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Matteo rose to his feet. ‘You’re exhausted. Get some sleep. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.’ He walked towards the door and opened it.
Izzy watched him for a moment and then slid off the couch and walked towards him, summoning as much dignity as a woman could when wearing frog pyjamas. ‘She can sing my song.’
‘Good decision.’ His arm brushed against hers and that brief touch was all it took. Liquid longing poured through her, heating her body from head to foot.
Having spent the past hour watching him she was so revved up her body was on fire. She desperately wanted him to kiss her again but at the same time she didn’t.
Her last relationship had been an absolute disaster.
The fallout had affected her for months.
He stepped back from her quickly and Izzy caught his eye.
‘OK, this is crazy. Do you have any idea why we feel like this? Because honestly, if you know please tell me so I can talk myself out of it.’
Until she’d met him she’d never known that sexual attraction could be this powerful.
With a soft curse he slid his fingers under her chin and lifted her face to his. For a moment he looked down at her and all she could think about were his fingers, warm and strong against her face, and the fact that her heart was sprinting inside her chest.
She could hardly breathe. ‘I don’t know why I feel like this because honestly you drive me nuts.’
‘You drive me nuts too.’ His eyes darkened and she saw her own conflict reflected in his gaze.
His head lowered slightly, or maybe it was just her imagination because she wanted it so badly. The memory of the way he kissed turned her thoughts to a foggy pulp and sent a dragging ache through the base of her belly. Breathless anticipation became a wicked hunger and her willpower, her self-control and her ‘goals’ all retreated to a place where they were no longer accessible.
‘Cristo, you’re right. We can’t do this.’ His voice ho
arse, he took a step backwards, wincing as he crashed into the wall behind. ‘You’d better go. Go now.’
Her head still spinning, Izzy stared at him dizzily. ‘Yes.’ She tried to walk but her legs wouldn’t move. ‘Just for the record, this is because I’m a tacky popstar and you’re a prince, right?’
‘No.’ His jaw was clenched and his eyes were two narrow slits. ‘This is because you’re young and you have a romantic view of relationships.’
‘There’s something wrong with believing in romance?’
‘Not at all,’ he drawled, ‘providing those views are shared by the man in question. You believe in love and happy ever afters. Your view of the world is based on a fairy tale. I, on the other hand, am a grim realist. I’m jaded and cynical. Any relationship between us would be guaranteed to end in heartbreak.’
‘Given that you’re reputed not to have a heart, I presume it’s my heart that’s going to be breaking in this scenario.’
‘Yes. And my ideal woman doesn’t have a heart to break.’
‘Apart from the fact that one of my goals is to avoid emotional involvement, you’re so not my type there just isn’t any way I’d fall in love with you.’
A sardonic smile touched his mouth. ‘A risk I’m not prepared to take.’
‘You think you’re that irresistible? That really is arrogant.’
‘For once I was being unselfish, but if you wish to call it arrogance that doesn’t worry me. You’ve already been hurt once. I’m not about to do it a second time.’
Humiliation washed over her and her face caught fire. ‘You know about that?’
‘I saw the pictures of you crying on the steps of the church.’
‘Oh, great.’
His mouth twitched. ‘The dress was hideous.’
The comment made her laugh. ‘Yes, it was. Rhinestones. God, what was I thinking? It was worse than red sequins. Maybe that’s why he didn’t turn up.’ Swallowing back the hurt, she gave a weak smile. ‘No, actually he didn’t turn up because my record bombed and I was no longer a useful person to be associated with. He used me. And I suppose I shouldn’t mind about that given my own track record, except that at least I’m honest about it. Who would have thought we would have so much in common? Anyway, that’s enough of my sob story. What’s yours?’
