Page 125 of Phantom Mine

A testy rumble rolls through his chest. “So this is just about wounded pride? Nothing else?”

“That’s correct.”

His mouth finds the side of my face, his lips coming up to rasp against my ear, “You’re so full of shit.”

Surprise stiffens my whole body. hewantme to be jealous of her? I shove him off me.

“Get out,” I snap, walking away.

The coldness of my tone surprises even me.

Matteo yanks me backwards by the back of my neck. “We’re not done talking,” he hisses. He locks his arms around me and traps me against his chest.

“We are done talking and we aredone,” I rage, the words clawing past the hurt blocking my throat. I struggle against him, thrashing in his hold, but he doesn’t budge. “Let me go.”

I feel his breathing go dangerously ragged against the side of my face. “No.”

“Let me fuckinggo, Mat—”

“I didn’t touch her!” The angry words erupt from deep within his chest.

I still. “What?”

“I didn’t touch her. I couldn’t bring myself to even fuckingmeether, Leni.” He rips in an angry breath. “I had a meeting but I called it off, made up some excuse.” His chest rises and falls almost violently against my back. “It’s causing a massive shitstorm I have to fix, but I couldn’t meet her yet, not while you still inhabit every one of my dreams.”

This time, when I push against his arms, he lets me go. Slowly, taking my time to gather strength I know I’m going to need, I turn towards him.

His dark, sticky gaze is already glued to my face.

“If you didn’t want me to see her, if you missed me,” he murmurs. “You should have texted me.”

“I don’t own you,” I say flatly.

He blinks at me, a look of almost boyish confusion on his face. “Says who?”

His words are heavy with barely suppressed emotion. A girl could really believe he actually means them if she isn’t careful.

I shake my head. “Says your fiancée.”

Matteo closes the distance between us, his expression turning softer.

“You know why I’m still in London.” His hands find and claim my waist like I’m his possession, fingers digging desperately into my skin. “For you.”

“Fiancée.”

“She’s not my—”

I look away. “Fiancée.”

Gently, he turns my cheek back towards him. His eyes seek mine, a quiet urgency lingering in them.

“You’re all I think about,” he confesses softly.

A choked sound crawls up my throat. “Don’t lie.”

He crowds me, his chest bumping against me, his face looming above mine. “I wish I was. All I think about is you. Constantly. Endlessly. Fucking,obsessively. How you looked laying in my bed when I left you, how badly I want you to make somearepasfor me, how our limited time together is being robbed from us because of my father’s kidnapping.” His eyes squeeze shut and he drops his forehead to mine with a sigh. “I’ve beenwaking up in the middle of the night, every night, reaching for you.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

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