The Billion-Dollar Bride Hunt by Melanie Milburne

CHAPTER EIGHT

MATTEOHADMADElove to many women over the course of his adult life, but none had stirred his senses quite like Emmie Woodcroft.

Waking to find her sitting on his bed had turned his nightmare into a dream he knew he wouldn’t mind revisiting every night. Her taste was on his tongue, her touch lighting fires over every inch of his skin, his need for her a pounding ache in his groin. He stroked the slim length of her thigh as he deepened his kiss, delighting in the way she whimpered in encouragement. Her legs were tangled with his, her hands playing with his hair in little tugs and caresses that sent tingles racing down the backs of his legs.

‘Don’t make me wait any longer...’ she whispered the words against his lips.

Matteo needed no other inducement and he parted her folds and entered her with a deep groan of pleasure as her slender body gripped him like a fist. He tried to go slowly but her gasps and movements of approval made holding back impossible. He drove into her with increasing speed, going deeper, harder, the primal lust taking control of him like never before. Sensations rippled through him, the delicious friction of her body driving him wild.

He slipped a hand between their rocking bodies, wanting to share this moment of pleasure with her. She was wet, swollen and sweetly fragrant and his senses were intoxicated, drugged, dazed by her. She gave a whimpering cry and arched back sinuously, like a cat, her body quaking, shaking with release. Matteo knew he couldn’t hold on much longer. Her body was triggering his with its rippling contractions around him.

He snatched in a breath and then expelled it in a harsh-sounding groan as he finally let go, his scalp tingling, his spine melting, his body shuddering from head to foot with the earth-shattering, planet-spinning pleasure that rocked through him.

Matteo slumped over Emmie in the aftermath, his breathing still ragged, his senses still spinning from a passionate encounter unlike any he’d had before. It was physical pleasure at its finest and, although he’d had plenty of sexual pleasure in the past, something about making love with Emmie had taken it to a whole new level of enjoyment. The cynic in him wanted to point out he hadn’t had a lover for a couple of months. His father’s death and Matteo’s stress over the terms of the will had not exactly been a climate in which to seek a casual lover.

And that was all Emmie wanted to be—a casual lover. The sort of lover he had only ever sought and the sort of lover she only wanted to be—or so she said.

But another less cynical part of him wanted to understand why this encounter with Emmie had been so off-the-charts fantastic. What was it about her that spoke to his flesh and made it wild with lust unlike any he had felt before? Was it simply that breaking his recent sex drought had upped the impact on his senses?

Emmie’s hands stroked over his back and shoulders and Matteo shivered in reaction. Her touch was like silk against his skin, soft and gentle, and yet it created a tumult of sensation in his flesh. Electric sensation that made him want her all over again.

Matteo eased away from her to dispose of the condom and then came back and propped himself up on one elbow, gazing down into her pleasure-riven features. ‘You left me speechless,’ he said with a wry smile.

Her periwinkle-blue eyes sparkled. ‘Well, that’s only fair, since you did the same to me.’

Matteo trailed a lazy finger down between her breasts. ‘When was the last time you had a lover?’

Twin spots of colour bloomed on her cheeks and her smile faded, her gaze lowering to stare at the juncture of his collar bone. ‘Why are you asking?’ A note of self-doubt crept into her voice. ‘Did I act like a novice or something?’

He tipped up her chin to mesh her gaze with his. ‘No, not at all. I just wondered, that’s all.’

‘How long since you slept with someone?’ She threw his question back at him with a challenging light in her eyes.

‘Couple of months.’ He didn’t tell her the rest—that since his wife and child had died his forays into casual dating hadn’t started until a full year after Abriana’s death, and only sporadically since then.

Emmie ran the tip of her tongue across her lips and her gaze fell away again from his. ‘Well, I’ve had a bit longer between drinks, so to speak.’

‘How long?’

Her teeth began to chew her lower lip. ‘I’m too embarrassed to say...’

He bumped up her chin again, locking his gaze on hers. ‘Don’t be.’

Emmie gave a self-deprecating grimace. ‘I haven’t had sex since I was a teenager.’

Matteo went completely and utterly still. It was as if every muscle and sinew in his body had been snap frozen. Not since she was a teenager? How could that be? She was an attractive young woman with the same sexual needs as any full-blooded man. Had something happened to her? A sexual assault? Rape? The possible scenarios were ugly, and his gut roiled at the thought of someone abusing her. ‘But why on earth not? Did you have a bad experience? Did someone hurt you or...?’

She picked at the edge of the sheet with her fingers, her gaze seemingly unwilling to stay connected to his. ‘After I came out of hospital, I felt completely out of step with my peers. I’d stared down death, faced my mortality and dealt with issues most people only face decades later. I couldn’t relate to my friends any more. The guys seemed so immature to me, like boys instead of young adult men. The girls weren’t much better, although to be fair a couple of friends tried hard to relate to me, but with all the stuff going on at home with my parents and my sister... It...it got too difficult...’

