Page 5 of Dating the Billionaire
She shrugged. She’d learned long ago it was best not to reveal all her assets too soon. More often they intimidated rather than impressed. “Most Americans know some Italian. Vendetta. Zucchini. Casanova.”
He looked like a Casanova, but he clearly wasn’t American. While his accent wasn’t thick, it was pronounced enough that it softened and rolled the tone of every word like chocolate melting. Everything about him—his hair, his eyes, his voice—reminded her of her greatest weakness: chocolate.
And just like chocolate, he probably wasn’t good for her. He wouldn’t make her face break out like her favorite vice, but if he was a Casanova, he could possibly make something else break—like her heart, if she wasn’t very cautious. Even knowing that she needed to be very, very cautious, she waited while he closed his hotel room door, and then she walked with him toward the elevator. When the doors opened, she drew in a deep, bracing breath before stepping inside the small car with him.
Not that she was physically afraid. She’d learned long ago how to defend herself; she’d had to, or she wouldn’t have survived high school, let alone the air force academy and basic training.
But she wasn’t sure if she would be able to defend herself emotionally if Matteo Rinaldi turned on the charm that seemed to ooze, like his expensive cologne, from his every perfect pore. The deep breath she’d drawn in filled her senses with the scent of him, which was a combination of that expensive musky cologne and raw masculinity.
He stepped inside the elevator with her, and he filled it with his physical presence and his charismatic presence. Her pulse quickened, and a heaviness settled on her chest with a hint of panic.
Just what the hell had Miranda gotten her into?
Matteo couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, that he’d been as intrigued with a woman as he was this one. And he didn’t even know her name. If she hadn’t been insistent about making it so damn clear that she wasn’t an escort, he might have had his suspicions...about the dating service and about the stunning blonde they’d sent to him. One of the owners, Miranda Fox, had made it clear that the members had to treat each other with respect at all times, though. No assumptions and absolutely no coercions.
He’d appreciated that. He also appreciated the blonde. He appreciated her bluntness in making herself absolutely clear that he should have no expectations about how the evening might end. Even more than her bluntness, he appreciated the way she looked. So damn beautiful...
Standing as close as they were in the elevator, he was incredibly aware of her beauty and of her very essence. She had such poise and grace, her head held high with dignity or maybe righteous indignation. He needed to stop teasing her, but it was hard to resist. She was hard to resist.
Awareness pulsated within him, like the blood pumping hot and fast through his veins as his heart beat harder and faster. Even though he stood more than a foot from her, heat arced between them, flushing his skin, making it tingle.
“What is your name?” he asked, his voice gruff with frustration in his overwhelming physical reaction to her and in the strange rules of the dating service that only gave out names if the members approved it.
Her lips curved into a Mona Lisa smile, fitting since they were about to attend a gallery opening. Not that he expected to find any masterpieces hanging from the walls of this particular art gallery. This woman was a work of art, though, with her perfectly toned, long body and her perfectly featured face. A dark blond brow arched over a dark blue eye. “You don’t know?”
The tie seemed to tighten around his neck as heat sneaked up from beneath it. Not knowing the identity of the person meeting him painted him the fool. Teo hated feeling foolish. “When I spoke last to the service, Miranda Fox was working on finding the perfect date for me, but in case she wasn’t able to convince the new member to sign up, she couldn’t give me the name of the woman she wanted me to meet.”
The blonde chuckled. “So you have no idea if I’m just the next best match or if I’m the perfect date.”
She knew, though, because that maddening smile played around her lips again.
And Teo knew as well—from her beauty, from her quick wit—she was undoubtedly the perfect date. In Miranda Fox’s opinion but not his. He didn’t like games, and he hated being played for a fool. All he wanted was her name; he shouldn’t have to work so hard for it.
The elevator shuddered to a stop in the lobby, and the doors opened to the marble and mahogany foyer of the elegant hotel. She moved toward those open doors, but Teo caught her elbow again, holding her back. “You wanted to make it clear earlier that you’re not an escort.”
She tensed and jerked her elbow from his grasp. “I’m not. Are you?”
He narrowed his eyes and glared at her. “No, and I’m not an idiot, either. Please, don’t treat me like one.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said with a quickness and sincerity that both surprised and delighted him.
He didn’t know many people who were as willing to admit to having made a mistake, any mistake.
“I haven’t been on a date in a while,” she said. “And this whole situation...”
“Is awkward,” he agreed. But it was beginning to feel less and less awkward and more and more intriguing.
Everything about her intrigued him.
“Yes,” she agreed very heartily, with the awkwardness, not the intriguing. She couldn’t know what he was thinking. “I may kill Miranda for putting me in this situation.”
“So you’re definitely the perfect date,” he said. “I’m not sure how I feel about your having to be talked into joining the service.” At the risk of sounding arrogant, he added, “I’ve never had to force anyone to go on a date with me before.” But that was more likely because of his money than his looks or personality.
Her lips curved into a smile again, this one not quite so Mona Lisa-like, and she heartily agreed again, “I can believe that.”
Since she couldn’t know about his money, she must have found him attractive as well.
“Which makes me wonder why you joined the service,” she continued. “Did Miranda talk you into it, too?”
