Tempted and Taken, page 6
Arnold nodded slowly, processing that information. “Did you ask Matt about it? Ask him if he’s in a relationship with her?”
Liza had questioned why Matt and Patricia weren’t together on New Year’s Eve. His response had been vague at best. The problem was that between seven days of restless, horny sleep and consuming three strong-as-shit margaritas over dinner, she hadn’t exactly been firing on all cylinders that night.
Then he’d planted that blow-your-brains-out kiss on her, and her cylinders had shut down completely, total meltdown.
“We’re not exactly…I mean…just because we had sex doesn’t mean…”
Jesus Christ.
Wake up, brain. Formulate a complete thought.
“You don’t think you have a right to question him about who he’s seeing because the two of you aren’t dating,” Arnold said, filling in the blanks succinctly.
“It was just one night. We made no future plans for more dates.”
“But you would like to date him?” Arnold pressed.
Liza shook her head, even though her response to that question wasn’t no. “It would be impossible. He’s a Russo. I’m a Moretti. And while the feud may seem ancient to me, I can assure you my dad, uncles, Tony, and Nonno have very long memories.”
Or at least…they did. Liza considered Gage’s presence at Christmas Eve dessert and realized that wasn’t completely true anymore.
Arnold laced his fingers in front of him, his elbows resting on the arms of the chair. “Take the last names out of the equation. Pretend you’re Liza Smith and he’s Matt Jones. Do you want to date him?”
“I…”
Did she?
She closed her mouth and shrugged.
Arnold didn’t let her off the hook. “You’re not a coward, Liza. It’s a straightforward question, one you already know the answer to.”
If all that was holding her back was their last names, Liza’s response would be as simple as Arnold believed. It would be yes.
The reason it wasn’t easy had nothing to do with family rivalries or even Patricia. It had to do with the way Matt had made her feel that night. Because the sex had been eye-opening and slightly terrifying. He had revealed something… Well, something she’d probably known was there but hadn’t ever allowed herself to consider. She’d spent too many years sleeping with idiots who didn’t realize there was this little thing on a woman’s body called the clit…
Matt not only knew it existed. He knew exactly what to do with it.
She raised her gaze to Arnold’s, aware she was doing something she never did. She was blushing. Serious flames licked her cheeks, and Arnold, the observant asshole, not only noticed but interpreted exactly where her thoughts had gone.
“You and I have talked about everything under the sun this past year, haven’t we?” he asked casually.
“We have.” Somewhere along the line, Johnnie and Arnold had become two of her best friends. Probably because her girlfriends were dropping like flies, Cupid flinging arrows in every direction except hers, which meant Penny, Jess, Gianna, and Keeley now spent their nights in committed bliss with their soul mates rather than cruising the nightclubs with her.
“Everything except sex.” Arnold claimed he liked her because she didn’t mince words, but she couldn’t hold a candle to him when it came to being forthright.
“That’s true,” she replied.
“And we don’t have to start now if it makes you uncomfortable, but, well, the door is open.”
Liza appreciated the offer, even though she wouldn’t have a clue how to begin. If she couldn’t manage to say the easy stuff, how the hell could she tell Arnold, a sixty-two-year-old gay man who’d become an extra brother/best friend, that she was…
Fuck. She couldn’t even think the word inside her own mind. How could she say it out loud?
“I…I… He…um…”
Arnold frowned. “Did he hurt you?”
“Oh my God, no. At least, not in any way that I didn’t want. He was strong and demanding and…” Liza resisted the urge to fan herself, certain she was probably past the red stage and now turning purple.
“I see,” Arnold mused.
She was afraid he did. “He awakened something in me that I’m not sure I can turn back off, now that I’ve… God. Why is this so hard to admit?”
“Say the words, Liza. Tell me what he showed you. Tell me what you discovered. Not speaking them doesn’t mean they aren’t true.”
“I think I might be sexually submissive.”
“You think?”
“I’ve never been with a man who made me feel the way Matt did.”
Arnold nodded his head slowly, considering that, the silence drifting too long for her comfort.
She broke first. “Say something.”
“It’s clear that night with him made quite an impression on you, shook your foundation, rattled the windows.”
“You can say that again,” she mumbled.
“So don’t you think something that impactful is worth taking a closer look at, worth exploring?”
“Are you talking about Matt or the sex?”
“Are they separate in your mind?” he countered.
“Not at all,” she whispered. Liza’s shoulders drooped. Because while his words were right, they were also hard.
“Well then, in that case, I think you know what you have to do,” Arnold said, driving his point home.
“I need to talk to Matt.”
Dammit.
Chapter Five
Matt leaned back in his desk chair, his gaze drifting to his weekly schedule on the computer.
To her name.
It wasn’t like he needed to consult the damn schedule to know what his afternoon looked like. He’d been anticipating this one o’clock meeting ever since Liza had called his PA, Henri, a week ago to request it.
It had been almost a month since he’d seen her on New Year’s Eve. Three and a half weeks since he’d piled onto the mistakes he’d made after the gala by kissing her at midnight.
