The Italian's Christmas Proposition. Cathy Williams
working in cahoots with a partner in crime. For once, his cynicism might be misplaced. He wasn’t going to give up the notion willingly, but…he was getting there.
Nor was he convinced that she had been trying to come on to him, he grudgingly conceded. She was either an actress of Oscar winning standard or her shock at the accusation had been genuine.
He was so accustomed to women making a play for him, that the idea of one actively horrified at the thought of it was as novel as discovering a fish riding a bike in the centre of Hyde Park.
No ulterior motive, which just left her explanation that she had started an ill-thought-out act of impulse to escape some guy’s advances.
This time, when he looked at her, it was with lazy interest. He was thirty-two years old but his palate was lamentably jaded. This slice of novelty was strangely compelling.
‘Aren’t you a little young to be told that you need to start thinking about settling down?’ He shifted, making a concerted effort not to give in to the urge to stare at her fabulous body. ‘And, conversely, a little old for your family to be the ones giving the lectures?’
Rosie bristled. ‘They care about me. Not that that’s any of your business.’
‘Everything is my business when, thanks to you, the deal I’ve been nurturing for the past eight months will probably come to nothing. Whether what you and your sister did was a deliberate ruse or not, the upshot remains the same.’
‘Bob and Margaret seem very reasonable people, not the sort to jeopardise whatever agreement you reached with them because of a scene in a hotel lobby.’ Rosie flushed as her guilty conscience ate away at her. She couldn’t understand why he needed any deal so badly when it was obvious that he was made of money. Her parents were rich but she suspected that this guy was in a different league altogether.
‘Bob and Margaret are deeply traditional people,’ Matteo informed her coolly. ‘Church goers with an extremely healthy respect for the family unit, as you may have gathered. My integrity has been paramount to winning their trust.’
‘I’m really and truly sorry. I had no idea that my sister would fly down there and let rip. It’s not like her at all. She never makes a fuss. She’s probably at the chalet right now broadcasting our relationship to the entire family.’
‘The chalet?’
‘My parents own a chalet about fifteen minutes from here.’ She stared off into the distance and wondered what the next step was going to be.
Her gaze slid over to where Matteo was still staring at her, his loose-limbed body relaxed and her heart picked up speed. He was so perfect…so stupendously good-looking.
‘You still haven’t properly explained what went on down there,’ Matteo prompted, his voice clipped. ‘Now Cupid has supposedly targeted us, you might as well fill me in on this guy you don’t want to meet and why you’re having to in the first place. I didn’t ask for this but it’s landed on my lap and I’m going to have to make the best of it. I’ll need some personal details about you.’
Rosie looked at him and then found that she couldn’t stop looking and, when she looked, her brain went into overdrive and she started thinking about the way his mouth had felt against her cheek.
‘I…well…as I mentioned, my family think it’s time for me to start settling down—and please don’t tell me that I’m too old to have my sisters and my parents fussing around me. I know that. Fact is, Candice came over to warn me that they were thinking of inviting some family friends to the chalet over Christmas.’ She grimaced. ‘Bertie is their son.’
‘And?’ Matteo tilted his head and looked at her with raised eyebrows. ‘You don’t like him? Ex-lover? Bad break-up? Where are we going with this one?’
‘You’re very rude, aren’t you?’ She scowled and then, without warning, he smiled at her and all that sexiness was thrown into such stark focus that she was temporarily shocked into silence.
The harsh beauty of his face was no longer forbidding. All of a sudden, Rosie glimpsed at what true sexiness in a guy was all about and in an instant every boyfriend she had ever had faded into insignificance. She had gone out with silly little boys. The glorious specimen sprawled in front of her was just the opposite. He was all man, an alpha male in the prime of his life. She felt faint.
‘No one has ever said that to me before,’ Matteo drawled. ‘Should I be irritated, bemused or intrigued?’
Rosie squirmed. She wasn’t sure how to answer that question or whether he even expected an answer. She felt hot and bothered, as if she was coming down with something.
‘My parents think that Bertie and I might be a good match and I guess…’ She hesitated. ‘I acted without thinking. Candice was sitting across from me, ruining my entire Christmas. I just looked down and spotted Bob and Margaret and the guy they said they’d been doing business with, and I knew that you were all leaving, so I…told my sister that I couldn’t possibly face Bertie because I’d been having a fling with you, which hadn’t worked out and I was all broken up. It seemed safe. You were going and there was no way I thought she was ever going to…do what she ended up doing.’
Hearing it spoken out loud, Rosie couldn’t imagine why she had done what she had. Why hadn’t she just stood her ground and refused?
She knew why. Because it had always been her nature to follow the path of least resistance and that had evolved into her just going with the flow.
‘I should have just told Candice that if Bertie was going to be on the scene then I would make sure not to be there. I should have had a bit more will power. Instead, I acted on impulse, and I’m sorry.’
‘I’m getting the picture of someone who lets her family run her life for her. Am I right?’
‘Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?’
‘You shouldn’t make offers like that,’ Matteo murmured. ‘A guy could get all the wrong ideas.’
Heat coursed through her body, a slow burn from the inside out. Her breasts ached and her nipples, straining against her bra, felt ultra-sensitive, tingling. She imagined the pads of his fingers rubbing them and her breathing became shallow and laboured. She had no experience when it came to this kind of sophisticated, lazy flirting. If that was even what it was. All she could do was stare at him while her mind continued to play with all sorts of graphic, contraband images.
What on earth was wrong with her?
This guy reeked of danger and yet the pull she felt was overpowering.
‘So, now that we’re an item, what happens next?’
‘I…well…’
‘In the thick of this relationship, our hot, two-week clandestine fling, where were we supposed to be meeting? My room at the hotel? Your parents’ chalet? Neither of the above? It’s a mystery that Bob and Margaret didn’t jump in with a string of questions about our so-called affair, bearing in mind most of my time over the past few days has been spent with them working on finishing touches to my deal.’
‘How am I supposed to know?’ Rosie retorted truthfully. ‘I didn’t stop to think things through.’
Impulse on that scale was unheard of in Matteo’s world and it was strangely refreshing to glimpse a life where variables were given a chance to survive. Not for him, and yet… ‘Well, we’re going to have to come up with some sort of plausible story or else the whole thing falls apart, and I’m not about to let that happen.’
‘Because of this deal you’re working on?’
‘I just need to get past the finishing line.’
‘Why?’
‘Come again?’
‘Why would a deal mean so much to you that you would go along with this charade instead of just calling me out? I mean,