The Billion-Dollar Bride Hunt by Melanie Milburne
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EMMIEWASGLADthe rest room was empty so she could pull herself together in private. Matteo’s question had caught her off-guard, not because she hadn’t been asked such a question before—she had, many times, too many times to count. Her parents were the last people who would ever pressure her to produce grandchildren, because they knew she couldn’t. Nor could Natty, unless her condition was cured, and unfortunately, with every year that passed, that was looking more and more unlikely.
It pained Emmie every time she saw her mother’s wistful glance at a pram or a pregnant woman, or when she walked past a children’s wear boutique. Her mother was careful to do it covertly but Emmie had seen it enough times to know her mother grieved deeply for the shattered dream of one day holding her own grandchild in her arms.
It was why Emmie didn’t add to her mother’s grief by openly expressing her own sadness at not being able to have a baby. She pretended it would have been her choice to be childless regardless of her chemo-induced infertility. What good would it do to dump even more pain on her already overburdened mother? It wouldn’t be fair, nor would it achieve anything but inflict more emotional distress. Her cancer had taken so much away from her but it had also stolen so much from her family. The future they had once envisaged, the happiness and healthiness all of them had taken for granted until it was snatched away.
Emmie could no longer be the daughter her parents had once pictured as the mother of their future grandchildren. How, then, could she dare to picture herself as someone suitable for Matteo? It was an impossible dream. A fool’s dream.
Emmie finger-combed her hair, reapplied her lip-gloss and took a deep breath to compose herself. Spending time with Matteo Vitale was exciting, exhilarating and erotic, and yet he threatened everything she had worked so hard to finally accept in her life. She knew it was hypocritical of her to call out his fear of vulnerability when she was covering up her own. His laser-like focus, his forensically trained, sharply intelligent mind and his assiduous attention to detail were qualities she deeply admired in him, and yet they were the very qualities that most unsettled her. While she didn’t believe vulnerability was a weakness, her vulnerability was nobody’s business but her own.
And she intended to keep it that way.
The band had taken up position next to the dance floor by the time Emmie got back to the table. Matteo rose from his chair and held out his hands. ‘How about we try out those two left feet of yours?’
Emmie fought back a smile. ‘Are you wearing steel-toed shoes? Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
‘I have a high pain threshold.’
Emmie didn’t for a moment doubt it. He had lost his wife and child and, while he claimed not to have been in love with Abriana, he most certainly felt enormous guilt and sadness at the loss of her life and that of their child. It struck Emmie then how similar he and she were. Both dealing with deep personal sadness, pretending to everyone they were fine when they were not. They had each buried their sadness and carried on the best way they knew how.
Matteo led her to the dance floor, held her in the waltz position and began moving with her to the slow ballad. Emmie moved with him, a little surprised at how natural it felt, as if they had been dancing together for years. Three other couples joined them but to Emmie it felt as if she and Matteo were completely alone. His hand on the small of her back sent tingles down the backs of her legs. The fingers of his other hand were warm and gentle around hers. His navy-blue eyes held hers in a mesmerising lock, communicating a sensually charged message that made her skin tighten in anticipation.
‘You’re a natural,’ Matteo said, bringing her closer to his body, close enough for her to feel the impact she was having on him. It thrilled her to feel his reaction, the stirring of his body sending a hot wave of desire flooding through hers.
‘I don’t know about that. Maybe it’s because you’re such a good partner,’ Emmie said, gazing up at him.
His eyes darkened and dipped to her mouth and her heart missed a beat. Her words seemed to ring in the silence. Such a good partner. The perfect partner in so many ways. But her job was to find him someone, not to be that someone herself.
There was no way anyone could describe her as the perfect partner for him. She could not give him what he most wanted. He didn’t want love or even long-term commitment. What he wanted, needed, was an heir. There was no magic wand or benevolent fairy godmother that could ever bring that about for her. Her fate had been decided eight years ago, the day she had first been diagnosed with cancer.
Eight years ago...
And there was another similarity between her and Matteo. Eight years ago, his life had changed for ever when his wife and child had died in a car crash. The same year Emmie had been fighting for her life, his wife and child had lost theirs.
Matteo brought one of his hands to the small frown on Emmie’s forehead, smoothing it out with his finger. ‘So serious all of a sudden. Is something wrong?’ His tone had a note of concern.
Emmie gave a vestige of a smile. ‘I was just thinking that eight years ago we were both going through terrible times on opposite sides of the world. It’s kind of spooky how two strangers’ lives can intersect.’
