Matteo breathed deeply. What he was actually thinking was that if there was one thing all women had in common it was an obsessive wish to dissect the contents of a man’s mind. ‘I’m not thinking anything except how to get you downstairs quickly,’ he lied. ‘Here’s an insider tip—if a man tells you he’s thinking nothing then he’s genuinely thinking nothing. Men are not like women.’
‘And here’s another insider tip—’ her voice was high-pitched ‘—when a woman has spent two hours getting ready for an event she’s dreading it’s a good idea to say something positive!’
Matteo stilled. ‘You’re dreading it?’
‘I already told you that.’
‘Then why are you doing it?’
‘Because you asked me to! Now can we just go and get it over with?’
Because you asked me to.
Trying not to think about what emotion might drive someone to make that sacrifice, he made a belated attempt to smooth things over. ‘You look stunning.’
‘Too late. A compliment is meaningless if you have to be tortured before you say it.’ Without looking at him, she stalked towards the door.
‘You are completely overreacting!’ But he knew that he was entirely responsible for the sudden tension between them and the guilt intensified his dark mood. Trying to redeem the situation before a private disagreement became a public one, Matteo scanned the elegant cobalt sheath that curved into her waist and flared at the floor. ‘Truly, the dress is perfect, tesoro. Obviously you had a highly successful shopping trip.’
‘Actually, it wasn’t that successful. I started off in a couple of designer stores, but I have boobs and a bum which makes it hard to find anything that looks good.’ Her knuckles were white as she clutched her purse tightly. ‘A sales assistant told me in a very snooty voice that all the designer dresses look best on women whose bodies don’t interrupt the flow of the clothes. Evidently that’s not me. It feels nice on, but it isn’t by anyone famous or anything so doubtless there will be some fun headlines about that tomorrow. Can we just go? Honestly, the anticipation is worse than the reality, or at least I hope it is.’
Matteo realised just how much he was asking of her, inviting her as his guest to such a high-profile function.
‘Izzy—’
‘Please don’t say anything else.’ She pulled open the door and stalked out of the apartment even though she had no idea where she was going. ‘Let’s just get through this.’
Accustomed to women who thrived on events like this one, Matteo made a rapid adjustment and steered her towards a private elevator.
As the doors closed, offering them privacy, he reached into his pocket. ‘This is for you.’
She stared at the slim box in his hand. ‘So now you’re trying to buy your way out of trouble?’
‘I bought this before I got myself into trouble,’ he drawled. ‘It’s a gift.’
‘Why would you buy me a gift?’
Already struggling with his own behaviour, Matteo decided he didn’t want to think about why. Instead he flipped open the box. ‘I hope you like it.’
She gasped. ‘Oh—’
‘It’s a daisy chain. The petals are platinum and the centres are diamonds. Hopefully it will last longer than the real thing.’
She didn’t speak and he frowned.
‘Now what’s wrong?’
‘You had this in your pocket the whole time?’
‘Yes. I intended to give it to you earlier but you took a long time to get ready, which is fine,’ Matteo said
hastily, intercepting her warning glance, ‘because the end result was definitely worth the wait. You really are stunning.’
‘You chose this for me and it’s the most perfect thing anyone has ever given me. And I’ve been so snappy,’ she wailed. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t apologise for something that was my fault.’ Seeing the sheen of tears in her eyes, Matteo felt a flash of panic. Focusing on the practical, he fastened the necklace and then the matching bracelet. ‘It looks pretty on you. Do you like it?’
‘Love.’ She touched her throat. ‘Love, not like.’