Chapter 4
My heart sinks. Luke is taking things far too far. I tut vociferously and roll my eyes. ‘Oh, God. I swear there’s nothing going on.’
Matteo regards me intently. ‘Sure? That’s a long way to come for nothing to be going on.’
‘I’m sure,’ I say, hoping to God he believes me. ‘He’s making up some excuse that he’s here for work.’
‘Good,’ he says and takes a deep breath in. ‘I believe you.’
I visibly sag with relief. ‘That was easy.’
He gives me a sheepish look.
‘What?’ I ask.
He lets out a huge groan and rubs both hands down his face. ‘You’re not going to like this.’
‘Like what?’
‘My ex-girlfriend is here,’ he says, wincing. ‘She followed me to the airport in LA and just booked herself onto my flight.’
My jaw drops open. How many ex-girlfriends does this man have? Is the world littered with them?
‘Which ex-girlfriend?’
‘It’s Birdie,’ he says, exasperated as he rakes his hand through his hair. ‘She’s waiting in the limo. She’s… well, she’s a bit…’ I watch him struggle with what to say next. ‘She’s become a bit unhinged.’
‘Birdie has become unhinged? Why? How?’ What has happened between them? Did she twang her suspenders against the soft, creamy skin of her milky thighs once too often for him to resist?
Matteo shrugs. ‘She was the one who sent me the photo of you and… Luke kissing. She kind of follows you on social media. Like, obsessively. Alerts and everything. Sorry.’
Gah! I make a mental note to switch off the alerts I have set up for Birdie’s social media.
It’s my turn to ask the questions. Just in case he probes too deeply into what level of social media stalking is deemed unacceptable. I’d hate for him to lump me in with Birdie. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing going on between the two of you? I mean, she is French.’
Now all I can picture is Birdie lounging, topless, an arm flung above her head as she insists that Matteo does a Titanic on her.
‘Paint me, Jack. Paint me like one of your French girls.’ Or is it draw me?
Sketch me? Shag me? I’ll have to do an internet search for it when we get to the hotel.
But either way, in my mind’s eye, Birdie has her perfect, alluringly cruel, man-stealing breasts out on full display. Perfect cherry macarons.
Matteo smiles at me. Thankfully, he seems quite unaware of the horrified fascination I have developed with his ex.
‘Nothing is going on. She’s claiming she’s here for work purposes, too.
She’s meeting some new client who is huge, which puts me in rather a difficult position trying to keep her on-side, but really, it’s because she’s jealous. A bit like Luke, I guess.’
‘Well, then. Maybe we should introduce them to each other. They seem to have a lot in common.’
Matteo squints back over to where Luke is still hiding behind the pillar. He lets out another resigned sigh. ‘I’ll go have a word with him.’
I watch Matteo march forcefully over to Luke.
Luke appears startled. Even though Luke is taller and very expensively dressed, Matteo, in his shorts and T-shirt, has such a commanding presence and authoritative air that Luke instantly takes a step backwards.
I see the two of them talking. Luke is shaking his head.
Then he looks crushed. Then he hangs his head down and holds up his hands.
Now he seems to be getting a second wind, trying to negotiate, but Matteo is having none of it.
I realise I’m holding my breath; my whole body is tense, wondering what it is they are saying to each other.
And, finally, Luke glances guiltily in my direction before Matteo marches back towards me.
It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking. He seems neither pleased nor displeased.
But I hope this gives Luke the reality check he so obviously needs.
‘I’ve told him to leave us alone,’ Matteo says on approach.
My stomach does a flip. He’s so cool under pressure. So ‘no-nonsense’. So authoritative. Decisive. It’s incredibly horny to witness.
‘What did he say?’ I manage as a wave of lust rips through me.
Matteo tips his head to the side, a frown forming on his brow as he folds his arms. I try not to focus on the small round bulges that appear, straining against the fabric of his T-shirt.
I’ve always had a weakness for a toned bicep.
Especially a tanned one. ‘He said he’s here for work and nothing more because he already tried proposing to you and it didn’t work. ’
Ah. ‘It was meaningless. Such an empty gesture, as proposals of marriage go.’
‘And that you threw it back in his face.’
I did indeed. ‘He was being impulsive. Rash. It was all very on-the-spur-of-the-moment. It was nothing really.’
Matteo digests what I’m saying. ‘He said something about the two of you staying at York’s exclusive luxury five-star spa hotel. He thinks you turned him down because it wasn’t a grand enough gesture.’