Matteo brushed his fingers beneath her chin in a feather-light caress. ‘Have you heard the saying, “strangers are friends you haven’t yet met”?’
‘No, but I like it.’ She paused for a beat before asking, ‘Is that how you see me? As a friend?’
His eyes moved between hers for a pulsing moment, his expression inscrutable. ‘That’s what you like to be for your clients, isn’t it? The friend that facilitates a perfect match for them.’
Emmie sent the tip of her tongue out over her lips. ‘Yes, that’s exactly what I try to be. Someone they can rely on to be there for them, to help them identify and then push through the emotional barriers that have prevented them from finding love in the past.’
Matteo turned her away from one of the couples who were coming a bit close. His arms around her were strong and protective, the warmth of his body heating every tissue in hers. ‘Some people find love only to lose it. My parents, your parents, numerous others.’ His tone was more reflective than cynical, merely stating what he had observed.
‘I know, and it’s often the fear of losing love that prevents people from seeking it again.’ Emmie looked up at him again. ‘My mother is a case in point.’
‘You haven’t tried matching her with anyone?’
‘I mentioned it a couple of times but she was pretty adamant she was never going to get involved with anyone ever again.’ Emmie sighed. ‘It’s funny how I’ve been able to help so many people find happiness but I’ve not been able to do it for my mother and sister.’
‘What about your father? Has he got a new partner?’
Emmie twisted her mouth. ‘I’ve lost count of how many he’s had since he broke up with Mum. He seems to be in a new fling just about every month.’
‘Maybe he prefers to live his life that way.’
‘I guess, but I can’t help thinking he’s going to end up a lonely old man in the end.’
There was a lengthy silence as they continued moving about the dance floor.
‘We all make choices we have to live with,’ Matteo said and led her back to the table now the band had stopped their bracket.
And some of us don’t get a choice at all, Emmie thought with a deep twinge of sadness.
A few minutes later, Matteo led Emmie into his house and drew her into his arms, his mouth coming down on hers in a surprisingly gentle kiss. Emmie responded by linking her arms around his neck, leaning into his warmth, relishing in the proud rise of his hard male form against her. Her lips moulded to his, moving with the same perfect timing as their dancing had only half an hour ago. Their tongues met and danced a sexy tango that made her blood tingle and race through her veins. His hands went to her hips, pulling her closer to his hardness, a low, deep groan sounding in his throat that vibrated against her lips.
Emmie shivered as his mouth moved from hers to trail a scorching pathway of fire down the side of her neck from below her ear to the framework of her collar bone. His tongue grazed her sensitive skin, sending shooting sparks down her spine.
‘I want you.’ His blunt statement sent another thrill through her body, an electric thrill that made her inner core coil and tighten with lust.
Emmie licked her tongue along the fullness of his lower lip, a frisson passing through her as her tongue encountered the pinpricks of stubble below his lip. ‘Then have me,’ she whispered against his lips. ‘Because I want you too.’
Matteo pressed an urgent kiss to her lips, his tongue mating with hers in another erotic dance that made her heart race with excitement. After a few breathless moments, he led her upstairs to his master suite, loosening his tie with one hand as he walked her to his bed.
‘Here, let me help you with that,’ Emmie said, taking his tie in her hand and using it to pull his head down for another kiss.
Matteo groaned against her lips and she opened again to the silken thrust of his tongue, her body quaking with desire. He walked her backwards to the bed, only lifting his mouth long enough to dispense with his tie, tossing it to the floor. His mouth came back down on hers, firmer, with more passionate urgency, one hand going to the back of her dress and releasing the zip all the way to just above her bottom. Her dress slipped away from her like a sloughed skin, and his other hand stroked down the length of her back and then to the curves of her bottom.
Emmie set to work on his clothes but not with quite the same skill and efficiency. She was sure she heard a button on his shirt pop but she was beyond caring. She wanted him naked. Now.
Within a few moments, they were both naked, and Matteo glided his hands upward from her waist to cradle her breasts. She had never considered her breasts the sort that men would want to pay too much attention to, but right then, with Matteo’s dark blue eyes gazing at her small form, she had never felt more feminine and desirable. He bent his head to caress her right breast with his lips and tongue, making her almost delirious with lust. His tongue circled her nipple, then he took it in a gentle press between his teeth, releasing it to sweep his tongue around it again. He did the same to her other breast, sending shivers of reaction across her skin.
