14. Heaven
CHAPTER 14
HEAVEN
T he stage has been set, the contract signed, and my life sold.
I haven’t reached out to my father at all since the night of our sham engagement, even though he’s passed a few messages on to me through Matteo. I miss him, but no way can I speak to him. I’ll end up saying something I’ll regret because even after a week, the anger still festers deep in my gut.
There’s a very fine line between love and hate and right now, I don’t know where he falls.
I roll onto my side, letting out a deep sigh. I stare out the window at the sun peeking over the Manhattan skyline. The view’s amazing, but I don’t care.
I grab a pillow and press it over my head, groaning into it. It’s been a week since I’ve seen or spoken to my family, apart from Aunt Maura to arrange the transfer of my things to Matteo’s town house, and Patty, to see how he’s doing.
He was, of course, more concerned about me because he’s a good brother. He also feels hella guilty about his part in all of this. He believes that if he’d have been able to overtake those assholes who assaulted us in the park, Dad would have had more faith in us standing up against Dominguez and let me stay instead of marrying me off to Matteo.
I tried to convince him that it was way more than just us getting jumped, even though in the back of my mind I wonder the very same thing.
It doesn’t really matter now.
And then there’s Matteo.
We’ve been out a couple of times. We go to places to be seen together so that the entire underworld knows we’re really doing this and blissfully happy while we make our bullshit wedding arrangements. We traipse all over the place, Matteo always having an arm draped around me to sell the story. We peruse flowers, taste cakes, and visit venues, not that any of it will come to fruition.
I made it clear in my father’s office that first night that this wedding will be small. I’d like to not humiliate myself in front of a cast of thousands, thank you very much. The smaller the better, in my opinion. My family, his family, a few business associates.
Once we’re out of the limelight, he doesn’t touch me. Doesn’t make a move. And I’m grateful, even though every nerve ending stretches, waiting for the inevitable. And, dammit, I can’t shake the memory of that night in the club, when he touched me.
There’s heat in his gaze. And like it or not, it stirs something inside me, something that isn’t disgust, but a hunger for…I don’t know.
Not him.
I don’t like him.
I don’t trust him, but the man is hot, and women’s gazes devour him when we’re out. He works long hours, and he probably fucks whores when he’s not here.
The thought pisses me the hell off. After all, if I can’t get any, then why should he?
I swing my legs around the side of the bed and run my fingers through my hair. My fiancé doesn’t know it yet, but today is the day I set the agenda for our outing.
After a quick shower, I pull my hair into a slicked-back ponytail and dab some makeup onto my face, adding extra layers of mascara to make my eyes really pop. A little pink lip gloss completes my transformation, and it’s back to work I go.
Whether Matteo likes it or not. Or my father. Fuck them all to hell and back.
I gravitate to the kitchen, the scent of rich Italian roast wafting in the air. My mouth waters as I open a cabinet above the sink and grab a big white mug, filling it with the delicious coffee and then dumping in spoonful after spoonful of sugar.
I’ve tried Matteo’s espresso, but it’s too strong for me, and I always come back to this. A little cream and it’s absolute perfection. I blow on it gently and take a sip, letting out a low moan because it’s that good.
Matteo walks in wearing nothing but a pair of running shorts, the muscles in his chest glistening with sweat as he twists his baseball cap backward. I try not to stare but it’s difficult. I bite down hard on my lower lip. I don’t have to like him, but I can appreciate the male beauty of him. He’s strong, flavorful, and hot as hell. Just like my favorite coffee.
Minus the sweat.
But even that makes my belly flutter…
Oh, Christ. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten off. Ten days, to be exact, since his sex party.
And every time I think of what he did to me, I ache inside, my brain playing over every touch and stroke of his tongue, every single thing he stirred in me.
Matteo’s blue-eyed gaze locks with mine, and the air between us sizzles. “Like what you see, amore mio ?”
I take another sip of my coffee and glare at him from over the top of the mug. “No.”
“Liar. It doesn’t suit you, lying. It’s cowardly. I never took you for a coward.”
“You learn something new every day.”
He walks toward me. Slowly. Deliberately. Oh, fuck, he’s even better up close. I want to put my mouth against the skin of his chest and taste him, lick the salt of his sweat, the heat of his skin. I want to bite him, cause him pain, turn him on, make him?—
“You’re looking at me like you want me to fuck you. Do you want that, Heaven?”
“I said no.”
“Only with your mouth.”
He takes the mug from me, brings it to his mouth, and takes a swallow from the exact spot I drank from. He places it on the counter next to me and I’m caged by him, the heat of him radiating off his body and into my flesh.
“That tastes like shit.”
“I like it,” I say, licking my lips.
He locks on the motion with his gaze, and the fire in my belly flares. He lifts my chin with his hand and looks at me. “You’ve mostly healed. But you look better without that crap on your face.”
