. I stand trembling, wishing I were anywhere but here, wishing I were the kind of woman my father thought I was, strong and brave and capable.
But I’m not. I don’t think I ever was, or ever will be. I’m just a girl who sees stars every time a handsome man pays her attention, and if that’s not pathetic I don’t know what is.
Matteo says softly, “Is it me you don’t trust or yourself?”
I swallow and close my eyes, gutted by how easily he reads me. Three years with Brad and I’d have to chisel my feelings on a stone tablet for him to get a clue what I was thinking, but Matteo somehow correctly interprets every nuance of my expression.
I suppose it’s because he’s always looking so closely.
“Both,” I admit, miserable.
Big warm hands wrap around my jaw. “Thank you for being honest,” he whispers, and lightly touches his mouth to mine.
Electricity jolts through me, as if I’ve been plugged into a socket. I suck in a startled breath. My eyes fly open, and I stare up at him in a panic.
“Don’t run away.”
I groan. “That you knew I was about to makes it even harder to stay put!”