Matteo guided her to the bed, laying her down. He knelt one of his knees on the bed, his hands resting either side of her hips, a determined look in his eyes. A smouldering look she recognised all too well which sent a river of heat to her core. ‘This is all I’ve been thinking about this evening—tasting you, pleasuring you.’ His voice was gravel-rough and so deep she could feel it reverberating in her body as if an invisible wire tied her to him.
Emmie wasn’t capable of speech just then. Her anticipation was at fever pitch and, as soon as his mouth came to the heart of her female flesh, she shuddered in reaction. His tongue played her tender tissues like a maestro fine-tuning a delicate instrument, and she came apart in a rush that swept through her like a pounding wave.
Her gasps, cries and whimpers shattered the silence but she couldn’t suppress them...nor could she suppress the burgeoning feelings deep inside her. Feelings she had promised herself she wouldn’t feel for anyone, must less Matteo Vitale. Feelings that were like tiny fledglings perched high up in a nest, wanting to fly free but sensing the danger of doing so. She had to keep them in the nest. She had to secure the nest, reinforce it, concrete over the gaps so none of those feelings could escape.
They must not escape.
Matteo lay beside her on the bed once he had sourced and applied a condom. He ran his hand down the length of her body from her shoulder to her thigh, his gaze focussed intently on hers. ‘You are so delightfully responsive.’
Emmie could feel her cheeks warming. Had she been too loud? Too enthusiastic in her response? But how could she help it? He triggered in her such incredible sensations...such forbidden feelings. ‘You make it easy for me to respond. I didn’t know my body was capable of some of the things you’ve made me feel.’
He smiled and stroked his hand across her stomach, a lazy finger circling her belly button. ‘I could say the same about you...’ He bent his head and captured her mouth in a bone-melting kiss, the intimacy intensified by tasting her own essence on his lips. The kiss deepened and then he rolled her over so she was lying on top of him, his hands resting on the curve of her bottom, gently encouraging her to take control. ‘This way can increase your pleasure. You can control the pressure and depth.’
The one thing Emmie couldn’t control was the growing need for his possession—it was a tight ache inside her flesh, clawing at her with increasing desperation. She lowered herself onto him, shuddering with pleasure as her body wrapped around his steely length. It was erotic, excitingly erotic, and she didn’t shy away from it but moved in a perfect rhythm with him. The friction was electric, sending fizzing sensations through her flesh, exquisitely tightening her tissues until there was nowhere to go but off into the stratosphere. The orgasm hit her hard, rocking her to the core of her being, an explosion of sensation that rippled throughout her pelvis. She threw back her head, her hair wild about her shoulders, her cries of pleasure shockingly primal.
Matteo’s release followed on the heels of hers and she rode every pounding second of it with another wave of pleasure flowing through her flesh. The bucking and rocking of their joined bodies delighted her all over again. The intimate smells of their lovemaking, their perspiration and body essences overlaid with their colognes and hair products, mingled in the air like a bewitching vapour. Emmie collapsed over his chest, burying her head against his neck and breathing it all in, storing it into her memory.
Matteo stroked his hand down from her neck to the base of her spine and back again. Slow strokes that made her skin tingle and tighten in delight. She had not realised how gentle a man’s touch could be. Her first and only foray into sex as a teenager was with a partner who had rushed and, in his hormone-driven enthusiasm, had been a little rougher than she would have liked. There had been small moments of pleasure but nothing like she was experiencing with Matteo. The earth-shattering release he triggered in her was off the scale.
Matteo’s touch seemed to read her flesh like someone reading Braille. He sensed all her erogenous zones, seemed to know exactly what pressure and speed she needed to feel maximum pleasure. And she knew it would be a long time, if ever, before she experienced such pleasure with anyone else.
Matteo rolled her over so she was lying on her back, deftly disposing of the condom before taking her in his arms again. His eyes were dark and glinting, his hand coming up to cup one of her breasts. ‘I can’t get enough of you...’ He brought his mouth back down to hers in a skin-tingling kiss, his hand caressing her breast, at the same time sending her senses into overload. He raised his mouth from hers to gaze down at her again, one of his fingers moving in a slow caress along her bottom lip. ‘I have to go to Vienna next week for work.’ He captured her hand and brought it up to his mouth, his gaze unwavering on hers. ‘Come with me.’
Emmie was a little shocked at how much she wanted to go. But was it wise to keep spending time with him? Intimate dinners, dancing cheek to cheek, making love, staying in luxury hotels, as if they were a normal couple. Nothing about their relationship was normal. It never could be. ‘Matteo...’ She aimed her gaze at his neck. ‘I have a business to run and I can’t keep flying off to—’
‘Look at me.’ He tipped up her chin with his finger. ‘Tell me what your heart is telling you, not your head.’ His eyes held hers in a tight lock, his expression grave.
