Protecting What's Mine

by Jennifer Sucevic

  I hitch my leather messenger bag higher on my shoulder, holding it like a security blanket. “I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”

  He takes a step toward me so that I have to crane my neck to hold his gaze. “That’s where we have a difference of opinion. I think we have a lot to discuss.”

  Feeling more emboldened, I wave a hand dismissively in his direction.

  People may not recognize him or know who he is, but based on his appearance and the way he carries himself, they know Matteo is someone powerful. He has a magnetic aura that draws you to him like a scrap of metal.

  “Look, we slept together,” I say in a low voice to avoid giving the audience we have gained something to talk about. “It was nothing more than that. If you’re worried that it’ll be awkward running into each other in the building, don’t be. I’ve already moved on and forgotten about it.”

  He doesn’t need to know that unbidden thoughts and images of him still flit through my mind several times a day.

  Cocking his head to one side, he studies me until I fidget. Just as the weight of his gaze becomes unbearable, he says, “Really, bella? That’s a shame. I’ve spent the last week thinking about little else other than you.”

  I rein in a snort. He must see the disbelief shining in my eyes.

  “Are you angry that I haven’t been able to see you?”

  When I was nothing more than a booty call in the middle of the night?

  Hardly.

  I’m not delusional.

  “We had fun together.” I shrug as if one-night stands are my specialty. “But that’s all it was.”

  “What if I told you that I wanted more?”

  I’d call him a liar.

  And I would tell myself that I’m a fool for believing him.

  His limo pulls up to the curb. A man in a dark suit and shades walks around from the other side and opens the door, giving us an expectant look. If Matteo’s presence hasn’t drawn enough attention, this does the trick. Speculation over who he is runs rampant through the gathered crowd.

  “Perhaps we can finish this discussion in private?” When I don’t budge, he tacks on, “Please.”

  Because I’m not stupid and I learn from my mistakes, I know how dangerous getting in that car with him is to my well-being. My heart flips whenever he’s near. My palms sweat profusely. My mouth dries. My tummy trembles. No one has ever affected me the way this man does. Glancing around, I see I’m not alone. Plenty of girls are soaking right through their panties while watching him.

  That thought is enough to harden my resolve.

  “No.”

  “No,” he repeats the word as if it’s completely foreign to him. “You won’t accept a ride from me?”

  I shake my head. I can’t be alone with him. I’ll spread my legs in minutes. Who am I kidding? More like seconds. Distance and detachment are the only armor I have against him. And they’re flimsy at best.

  “Why?” he asks.

  “Because you and I have nothing to discuss.”

  He takes another step closer and strokes my cheek with his knuckles. “That is where you’re wrong. We have much to talk about.”

  How can one touch melt my insides like ice cream on a hot August day?

  “Do we?”

  His voice drops as his eyes glimmer with fire. “Most assuredly.”

  Inhaling a shaky breath, I fight to hold firm in my stance. It seems vital to the power struggle taking place between us. “If you have something to say, we can talk right here.” I glance at the driver who is still waiting patiently. “But I’m not getting into that limo with you.”

  Humor wars with hunger in his gaze. “Are you afraid to be alone with me? Afraid something will happen between us?”

  There’s no point in lying, is there?

  “Deathly.”

  Looking thoughtful, he swipes his tongue over his teeth and shrugs. “Then I’ll have Victor drive you back to the building.”

  Surprised by his capitulation, my brows knit together. “What about you?”

  “After he drops you off, he’ll return for me.”

  I peek at the gathered crowd of women. It’s as though a rock star is in their midst. I’m sure they would love to have Matteo all to themselves. Before my mind begins to spin with jealousy, his fingers slide under my chin, turning my head until my eyes once again meet his.

  He says softly, “You have nothing to be concerned about.”

  I think of the girl he screwed on his patio and the other one with him at the club. I’ve never been the jealous type, but it’s hard not to be when woman gawk at him everywhere he goes.

  “Have dinner with me.”

  That sounds much safer than being stuck in the limo with him.

  “Just one dinner,” he cajoles. “That’s all I’m asking for. We’ll have a nice meal and talk. Nothing more than that.”

  Biting my lip, I feel myself wavering. “When?”

  “Tonight.” His eyes stay locked on mine. I could lose myself in their bottomless depths.

  “Do you promise to behave?”

  One side of his sexy mouth hitches before he says solemnly, “I promise that nothing will happen that you don’t want.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better.” Closing my eyes, I ask quietly, "What time?”

  “Six.”

  I know damn well that going out with him will more than likely lead to me orgasming, and I still can’t say no.

  “Okay. I’ll see you tonight at six.”

  He pulls his phone out of his suit jacket pocket. “Want to text me your address?”

  A gurgle of laughter escapes me, breaking the tension between us. His lips lift in response.

  “I don’t think I want you to have my cell number.”

  Unoffended, he shrugs and slips the phone back into his pocket. Our gazes hold as I slide into the limo. Victor severs the connection by closing the door. Just as I huff out a relived breath for getting away with my panties intact, my phone chimes with an incoming message.

  Already have it, bella.

