Chapter Twenty-Eight
Matteo’s entire body locked up. His eyes flicked to the door, measuring the distance so that he could stop her from running out of it if need be. He flexed his fists in his pockets and let out a long breath to control his raging heartbeat.
“What?”
“I don’t know, Matteo. I can’t focus.”
Genevieve turned away from him and he took a sharp step, thinking she was heading for the door. When she turned to walk toward his desk, he let out a silent breath of relief. She sat heavily in her chair. She covered her face with her hands again for a moment. He went to stand in front of her and leaned back against his desk. She sat back and met his eyes. She shook her head.
“We both know I can’t deny the fact that I’m attracted to you or that I might want more.” Matteo’s hammering heart stalled for one beat too long. Seeing his expression, she went on quickly. “But you were right when you told me I couldn’t afford to turn your offer down. My firm is depending on me. Without this account, we’ll go bankrupt.”
“The account is yours, Gen. I won’t retract it because you won’t go to bed with me,” he assured her.
“I know that… I think I know that. I’m a damn good worker Matteo and I’ve worked hard every day in order to get my business to this point. Now, I have to focus again to ensure we keep the lights on. I’ve been here for one day and I’m already so in my heart, my head doesn’t even stand a chance.”
“Where are you going with this, Gen?”
Gen licked her lips and fiddled with her hands in her lap. She took a breath for courage and met his gaze again. “I need to focus.”
“So you’ve been saying.”
“I need to focus so,” she continued, “I can’t have you knocking on my door at 1 o’clock in the morning. I can’t have you looking at me while I’m walking down the hall like you want to devour me. I can’t have you sending secret agents in to judge my value…”
“Did that fucker really say…”
Gen held her hand up. “I need you to put aside your urges and let me do the job you’ve hired me for.”
Matteo felt like he’d been punched in the gut. A flicker of hope wanted to emerge as she spoke only of her contracted time and not necessarily what came after. But what would happen when the six months were over? She would go back to Boston. He would be alone again. Matteo took in a deep breath. Gen’s face looked pinched as if she regretted saying anything. He loved that she could read him, yet he hated that he couldn’t hide anything from her.
“Okay,” he relented.
She sat back, startled. “Okay?”
He nodded. “I’ll back off. I won’t go to your apartment unless invited. I won’t touch you beyond normal courtesy. I’ll leave you alone to do your job.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“You’ll allow Leo to continue to guard you,” Matteo said with a firm edge to his voice. She looked down at her lap for a moment, considering. She nodded once before meeting his eyes again.
“Alright.”
“And…”
“Matteo,” she groaned.
“You’ll continue calling me by my first name when in private,” he said, his voice low and clogged.
“Why is that so important to you?” she asked, brow furrowed.
He shrugged and met her curious eyes straight on. “Only five people have ever called me by my first name. Two of them are dead. Two of them I never see. Even if it were never spoken again, I’d rather the last time be from your lips.”
Genevieve looked up at him in awe. “What is your end game here, Matteo? What is it you want from me?”
Matteo was taken aback. Of all the questions he’d mentally prepared for, this one brought him up short. Not because it was a particularly difficult question, but because he’d thought it was so obvious he never thought she’d need to wonder. She looked up at him with expectant eyes and if she hadn’t just given him a spiel about needing to focus, he would take her in his arms. He licked his lips and smiled. He shoved off his desk and braced his hands on either side of her chair.
“I want you, Miss Sinclair. Your happy moments, your biggest insecurities. The things that keep you up at night and the ones you wake up for. I want your body, your mind, your soul. I want to be completely devoted. I want you to be as consumed with me as I have been of you since the moment you offered me a light.” Genevieve’s eyes were hooded. Her lips were parted and her breath was escaping in short pants. “I want all of you. Simple as that.”
Matteo waited for her to reply, to give some sign she felt the same way or would be willing to throw out her desire to wait.
“What if I can’t give you that right now?” she asked, stabbing a dagger in his heart and twisting.
Matteo stepped back with shaky legs and leaned back against the desk once again. He shrugged. “I’ve told you what I wanted. I’ll respect what you want as well. For now.”
“For now?” she asked.
“I have six months.”
“For what, Matteo?”
Matteo smiled in answer. He stuck his hand out. “I’ll give you space so you can be the perfect accountant.”
Gen stood and smoothed her dress. She took his hand and he clenched it tightly, ignoring his instinct to pull her into his chest.
“I will put up with your insufferable body guard and call you by your true name,” she agreed.
They shook hands slowly and Matteo suddenly knew without a shadow of a doubt that these next six months would be as hard for her as it would be for him. Finally, unable to ignore every voice in his head screaming at him to not be an idiot, he pulled her hand just enough so she stumbled one step closer.
“Just so we’re clear…” His gaze locked with her lips before returning to the bright blue of her eyes. “Whenever you want to touch me in ways that are beyond normal courtesy… I give you my full permission.”
Genevieve smirked. Challenge flashed in her eyes. “Bet I can go longer than you.”
He chuckled. “You still need to work on that poker face, Sweetheart.”
“In your dreams.
“I’ll see you there.”
Gen finally managed to wrench her hand free of his. “Good night… Matteo,” she said with a sultry voice and a wink.
Matteo groaned. Genevieve walked from the room, taking with him his will to live. He shook his head and pulled his phone from his pocket. He dialed Frankie.
“Yo,” he answered. The sounds of the club echoed in the background.
“Pretty Boy Raphael is in town. Take him to a bar and get him drunk enough so he’ll sign up for a few rounds at the club. I am in need of a punching bag this evening,” Matteo said.