Tempted and Taken, page 21
“No, thank you.” Matt intended to be the only man who bought Liza gifts from now on.
“I’ll make the preparations now.”
Matt hung up, then spun his chair back to the large windows, grinning to himself as he planned out the rest of the day. He and Liza were going to make the most of what was left of winter. Then when spring hit, they were going to do the same. Maybe he’d fly her to Paris in April, to Bora Bora in the summer, to the Scottish Highlands in the fall.
Matt glanced at the clock. Only six more hours to kill until their spontaneous weekend trip began. He couldn’t wait to see Liza’s face.
Matt signed the paperwork in front of him as Henri listed off what each page consisted of. He listened with half an ear, too busy basking in the afterglow of his incredible weekend. Liza had been thrilled by his surprise, so thrilled, the two of them had added quite a few scandalous acts to their mile-high club list while flying to and from Vermont.
After a great day of skiing on Saturday—Liza was a natural and she enjoyed the activity as much as he did—they made his dream of making love on a bearskin rug before a fire come true in spectacular fashion.
Closing his eyes, he could recall the way Liza’s skin had shimmered in the firelight. How she’d gone down on him, taking him deep into her mouth as he tugged on the chain he’d attached to her nipple and clit clamps. He hadn’t touched her in any other way, so he’d been shocked when they had both come at exactly the same time. Liza’s sexual appetite matched his right down the line.
Once he signed everything, Henri gave him a quick rundown of his day, then excused himself to return to his own desk outside Matt’s office. Alone, Matt forced himself to concentrate on his work. He managed with varying degrees of success.
He groaned when he glanced at his watch and realized he’d only been here an hour. He used to be able to immerse himself so deeply in work that day would turn to night without him even realizing it. Now, the days passed way too slowly as he counted every minute until he could be with Liza again.
Matt was starting to feel like a teenage boy with his first crush. Then, he realized that he’d skipped that falling-in-love stuff in high school, which meant he really was experiencing those emotions now for the first time.
Opening his email, he worked his way through the inbox, putting out the most immediate fires.
Another peek at the clock.
“Shit,” he muttered. It was only ten-fifteen, exactly fifteen minutes later than the last time he checked.
Before he could return to his email, the door to his office opened.
“Yes,” he said to Henri, as he walked in.
“Ms. Edd—”
That was as much as his PA got out before Patricia sashayed around Henri and into the office. Henri looked ready to blow a gasket, but Matt lifted his hand, gesturing that it was okay.
It wasn’t, but he was the one who’d made the monumental mistake of asking Patricia out that first time—and too many times after. She was his cross to bear, not Henri’s.
Henri sniffed in annoyance, then left, closing the door behind him.
“Patricia,” Matt said, remaining seated. “I thought we agreed the last time you were here that you would make an appointment.”
He’d grown accustomed to Patricia’s fake smiles and laughs, so he wasn’t quite sure what to do with the menacing grin she shot in his direction. Patricia was well-known for her temper tantrums, something he was in no mood for today. If it came to that, he’d call security and have them toss her out on her ass.
“How was Hawaii?” Patricia asked, dropping down in the chair opposite him. She crossed her legs, looking far too comfortable.
Matt schooled his features, though he was curious how she’d known he was out of town, let alone where he was. Then he recalled Richard’s question about Liza. Were the Eddingtons so far gone on this stupid marriage idea that they were stalking him?
“Hawaii was nice.”
“I stopped by to see you a couple weeks ago. Your PA said you were out of town.”
Matt frowned. Henri was the last person on Matt’s list of people who would feed the Eddingtons information. Matt prized Henri as an assistant because the man was very good at protecting his privacy, so he struggled to believe Henri was the one to tell Patricia where he was.
Rather than respond, Matt remained quiet. He wasn’t interested in whatever game Patricia was playing. He hoped by refusing to participate, she’d get to the point, then get out.
“He was ridiculously closemouthed about where,” she bitched.
