Emmie turned away to hang her coat on the coat stand near the door. ‘I guess your future wife will have to give up drinking anyway if she’s to become pregnant as soon as possible.’ Even saying the word made her heart ache for what she could never have. She imagined him holding a new-born baby. Somehow, she knew he would be an excellent father. Strong, dependable, protective.
‘Yes.’
Emmie turned to face him again, not entirely confident her features were as neutral as she would have liked. ‘But what if she doesn’t get pregnant straight away? Some couples take many months to fall pregnant. Sometimes years. And others, never.’
‘And others on their first attempt.’ His expression was shuttered but his tone contained a note of something she couldn’t quite identify. It sounded cynical and yet it had an undertone of something else.
Emmie searched his face for a clue but it was like trying to read a marble bust. ‘I guess that would be ideal for your situation, but you can’t guarantee it will happen.’
‘It has to happen, otherwise I stand to lose everything I’ve worked so hard to keep.’ The implacable quality to his voice was a reminder of his determined nature. Once he set his mind to something, he would not stop until he achieved it. But some things in life were impossible to achieve no matter how much you wanted them. She, of all people, knew that only too well.
‘I have women on my books who desperately want to have a family, but they also want love,’ Emmie said. ‘And therein lies the problem, because you want the former but not the latter.’
‘It’s my experience that if you pay someone enough they will agree to whatever you want them to do.’ There was no doubt about the cynicism in his tone now. Every word positively dripped with it.
Emmie gave him a tight smile. ‘You’re going to be a hard sell, Mr Vitale, but never let it be said I baulk at a challenge.’
Matteo held her gaze for a beat longer than she was comfortable with but she was determined not to look away first. His gaze drifted to her mouth and she had to resist the urge to moisten her lips. ‘Do you live alone?’ His gaze came back to hers and she could feel her cheeks heating.
‘Yes.’
He cast his gaze around the spacious interior. ‘It’s a big house for one person.’
‘I like my own space.’
‘Fair enough.’ He studied her for a long moment, his eyes moving over every inch of her face, as if searching for something. Emmie kept as still as she possibly could, barely taking a breath in case she betrayed how unsettled she was in his disturbing company. Not creepily disturbing, but disturbing to her sense of equilibrium. Everything about him made her feel on edge, worried he would see more than she wanted him to see.
‘You’re a very unusual young woman, Emmie.’ His voice dropped to a low burr that reminded her of distant thunder. Nature signalling a warning of approaching danger. Danger that could upend her carefully ordered life and make her want things she had no business wanting.
Emmie glanced at the shape of his mouth and imagined it pressed to her own. Those firm, determined lips moving against hers, drawing from her a fervent response that she sensed would set fire to every cell in her body. She drew in a prickly breath and took an unsteady step backwards, and would have stumbled if not for the quick action of his hand coming out to stabilise her.
‘Are you okay?’ His brows snapped together in concern, his grip gentle but firm, his touch sending waves of awareness rippling through her body.
Not in your presence, I’m not. But she could hardly say it out loud.
‘I—I’m fine.’ Emmie pasted a bright smile on her mouth.
His gaze lowered to her mouth, his hand on her arm moving to press ever so gently on the small of her back, bringing her slowly, inexorably closer to the warm, male heat of his body. There was a dark intensity in his hooded gaze and her blood quickened, as if suddenly injected with a potent drug. A drug that pushed aside her normal inhibitions and sent her senses spinning out of control.
Emmie licked her lower lip, breathing in the intimate warmth of his breath that danced over hers, her eyes lowering to half-mast. She was drugged, dazed, dazzled by the ever-so-slow descent of his mouth, her breath hitching in the nanosecond before he touched down. His lips were firm and yet soft, moving against hers in a languid manner, exploring the landscape of her lips before lazily stroking the seam of her mouth with his tongue. A hot shiver coursed down her spine and Emmie parted her lips on a gasp of pleasure, hungrily responding to his erotic entry, the very hairs on her head standing up at the roots in sensual delight.