Emmie moistened her lips, her pulse suddenly unsteady. ‘My heart is telling me it would be dangerous to spend too much time with you. And my head is telling me exactly the same thing.’
He frowned heavily. ‘Dangerous in what way?’
She eased out of his hold and got off the bed, grabbing at his shirt in order to cover her nakedness. She slipped it on and did up a few of the buttons, her fingers barely able to complete the task. ‘I don’t want to blur the boundaries with you.’
‘We’ve stated the boundaries,’ he said, standing up from the bed and, unlike her, not seeming too bothered with his own nakedness. ‘We agreed on a short fling.’
‘I know, and I think the shorter, the better.’
He ran one of his hands through his hair from his forehead backwards, his expression a road map of tension. ‘Emmie...’ There was a grave note in his voice and he came over and took her by the hands. ‘The thing is... I think we could make this more than a short fling.’ He gently squeezed her hands, his eyes holding hers. ‘And I think you do too.’
Emmie pulled out of his hold and began to hunt for her own clothes. ‘We might be sexually compatible but that’s all.’ She found her knickers but couldn’t find her bra and pulled back the bed sheets to hunt for it. ‘Have you seen my bra? I can’t find it.’
‘Will you stop for a minute and listen to me?’ His frown carved a deep trench between his eyes.
She scooped up her dress and wriggled back into it, twisting her arm behind her back to pull up the zipper. ‘I think it’s time for me to go home. I’ll call a cab.’
‘I’m not taking you anywhere until we’ve talked.’ Matteo pulled on his trousers and zipped them up. ‘We are more than sexually compatible. I enjoy being with you. I haven’t enjoyed someone’s company as much as yours before. I’ve talked to you in a way I have never communicated with anyone else.’
Emmie shoved her feet into her shoes. ‘It’s my job to make you feel comfortable talking to me. You’re reading way too much into it.’
‘Are you saying it’s all contrived? That you tell everyone all the things you told me about your cancer and your sister and your parents’ divorce?’
‘Not everyone, but you’re a good listener.’ Too good a listener. Emmie had told him nearly everything. Shared so much that it was hard to imagine a time in her life when she wouldn’t be able to talk to him any more.
He took her hands once more, his fingers wrapping around hers in a gentle but firm hold. ‘Why do I get the feeling you’re pulling away from me? Not just physically, but emotionally?’
Emmie painted a false smile on her lips. ‘You’re the one who doesn’t talk about emotions in relationships, remember?’
Matteo brought her a little closer, the warmth of his body reminding her painfully of the cold reality of her situation. ‘But I’m talking about them now. I’m asking you to marry me, Emmie. I know you said you didn’t want to marry but we could make a go of it. I know we could. We’re well suited. You surely can’t deny it?’
Emmie wrenched her hands out of his and moved out of his reach, hugging her arms around her middle. ‘Please don’t do this...’ She could barely speak for the anguish rising in her throat. ‘We could never be happy.’ How could she ever make him happy when she couldn’t give him an heir? They might have a great sex life together but how could that ever be enough for a man who needed a wife and heir so badly? She would only hurt him the way she had hurt her family.
‘Are you crazy?’ Matteo asked in a disbelieving tone. ‘Every minute I’ve spent with you has shown me just how happy we could be. I care about you in a way I have never cared about anyone else.’
‘You’re not saying you’re in love with me?’
His throat moved up and down and a shutter came down in his eyes. ‘I’m saying I want to be with you for longer than a fling. I want us to marry and have a family. Not just because of my father’s will—although it’s part of it, of course—but because you and I make a great team. I know we can make a good life together.’
Emmie raked one of her hands through her hair, her heart threatening to split in two. Pain spread throughout her chest, sending its stinging tentacles to every region of her body. ‘Matteo... I can’t marry you. It wouldn’t be fair to you.’
‘Look, I know my proposal is not the romantic declaration of love most women want, but—’
‘It’s got nothing to do with your proposal,’ Emmie said. ‘Nor is it because you’re not in love with me...or me with you.’ Not quite true. She was more than halfway to being in love with him. Her feelings for him had developed robust wings and were desperate to fly free. But she would clip those wings so they couldn’t.
‘Then what is it?’
Emmie met his gaze. ‘I can’t marry you because I am unable to have children.’