“Then it’s a good thing I don’t wear makeup for you, and that this is the twenty-first century. Women can vote now. They’re allowed to read. Think.”
His thumb strokes against my lower lip, and every nerve ending sings out for more. “I can work with that.”
And then he lowers his head, his mouth brushing mine.
It’s not much of a kiss, and it’s better than most sex I’ve had. It’s a promise, a tease, and it takes everything I am not to drag him toward me and devour him.
Matteo raises his head, eyes glittering as he watches me. I don’t know what he sees, but an almost-smile touches his lips, and then he kisses me again.
This time the kiss is longer, slower, and he sucks on my lower lip, his teeth sinking into it with just enough bite to make me moan for more. And he takes advantage of that moan. He slants his lips, his tongue sliding into my mouth and somehow, I’m kissing him back.
It deepens, and I’m swept up in a sea of sensation. The kiss is a song that caresses and devours, that teases and demands, and I’m lost in him, in the kiss. I run my hands over his slick skin, his muscles rippling under my fingertips. He’s pure dark magic, and I can’t get enough. All there is, is this—his mouth on mine, our tongues locked in a dance.
And then he breaks the kiss.
Everything crashes back to Earth, and it takes all I am not to reach behind me to grab the counter, even as my legs wobble and my head slowly spins.
I’m breathing unevenly and so is he. I make myself look at him. I expect to see the gleam of triumph in his gaze, but what’s there is deep and swirling, something I can’t quite read. Something, if he were another person, I’d think was shock and a rush of emotions he’s not ready for.
But this is Matteo Villani.
A man who does nothing without reason.
A dark, dangerous man, one who pulls all the strings.
A man I can’t trust.
“Well now,” he says, his rich voice soft. “That was unexpected.”
He steps away from me and starts to set about filling his espresso maker with fresh grounds, almost like it didn’t happen. Only the rise and fall of his chest gives him away.
Matteo isn’t as impervious to me as I thought.
But I can’t let myself go there. It doesn’t matter. What matters is this is the last place I want to be, and I’m only here to save my family. And if he wants to play it cool, then so will I.
“I was thinking maybe we could go to my old neighborhood today,” I say.
He looks at me as he presses the button on the coffee machine, and it hisses as it pushes the water through the grounds. “Why?”
I pick up my mug but don’t take a sip. I don’t want to put my mouth where his was. The kiss is more than enough to process, and my stomach is still fluttering wildly, my pulse points jumping in the aftermath.
“I may be here to be your wife, but I’m still going to work.” I glare at him.
His gaze darkens. “It’s not smart for you to be there right now. Dominguez won’t dare come for you here. But you’re fair game in your father’s domain.”
“I thought I’m marrying you to protect my family.”
“You are,” he says, picking up his small cup and taking a swallow of the thick black liquid with the crema, as he calls it, floating on the top. “And I am. But until the wedding happens, there’s always a chance he’ll make a move if your family is all together.”
“Then what good are you?”
“I’m the best chance you all have. You in particular, Heaven.”
I frown and slam my mug down. “You’re playing me. And my father. What are you up to, Matteo? This is meant to be you taking care of the problem for my family.”
He looks at me, all the passion from moments ago gone. In its place is the hard and dangerous man I know.
“If I was playing you, I’d do it in a way you wouldn’t notice.”
Something cold slithers down my spine. Why does that sound like he’s telling me something I don’t get?
“You’re an underboss, amore mio . You know how these things go, and while you may be young, you’ve grown up soaked in our life. Dominguez is dangerous, and he has a different set of rules. I’m working, and I’ve made inroads, gathering information, but you and all of your family in the same place is stupidity.”
“I’m going.” I know he’s right. And I know he’s not walking into Dominguez’s stronghold and laying down rules, but I also know Matteo is the enemy, too.
And he’s hiding something.
It’s there in his gaze.
After a few seconds, he nods. “We’ll go. But you don’t go into any meetings alone.”
“Oh, come on?—”
“Heaven,” he says. “You want the truth? I’ll give it to you. Dominguez is old school biblical in retribution. He’s not smart, and he lacks finesse. He likes to hit hard, everywhere. And he’s doing it. I’ve kept everyone safe for now, but you going into your old domain is a risk. He knows we’re together, but he doesn’t know Conor’s involvement. He’s hitting everyone, everywhere, and seeing who bites.”
“What are you saying?”
Matteo looks at me. “I’m saying my hands are mostly tied until he finds out the truth. He will. But until then, I keep you safe and our upcoming nuptials will keep him mostly at bay. You were attacked once, you don’t think that will happen again? Everyone in your family is being watched. I have word out the Mulligans will be part of the Villani family, and it’s working for now. But Dominguez will snatch any opportunity, and don’t think he doesn’t have eyes on your stronghold.”
He smiles and it’s humorless. Deadly. “Right now, amore mio, you’re the target.”