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She wound her way around a group of tourists, and headed for the gold facade of the Davis offices. The minute she’d taken one step into the O’Hare airport, Matteo’s distant “I’ll call you” ringing in her ears, the familiar anxiety had surfaced. The need to be someone she didn’t want to be anymore. The uncertainty of who she wanted to be.
Then she’d faced off against her father. He’d been furious, as expected, questioning her commitment to the job with no regard for her personal feelings which had, in turn, prompted her anger and the devolution of their conversation into a whole lot of issues that had nothing to do with the deal. But she’d convinced him and the board to keep De Campo in the final two. Her father had appointed Walter Driscoll, Luxe’s Chief Operating Officer, to take her place as the head of the committee, smoothed Daniel Williams’s feathers, and her fall from grace had been cemented.
Now she could focus on doing her job. Except, she thought, lips compressing as she pushed her way through the revolving doors of the Davis building, everyone she worked with seemed to be reveling in the controversy, whispering behind her back. The tabloids had been having a field day, and worst of all, she missed Matteo like crazy.
She’d responded to his texts and calls to see if she was all right with polite if brief responses, as if her self-preservation was finally kicking in. Because if she’d had reservations before of things working out with a playboy like Matteo, the media coverage over the weekend had persuaded her she could never live in a fishbowl like this.
She exited the elevator on the executive floors, stopped at her PA’s desk to drop off her coffee and pick up her messages, and shook her head as Kathryn held up a newspaper. “No more. I can’t take it. Let it be a mystery to me.”
“Perhaps you might prefer the life-size version lounging in your office,” her PA purred.
Her heart jumped—raced in her chest like a jackhammer. She pressed the sheaf of papers against it. “Matteo is in my office?”
Kathryn nodded with a sly smile. “I didn’t think he needed an appointment.”
The prevailing attitude from everyone here all day. An intense, persistent interest in her personal life. Quinn the ice queen demystified as a human after all.
She stood there torn by how much she missed him and the desire to be her smart, rational self.
Kathryn flashed her an amused look. “Are you just going to leave him in there?”
She pursued her lips. “I’m trying to decide how the new Quinn would do this.”
“I would start by closing the door,” her PA said archly. “I like the new Quinn, by the way.”
So did she. Although she was scary as hell and none too certain about the transformation.
Minimalist, fern-endowed and done in creamy, soft colors, her office was the perfect backdrop for a sensational-looking Matteo, draped across her desk, immersed in his smartphone. Dressed in dark pants and a light gray shirt with a contrasting darker charcoal tie, he looked like a cool, elegant drink of water.
She stopped inside the door and stuck her hands on her hips. “The pitch is not until Friday, you know.”
He looked up and smiled that slow, easy grin that made her already excited heart go pitter-patter. “I’m here to see you.”
She swallowed. “You trying to stir up more gossip and speculation parking yourself in my office like this?”
He gave her an even look. “I’d prefer to pursue the real story.”
Which is?
“Shut the door, Quinn.”
She stepped backward and pushed it closed, if only to prevent even more gossip.
He tilted his head to one side. “When you’ve taken my calls you’ve been annoyingly brief. Same with your texts. How am I supposed to know how you are if you won’t talk?”
She shook her head, trying desperately not to fall into the trap that was Matteo because therein lay disaster. “Hasn’t any of this craziness convinced you I was right in St. Lucia? This has to end?”
“Was I not clear enough we are going to work through this together?”
She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. Tucked the papers under her chin.
“Come here.” He held out a hand and dammit if her feet didn’t obey as if she was a trained animal. He smelled like spice and Matteo and when he tucked her between his legs and pushed her hair out of her face, it was the most right place on earth.
“First of all,” he murmured, holding her gaze, “thank you again for ensuring De Campo’s position in the pitch.”
“It was the right thing to do.”
“Secondly,” he drawled, “I know you wanted me to say I was falling in love with you the night of the party. But I need to do things in my own time, Quinn. I have baggage too.”
Her stomach did a loop-the-loop, ending up somewhere in the base of her abdomen. “I don’t know how to play this game,” she said huskily. “I need more, Matteo, to hang in here with you because right now this is all too much for me.”
His eyes flashed. “What do you need me to say?”
She shook her head. She didn’t even know.
“This isn’t about the deal, Quinn,” he said harshly. “I could pull De Campo out of it but it still wouldn’t help with your trust issues.”
“Earned trust issues.”
He sighed. Lifted his hands to cradle her jaw, his smoky eyes holding hers. “I’m crazy about you, Quinn. I’m falling so hard it terrifies me. But this is a place I’ve never been before. You have to cut me some slack.”
She felt her insides liquefy. “How are two commitment-phobes supposed to make this work?”
“Because it’s you and me,” he said softly. “And we are perfect together.”
If anyone could have expected her to hold up after that, they were sadly mistaken. She rose on tiptoe, set her mouth to his and let her kiss show him how much she’d missed him. It was about two seconds before it burst into full-on flames. Matteo made a sound low in his throat and set her away from him. “If you want a decrease on the gossip you’d better cut back on that.” He rubbed a hand across his jaw. “Please tell me you don’t have plans for tonight.”
“I do,” she said with a nod. “With my bathtub. I could possibly amend it to include you.”
The slow smile that stretched his lips pulled her insides tight. “I will make it worth your while, cara.”
The new Quinn was fully in evidence as they left the office just after five. They stopped at a local grocery store, bought some cheese Matteo knew far more about than she did and a bottle of wine and took them back to her penthouse apartment in the Loop.
Far more than she needed with three bedrooms and an impossibly gorgeous view of the skyline, it had been an investment. Matteo walked to the edge of the lushly landscaped terrace and took in the view as she worked the cork out of the Pinot Noir he’d chosen.
“So how did your conversation with your father really go?”
She’d given Matteo the glossed over version of her no-holds-barred confrontation with Warren. “He thinks my judgment is way off.” She poured the wine and walked over to hand him a glass. “He thinks you’re using me to get the contract.”
He winced. “Quinn—”
She held up a hand. “I know it’s not true and I told him that. I also told him I needed him to be more of a father than mentor sometimes. That the tough love can be too much.”
“And what did he say to that?”
Her mouth twisted in a wry smile. “I think he was flabbergasted. He thinks I’m as tough as him which clearly I am not.” She shrugged. “He also pointed out I am not the best of communicators.”
Matteo’s face softened. “We’ll call that an understatement.”
“I also told him about Julian.”
“Did he have any idea?”
“I think he didn’t want to have any idea. He was horrified. But I think maybe it made him understand me a bit more. Understand why I’ve been the way I’ve been. Done the things I have.”
He stepped forward, slid a hand behind her neck and pulled her into him. “You see? It wasn’t that hard.”
His heat, his strength enveloped her, swept over her like an elemental necessity of life she couldn’t do without. She reached up and cupped his jaw in her hand. “I can’t do another Julian, Matteo. If you leave now, nobody gets hurt.”
He shook his head. “Getting hurt is part of life. But I am not going anywhere and neither are you. We are going to do this together. Capisci?”
Tears stung her eyes. “Yes.”
He swept her up into his arms and carried her inside. She guided him to the master bedroom with soft, husky instructions. Peeled the clothes from his taut, muscular body with hands that shook with emotion. She wanted, needed him to possess her, to fill the void inside so badly it hurt.
He divested her of her clothes in a haphazard, completely un-Matteo-like fashion. His urgency should have frightened her, set off the old alarm bells. Instead she urged him on with husky commands. Told him how much she wanted him. Needed to know he could possess her completely, that she could give herself to him without reservation.
