Page 12 of Doll Face

“Only a person who has money can say that.”

A ghost of a smile played on his lips. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. “Would you please let me take you to my personal physician? He tries to do pro bono work whenever he can.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t want your money or your charity, Matteo. I don’t care how rich you are, I always pay my way.”

“Noted,” he said, sounding amused. “But this is not charity. That’s not how I think of you. I’m concerned, and since I can’t find the asshole who did this to you, I can at least calm my inner demon by making sure you have proper medical care.”

“What can I possibly say to that so it doesn’t make me sound ungrateful?”

“Nothing,” he replied, smirking. “How about I promise my wallet stays in my pocket. We have a deal?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Then I guess it’s a deal,” she said grudgingly. Her boss came back at that moment, holding out the purse and Macy took it. “Thank you.”

Once more, Amanda flashed a guarded look at Matteo, and it confused her. Making a mental note to ask why when she had a chance. As the bell above the door dinged, Matteo took hold of her hand and led Macy from the shop. Her eyes widened when she saw a tall, muscled man open the back door to a beautiful sleek sedan, which she knew instinctively had to cost more than the gross national income of some third-world countries.

“Macy, this is Rocco,” Matteo said, introducing her.

Rocco whistled when he caught sight of her. “That looks like it hurts.”

“No shit, Captain Obvious,” Matteo muttered. “We’re going to the doc.”

Rocco raised a brow, clearly surprised. Was it because he didn’t think her worthy of seeing Matteo’s private doctor? He settled his questioning gaze on her, and a flash of sympathy entered his gaze. Macy wondered what the look was all about.

Matteo helped her inside before sliding in next to her, while Rocco got behind the wheel. Then they were off, to where Macy hadn’t a clue. Had she just made a massive mistake? Was her boss leery because Matteo was a serial killer or something? Then again, how would Amanda know if he was one or not? Her own thoughts confused her.

“So, Macy,” Rocco said, breaking through her nervous thoughts. “Tell us a little about yourself.”

She glanced at Matteo who cocked his head, waiting. “Maybe I should be asking you that.”

“Sure,” Rocco said good naturedly, ignoring the fact she didn’t ask him. “I’m twenty-eight. A Virgo, but not a virgin. Born here in Chicago. I totally believe in UFOs. And my favorite movie is The Notebook.”

“The Notebook? Really?” Matteo demanded sarcastically. “Who are you?”

“It’s manly to cry.”

“I’m manly and I don’t cry.”

“I remember you crying once,” Rocco said.

“When?” Matteo asked, scrunching up his forehead.

“When Puppers died.”

“Oh, my God,” Matteo muttered. “I was six.”

“Hey, don’t hate the messenger. Tears are tears.”

Matteo sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Macy couldn’t help herself. She giggled at their bickering.

“Come on, Macy, back me up,” Rocco urged. “The Notebook is classic.”

“Sorry, I’m more of a Marvel girl,” she admitted.

He gasped and clutched the material by his heart. “Traitor!”

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