Matt fought to hide his smile. So, Henri hadn’t been the one telling tales. Good to know his trust hadn’t been misplaced.
“Daddy keeps his private plane in the same hangar as you at Northeast, so it wasn’t difficult for him to make a few calls and find out you’d flown to Hawaii. And that you had a female passenger with you.”
And there it was. The leak.
No doubt Richard had greased a few palms, but Matt didn’t give a shit. He would place a call to the airport once Patricia was gone to ensure whoever the hell was sharing his flight details was fired.
“One call to the Philadelphia Initiative later, and I found out Liza was out of town too, for a wedding in Hawaii.” Patricia’s skin glowed green, jealousy dripping from every word.
Matt had dropped the niceties at the end of their last conversation, and he felt no need to pick them back up again. So instead, he gave her a slow clap. “Remarkable detective skills,” he replied drolly. “Any point to them?”
“Daddy said he called and offered you Edgewood Resorts.”
“He did.”
“And you refused.”
“I did.”
“Why?” she countered.
Matt wasn’t doing this again. As soon as Patricia left, he was calling security, informing them she was no longer allowed in the building. Then he would make sure Henri knew that he wasn’t accepting calls from either Eddington in the future. As for his cell, he’d just block their numbers. “Patricia, if there’s a reason for this conversation, make it and leave.”
Patricia scowled, and he almost imagined the smoke coming from her ears. “You took Liza to a wedding as your date?”
Matt rolled his eyes. “Is that what this is about? You’re jealous?”
Patricia snarled. “I will never be jealous of that white-trash bitch!”
Matt’s temper rose, and he reached for the phone. Fuck it. He was calling security now.
Before he picked up the receiver, Patricia rose and slammed a piece of paper down on his desk.
Matt recognized it instantly, even though it was a copy. The original was tucked in Matt’s office safe. “Where did you get this?” It was a stupid question. Obviously, Richard was determined to make good on his threat to make Matt sorry. However, Matt had anticipated the attacks to involve his business. Not his personal life.
“Does Liza know you can break her family financially?”
Matt remained stone-faced, aware of Patricia’s laser-like focus on him. She was searching for weakness, or perhaps confirmation that he and Liza were in a relationship.
When he refused to answer her question, she picked up the paper again, dangling it between two fingers, waving it back and forth. “I wonder what Tony Moretti will say when he sees this. If rumors are to be believed, there’s bad blood between the two of you. How will he feel when he learns you hold him and that ridiculous construction company of his in the palm of your hand?”
Matt stared her down, refusing to rise to her bait.
“All it would take is one little call and Moretti Brothers Restorations could be yours. Liza is close to her neanderthal blue-collar cousins, is she not? I can’t imagine she would be happy to learn what you did all those years ago. It’s an unforgiveable offense.”
“So this is your plan?” Matt gestured at the paper in her hands. “Your father couldn’t pay me to marry you, so you’re trying to blackmail me into it? Pretty pathetic when you think about it.”
“You messed with the wrong family.” Patricia’s face twisted in anger. Matt couldn’t believe he’d ever thought the woman was pretty. Now, with her true nature on display, she was as hideous as an old crone. “We were offering you the world, and you stupidly rejected it for that gold-digging whore!”
Matt rose, pressing his fists against the top of his desk to stop himself from reaching out and throttling the woman. “Say another disparaging word about Liza,” he said darkly, “and it’ll be the last words you ever speak.”
It was an empty threat—maybe—but it was delivered with enough malice that Patricia took a half step away from his desk.
“I have the power to make this go away,” she said, forging on. “Make certain the Morettis never learn what you did all those years ago, what you can do to them now.”
Matt couldn’t understand this maliciousness, this tenacity. It was too over-the-top, too fucking much. “You don’t give a shit about me, Patricia, so you’re going to have to explain why you won’t let this go.” The second Matt asked, the light went on. “It’s because I said no, isn’t it? No one’s ever said that to you.”
