Matteo looked around him curiously. The sitting space and adjoining kitchen weren’t what he’d been expecting either. Grace looked so buttoned-up at work in her dark business clothes, but her apartment was a riot of colors: scatter cushions on the bright blue sofa and armchairs, several rag rugs in different shades on the wooden floor, the art on the walls portraying colorful beaches and towns. The kitchen was also warm, almost homely, with its rustic wooden cabinets against terracotta tiles and copper pots and bunches of herbs hanging from hooks in the cream-painted ceiling.
It looked very much like his Nonna’s home had, situated in the Italian countryside, where he and Bella used to visit her when they were children. Like his parents, his Nonna was gone now, but Matteo still remembered those visits to Italy and the warmth and welcome of his grandmother’s arms and home.
Grace’s apartment possessed that same welcome.
“Why did you leave the hotel without telling me?” Matteo demanded
“I should never have gone there in the first place.”
“I invited you.”
“And I refused.”
“Then you changed your mind.”
“And now I’ve changed it back again.”
“Grace…” His frown was pained.
She sighed. “I didn’t belong there, Matteo.”
“I was there, and you belong with me!”
She shook her head. “From the way so many people kept staring at the two of us together, and one or two people actually commented on it, I had the feeling you don’t usually take women to family events. Or perhaps that I was the wrong woman?” she added speculatively.
How the hell—!
Matteo could feel a nerve pulsing in his tightly clenched cheek. “I decide who is the right or wrong woman for me.”
She laughed softly. “Others obviously disagree.”
“Volkov!” He coldly spat out the other man’s name. “I currently have a business arrangement with the Russians, but I have now warned both Nikolai and Gregori not to attempt to interfere in my private life again.”
Grace grimaced. “I’m sure that went down well.”
He gave a humorless laugh. “They will respect that warning or pay the consequences.”
She looked worried. “Please don’t make enemies of two such powerful men on my account.”
Matteo stepped forward to cup his hands either side of her face. “I would burn the whole fucking world down if it’s the only way I could get to you.”
Grace couldn’t look away from the intensity of Matteo’s gaze and the fire burning in those deep-blue depths. Nor was she immune to the power surging just beneath the surface of his emotions. A power he was keeping under control. Barely. Because Grace had the feeling that if she were to give a single sign, to utter one word of encouragement, then she would find herself stripped bare in seconds and beneath a just as naked Matteo.
The thought of the two of them naked together, skin against skin, was enough to cause her breath to catch in her throat.
A reaction that Matteo was obviously aware of, his eyes darkening. “Come back to the hotel with me.”
Grace didn’t make the mistake of thinking his words were a request. This man had made it clear he ordered, he didn’t ask. “I can’t.” She shook her head.
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both!”
His nostrils flared. “Then I’m staying here with you tonight.”
“No—”
“Yes!” he grated. “Yes, Grace. Fucking, yes!” He punctuated each word with a hard kiss on her lips, lingering after the last yes until her lips parted and he could deepen the kiss.
Grace finally regained enough of her senses to break the contact. “Your sister—”
“Knows I won’t be back at the wedding reception tonight. I promised I’ll be back in time to share breakfast with her in the morning, before she and Bryce leave on their honeymoon.”
Color warmed her cheeks at what Bella Steele must be thinking of her. “But—”
“I want you so badly,” Matteo groaned his frustration, his breath warm against her throat. “Let me have you? Please?”
Grace could feel how much he wanted her as his engorged cock throbbed hotly against her abdomen. It was a depth of desire she reciprocated.
But what happened after they had spent the night together?
She released a shaky sigh. “I’m not who you think I am, Matteo.”
His mouth quirked up in the semblance of a smile. “You’re not?”
“No,” she stated firmly.
He frowned. “Then who are you?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Her mouth tightened. “Won’t.”
“Is your name Grace, at least?”
“More or less, yes,” she evaded.
“Good enough.” He nodded. “So let’s ask the only relevant question… Are you secretly plotting to kill me?”
“No!” Her eyes widened indignantly. “What on earth made you even ask me a question like that?”
He shrugged. “It’s an occupational hazard.”
“Then perhaps you should take up another profession!”
“I’m a Zalotti. This is what my family does.”
Yes, Grace had heard a variation of that statement all her life, once she was able to understand what it meant, from her father and his associates. Once they were in the organization, there was no way out, except through death. Either self-inflicted or at the hands of someone more powerful or ambitious.
Her parents were both dead because of what their family did.
Grace had escaped that life once, and she wouldn’t allow herself to be dragged into it again.
Which meant what?
“One night,” she told Matteo.
He eyed her searchingly. “One night?”
She nodded. “We spend one night together. After which we agree not to see each other again.”
Matteo frowned his displeasure at what sounded like a dictate. “What if—”
“One night,” she repeated firmly, her green gaze unwavering on his.
Matteo drew in a deep breath, knowing from the determination in Grace’s expression that the immovable object had met the irresistible force. No matter how powerful he was, how many lives he held in the palm of his hand, Grace wasn’t about to be budged on her decision.
In truth, circumstances were such that Matteo had nothing to offer her either except this single night together.
A night he knew his two faithful bodyguards