Emmie brought her gaze back up to his and continued, ‘I decided to concentrate on my business instead. The only dates I was interested in were other people’s. I didn’t consider myself a very sexual person until...’ Her cheeks were tinged with a faint shade of pink.

‘Until now?’ he offered.

Emmie gave a wry smile. ‘Yes, well, you do have a way of making a girl feel pretty amazing, but no doubt that’s because you’ve had loads and loads of practice.’

Matteo coiled a strand of her silky hair around his finger. ‘Sex is not always this good.’

Her eyebrows rose ever so slightly. ‘Are you saying you found it amazing too? I mean, more amazing than usual?’

‘Why are you so surprised?’

She gave a shrug of one slim shoulder. ‘I just thought... I don’t know... I’ve just never seen myself as the sort of woman a man would feel particularly attracted to. Or at least, not enough to have earth-shattering sex with.’

Matteo pressed a brief kiss to her soft mouth. ‘I’ve been fighting my attraction to you from the moment I met you.’

A smile flickered across her lips but it didn’t travel the full distance to her eyes. ‘That’s not going to help your mission to find a wife, though, is it? I’m a distraction you don’t really need right now.’

‘Maybe I want to be distracted.’ Matteo brought his mouth to the side of her neck where her skin was soft and fragrant, sending his senses into mayhem. Would he ever forget the fragrance of her skin? The soft silk of her body lying against his? The hot, tight grip of her feminine muscles around him?

‘Maybe I want to forget all about my father’s will and enjoy this moment instead.’ Matteo wasn’t a live-in-the-moment person by nature. He was organised, a planner, his time was structured and never a minute wasted.

But right now, all he wanted was to forget about the clock ticking on the timeline of his father’s will and indulge his senses with the most responsive lover he had ever bedded. Besides, his plan to suggest Emmie become the wife he needed was still in place. He was biding his time—the little time he had—because he wanted to wait until he was sure she would say yes.

Emmie murmured under his caresses, her slim body moving against his with enthusiasm. ‘I think you’re the one doing the distracting,’ she said with a breathless sigh as he placed his mouth to her soft breast. ‘I can’t think straight when you do that.’

‘I don’t want you to think,’ Matteo said, rolling his tongue across her tightly budded nipple. ‘I want you to feel.’ He circled his tongue around her nipple and then gently took it between the soft press of his teeth. She gave a soft moan and ran her hands down his abdomen to caress his erection. Hot, dark need thundered through his flesh, a need so intense it made every cell in his body throb.

And then, it was Matteo who couldn’t think straight. Primal desire drove every thought out of his mind and he gave himself up to the sensual heaven of her touch...

Emmie woke early with one of Matteo’s arms flung across her tummy. He was soundly asleep, his hair tousled from where her fingers had clawed through it last night in the throes of mind-blowing sex. She gazed at him for a long moment, memorising every feature of his face. The dark shadow of stubble that was sprinkled across his jaw and around his nose and mouth. The leanness of his face. The chiselled jaw bone. The prominent eyebrows and the permanent trench between them that, right now, was not quite as deep. In sleep he looked more relaxed, younger, less serious, less burdened.

As much as Emmie longed to reach out and stroke him awake, she kept her hands to herself. She knew she had crossed a line by sleeping with him and, while she could never regret the experience of making love with him, she had a job to do, and indulging in a fling was not going to achieve anything but waste his valuable time. Not to mention stirring up a host of longings she had locked away many years ago. But those longings would have to shut the hell up and get back into the vault she had constructed for them and stay there.

Emmie carefully eased out of the bed and slipped on her wrap but in her effort and haste not to wake Matteo, she was unable to find her nightgown. She went back to her own room to give herself a moment to reflect on what had happened during the night. She straightened her barely slept in bed, fussing over the pillows, tempted beyond measure to go back to Matteo’s room and enjoy the magic of spending more time in bed with him. But when she reached down to unplug her phone from the charger by the bed she noticed a text message from her mother.

Natty back in hospital.

Emmie’s heart sank and guilt washed over her. Her sister’s illness was a reminder of how much suffering her own illness had caused to her family and it only reinforced her decision to steer clear of intimate relationships.

And, as timely reminders went, it was certainly bang on time.

Emmie quickly typed a message back, assuring her mother she would be back as soon as she could to offer support. The same support she had been offering for years—hoping, praying, that this time Natty would move a step closer to conquering her illness. The mortality rate from anorexia was the highest of any other mental disorder, a fact that never left Emmie’s thoughts. Natty had been in and out of hospital for years, in fact she had spent more time in hospital than Emmie, which seemed ironic under the circumstances.