He’d been a fucking idiot because Liza had given him the perfect out that night when she’d questioned him about Patricia. Clearly, she’d seen that stupid article and believed he was back with the annoying socialite.
It would have been the ideal solution to his “How Do I Solve a Problem like Liza?” dilemma.
If it really was a problem.
That was why he’d been anticipating this meeting. It was time for the two of them to clear the air. If Liza was happy to hang on to that “it was a mistake” viewpoint and give him a wide berth, he’d be golden.
But if she wanted more…
He recalled the hope in her eyes after that ill-advised kiss.
He really should have taken the opening she’d provided, lied and told her—in no uncertain terms—that he and Patricia were an item once more.
What he should not have done was kiss her again.
He thought the kiss they’d shared in the elevator had been explosive, but it didn’t hold a candle to the one outside Enigma as snow flurries fell around them.
He glanced at his phone. T-minus twenty minutes until her arrival.
Matt had considered canceling the meeting, telling Liza she could share the foundation’s annual report with him via email. It would have been a perfectly valid request because that was how they always handled reports. The fact she wanted to meet in person told him she was ready for the face-to-face he’d been avoiding.
The sooner he discovered what kind of fallout he could expect from their one-night stand, the better. He hated not having all the information. Going into situations blind was bad in business and in personal affairs. He’d never been the type to pull his punches, so the fact he was doing so with Liza was a problem. One he needed to address.
Of course, regardless of her intentions, Matt’s would remain the same. He wasn’t interested in pursuing anything more.
No. That wasn’t entirely true.
It was more accurate to say he couldn’t pursue anything more.
Because their night together had blown the door he’d kept locked for well over a decade right off the hinges, his nightmares growing more frequent, regret eating away at him like cancer.
The constant drip-drip-drip of water.
Dark red blood congealed on the snowy-white tiles.
Look deeper.
Stop. He shut the images down, then rubbed his eyes wearily. This was why it would be better to let her down easy now rather than let things go too far between them. Because he had no intention of ever letting her see who he really was, nor could he tell her about the things he’d done.
Those were his secrets and he would take them to the grave.
His eyes drifted to his phone again. T-minus nineteen minutes.
“Enough,” he muttered, minimizing his calendar and opening his email, allowing work to distract him.
As soon as he clicked on the first message, the door to his office swung open and he looked up, scowling. No one entered without knocking. Not even his personal assistant.
He mentally groaned when Patricia Eddington sauntered in, his PA hot on her heels.
Henri shot Matt an apologetic grimace. “I asked her to wait so that I could see if you were available.”
Matt waved his hand at Henri, aware Patricia wasn’t the type of woman to follow any protocol that required her to wait. She’d mentioned countless times in the past that she expected others to accommodate her busy schedule. Her self-importance was off the charts. Every time she made the comment, Matt had to practically bite his tongue off to stop himself from retorting that getting manicures, going for coffee, and “doing lunch” at the country club with girlfriends hardly classified as “busy.”
“It’s alright, Henri.”
Henri frowned behind Patricia’s back. His PA was a stickler for perfection and Patricia had just broken a cardinal rule by making him look incompetent. “You have a meeting in fifteen minutes,” Henri reminded him, not because Matt didn’t know but because he wanted to let Patricia know she was on the clock.
Like that would work.
Patricia glanced at Henri over her shoulder. “Leave. Now.”
“That’s enough,” Matt said, his tone low and threatening enough that Patricia actually looked chastened…for a moment. He hated the way Patricia spoke down to anyone she considered her lesser, which seemed to include anyone with less than ten million dollars in the bank. She was rude and insulting to everyone from waiters, doormen, chauffeurs, and now, his personal assistant, something he’d made clear to her he wouldn’t stand for.
Henri sniffed, then left, closing the door behind him.
It would be polite of Matt to rise and greet her, but Patricia was the one who’d shown up here without an appointment, so screw that. He’d wanted a distraction, but she wasn’t it.
“Patricia,” he said coolly.
Her well-plucked eyebrows lifted when he remained seated, but only for a moment. Then she skirted around his desk, bending down to press a kiss to his cheek. “Matt, darling. You couldn’t believe how much has happened this past month.”
Matt forced himself to be civil. “How was Aspen?”
Patricia perched herself on the edge of his desk, taking care to make sure the slit in her pencil skirt parted just enough to give him an eyeful of her thigh. “Wonderful! The powder was fresh and soft as a pillow. You simply have to come with us next year. Daddy and I insist.”
Hell would have to freeze over before he’d make that trip or any others with the Eddingtons.
Matt offered no reply, not that Patricia needed one as she prattled on about the ski conditions in Colorado. “And then, we decided we were having so much fun that Daddy surprised me and Mommy by whisking us off to Switzerland to ski at our chateau for a couple of weeks. We only just got back to Philadelphia yesterday. I’m sure you must’ve been wondering if I was ever coming home,” she said with a giggle.
Matt hadn’t realized she wasn’t in Philadelphia. He hadn’t cared either. After all, he’d broken off their relationship the last time he’d seen her.
“I’m sorry to rush this along, Patricia, but I do have a meeting.” If he didn’t get her out of there very soon, there would be little chance of Liza and Patricia not running into each other.
