Rook of Ruin (Rook of Ruin #1)

Chapter 1

Falling head over heels in love has been like someone throwing surgical gloves at me, out of the blue, expecting me to try my hand at a kidney transplant.

It’s exhilarating and nerve-wracking at the same time, but I’m giving it my best go because Matteo is the most excessively attractive man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

And it is essential that I make a decent impression before he realises that I am not naturally good at this.

Be casual, Connie Cooper. Be cool.

‘You know what they say about watching people while they sleep?’ Matteo says, opening one eye. I am sharing his pillow and borderline stalking him with my face.

A giggle escapes from my lips. I will never tire of waking up next to this dreamboat. ‘Stop making it sound weird. I’ve only been watching you for the last two and a half hours.’

Matteo laughs gently as he places a light kiss on my lips.

‘What a week,’ I say, sighing blissfully. It seems like only yesterday I was spilling scalding-hot coffee on his crotch. It has been nothing short of a wild rollercoaster. This whole week in Benidorm has flown by. I hope he feels the same.

Matteo frowns playfully as though this has been the longest week in living memory. ‘I thought it would never end.’

Not exactly what a loved-up woman wants to hear.

Although, he has a point. I have developed an unattractive habit of bringing chaos to his otherwise calm and ordered life.

And I’m gutted that we have only just discovered each other and are being forced apart so soon.

But it is very early days. I must not appear too insecure or needy, just because I’m going to miss literally everything about him; everything.

I give him big cow eyes, causing him to smile back at me.

He’s smitten with me. It’s written all over his lovely face.

‘I can’t believe you’re leaving for LA,’ I say, stroking his cheek while I admire the strong line of his jaw, the dark stubble on his chin, the kissable lips. He is literally the Oxford Dictionary definition of gorgeous. ‘Three months is such a long time to be away.’

‘I can’t believe you’re flying back to the UK today,’ he says, a trace of sadness in his voice.

‘But it’s great that you get to tour with the Royal Northern Sinfonia.

That’s a huge deal. I’m going to miss you singing cheap covers in Voices, though,’ he jokes softly.

He is trying to hide how unfair the timing feels for us. ‘It won’t be the same without you.’

I should hope not. Poor man. So far, I have broken his phone, given him a black eye, and almost ruined his business – all by accident.

My week-long marathon of incredible personal growth and off-the-scale sexual awakening has been really tough on him.

And to be fair, he has seen sides of me that not even I was aware of.

I love that he has faith in me to sing classical music with a world-class orchestra. And I love that he is going to miss me. I walk my fingers up his bare chest. ‘I’m really going to miss your expert approach to successful leadership, fiscal planning and dealing with the emergency services.’

None of us are going to forget that yacht fire in a hurry.

Or the way he took charge when handcuffed to me against his will, while in the middle of running a huge music festival.

Or indeed, the way he proved himself to be the manliest of men when he politely pretended not to hear me yelling angrily at the universe, sobbing hysterically in the shower or demonstrating quite the unprofessional flop several times before going on stage.

‘I hope that’s not all you’re going to miss, Cenicienta,’ he says, giving me a look that sends a delicious shiver straight through me.

I have fallen very hard and very fast for this glorious man.

And this Cinderella nickname seems to be sticking, but I really don’t mind because it’s how I feel.

Elated and joyful and bursting with desire.

‘Well, let me give you something to remember me by.’ I’ve also recently discovered that I can be nothing short of a brazen hussy when I’m with him.

His eyes widen with desire, filling me with immediate delight.

I have never considered myself sexy, but he effortlessly brings it out in me with a simple look, a simple smile.

I chew my lip, slide the cover slowly from his body and take my time deciding how to drive him wild with passion.

I trail my fingers lazily down his chest and hear his breath catch as they circle his lower abdomen.

He closes his eyes and presses his head into the pillow, a low groan escaping from his lips.

I find his attraction to me intoxicating.

How are we meant to survive without each other for three whole months?

* * *

A surprisingly short while later, Matteo can barely speak coherently.