Patricia sneered. “I always get what I want.”
“But you don’t want me,” he said.
“Of course I do,” Patricia said, smiling evilly. “Because she does.”
That was when Matt grasped he’d hit the trifecta when it came to setting off the selfish, spoiled woman. He’d refused to give her “more,” he’d said the word “no” repeatedly, and he’d had the audacity to choose another woman over her.
“So, what do you say, Matt?”
“I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”
It wasn’t the response she’d expected. Her frown was rife with confusion, but that emotion only lingered a moment before the anger returned. “You want to dig your own grave? So be it.”
And with that, Patricia spun on her heel and stormed out of his office.
Matt dropped back down into his chair, aware of what he’d unleashed. Patricia would follow through on her threat, and when she did, this house of cards he’d built was going to fall down. He’d been a fool to believe he could hide the sins of his past.
This time, that niggling little voice was no longer quiet. It was loud and condescending and…right.
Closing his eyes, the images flashed, each one reigniting the pain he thought he’d overcome.
The constant drip-drip-drip of water.
Dark red blood congealed on the snowy-white tiles.
The blue-tinged skin of a lifeless arm.
“No! No! No!”
“How could she do this to me?!”
Look deeper.
Matt bowed his head, not even bothering to fight the heavy feelings, the anguish, the desolation. He’d learned the hard way there was no way to rewrite the past, no matter how much he wanted to. As such, he couldn’t change what he’d done all those years ago.
He was as sure of that as he was of…
Liza’s response.
She’d never forgive him.
Chapter Sixteen
“Are you sure I can’t help you do something?” Liza asked her aunt Berta for the third time.
Aunt Berta, now as always, was immovable. “No, no, no. I’m just putting the finishing touches on the sandwiches. You sit there and relax.”
Liza grinned as her aunt fluttered around the kitchen, slicing a tomato, washing the leaves of lettuce, digging through the dill pickle jar. Aunt Berta had been inviting her over for lunch ever since Liza returned from Hawaii, but she’d been so slammed after missing a week of work that she’d eaten lunch at her desk every day last week, plowing through all the crap that had piled up during her absence.
Today, Liza decided enough was enough. She hadn’t seen anyone in her family since she’d returned. Simply because she’d earmarked every free second of her day as Matt’s.
“Now then,” Aunt Berta said, carrying two plates to the table. “Tell me all about your trip to Hawaii.”
Liza went into great detail about the wedding ceremony, the reception, the resort where she stayed, and all the food she’d eaten. The only thing she made no mention of was Matt.
Not because she didn’t want to tell Aunt Berta but because she and Matt hadn’t discussed “coming out” to their families and friends yet. She’d bring the subject up tonight after work. Now that she was here, chatting with her beloved aunt, she realized she was dying to tell everyone.
The problem was that, while that realist side of hers was telling her to err on the side of caution, the too-inexperienced-with-romance woman inside was flittering around like a girl who’d just gotten her first kiss.
The second she thought about kissing, she recalled the X-rated kiss Matt had given her girlie parts this weekend in Vermont. They’d been making out like teenagers on the bearskin rug, laughing, tickling, talking. Then, alpha Matt had emerged, stripped her out of her clothes, and French-kissed her pussy until she thought the top of her head would fly off.
Mercifully, Aunt Berta chose that moment to grab the iced tea pitcher from the refrigerator to refill their glasses. Otherwise, Liza would have to come up with an excuse for her suddenly flushed cheeks.
Liza still couldn’t believe Matt had whisked her off for a ski weekend. It was hands down the most romantic thing any man had ever done for her. Her feet hadn’t touched the ground since they returned last night, Matt driving them directly back to his penthouse, the two of them soaking in—and initiating—the gigantic Jacuzzi tub in his bathroom. Afterward, they’d laughed as they made a list of all the rooms and pieces of furniture they planned to “initiate” in his penthouse, his office at Russo, and her apartment.
