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“No, no. Nothing’s wrong. Only, about this,” she gestured from her chest to his, swallowing hard at the sight of his toned, tanned abdomen, her thoughts momentarily derailed.
“This?”
“Us,” she clarified with a nod. “And the fact we’re sleeping together.” In light of her recent musings, it felt good to underscore the purely physical nature of their relationship. “Even though I know you had your own motives, I’m…grateful for the chance to work on this wedding.”
He arched a brow. “You have a funny way of saying ‘thank you’.”
She pulled a face. “That’s a bridge too far, given the whole house situation.”
His face sobered and he nodded slowly, a hint of sympathy in his gaze; but she didn’t want that, either. She wasn’t an object of pity. She wasn’t her mother. She was strong, and in charge, able to make the decisions in her life that were best for her. She had failed with Brock, but everything was different now. She was different.
“I’m looking forward to this job,” she went on, continuing to pull clothes on, as the plane palpably lowered in the sky. “But I would hate for your family to think I’m only there because of…guilt.”
He looked at her without responding.
“I’m confident I can do this, or I would never have accepted,” she rushed on. “I will go above and beyond to give your brother and his bride the most amazing floral arrangements anyone’s ever floralled. So, I just wonder if we can keep this,” she gestured from her chest towards his again. “Between us.”
Rocco’s nod was slow. “I wasn’t planning on shouting it from the rooftops.”
Her heart lurched. “Good.” That was what she wanted, so why did his words cause an arrow of pain to dart through her, landing with a thud in the center of her chest? “Great,” she tried again, with more enthusiasm.
“It’s not exactly the most professional thing I’ve ever done.”
Maddie tilted her head to the side in silent enquiry.
“We’re at loggerheads over the house. The development means a lot to me—it’s worth a lot, financially,” he corrected. “I doubt my family would be particularly thrilled with how I’ve complicated things.”
“You haven’t,” she said quickly, surprised by the immediate rebuttal. “Or if you have, so have I. But we both know this,” for the third time, she gestured between them, earning a sardonic half-smile from Rocco. “Doesn’t change anything about the house.”
“Or the flowers.”
She bit into her lip as she nodded. “Okay, then. I’m glad we’re in agreement.”
“Indeed.” He stood, striding to her, gloriously naked and uncaring, like some of kind of ancient, Greek God. Her heart stammered and her stomach clenched. “But make no mistake about it, Maddie.” It was Rocco’s turn to gesture between them, but when he did it, he physically touched his own chest first, and then hers, pressing his fingers to the soft flesh just above her breasts, where her heart was hammering. “When you are not working, you will be mine.” His fingers lifted, catching her chin and raising her face to his. “All mine, anytime I want you.” He dropped his mouth to her jaw, kissing her there, flicking her with his tongue, breathing warmth against her sensitive flesh, until she was trembling all over. Was it his kiss, though, or the intoxicating dominance in his words? The demands, that spoke of a deep, hungry need for her?
“What about what I want?” she moaned into his mouth, because she felt a need to assert something, a challenge to his control, to his possessive tone.
He pulled back, just long enough to pin her eyes with his own, to stare almost through her, and then he grinned. “Isn’t it the same thing?”
He kissed her before she could answer, kissing her as the plane continued to descend, kissing her and holding her steady as the plane lurched a little when it hit the runway; but Maddie didn’t notice anything quite so earthly and pragmatic. She was well beyond the point of being able to think, to do anything other than this. To feel and be felt; to be made to feel.
Despite everything, she couldn’t lie to herself about one aspect of their relationship. When they touched, she was in heaven—and she wasn’t sure she ever wanted that to end. It was a chilling, sobering thought, and only her certainty that she’d never be stupid enough to let a man into her heart again stopped her from worrying. Rocco was as addictive as he was temporary—a conundrum she’d solve when all this was over, and she could think clearly once more. For now, she surrendered to the pleasure he could invoke and reminded herself that she deserved this.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“IWANT ALL WHITE!” The bride-to-be cooed, pulling her silky blonde hair over one slim shoulder, barely making eye contact with Maddie, who was busy scrawling notes into her book. “White roses, white lilies, white carnations, baby breath, white everything. And the flowers should be everywhere,” she said, clapping her manicured hands together.
The wedding planner, a glamorous Italian woman who went by one name only—Lilliana—nodded emphatically, moving her hand through the air in a gesture of agreement. “Everywhere. You are not from Italy; I have put together a list of the best wholesalers and put a hold on an enormous quantity—for your inspection.”
Maddie was a little annoyed by that—she liked to source her own flowers. Then again, Lilliana was right. Maddie had no contacts here, besides the few she’d reached out to before leaving the States, and they had less than a week to pull this together. There was no sense standing on her pride. “Great, thanks.”
“We’ll want flowers at the altar, on the backs of all the chairs, in the guests’ hotel rooms, as well as the flowers for the bridal party and important guests.”
“I have pictures,” Marcia said enthusiastically, reaching into her pocket and withdrawing a phone. “Can you add yourself to my Pinterest file?”
Maddie took the phone with a nod, adding herself as requested then returning the device. “I’ll pull together some concept arrangements over the next day or so. I can either send pictures for your approval or arrange a showing.”
“Oh, a showing,” Marcia said. “I want to smell the flowers, to really get a feel for them. Flowers are so important, aren’t they?”