Emmie murmured against his lips, wanting more, needing more. But then a voice sounded in her head, reminding her of the danger she would drift into by becoming involved with Matteo. He was not just a healthy man in his prime but more importantly a client. What was she thinking? It was completely and utterly unprofessional. She had never crossed such an important line before, nor had she ever been tempted to do so.
With what little self-control she had left, she pulled away from him, her cheeks warm, her lips hotter from where his had pressed so expertly, so temptingly. ‘Erm, I’m sorry. I—I don’t want you to think I allow all my male clients to kiss me. I don’t know how or why that happened, but it must not happen again.’ She straightened her shoulders and painted on a formal expression. ‘Now, about that drink?’
A crooked smile formed on his lips, his eyes glinting. ‘Let’s leave it for another time.’
It? What ‘it’ was he referring to? A drink or something even more potent to her senses? ‘I guess hot chocolate or fruit juice isn’t quite up to your sophisticated taste?’ Emmie put in with an attempt at an I’m-not-flustered-by-you-one-little-bit smile.
‘It’s late and I should let you get to bed. We both have to work tomorrow.’
There was the ‘bed’ word again, and somehow hearing it from his lips made it even worse. Especially when she could still taste his lips on her own. Her mind conjured up images of her in bed with him, their limbs entangled, their naked bodies pressed together in the throes of passionate sex.
Emmie had never had passionate sex, only a teenage fumble and the hit-and-miss sort of mild pleasure that had left her disappointed and wondering what all the fuss was about. She hadn’t been brave enough to have sex since her diagnosis and treatment. Sharing her body with someone post-cancer was too confronting. But, now that Matteo had kissed her, she was tempted in a way she had never been tempted before to experience competent lovemaking. To lie in a man’s arms and be pleasured like she had never been pleasured before. For his lovemaking would be nothing if not competent, she was sure. Matteo Vitale had an aura of sexual competence about him and it called out to every hungry cell in her body.
But she could not be tempted. Must not be tempted again. It was completely unprofessional and would only waste valuable time for him to achieve his goal.
Emmie quickly did a mental scan of her clients and came up with a name. Karena Thorsby wasn’t a perfect fit for him but she came reasonably close. ‘Look, speaking of work, I wonder if I do have someone who might suit your requirements. Would you be interested in meeting her for a drink, perhaps tomorrow if I can arrange it? If she suits, I wouldn’t need to come to Umbria after all. I mean, it will save time for you, not to mention money.’
Matteo’s gaze held hers in a lock that made the backs of her knees tingle. His expression was impossible to read and it made her all the more determined to keep her distance. She had never met anyone so intriguing, so alluring and complex. So dangerously tempting.
‘Fine. I’ll clear my diary.’
Emmie licked her lips and was shocked at how sensitive they still were, as if his kiss had somehow changed them. Charging them with such sensual energy they could never be the same.
‘So, I’ll be in touch as soon as I speak to Karena.’ She moved towards the front door, desperate to get him to leave before
she changed her mind. She opened the door and stretched her lips into another forced smile. ‘Thank you again for dinner and for the lift home.’
Matteo stood in the frame of the doorway and looked down at her with his inscrutable expression still in place. His eyes briefly dipped to her mouth before coming back to hold hers. ‘Goodnight.’
Emmie was aware of every thudding beat of her heart, aware of the hum of sensual energy in the air passing from his body to hers, aware of the magnetic pull of his gaze. Aware of the silent throb of blood still coursing through her kiss-swollen lips. ‘’Night.’
She closed the door once he’d left, and leaned back against it and let out a long, serrated sigh. ‘Don’t even think about it.’ She whispered the words but they rang in the silence like a clanging alarm bell.
CHAPTER FOUR
MATTEO SUPPRESSED YET another yawn as Karena Thorsby told him her sad relationship history and why she was now thirty-four and desperate to settle down and make babies with the man of her dreams. But, while he conceded that she was attractive and intelligent, and had every right to want to fulfil her dream of happy-ever-after, he’d known from the moment he met her he wasn’t the one to give it to her. There was no chemistry, no electric spark, no longing on his part to see her again.