And as perfect as everything had been—seriously, she’d been in a sex haze for two weeks, completely enthralled by the countless orgasms—she knew they were rapidly approaching the time when they should begin to broach some real-world topics. Things like the future, their families, and whether or not his view on marriage and kids had changed. Because—fuck her—that was going to be a deal breaker.
If Liza wasn’t so well-sexed, she’d probably take a minute to admit the thought of bringing those subjects up tied her insides in nervous knots. But for now, she preferred to remain safely ensconced in this “ignorance is bliss” state a while longer.
“Well, it sounds like you had a wonderful time.” Aunt Berta topped up their glasses and sat back down. Ever since she began working at the Initiative, Liza had enjoyed a standing weekly lunch date with Aunt Berta in her small apartment on the same floor as Moretti Brothers Restorations. Liza had always loved her aunt’s kitchen because it was clearly Berta’s favorite room. There were all sorts of cool cooking knickknacks, countless spices lining a shelf above the stove, colorful pictures of Italy and Philadelphia and family adorning the walls. There was a much-cherished recipe card framed and hanging above the table, the instructions and ingredients handwritten by Aunt Berta’s grandmother.
But it wasn’t the décor that left Liza with a warm feeling every time she visited. It was the smells. If Heaven had a scent, it would be called Aunt Berta’s Kitchen. Tomatoes and garlic and basil and cheese and, God, Liza’s mouth always started watering the second she stepped inside the apartment.
She and her aunt chatted for a few minutes more before they both rose and Liza helped her load their dishes into the dishwasher.
Liza was just about to head back to work when the door to Aunt Berta’s apartment flew open.
“Heavens, Tony!” Aunt Berta exclaimed, her hand on her chest. “You startled me.”
Liza watched as Tony and Luca entered with matching expressions, though she couldn’t tell if they were angry or upset.
Tony, in a normal state of mind, would have apologized for scaring Aunt Berta. Actually, normal Tony would have knocked rather than barging in.
“What’s wrong?” Liza asked.
Tony sighed rather than respond, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. Her brothers and cousins had spent their entire lives trying to protect the females in the family—with varying degrees of success. “Liza, if you could just give us a minute alone with—”
“I’m not leaving.” Liza crossed her arms. “So you might as well spit it out.”
“Tony? What is it?” Aunt Berta asked, clearly alarmed.
Tony gestured toward the living room. “Maybe we should all sit down.”
Liza and Aunt Berta sank down side by side on the couch, while Tony claimed the overstuffed chair to Aunt Berta’s left. Luca didn’t bother sitting down. Instead, he paced the length of the room, back and forth, like a caged lion.
Tony placed a piece of paper on the coffee table. Liza was only able to scan it for a second before her attention was distracted by Aunt Berta’s gasp.
Liza turned, panicking when she realized her aunt had turned white as a ghost. “Aunt Berta,” she said, wrapping her arm around Berta’s shoulders. “Are you okay?”
Tony shifted closer as well, and Luca stopped walking, standing on the opposite side of the coffee table, concern now mingled with anger.
“You know what that is,” Tony said softly.
Aunt Berta nodded, her hands shaking slightly. “We thought…I thought…I…” Aunt Berta lowered her head to her hands, and Liza’s panic increased tenfold. The only time Liza had ever seen her aunt this visibly shaken was when she’d learned Uncle Renzo had died.
“So it’s real?” Luca asked.
Despite the powerful emotions coursing through her cousins, Liza could tell they were trying to gentle their tones to keep Aunt Berta calm.
“It’s real,” Berta whispered brokenly.
Liza turned her attention back to the paper, trying to determine what the hell could be so bad.
Scanning the document, she saw it appeared to be…a gambling marker?
“I don’t understand what this is.” Liza could see Renzo’s name, an ungodly amount of debt, an interest rate so high that it had to be a typo, and then…
Liza’s heart stopped when her eyes landed on the name at the bottom.