I should insist on a performance review, what with me being so new to it all, but so far, sex with me seems to be going very well.

He is staring up at the ceiling as though in an artificially induced coma.

I poke him to make sure I haven’t done any lasting damage.

‘What did you just do?’ he whispers, which sends a wave of tingles up my spine.

‘That was incredible.’ He gets out of bed and promptly trips over the rug. ‘Christ, my legs feel like jelly.’

‘Is that a good thing?’ I ask, beaming happily at him.

He fixes me a terrifyingly sexy look as he slowly nods his head.

Oh, my.

My phone pings. It is my best friends and live-in housemates-come-therapists, Ged and Liam, who rushed here to Benidorm a couple of days ago to support my rather huge and, as it turned out, completely unnecessary meltdown over Matteo being engaged to be married – which he isn’t.

Luckily, the whole misunderstanding was cleared up quickly and Ged and Liam are more than delighted to be staying in my luxurious room over at the villa with the Dollz.

Which means more privacy for me and Matteo in my newly acquired apartment above Voices.

I decide not to read the messages in favour of following him into the shower cubicle.

I press up against him and trace the lines of his shoulders and arms with my fingers.

It sends a shiver through him, causing his lips to part.

He studies me silently, his eyes telling me everything.

He wants me. And I want him. He inhales sharply, causing me to instinctively press my hips against him even more.

We are insatiable for each other. As the water cascades gently down, he reaches out to brush the hair from my face.

He strokes my lips with his thumb before trailing the back of his fingers down my neck, down, down to graze the outside of my breast. It sends a pulse of electricity right to my toes.

He slips his hands beneath my bottom and gently lifts me up to straddle his waist as though I weigh nothing at all.

His eyes blaze into mine as I gently rock against him, our bodies slick with soapy suds.

He keeps one hand on the shower wall to steady himself as he expertly cups me with the other.

Our kiss deepens as his tongue slides into my mouth, causing me to moan loudly.

I tangle my fingers in his hair, kissing him back with a passion I have never felt before for any man in my entire life.

The chemistry between us is crazy. My head is spinning as all too soon we are free-falling over the edge into shuddering ecstasy.

We have all of two seconds to revel in this delicious miracle before we are interrupted.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

‘Oh no! That’s the minibus!’ I wail, pulling my mouth away from his. Trust the Dollz and Ged and Liam to be punctual for once. ‘It must be time to go to the airport.’

I feel an overwhelming melancholy sweep through me, while Matteo is quicker to snap out of his loved-up haze as we untwine our soapy limbs.

‘It’s not for long,’ he says in a soothing voice. ‘We can FaceTime every single day if you want.’

I nod. He’s such a busy man, though. I know for a fact that he has gone to extreme lengths just to fit me in as it is. He won’t be able to keep his promise, but I appreciate the gesture.

As I reach behind me to turn off the water, Matteo grabs a towel and wraps it around me.

I should broach the delicate subject of labelling our relationship.

He is jetting off to LA for a few months to work and to be bossy and successful, and I am desperate for some understanding around being exclusive even though we have essentially just met.

If it were down to me, I’m sure I’d marry him this afternoon round the back of the bins, but seeing as I’m technically the rebound after his dreadful ex cheated on him, I’d like to know his view on it all.

Only a few days ago, he made it abundantly clear that he is not looking to rush headlong into a relationship seeing as he is so fresh out of such a long-term commitment and painful split.

I look up into his dark, kind eyes and instantly melt. I can feel every emotion running through him as though he’s trying to transfer them to me, and I want to savour this memory forever. ‘I’ll miss you,’ is all I can manage.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Christ Almighty. I need to get a move on.

We throw on our clothes and grab the cases, all but hurling them down the stairs in our hurry to get outside.

Jorge, the bus driver, gives us a nod of acknowledgement.

My support band and best friends are all scattered around waiting.

They are nearly all smoking cigarettes or vaping, and getting some last-minute sun on their faces.

There is no time to have the ‘exclusivity’ discussion. It will have to wait.