Unlike with Emmie Woodcroft.
Every time he thought of Emmie, he thought of her periwinkle-blue eyes and lush mouth. The sweet softness of her lips and how they had clung to his when he’d kissed her. He thought of her petite frame pressed closely to his as he’d attended to her cut finger. How soft her skin was, how small her hand in comparison to his. He recalled the fragrance of her, the geranium and bergamot scent that was as intoxicating as a drug.
From the moment he’d met her, he had been drawn to her in a way he had never experienced with anyone else. Of course, he had felt instant desire in the past, but somehow with Emmie it went further than primal urges. Way, way further. It was as if she had some other indefinable element to her personality that called out to his on a silent radar frequency that sent tingles dancing along his flesh.
Finally, his date with Karena finally ended, his only comfort being she didn’t seem all that disappointed, or even surprised, when he said he wasn’t interested in repeating it.
He drove home with his mind replaying his dinner date with Emmie—how he had been disappointed when the evening had finally come to an end. He let out a sigh and turned his car into his street. Was he strangely fixated on Emmie because she had made it clear she wasn’t interested in finding a partner? Did his male ego see her as some sort of fresh challenge? He usually had no trouble finding casual partners, but right now he wasn’t after a fling. He needed a wife in a hurry, and obsessing about a young woman who had no plans to marry any time soon, if ever, would only waste his valuable time.
And yet, that kiss between them had shown him she was as drawn to him as he was to her.
Could he get Emmie to change her mind?
* * *
Emmie caught up with Karena the following day when she popped into Emmie’s office on her lunch break.
‘So, how did your date with Matteo Vitale go?’
Karena plonked herself down in the chair opposite Emmie’s desk. ‘Don’t get me wrong, he was polite and easy on the eye, but I didn’t feel any connection with him at all. In fact, I found him a little intimidating—more than a little, if I’m honest. I kept babbling on to fill the awkward silences but I think he was bored the whole time we were together.’
Emmie should have felt disappointed it hadn’t worked out for Matteo with Karena but strangely she was not. Nor was she going to examine too closely why she wasn’t disappointed. ‘I’m sorry. I guess he can be a little intimidating when you first meet him. But I do have another client who might be better for you. I’ve only just finished entering his details into the system.’
She clicked on her computer screen and scrolled through the list till she came to a divorced man of a similar age to Karena. ‘Colin Appleby is looking for all the things you are. His wife left him a couple of years ago because he wanted children and she didn’t. I’ll organise a meeting for you both if you like?’
‘Please do. My biological clock is ticking so loudly, it keeps me awake at night.’
Emmie forced her lips into an empathetic smile, her heart twisting into a tight knot in her chest. ‘I can only imagine how awful that must be but let’s hope Colin is The One.’
* * *
Karena had only been gone half an hour when Paisley informed her she had another visitor. ‘It’s Mr Vitale,’ she said in a stage whisper. ‘He’s insisting on seeing you now. He’s making rather a habit of this, isn’t he? Shall I insist on him making an appointment or send him in?’
Emmie tried to ignore the soft flutter around her heart and rose from her chair. She suspected anyone insisting that Matteo Vitale do anything would be an impossible task. He had an iron will and a steely resolve that would daunt most people. But she was not most people and, besides, he was paying her a large sum of money, so she had to make his needs a priority. ‘Send him in.’ She smoothed her hands down the sides of her skirt, her pulse already picking up its pace.
Matteo came in looking as dashingly handsome as ever, especially with his windblown hair, and dressed in a dark suit the same colour as his eyes. He looked like a brooding hero from a Gothic romance, the landscape of his face drawn into harsh lines, his unusually blue eyes as dark as a midnight sky.
‘Really? Was that the best you could do?’ His blunt question was delivered with a cutting note of disdain.
