I walk to him and place my palm flat on his chest, right where his beating heart is. It's odd because I do think he's truly dead inside, and yet his heart thuds away. Holding my hand there and looking deep into his eyes, I give him my truth.

“Matteo, at first it was a game. I wanted to exact my revenge because I felt humiliated by you. You were the one who got away. Yes, I know that you're angry because of what happened with Duncan, but it meant nothing. It was dreadful. He was terrible in bed. I only had sex with him to get back at you because I felt so ashamed as I’d been tossed away by you for a measly DeLuca girl So yeah, you're right. I was there for that reason at first. Then I felt that old pull that I always had around you. I wish I hadn’t. I can't quite believe I'm laying my heart on the line like this because this is not like me. I'm just bored of it all. The games. The lies. No one's real in this world.”

“See, that's where you're wrong,” he says. He places his hand over mine, warm and sure. “Yes, it started as a game for me too. I thought it would be fun to fuck with your family, but to be honest, I wanted you. I wanted revenge for your betrayal, and I wanted to make you hurt. I also want to make you stay and make you mine.”

“You do realize that they're two opposing goals, right?”

“I never said I was well adjusted,” he replies. “The thing is, Renata, I wanted revenge because you hurt me. That's not an easy thing for a man like me to say. But if I'm being honest, the way you have, there was always more to it than revenge on your family. I couldn't admit it to myself, but I have now. I want you. Not the games, or the lies, and certainly not the cheating. I just want you.”

I let out a pained laugh. “So how is this supposed to work? Our families would go insane for a start. You don't know me—you might hate me within a week. I mean, once this security threat has died down, what then? I go back to my apartment, and we date and hope our families give us their blessings?”

“They’d never let us date,” he says. “At least mine wouldn’t. Yours seem kind of on board, if I’m being honest.”

“See. It's doomed before it can begin if your family won’t let us be together. My parents might be on board, but my brother won’t, and he’s the one with the firepower. He’d never let us date either.”

“They'd never let us date, but if we were already married, they couldn't do a damn thing about it.”

I try to yank my hand free in shock, but he doesn't let go.

“We can't get married.”

“We most certainly can. I want you in my life, Renata. Every single night. I want to get up in the morning, walk down the stairs and find you in the kitchen, that delicious ass facing me as you make breakfast. I’ll sneak up behind you, move your hair, kiss your neck and taste you. I want to come back from a bad day at the office, which will probably mean I'd be covered in blood, and take a shower and have you join me. I want you here. The photographs that I have of you, I look at them every day. Sometimes I can spend hours in this room just looking at your face. I know every single tiny millimetre of it.”

He sighs. “When I go to bed at night and close my eyes, it's you that I see.”

I don't know what to say. I'm not sure if his words make me feel better or worse. They’re frankly terrifying.

“I'll probably drive you mad in a week.” I give a weak laugh.

“You've been driving me mad for years, so what's new?”

I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

“How did you pick the lock?”

I snort. “I used a paper clip, of course. A hairpin will do too. It's all about the jiggle.” I can't resist the wink I throw him.

It’s a dangerous thing that wink. The match to the gas doused pile of rubble that is us.

Matteo growls low in his throat, all animalistic, and reaches for me, pulling me in. He winds his hand in my hair and tugs almost painfully, and then his mouth crashes down on mine.

He kisses me, and it's like everything I've ever needed. The taste of him, the scent of him, and the sounds he makes as he plunders my mouth. His tongue is learning every corner, taking me over, dominating me and filling me.

I cling on to him because it's all I can do. This is a full-on onslaught. This isn't a kiss—it's an invasion.

He spins us around so that my back is to the desk now, and he lifts me up and places me on it, pushing me flat onto my back. He slides his hands under my dress, moving the silky material up, up, always up. He pulls my panties down and dips two fingers into my folds.

“I said you were a liar,” he says.

“What do you mean?”

“In the car, when you said you didn't want me.”

“My body always wants you, Matteo. It's my mind that thinks it's a bad idea.”

“It's a glorious idea. You and me, always was.” He circles my clit, slowly, torturously building the need in me. He pulls my dress down until my breasts are exposed, and he leans forward, bending his head to suck a nipple into his mouth. He bites at it gently and then sucks again, flicking his tongue over it and making me gasp.

I'm dying for his fingers inside me, so I push against him ask him for what I need. He grabs something to the right of him and holds it up. I see the metal reflecting in the light. It’s a letter opener. Is he going to stab me?