MATTEO (Dance with the Devil 1) by Carole Mortimer

Author:Carole Mortimer [Mortimer, Carole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carole Mortimer
Published: 2020-06-26T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

“So you see, Mr. Darcy, I really had no choice but to leave.” Grace sat in one of the armchairs in the lounge of her apartment, stroking her purring ginger tabby cat behind his ears. She had changed out of the green dress she’d worn to the wedding reception earlier, and into loose gray sweats and a white vest top, leaving her feet bare. “I just wish it didn’t hurt so much,” she added forlornly.

If she was expecting any other response from her cat other than his loud purr, which certainly wasn’t in tune with her feelings of melancholy, then she was out of luck.

How could she have fallen for Matteo so quickly and so deeply?

So much so that she had put the life she’d carved for herself in jeopardy just to see and be with him again.

It didn’t make sense to Grace. None of it did. This magnetic pull he seemed to hold for her. The way she melted the moment she was close enough to breathe in his unique scent of aftershave and musk. How, it seemed, he had only to touch her for parts of her body to either swell or grow wet in arousal.

As she had when they danced the tango together.

God.

She had never experienced anything like the physical oneness as the two of them danced together in such total accord. She could have come just from the heat blazing between them.

She sighed heavily as, bored by her distraction, Mr. Darcy stood up and jumped lightly to the floor before walking away, tail haughtily high in disgust at her lack of attention. She—

Grace tensed, every part of her on high alert, as the intercom bell rang in her apartment. Then rang again. And again. Before it rang continuously as someone obviously kept their finger on the button downstairs.

And Grace had a feeling she knew exactly who that someone was.

Who it had to be, because she didn’t tell people where she lived, let alone have a group of friends, or even a single friend who might call round to her apartment, invited or uninvited.

But she had allowed Matteo to drive her home from the store on Friday evening so she could feed Mr. Darcy before they went out to dinner.

Which meant it now had to be him standing downstairs with his finger on the intercom button to her apartment.

What should she do?

If she didn’t answer, would he, in time, just go away?

Did she want him to do that?

A sob caught in her throat as she hurried over to the intercom system in the kitchen to press the reply button. “Yes?”

“Open this fucking door, Grace, before I kick the damn thing— Good choice,” Matteo muttered when she pressed the button to unlock the door into the building. “I really hope you have a good excuse for—”

Grace cut him off by taking her finger off the receive button.

She stepped back, her heart pounding as she gripped her hands tightly together in an attempt to stop them from shaking. Matteo had sounded…furious.

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