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He had the decency to let the sentence trail into nothing. She blinked away, shocked to feel the sting of tears at the backs of her eyes.
“As for this, it’s unexpected, but not unwelcome. It’s sex,” he added, for a clarity that wasn’t needed. “Neither of us is in the market for more than that, right?”
He was right about that. She’d never make the same mistake again.
Rocco continued, “The wedding is work; ultimately, it has nothing to do with me. But you’ll be in Italy, you’ll need accommodation, and I have accommodation.”
He was just so arrogant, so self-assured. So confident he had absolutely everything in order, she couldn’t resist the chance to take him down a peg or two. To knock him, just a little, just for a moment.
“Wait a moment,” she managed to affect a tremor to her voice. “Are you saying—you’re not interested in me?”
He glanced at her with a quick downward quirk of his lips. “Interested, as in…”
“This is really just sex to you? I don’t mean anything?” She whispered, as though that was the most devastating thing in the world.
Panic widened his eyes. “You were the one who said that. Outside your shop. You made it clear?—,”
Damn it, she had. He was right. Still, it was fun to toy with him. He was just so deserving of a little torture. She was quite sure no one had ever dared before. “But that was then, this is now. Now we’ve slept together, multiple times. Surely that means something?”
He pulled away from her with such alacrity she felt an instant pang of loneliness, a familiar ache of desertion.
Desertion, her worst fear.
Abandonment.
Neglect.
She set her jaw, staring at him with a look that was wounded—and not completely faked.
“Maddison, listen, you’re very beautiful, and this is wonderful,” he gestured to her. “But I thought I’d been clear. I’m not interested in anything outside of this.”
“Am I not good enough for you?” She demanded, throwing herself into the role of jilted, unwanted, spawned mistress with much delight.
“This isn’t about you. It’s me. I’m not— cut out for anything more than this.”
Her lips quirked as she worked hard to suppress a laugh, but she wasn’t fast enough, and Rocco was far too astute. His eyes narrowed, his observational skills kicking into gear.
“You’re unbelievable,” he ground out, stalking back to her as Maddie stood, so they were toe to toe. “You’re mocking me.”
“I’m teasing you,” she replied with battered lashes. “There’s a difference.”
“Not to me,” he ground out.
“Come on, Rocco. Lighten up. Isn’t this supposed to be fun?”
He stared at her, surprise evident in his handsome face.
“You want to have fun with me?”
Her heart fluttered. Her brain squeezed. Her breath burned. Fun with Rocco Santoro? On the one hand, he was the man responsible for potentially ruining her life. Only, it wasn’t her life he was ruining so much as her sense of safety in the world, her safety net, her nest. He was ripping the rug right out from under her, but maybe, just maybe, that wasn’t the worst thing after all. What was that expression, about a door closing and a window opening? He was slamming a door shut that she had always wanted kept ajar. He was slamming it shut and doing so without her permission. But, he’d also jammed up a window, all the way to the ceiling, making it so easy for her to step through it was almost laughable.
A chance to do the flowers at an A-List wedding, with no cap on budget, several high-profile fashion magazines bidding for exclusive photographic rights…it was a dream come true. And maybe it would be the start of something new and exciting for Maddie.
Either way, how long had it been since she’d just let go and lived a bit?
Since she’d done something spontaneous?
Even as a child, she’d been preternaturally cautious, thrown into the role of ‘responsible adult’ in the house when she was still in the single digits. Then she’d come to live with Jack and Lorraine, her doting grandparents, but it hadn’t been very long before Maddie had been caring for them, too. Brock had been her first boyfriend, the first time she’d let herself go, had started to think maybe she could trust herself to make good judgements in relationships, that she wouldn’t be just like her mother.
