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But she was already gone, the bedroom door shutting smartly behind her.
CHAPTER NINE
I LAY IN THE DARK, staring up at the ceiling, feeling entirely out of sorts. I’d known it would be strange...coming here, being with Matteo...but I hadn’t been prepared for how strange—or, more alarmingly, how the yearning in me would feel like an empty well that desperately needed filling.
This afternoon in the sunshine felt like a very long time ago, rather than just a few hours. Coming to this sterile, stately apartment had reminded me just how much of a blank slate Matteo was—a deliberately blank state, with him not wanting to be known, never mind loved. And of course I didn’t love him. Because I couldn’t even get to know him.
And yet I still yearned. I saw glimpses of his kindness, felt the sun-warmed kiss of his approval, and my heart turned right over as my hopes started to soar. Those glimpses were so little, and yet somehow they almost seemed enough, and that scared me. I’d always known I wanted love. I’d felt that hunger and I’d made it a hope, a happiness.
One day...
Accepting Matteo’s proposal three years ago had put that hope on hold, naturally, but it hadn’t killed it. Even though life had done its best to beat it out of me, I’d held on to it all along. Against all odds. Against all reason.
One day...
And now here I was, letting that treacherous little seedling unfurl inside me and start to grow, even though I knew it shouldn’t. It absolutely shouldn’t. Because Matteo Dias, husband or not, was just about the last person who would ever love me. And more fool me if I loved him anyway, or tried to, simply because he paid me some scant attention.
I sighed heavily, turning over on my side, knowing sleep would be a long time coming as my thoughts continued their crazy dance of no, you shouldn’t and if only he did, with no answers in sight except the obvious one.
Be sensible, Daisy. Keep your head squarely on your shoulders for two weeks and then walk away!
Or rather, run.
I tensed as I heard the door click open, and then the quiet, slithery sound of clothes being shed as Matteo came into the room and began to undress. First the clink of his belt buckle and then the purr of his zipper, as loud as a car engine in the thick silence of the darkened room.
My heart lurched into my throat and my whole body tingled. Not with fear or nervousness, but with what I knew—much to my shame as well as my excitement—was anticipation. Electric, erotic anticipation.
I remained entirely still, determined to act as if I were asleep, even as tension twanged through every muscle and sinew and my nerve endings sizzled. The bed had to be at least five feet wide. As Matteo had said, there was plenty of space for both of us...which was more disappointment than not.
And yet...a bed. A bed that we were sharing. I’d never shared a bed with anyone but my grandmother before. What if we accidentally rolled into one another? What if he reached for me in his sleep? What if...?
The mattress dipped under Matteo’s weight and the cedar-scented musk of him assaulted my senses and battered them down. Longing swept through me like a river in full flood, and still I remained rigid as he made himself comfortable, turning over his pillow before settling down with a sigh as if he hadn’t a care in the world. As if he wasn’t on fire the way I was.
The silence stretched on...and on. I couldn’t so much as twitch a finger, and my eyes felt gritty with fatigue as my body twanged and twanged—a violin longing for the touch of a bow. I was never going to go to sleep. I was going to combust.
‘Relax, Daisy,’ Matteo said, amusement lacing his words like rich honey.
Clearly he hadn’t fallen for my fake sleep routine, such as it was.
‘I said I wouldn’t touch you and I meant it. You can sleep safely.’
Which I supposed was meant to be reassuring, but it tasted like disappointment. I did my best to relax—not that he’d be able to notice. The night was going to be very long.
Soon enough Matteo’s breathing evened and deepened; the man had gone to sleep while I lay there tense and aching and so very aware. It was insufferable that he could be so little tempted while I was so much. The ache in me was intensifying with every breath I took. I wanted to nestle closer into the warm, solid curve of his shoulder and breathe in that manly, woodsy scent. I wanted to trail my fingers along the stubble of his hard jaw, tilt my head up for the touch of his lips on mine, deepen the kiss as he angled his head and slanted his mouth...
Stop it, Daisy. Stop it right now.
But already my mind was racing down rabbit trails, finding ways to justify snuggling just a little bit closer—or, if I was jarringly honest, more than a little. I’d been lonely all my life in one way or another, hoping for love without knowing how to look. What if this was the closest I ever got? Just what was I keeping my heart—my body—safe for?
Suddenly it seemed like a nonsensical idea, this instinct of mine to self-protect, to throw up invisible barriers where there needed to be none. If I was trying to keep myself from getting hurt, surely it was already a lost cause?
And in the meantime...
I rolled over onto my side, my heart beating like a drum, blood pounding in my ears. I faced Matteo, barely making out his features in the dark, yet sensing him in
every way possible. If I reached my hand out I could touch his chest, feel his heart thud beneath my palm, the sculpted muscles rigid against my fingers. If I angled my head a little I could almost brush my lips against his. Already I recalled their velvety softness, the honeyed taste of him, and the way he took control of a kiss, made me drown in it. In him.
Then Matteo muttered under his breath, a garbled sound of discontent, and I stilled. Was he awake after all?