Ironic and sad, not to mention guilt-inducing.

How could she stay a minute longer with Matteo in Umbria when her sister was fighting for life in hospital? Knowing that, while she was in bed with Matteo Vitale—a client, no less—her mother had been shouldering the burden of her sister’s mental health crisis? A crisis that Emmie had caused by becoming ill in the first place. She was doing something she had told herself she never would do—putting her happiness before her family’s.

How could she have been so selfish to cross a boundary she had sworn never to cross? Her body still hummed with the pleasure Matteo had evoked. She suspected it would last for days, weeks—maybe for ever. How would she ever forget the magic of his touch? The mind-blowing orgasms that had shaken her from head to toe? The stroke and glide of his hands on her skin, the pressure of his mouth, the taste and texture of his lips, the heat and hardness of his possession?

Emmie slipped her phone in her tote bag and quickly dressed. She left her overnight bag by the door, planning to pick it up once she collected her nightgown from Matteo’s room, having only taken her wrap earlier. She told herself it was because she loved that nightgown, it was too expensive to leave behind. But another part of her knew it had more to do with her wanting to see him one more time.

He was still sound asleep and she stood looking at him for a moment or two. Then, with a silent sigh, she bent down to scoop her nightgown off the carpet close to the end of the bed. There was a rustle of bed linen and the sound of Matteo’s hand scraping over his stubbled jaw. ‘You’re up early,’ he said. ‘Going somewhere?’

Emmie turned to face him, stuffing the nightgown into her tote bag. ‘I have to go back to London today.’

His frown deepened and he tossed the sheet aside and stood, and it took every bit of willpower she possessed not to lower her gaze to the perfection of his male body. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘My sister is unwell. She’s been admitted to hospital. I have to get back to support my mother.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ He stepped into his jeans and zipped them up, then came over and took her by the hands. ‘Give me half an hour and I’ll come with you.’

Emmie pulled out of his hold. ‘No, that’s not necessary.’ She straightened her tote bag across her shoulder and gave him a tight smile. ‘My goal in coming here to see you in your own environment was to get to know you better. I think I’ve achieved that, and so now I need to get back to the job you’re paying me to do. Finding you a wife.’

Matteo’s face froze as if every muscle had been paralysed. He stared fixedly at her for a long moment. ‘Thank you for taking the trouble to come.’ Somehow Emmie suspected there was a double entendre lurking in his curt response.

‘Thank you for having me.’ Two could play at that game. ‘Will you thank Valentina for me? It was a lovely meal last night.’ Emmie moved towards the door. ‘I just have to get my overnight bag from my room... I’ve already packed.’

Would the housekeeper be surprised that Emmie hadn’t spent the whole night in the room she had prepared for her? Or perhaps Valentina was used to a bit of female-guest bed-hopping. No doubt Emmie wasn’t the first woman Matteo had bedded here. He was a virile man in the prime of his life—every intimate muscle in her body could vouch for that.

‘I’ll take your bag down for you,’ Matteo said in a firm tone that quickly dispensed with any notion of her arguing with him.

‘Fine. That’s...kind of you.’

A short time later, Matteo carried Emmie’s bag down to her hire car and placed it in the boot. He knew she had a valid excuse for leaving earlier than he had expected, but it still niggled him that she might have decided to leave early in any case. She had planned to stay three days and was leaving after only one. How could he not feel short-changed, especially after last night? He’d been looking forward to spending more time with her, and not just in bed. There were things he wanted to show her on the estate, and he wanted to tell her some of the history of the place that went back centuries.

He opened the driver’s door for her, aching to touch her before she got behind the wheel, but somehow summoning up the self-control not to. The lines of their ‘relationship’ were blurry enough. Maybe this was the right way to go—let her leave without any hint of regret on his part.

It stirred a memory of the day his mother had left. But back then he had bawled and begged her to stay, his gut had hollowed out, his chest so tight, as if a clamp had been on his ribs, his eyes streaming, nose running, hopes fading. But, of course, his mother had not changed her mind. She had driven away down the driveway without once looking back.

‘Drive safely,’ Matteo said, closing the door for Emmie.

She started the car and pressed the button to lower the window. ‘I’ll be in touch with some potential dates. And I should have your personality profile results back early next week. That will make things a lot easier.’

He arched one eyebrow. ‘What? You don’t know me well enough by now?’ He injected his tone with a hint of mockery.

A flicker of something passed across her face, and then her lips pressed together. ‘Thank you again for your hospitality.’ Her voice was as polite and formal as a robot’s and just as impersonal.

Matteo stepped back from the car and turned back to the villa. He was damned if he was going to watch her drive away.

But he would see her again. He would not leave things so up in the air between them, not after last night. Emmie was upset about her sister and needed some time to be with her family. But, once the time was right, he would present her with a proposal she could not possibly refuse.