Emmie refused to be intimidated by him, somehow understanding his natural inclination was to push people away rather than draw them near. ‘Look, these things take time and—’
‘I don’t have time. I’m paying you a truckload of money to find me a wife, but if you can’t find someone even remotely suitable then please tell me now so I can make other arrangements.’
‘I’m working on it. Please, take a seat. Paisley has organised my travel arrangements and I can be in Umbria next week. Spending time with you will give me a clearer idea of—’
‘Next week?’ His eyes flashed with impatience and he remained standing, his imposing height never more apparent. ‘Why not this weekend?’
Emmie disguised a convulsive swallow. She needed time to prepare herself, to get her head round spending an extended period of time with him. That impulsive kiss between them at her house warned her of the danger in being alone with him. She took a calming breath and straightened her spine, eyeballing him as if she was a stern schoolmistress dressing down a recalcitrant student.
‘Mr Vitale, it no longer surprises me you’ve found it hard to find a suitable partner. I understand you like things done quickly, but I can’t just shuffle around my diary to suit you. I have other clients to see to.’
‘You have staff, don’t you? Get them to see to them.’
Emmie gave him a look so glacial she fully expected the glass of water on her desk to freeze on the spot. ‘You know, you might have had a chance with Karena if you hadn’t scared the hell out of her. You made her nervous.’
‘She should be an anaesthetist,’ he shot back, scraping a hand through his already tousled hair. ‘She would save the NHS a fortune on drugs. I swear to God, she almost put me to sleep by telling me about every man she’d ever dated and why they hadn’t worked out.’ He dropped his hand by his side and continued in a less harsh tone, ‘Not that she wasn’t a nice person, but she’s far from my type.’
‘Ah yes, your type,’ Emmie said with an arch look. ‘And that type would be...?’
He held her gaze for a throbbing moment, his eyes so dark and unreadable her heart skipped a beat. ‘The type of woman who would agree to marry me for a year or two, max, and provide me with an heir.’
‘But what sort of woman do you normally date?’
‘
The no-strings type.’
‘It’s my experience there are a lot less of them around than most men think,’ Emmie said. ‘Relationships, even casual ones, rarely come without strings, or indeed consequences. Someone nearly always gets hurt.’
Matteo drew in a deep breath and turned away to go and stand in front of her window, looking at the sliver of a view she paid a fortune in rent to stand on tiptoe and crane her neck to see. One of his hands came up to rub at the back of his neck as if to loosen a knot of tension. He rolled his shoulders and released a long sigh, turning around to look at her. ‘It’s never been my intention to hurt anyone, but yes, it has happened in the past.’
‘Have you ever fallen in love?’
‘No.’
‘But someone did with you?’
A flicker of pain passed through his gaze. ‘Unfortunately, yes.’
‘Unfortunately, because...?’
‘We were totally unsuitable for each other.’ His tone was flat, his expression bleak. ‘You have no idea of the pain I caused and there’s nothing I can do to change a damn thing about it. Not now.’
Emmie came round from behind her desk and laid a gentle hand on his forearm. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ She kept her voice soft, her gaze searching his pained one.
He blinked as if to recalibrate his mood and his expression became shuttered. ‘No. Talking about it won’t change a thing.’ His hand came down over the top of hers and a frisson passed through her body. At first, she thought he was going to remove her hand from his arm, but he seemed to change his mind and took her hand in his. His long, tanned fingers curled around hers and he began to stroke the fleshy part at the base of her thumb, his gaze locking on hers. ‘You’re good at this.’
‘At what?’
‘Finding out people’s darkest secrets.’
‘But you’re determined not to tell me yours.’
His eyes went to her mouth for a heart-stopping moment. Was he recalling their stolen kiss? The heat of it, the warm press of flesh on flesh, the erotic tangle their tongues? ‘Doesn’t everyone have something they would rather keep private?’ His gaze locked back on hers and a tiny shiver raced across her scalp.
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