“I’ll stop,” I state, which causes her to pause in confusion. “Since you want me to stay away from you so badly, I’ll stop all of it. You won’t have to worry about being confused or being disgusted by me. Just let me take you to my home where you’ll be safe, alright? I promise to back off.”
She considers my words, her ire deflating.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” I ask. “For me to leave you alone. You want to ignore whatever it is you feel for me. Avoid any possibilities of us.”
Her expression hardens. “That’ll be a little hard to do if we live in the same house.”
“You’ll barely see me, I can assure you. And you won’t have to talk to me either. Just get in the car.”
She pauses for a breath before nodding once. I let her walk in front of me. A part of me wants to throw her over my shoulder, force her to acknowledge the attraction she’s trying so hard to fight.
But to what end?
I don’t fucking know what I want from her.
I just know she can’t be out of my sight.
And now that I’ve effectively promised to stay away from her, maybe the distance will bring some clarity.
CHAPTER 16
Lindsay
Matteo stares straight ahead in silence, but the anger rolling off his skin roars.
We only drive for a couple more minutes before the car slows down in front of a black gate. After confirming his identity, it’s swung open.
The driveway stretches out head, long and curved. On either side, the grounds unfold in careful symmetry, manicured hedges cut with surgical precision.
My gaze lifts as the house comes into view. It’s incredible. Clean architectural lines meet stone and glass, sharp edges softened by warm lighting.
The car slows as we approach the front.
The entrance rises ahead, wide steps leading up to oak double doors. I swallow, forcing my gaze away. Even his house is intimidating, expansive enough to drown in. Exactly like him.
The car comes to a smooth stop, the engine cutting with a soft hum that leaves the space feeling suddenly, unnaturally still. The silence between us is sharp, telling.
I’m still coming to terms with our earlier conversation. With his promise.
He said he would back off. I don’t know why that has my chest aching more than anything else.
“Do you need an invitation? Get down, Lindsay,” he says without looking at me.
I huff out a breath at his tone. And yet, I’m a little glad for it. Angry Matteo I can handle. It’s the sweet one that hugs me and tells me he’ll keep me safe that bothers me. That’s the one that threatens to break down all my walls.
I open the car door and he follows suit. We climb up the steps to the door, which opens before we reach it.
There’s a man standing on the other side, older, composed, and dressed in a sharp black suit.
“Good evening, sir,” he greets, stepping forward.
Matteo barely slows, “This is Lindsay. Our guest. Show her to her room and get her everything she needs.”
The man inclines his head. “Of course, sir.”
That’s it. No explanation. He doesn’t stick around to introduce me. His instructions are a dismissal and then he’s walking off into the house. My lips thin and I try to tamp down the anger brewing beneath me.
The butler I’m guessing, shifts his attention to me. He’s polite, measured.
