I didn’t miss a beat, leaning into him and whispering back, “You sure are aware of who’s staring at me.”
Nathaniel eyed Matteo warily, sizing him up. Matteo in turn leaned into me and kissed my neck, then my shoulder, and looked up to me with overly adoring eyes making tiny explosions of goosebumps overtake my body and my breath hitch. I was enveloped fully with that warm spiced cologne that Matteo favored. I hoped he never used another one. I wanted to drown in it. I tried to remind myself that I didn’t like Matteo, that I found him annoying and irritating and bothersome. That this was for show and he was making a point, staking his fake claim. I should be mad.
My eyes glanced up and out of the haze of Matteo this close to my body. Nathaniel scowled toward Matteo before slinking off, his ego in shreds on the marble floor.
As soon as he was out of sight, I elbowed Matteo. “Amore?”
He smirked. “I was improvising.”
I barely had time to exhale before Matteo’s still-too-warm hand rested on my lower back. A possessive touch that shouldn’t have made my stomach flip the way it did.
“I didn’t need saving,” I muttered, stepping slightly to the side. His palm fell away.
“Didn’t say you did,” he said, tone maddeningly casual. “But I wanted him to watch and suffer.”
I glanced up at him. Matteo’s profile glowed under the chandelier light—sharp jaw, annoyingly perfect cheekbones, hair pushed back in that ‘styled but not really’ way that screamed effortlessness. He looked good.Infuriatinglygood.
“I can handle Nathaniel.”
“I know.” He handed me a fresh glass of champagne from a passing tray, and then added with a little smirk, “Still. No harm in watching him squirm,Amore.”
My grip on the glass tightened. The word sank into my bloodstream like a shot of something warm and heady. He said it like it meant nothing, like it was just part of his charm, but the way it rolled off his tongue? Yeah. No.Nope.That was not allowed.
“You’re theworst,” I said with a forced sip.
“Not tonight,” he replied. “Tonight, I’m your hero in a tux.”
“And tomorrow you’ll be back to being the arrogant pain in my ass.”
He leaned in slightly, eyes gleaming. “Can’t I be both?”
Before I could reply, the music changed to something slower, strings and elegance pulling over the room like velvet. The dance floor began to fill. Couples swirled in practiced rhythm, all champagne-laced laughter and candlelit romance. I took another sip, just to avoid looking at him.
Matteo offered his hand. “Come on, dance with me.”
I hesitated.
“It’ll make Nathaniel jealous; he’s still watching,” he added, too smoothly. I looked over and saw that he was right. Nathaniel had moved but was glaring daggers at Matteo, and something thrilled inside me at the thought of making him miserable the whole night.
I never said I wasn’t petty.
I rolled my eyes, said pettiness winning out. “Fine. One dance.”
His hand wrapped around mine, warm and sure, and I didn’t know howonedance turned intothat—his palm pressed against the small of my back, our bodies closer than they should have been, the scent of his cologne clouding my thoughts.
I hated how well he moved. How we movedtogether. His hand shifted just slightly, his thumb brushing skin where my dress dipped low—and it was nothing.Nothing. Just a touch. A respectable touch at that. But my whole body reacted like he’d set a fuse to me.
“I thought you hated me,” he murmured near my ear, voice low, velvet and sin wrapped together in a way I’d never heard from him. My brain stuttered at it, and I tried to push through.
“I do,” I tried to pull back up my guard, lock my walls in, but then his thumb began moving in a painfully slow swipe across the skin on my back. It was a live wire to my core.
His chuckle vibrated against me. “Then why are you shivering under my touch?”
I didn’t have an answer. I wasn’t even sure Icouldpull away. But his touch left me, and he nodded toward the bar, giving me the option for a reprieve. I took it because God knew I needed another drink and maybe some fresh air before my body betrayed me into being attracted to Matteo. I tried to repeat to myself that he was a shameless flirt and had been a permanent annoyance since the start of season, but I couldn’t think much under the haze of his light touch.
The rest of the gala blurred after more drinks. I found myself laughing too easily at his regular teasing. He brushed a strand of hair from my face, and I swore his fingers lingered longer than they should. Our elbows touched at the bar. Our knees bumped beneath a cocktail table. He kept calling meAmorewith this soft smirk, loving that we had this little inside joke and I kept pretending I wasn’t letting it dig under my skin into places it shouldn’t reach.
We slipped away sometime past midnight. I don’t remember who suggested it. Or maybe we just drifted to a quieter space. The hallway was quiet and dim, the hum of the party fading behind thick walls and heavy doors.