And while that was something he could use to his advantage, he refused. He despised the way Patricia talked down to Liza, so there was no way he’d subject her to that if he could help it. “Was there something you needed?”
Patricia pushed away from his desk, walking around it to sit in one of the chairs opposite him. He didn’t like the way she settled in like they had all the time in the world. “I suppose you saw that article about us on the internet. It’s terrible how the two of us are never out of the public eye. I mean, we couldn’t even enjoy a quiet dinner together without the paparazzi bombarding us.”
Bombard wasn’t the word he’d use, considering neither of them even saw the cameraman.
Matt sighed, infusing as much boredom into it as he could. “That site is infamous for gossip. I doubt anyone takes the lies written there seriously.”
“Oh, I know. It’s just…Daddy saw it and he thought it was true. He got very excited about the possibility.”
And with that, Matt’s suspicions that he hadn’t seen the last of Patricia were confirmed. As were his feelings that she’d set up the pictures and the article. Because there was no way in hell Richard Eddington would have just happened upon that article if Patricia hadn’t shown it to him.
“I hope you explained to your father that it’s not a possibility and that we’re no longer seeing each other.” He refused to feed her the “just friends” bullshit again. It was time to be a lot less subtle with Patricia.
“I did, but you know Daddy. Once he gets something in his head, he’s relentless. It’s why he’s such a successful businessman. He never says die.”
“This isn’t a business deal.”
“It could be.” She’d said the same at the gala, assuring him that theirs wouldn’t be a love match and that they could both have affairs as long as they were discreet about it.
“Patricia,” he started.
“He thinks, like I do, that a marriage between our two families would be incredibly lucrative.”
Matt was trying to figure out if Richard Eddington truly believed that or if he was simply telling Patricia what she wanted to hear. Richard didn’t need Russo money any more than Matt needed the Eddingtons.
However, as far as Matt could tell, there was nothing Patricia had ever wanted that she hadn’t received. The word no hadn’t played a role in her upbringing. So if Daddy Eddington thought she wanted Matt, he’d move heaven and earth to get it—him—for her.
“As I told you when you brought up the subject of marriage, I have more than enough money. I don’t need to increase the family coffers.”
Patricia’s pout was pronounced, making her look like the poster child for spoiled brats everywhere. This was the kickback he’d expected the night of their dinner date, and while he was grateful he was able to address it without a hangover, he still wasn’t functioning at his best because he was anxious about Liza’s imminent arrival.
“I know you said that.” She brushed that reason away as inconsequential. “But Daddy was hoping now that some time has passed, you might have reconsidered.”
Daddy or Patricia?
“I haven’t.”
“He plans to call your PA, to set up a meeting so that the two of you can discuss—”
Matt’s patience was at an end. “I am always happy to meet with your father about business opportunities, but as far as I’m concerned, this marriage discussion is over. I am not getting married to you for money, love, sex, or fame. I am not getting married. Period.”
Patricia looked ready to continue the battle, so he stood up, circling his desk, gesturing toward the door and giving her no choice but to follow suit, though she stood up reluctantly. “If you could just talk to Daddy, I think—”
“No, Patricia.”
Her eyes narrowed, her cheeks flushed with anger, and her nostrils flared. She really didn’t like hearing that word.
However, he had to hand it to her. She was good at keeping her flashes of tempers just that. A flash, then gone again.
“Matt,” she said sweetly, reaching out to place her hand on his forearm, leaning toward him so that her breasts would brush against him. “You’re making a mistake.”
“No. I’m not.” Subtlety would never work with this woman. Matt had hoped to be able to maintain a comfortable working relationship with Richard, but he was over that now. He’d make up the loss of income somewhere else if Richard tried to sever ties. At this point, Matt would embrace the pauper’s life if it meant he didn’t have to deal with Patricia again. “In the future, please contact Henri if you’d like to schedule an appointment.”
Patricia’s lips thinned, and he could see her struggling for a way to continue pressing her case.
“Goodbye,” he said, dismissing her once and for all.
She walked to the door, flinging it open. He didn’t bother to see her out, so he was surprised when she twisted back to him, the fury he’d just seen in her eyes gone. She gave him a seductive smile as she blew him a kiss. “See you later, lover,” she purred, before turning and walking out.
It was then that he saw Liza standing next to Henri’s desk, her expression unreadable.
“Oh, hello, Liza,” Patricia said, her tone pure venom. “I didn’t know they let you out of your cubicle during the day.”
Liza’s eyes narrowed, but before she could offer a retort, Patricia tittered at her own joke, then sauntered down the hall to the elevators like she owned the place.
“Ms. Moretti is here for your one o’clock,” Henri said, stating the obvious when neither Matt nor Liza spoke.
“I can see that.” Matt gestured for Liza to enter the office. She walked in as he closed the door behind her.
Liza, damn her, looked gorgeous in her silky white blouse, fitted black slacks, and tailored maroon blazer. Her jewelry was understated, a thick gold chain around her neck, a pair of drop earrings, and her Apple watch with a chunky, knotted gold band.