‘Well, erm, about that… It’s not that the hotel wasn’t good enough, or that we were staying there together together. Well, we were. But in separate rooms because he lied. I forgot to tell you that part. He completely lied about the upgrade.’
‘Funny, because he also said you weren’t entirely truthful about not being single.’
Yes, the delay. How do I explain the delay in telling the truth?
‘And because of that, he developed feelings for you.’
Gah! ‘He’s just needy for attention. And I never told him I was single. I just didn’t tell him you and I were in a relationship… because I wasn’t sure if you thought we were exclusive or not.’
Lame. Very lame.
‘That’s not all. He thinks you’re destined to be something to each other, because he saved your life.’ Matteo is giving me an incredulous look. ‘Is that true? He saved your life?’
They sure covered an awful lot of ground in just a couple of minutes.
‘Ah,’ I say, embarrassed at how callous this is going to sound. ‘Yes. He did save my life. But that debt was repaid in full by me saving him from public embarrassment.’
Matteo raises his brow.
‘He got a massive boner on stage, which I hid with my skirt…’ Even to my ears, it sounds relatively disproportionate when said aloud.
‘But to be fair, the proposal was entirely cocaine-fuelled, and I’m pretty sure he was just after a solution to him having to make a political marriage of convenience.
I thought he was proposing a fake relationship. A fake marriage.’
‘Boner? Cocaine fuelled? Fake marriage?’ Matteo says, his jaw hanging open.
I’m really digging myself into a hole here.
‘Not me. Just him. He was very high. And drunk. Disgustingly drunk.’
‘When? Where?’ Matteo is beginning to look very concerned. He swivels round to see if Luke is still hiding, but he has gone.
‘In York. In the hotel’s private dining room.’
‘He sounds very out of order, Connie. He’s crossed a line. Several lines,’ he says firmly.
‘Yes.’ I gulp. ‘I just went along with it at the time because he said we needed to stay away from the press who’d been printing lies about us.’
Matteo sounds bewildered. ‘Lies? What kind of lies?’
I need to stop talking. He obviously hasn’t had time to read the articles. And I’m making myself sound very wishy-washy and not in control.
‘Just love-triangle sort of lies. And me being after Luke’s money because he’s very rich.
And me trying to infiltrate the House of Glucksburg because he’s Norwegian royalty.
And me ruining the Sinfonia’s reputation by encouraging everyone to behave as though they’re in a Jilly Cooper bonkbuster.
That sort of thing. Just gossipy headlines.
’ I blow out my cheeks. When put like that, I’ve had to deal with quite a lot over the past couple of weeks.
Matteo rubs his face with both hands, dragging them down his chin. He looks stern. He must think I’m batshit crazy. ‘Christ. As long as you’re okay?’
‘I am.’
‘You come with a lot of baggage, don’t you?’ He shakes his head. ‘Come on. You can tell me all about this love triangle when we get to the hotel.’
‘And Birdie?’ I ask. ‘What will we tell her?’
‘The same thing,’ he says. ‘We’re a couple.’ He gives me an intense look as though to say, Aren’t we?
I nod back, squeezing his hand tightly, as a goofy grin spreads across my face. We’re a bona fide couple!
‘Let’s get out of here,’ he says, just as a crowd of rowdy men dressed as cheerleaders sail past. ‘Everyone in this place is insane.’
‘Speaking of which…’ I say, nodding to the Dollz and Ged and Liam. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t pluck up the courage to tell you earlier.’
A faint chuckle escapes from his lips. ‘Ah, yes. You brought your yellow friends with you.’
I laugh. ‘Don’t even go there.’
‘Very happy not to.’ He pulls my hand and swirls me around Latino-style as I spin towards him.
‘Nice wig. Nice Barbie dress.’ He stares down at me.
Sparks crackle between us. His eyes roam my face before his lips meet mine.
The soft contact leaves me dizzy and in no doubt about how he feels as a riptide of passion engulfs us.
He breaks off, slightly out of breath and disoriented.
I unravel him. I can tell that he has no idea why we have such strong chemistry, but we just do.
He pulls me into him, one hand at the nape of my neck, the other round my waist, as he finds my lips once more.
This time I feel his tongue slide gently into my mouth, lightly caressing my tongue, joining us together.
I tighten my arms around his neck and send a quick thank you prayer to the universe.
After so many years of sadness, this thing we have brings me such joy, I can barely describe how other-worldly it feels.
We finally break apart, dazed. ‘Ready, Cenicienta?’
My Cinderella nickname from when we first met. My heart skips a beat. I blink slowly. I am so unbelievably far from ready.
* * *