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But if Matteo were to move them to Italy permanently, they would be away from Stasia. And also…Paige.
Would she come and live in Italy with him? Hell, did he want her to come to Italy and live with him? She would go as his nanny, but would she live with him as his…lover? That sounded so ridiculous. Girlfriend? That sounded too juvenile.
He didn’t know what to call this…thing he shared with Paige. As of this very moment it felt like a friendship that included plenty of kissing with the potential for more. It was far too soon to define it any further.
“I’ve changed,” Matteo answered. “Despite how distant we had become, I was in mourning over my wife’s death. Sorry that we lost her so soon and that Matty hardly remembers her. Our relationship might’ve been tumultuous, but I never wished death on the woman.”
“Of course not,” Rafe said. “I understand. We both do. But you need to know where we’re coming from as well. Let us investigate this girl. Look into her background.”
“Hell no.” That was a complete invasion of privacy. He was walking on shaky ground with her still. He wasn’t about to tear apart the trust he was building with her.
“Why not? Afraid of what you might find?” Vince asked.
“She’s twenty-three. From the Midwest. Worked for a real asshole before she came to work for me. That’s it,” Matteo explained. There wasn’t any need to investigate her. She was as innocent as they came.
“She could be lying.” When Matteo glared at him, Rafe shrugged. “It’s true. Everyone lies. Anyone can make up whatever they want about their past when they move to a new city. It’s easy.”
“Paige isn’t a liar.” He stood, sent them both a scathing stare. “Watch her at dinner tonight. Talk to her. You’ll see.”
“That’s our plan,” Vince called after him as Matteo strode back toward the house. “We’re going to dig as deep as we can tonight, Matteo. Hope you don’t mind. And if she has nothing to hide, she won’t mind either.”
He gave them the finger in answer.
The table was filled with a total of four Renaldi men, from Matty to Matteo along with Matteo’s two younger brothers. They all looked so similar. The almost black hair, swarthy skin and dark-as-sin eyes, those terribly handsome faces. Though of course, to her, Matteo was by far the most handsome of all.
She sat across from Matteo, Matty to her left and Claudia to her right. The three Renaldi brothers sat across from them, intimidating in their silence as they all waited for Renzo, the gentleman who worked at the villa along with his wife, to bring the giant plates overflowing with food that would be their dinner.
Tension seemed to come off each of the brothers in obvious waves, and she didn’t understand it. Tried to ignore it, but it was no use. She caught them studying her. Their gazes hard, their mouths firm, contemplating her as if they didn’t like what they saw.
Paige wanted to shrink into herself, pretend she didn’t exist. Maybe if she went away, they wouldn’t think about her any longer. They’d forget all about her.
Foolish. She was a grown woman with nothing to hide. Maybe they were upset that she was—seeing?—their brother. If that’s what she could call it.
She didn’t know what to call what was blossoming between her and Matteo. The last few days had been romantic, exhilarating, passionate.
He hadn’t lied to her that first night they arrived, when he confessed being in Italy changed him. He was much more relaxed, at ease with himself and his surroundings. As if all the worry and stress of his job and life wore off and he could almost act carefree.
A carefree Matteo was rather intoxicating. She couldn’t resist him. The late evening dinners at intimate restaurants were her favorite part of the day. Just the two of them at a tiny table in a crowded bistro, how their knees brushed and the flickering candlelight cast them in a soft glow. The way he would look at her, reach across the table to touch her, grasping her hand, caressing her fingers.
The kisses in the moonlight, in front of her bedroom, his hands roaming all over her body, his heated breaths when he finally broke the kiss and pushed her into her room. She wanted more. Her body would ache for his but she knew what he was doing.
He was trying to win her over. Slowly but surely. And it was working.
“What in the world is wrong with you three?” Claudia finally said, breaking the silence. “You all look so blessedly angry.”
That was a mild way of putting it. The Renaldi brothers looked as if a thunderous storm had crossed their faces all at the same time.
“We’re fine.” The middle brother, Rafael, smiled at his mother. And boy, was it a beautiful smile. He was very good looking, with longish, dark hair that brushed his collar, intense brown eyes and an almost pretty face. “The meeting was rather long, but productive. I know I’m exhausted.”
