Protecting What's Mine by Jennifer Sucevic

Author:Jennifer Sucevic [Sucevic, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-09-15T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

As I leave the Art History building at the university, my eyes catch on obsidian-colored ones. My feet grind to a halt as thick shards of awareness slice through me. No matter how many times I see him, my reaction is always the same.

Always instantaneous.

Matteo.

There’s no way him showing up here is a random coincidence.

First the Art Institute and now campus?

Unable to resist the urge, my eyes hungrily sweep over him. He really is gorgeous. How is it possible that every time I see him, he looks better than before? He’s dressed in another dark suit that fits him to perfection.

I glance around, realizing that I’m not the only one checking him out. Girls slowly walk by the bench he’s sitting on, trying to snag his interest. A group of five young women keep craning their necks to get a better look at him. They giggle while admiring him.

I can’t blame them.

Lord knows I was tempted to blush and giggle the first time I saw him. Instead, I gawked mutely in the elevator.

So embarrassing.

Matteo doesn’t pay the girls any attention, but I still feel jealous. His gaze stays fixed on mine. Realizing that I’m at a standstill, I scold myself for reacting like a deer in headlights and walk toward him. He stands as I approach him.

“Hello.”

Ignoring his greeting, I blurt, “What are you doing here?”

His broad shoulders straighten as if preparing for battle. “I came for you.”

Frowning, I shake my head. “How did you know I was here?”

Should this stalkerish behavior scare me?

Probably.

He always seems to know where I’m going to be and when.

How does he know this?

A better question would be- why does he know this?

“I was hoping we could talk. Maybe I can give you a lift back to the building.”

I hitch my leather messenger bag higher on my shoulder, holding it like a security blanket. “I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”

He takes a step toward me so that I have to crane my neck to hold his gaze. “That’s where we have a difference of opinion. I think we have a lot to discuss.”

Feeling more emboldened, I wave a hand dismissively in his direction.

People may not recognize him or know who he is, but based on his appearance and the way he carries himself, they know Matteo is someone powerful. He has a magnetic aura that draws you to him like a scrap of metal.

“Look, we slept together,” I say in a low voice to avoid giving the audience we have gained something to talk about. “It was nothing more than that. If you’re worried that it’ll be awkward running into each other in the building, don’t be. I’ve already moved on and forgotten about it.”

He doesn’t need to know that unbidden thoughts and images of him still flit through my mind several times a day.

Cocking his head to one side, he studies me until I fidget. Just as the weight of his gaze becomes unbearable, he says, “Really, bella? That’s a shame.

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