  My breath stalls as I gape at the screen.

  Seriously, who is this man?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The doorbell rings at six o’clock on the dot. I lay a hand across my lower abdomen as a thousand tiny butterflies take flight.

  Inhaling a deep breath, I tell myself to calm down.

  It’s just dinner.

  Nothing more.

  A small thrill zings through me as I open the door. Matteo’s dark eyes slide over my body, giving me the once-over. He never specified where we were going and I didn’t want to open up a line of communication by texting him, so I chose an outfit consisting of white shorts, a navy-blue blouse, and silver sandals with a short heel.

  I’d normally wear a skirt, but that option was a no-go after what happened in the limo the night he gave me a ride home from the club. Wearing an extra layer is a weak defense mechanism, but I have to protect myself any way I can when it comes to this man.

  Apparently, casual was the way to go because Matteo is dressed in jeans and a pink button-down shirt. The sleeves are rolled up, exposing his forearms. It’s a departure from what he normally wears.

  Yet it’s just as sexy as the suits.

  And the athletic gear.

  Although naked is my favorite look on him. Sculpted muscles on full display…

  Mmmm.

  As that inappropriate thought flickers through my head, my gaze shifts back to his.

  A satisfied smirk twists his lips indicating that my perusal has not gone unnoticed. I should be irritated for already melting into a puddle of goo.

  But I’m not.

  I’m learning to accept that this man scrambles my brains whenever I’m around him.

  “Are you finished eating me up with your eyes?”

  Heat stings my cheeks. Trying to brazen out the situation, I shrug as if it’s no big deal. “Stop looking so good, and maybe I’ll stop staring.”

&n
bsp; His eyes widen, and a deep chuckle rolls off his lips. “Already this evening has become more interesting.”

  Before I can reply, he holds out an arm. “Ready?”

  That one word makes me suck in a breath. “As I’ll ever be.”

  “Don’t worry, I promise that tonight will be relatively painless.”

  I grab my purse from the credenza and place my hand against his forearm. Since his sleeves are rolled up, my fingers rest against his olive-toned flesh. A shiver of awareness zips through me at the intimate touch.

  He moves closer and says in a low voice, “Unless that’s something you’re into.”

  If he weren’t holding onto me so tightly, I would stumble at the purred-out words and their implied meaning. At the arrow of heat that explodes like a firework in my core. Those slaps he gave to the woman on the balcony echo through my head. My eyes dart to his, but he only gives me a teasing wink.

  We leave and make our way toward the elevator. There aren’t more than fifty residents in the building, so we don’t have to wait long. Which is a relief, because I’m a bundle of pent-up, restless energy. When the elevator begins to rise instead of descending to the lobby, I glance at Matteo in question.

  He smiles smugly.

  “I thought we were going to dinner?”

  “We are. But I never said where, did I?”

  Before I can ask any more questions, the doors slide open. We step out on the rooftop where the pool and gardens are located. As we make our way toward the flower beds, I notice that one of the tables has been covered with a thick, white tablecloth. A hurricane candle sits in the middle. Two sets of silverware and stemware glint in the flickering light.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve arranged for us to have a private dinner up here.” He glances around before his eyes finally make their way back to mine. “The gardens are beautiful, aren’t they?”

  “Private?” That single word resonates throughout my head. The rooftop terrace is not private. Residents from the building can use it at any time.

  “Tonight, it’s just for us. If someone tries pressing the elevator button, it will not work. They won’t be able to gain access.”

  My mind spins as Matteo leads me to the table and pulls out one of the wrought iron chairs. Once I’m seated, he slides into the chair across from me. His gaze never strays.

  I feel as if he’s trying to decipher the myriad of expressions that must be flitting across my face. I’ve never been good at concealing them.

  A man who looks as though he works at a fancy restaurant appears. “May I pour you a glass of wine, madam?”

  “Please,” I croak. I need a drink even though the wine will only amplify the off-kilter feeling coursing through me.

  He fills my glass before doing the same for Matteo. “Appetizers will be out shortly.”

  Matteo’s eyes remain riveted to mine. “Thank you, Roberto.”

  With a slight nod of acknowledgement, the waiter leaves.

  I shake my head to clear it. What’s going on here? “You arranged all this?”

  “Does that surprise you?”

  Does it surprise me that he would go to all this trouble? “Yeah, it does.”

  With a trembling hand, I pick up my glass and take a small sip. My eyes close in appreciation. Oh, that’s good. Really good.

  “I love how expressive your face is.”

  My eyes fly open to find that Matteo has closed some of the distance between us. My fingers grip the edge of the table, thankful for the circular object sitting between us. I need the separation.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  He has to know that this seduction isn’t necessary. I was his from the moment I opened the door and set eyes on him.

  Tilting his head to one side, he considers my question and replies with one of his own. “Why?”

  “Yes…” I don’t want to point out the differences between us, but he isn’t leaving me a choice in the matter. Matteo could be with any women he wants. Probably several. At the same time. I see the way they watch him. And yet, I’m the one he’s actively pursuing? It doesn’t make sense, especially when I take into account that he doesn’t date women.

