The Italian Billionaire's New Year Bride

Matteo leaned back against the wall. He’d never really thought about the library at all. He hadn’t had any interest in it as a five-year-old—he’d been much more excited by the tennis court and swimming pool in the grounds of the house. But the enthusiasm brimming from Phoebe was almost infectious. He walked over and ran his hand across the spines of some of the books. The library had that old-world sort of smell. The kind you either loved—or hated.

Most of the books looked like encyclopedia-style volumes. He gave a smile. “Remember the world before the Internet, when you actually had to go to a library and search in a book when you wanted to find out something?”

Phoebe nodded. She was staring at the books in front of her. “Two seconds, that’s how long it takes now to search for something. Think of the hours you had to spend before.”

She was still smiling as she pulled one of the books from the shelf. “Some of these books look demure. But looks can be deceiving.” There was a glint in her eye as she let the book fall open in her hands.

Matteo was curious and walked toward her. The heat in the room was building and he shrugged off his jacket. His eyes widened as he looked at the illustrations in the book and choked with laughter. He leaned closer and frowned. “Can people even get in that position?”

Phoebe met his gaze with a glint in her eye. “Only if you’re a contortionist. I’m assuming these books belonged to the previous owner?”

Matteo nodded his head. He couldn’t help but smile. “Melinda Mulrooney had a reputation for being demure. Seems like there was much more to her than met the eye.”

Phoebe smiled as she closed the book and slid it back into place. She turned back toward Matteo and bit her lip. “I’m sorry that I’m here. Obviously, I didn’t mean to be.”

Matteo shrugged. “It’s fine.” He glanced at the heap of bedclothes on the floor. “But don’t you want to sleep in a bed?”

“I would have—but it was a little cold upstairs. And what with the fire down here and—” she held out her hands “—all these wonderful books. I kind of decided that this was all the entertainment a girl could need.”

The sentence was light-hearted but their gazes connected as she said the last few words. It seemed to hang in the air between them. Against the crackle of the fire in the background he could almost hear the sizzle in the air. His skin buzzed and blood rushed to parts at the rate of a Grand Prix driver racing around Le Mans. He was holding his breath without even realizing it, and as Phoebe’s tongue slipped from her mouth and slid along her bottom lip it glistened in the dim light. There was a roaring in his ears. What on earth was happening between them? After the longest pause, Phoebe pulled her eyes away from his. It was excruciating.

“I’ve made up a few of the rooms. If you need to stay too—it should be comfortable.” She pulled a face. “It just might not be too warm.”

Matteo looked out of the window, trying not to let his brain go to the place it wanted to right now. Stay here? With Phoebe? The snow was falling even heavier now. The very last thing he wanted was to be stranded in this house. It didn’t matter that this room was warm and inviting. It didn’t matter that the house was solid, that there was food and there were beds. It was this place. For him, the heat level was irrelevant; he would always feel a chill just being here.

Phoebe reached up and touched his arm. Her warm fingertips sent a jolt through him. “Hey, you came to find something. Want some help?”

“No.”

The word came out before he had time to think and Phoebe jerked backward.

“Sorry,” he said quickly as he ran his hand through his hair. He was being ridiculous. Even he knew that. He was looking for an album he’d never seen, in a house with dozens of rooms and a million cupboards. It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. And help should be gratefully received.

His stomach growled loudly. Phoebe pressed her lips together. “Unless you went grocery shopping, it’s cold pizza, or cold pizza.”

He nodded and sighed. “I guess it’s cold pizza, then.” He walked over and sat down on the rug in front of the fire. The snow had started to pile against the window. His stomach gave a flip as he realized there was no way he was getting out of here.

He looked down at the pizza. “What is this?”

Phoebe gave him a challenging look. “It’s a mega meat feast with spicy hot sauce.” She raised her eyebrows. “Why did you think I needed the soda?”

He nodded and licked his lips. “Okay then. I took you for a Hawaiian kind of girl.”