Page 9 of Forbidden Lord
He put his glass down and nodded. “No more women then. I’m okay with that--I never wanted a son or daughter of mine to know… how I was brought up.”
Well, that was good. While she didn’t know his father, she’d heard how he’d flirted with every woman he’d ever met. She put her glass down and took his hand. “Matteo, I said yes—but not because I’m secretly in love with you or anything, except for the slight crush all the girls had in boarding school.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he squeezed her palm. “I didn’t think you were.”
Due to his previous kiss, she scooted closer to him with hesitation—she wasn’t ready for these new sensations. “I said yes because I know there is kindness in you.”
Matteo’s face froze like she’d caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to. “How?”
The dance. Or, chemistry class in boarding school when his “friends” had dropped liquid on her shoes, ruining them, and laughing at her for not being “rich” enough to replace them. Matteo had never once laughed. He’d wiped her shoe with a damp towel. The memory was so vivid. She just smiled as she said, “In school you were the nicest of the boys.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “That was a long time ago.”
Seriously? Did Matteo not see his own value? She cupped his face and leaned closer, learning and memorizing the almond hint of his cologne. “And you always make donations to the arts whenever I send requests. You attend benefits and give back to your estate and those around you.”
His eyes were ablaze but she wasn’t sure what he thought as he patted her arm. “It’s my duty.”
Duty. Right. Feudalism was dead in most countries, but Matteo had been raised differently. She traced his shirt collar. Or maybe it was just him, and he inherently looked out for people like her, people who couldn’t always defend themselves.
This was her way to thank him. Nothing more. Her life with Matteo might be wonderful if it was built on respect. “I want to help you.”
He lowered her hands and held them, just above his chest. “What about you? Are you giving up on any man to be with me?”
Passion wasn’t solid enough to build a foundation on. Her heart raced, and her face grew warmer at a quick memory of waking up alone in a hotel, when she hadn’t gone to bed that way. “My last boyfriend was six months ago.”
He squeezed her hand but then let her go as he sat back and stared at her like they were in a fierce negotiation. “Who was he?”
Wait. Was Matteo… the guy who could have any girl… jealous? This was impossible. She sighed and shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to talk about her last mistake. “Someone I met at an art fair. It’s long over and I haven’t seen him since.”
He propped his elbow on the table. “Do I know him?”
Matteo was notorious for dating dozens of women, he threw lavish parties, and was not the kind who frequented art fairs, or walked without his custom-made Italian leather shoes on in the park.
She’d met Charles in Paris and lost him in Venice. She sat straighter and said, “Doubtful, but Charles was quite fun, quite mysterious and quite undependable.”
Matteo scooted closer and their knees brushed. “So why did you marry me?”
She fanned her face. His nearness was familiar and yet twisted something inside her she hadn’t felt before. She stared into his sexy brown eyes and sighed. “I want to support artists, the arts, and have security beyond my father’s restaurant.”
His lips pursed as if he’d just been schooled. Even his knee felt colder to her as he said, “So I’m dependable.”
Was that too much like a pet? She leaned forward and hoped her smile might soothe whatever male pride she’d offended. “And a friend… who kisses better than I thought you would.”
His cheeks flared red, and his knee jumped, sending goosebumps down her legs. “There is that, but I’m slightly jealous now.”
Her eyes widened as she searched his face to see if he was teasing. Matteo. Jealous? Huh? Her gaze narrowed. Charles was a mistake, not her future. “Enough to call this all off?”
“Absolutely not.” He kissed her hand.
She shivered. This conversation was done—in the past, where it belonged. “Then let’s invite the lawyers in, sign whatever we need to and be done.”
They stood. He picked up his wine and took a small sip. She did the same, as if the act symbolized a seal on their verbal deal. Matteo’s hand brushed against her back.
She trembled but did her best to ignore it.
“Sheena?”
Her lips tingled. Would he kiss her again? She glanced at his lips and asked, “Yes?”