  “Why are you doing this? We already slept together.”

  Instead of answering my question, he picks up his glass and takes a sip of wine. My eyes drop to his mouth.

  Why am I so preoccupied with it?

  I have no idea, but I am. Wildly so. I want to drag a fingertip over that sexy top lip and sweep it across the lower one. Memories of Matteo’s mouth licking and sucking my flesh make me shiver.

  I shake myself out of my stupor, jerking my gaze back to his. My breath catches from the stark hunger filling his dark eyes. He knows what’s been cartwheeling through my head and is just as turned on as I am. The way he continues to watch me ignites a firestorm of lust deep in my belly.

  And lower.

  Most definitely lower.

  I squirm in my chair. But there is no relief to be had. Not yet anyway.

  “Is it so difficult to believe that I would like to get to know you better, Grace?”

  Shaking my head, I will myself to stay focused on the conversation and not the way his eyes continue to seduce me. I fling his own words back at him. “Aren’t you the one who said that you don’t date women?” I pause and add, “You fuck them.”

  Matteo inclines his head in acknowledgment. “Normally that’s exactly how I go about things.” He pauses as if considering his next words carefully. As if considering me with an equal amount of caution. “However, there’s something about you. Something that intrigues me.” He leans closer. “Don’t you feel it? The energy that hums between us? The attraction?”

  I nod.

  Of course, I feel it.

  How could I not? It’s all-encompassing. I feel it from the tip of my head to the bottom of my toes. Every time I’m with Matteo, I feel more alive than I’ve felt in a long time. Do you know how addictive that is? He’s like a drug pumping wildly through my system. I know he’s not good for me, but I still want more. I can’t help myself.

  “There’s a pull between us. One that begs to be explored. I’m not making any promises. I just want to spend more time together, to figure it out. Is there any reason we can’t do that?”

  Yes. I’m scarred enough. Getting involved with him will only leave more indelible marks upon my soul. I’m trying to heal, not put myself through any more unnecessary pain.

  But can I walk away from him? From what he makes me feel? Should I deny myself something that has the power to make me feel so incredibly good because the chance of a happily ever after is nonexistent?

  Because he isn’t trying to whitewash the situation?

  Or lie about his true intentions?

  I should appreciate his honesty and simply accept it for what it is. I’m not going into this blindly. I understand exactly what’s going on.

  “Okay.”

  With a small smile playing around the edges of his lips, he lifts his glass toward mine. I do the same.

  A predatory gleam fills his eyes. “To getting to know one another.”

  I clink my glass against his as a shiver of apprehension scuttles through me. Sipping my wine, I wonder what I’ve just set in motion.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Standing by the railing that overlooks the city, I breathe deeply as the cool night breeze ruffles my hair. Willis Tower rises above the other lit-up building. I take in the skyline, admiring the breathtaking beauty surrounding me. I’ve seen the lake from my patio at night. But this is something altogether different. The bright city lights stretch like grasping fingers into the distance. I realize just how much I missed Chicago.

  Matteo stands behind me with his front lightly pressed into my back. His arms are loosely wrapped around me. His warm breath fans against the side of my face. As always, his proximity sends shivers scampering down my spine.

  Slowly he runs the tip of his nose across my neck.

 
I struggle to resist the urge to close my eyes and roll my head back, allowing him greater access. I want to feel his mouth kissing and nipping my skin. Instead, I focus on how the brightly lit buildings punctuate the dark sky.

  I try not to lose myself in him too quickly.

  When it comes down to it, I know nothing about Matteo.

  I know that he’s ridiculously good looking. That he dresses well and lives in an expensive building. He obviously has the power to dig into my background and find out all sorts of information.

  But who is he really?

  If we venture into relationship territory, I need these questions answered.

  “Have you always lived here?” I ask.

  For a long, silent moment, he continues caressing me with the tip of his nose. My stomach sinks as I wonder if he’ll use his power of seduction to avoid sharing personal details with me. How can I give any more of myself when he won’t open up at all?

  “Yes, I was born here.”

  “But you have an accent.” It’s light, but noticeable, always threaded through his words.

  “I’ve spent a great deal of time in Italy. My mother’s parents are still in Padova, as are many aunt, uncles, and cousins.”

  The crumbs he shares whet my appetite for more. “Do you have any sisters or brothers?”

  My eyes shut as his lips touch my neck. “Yes. Two sisters, two brothers.”

  One of five...

  I can’t begin to fathom what growing up in a family with so many siblings must have been like. Then add in all those cousins, aunts, and uncles. Grandparents, too. With a swiftness I’m unprepared for, longing cuts through my heart. I’m jealous that he can lay claim to so many people.

  I have no idea what being part of a large family feels like.

  Although I was content with my parents and had a happy, well-adjusted childhood, I secretly longed for a sibling. More than one. Of course, I loved having my parents’ undivided attention. Who wouldn’t? I accompanied them everywhere they went, but still felt lonely as the only child in a room full of adults.

  I don’t remember hearing them talk about having more kids. I think they enjoyed parenting and still being able to live their lives the way they wanted- working, traveling, and visiting friends.