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Her cheeks flushed and a little smile appeared. “It’s been nice, hasn’t it?”
Matteo snorted. “Better than nice.” More like unbelievable. Transcending. Earthshattering.
“Are you sure you want to take me?” she whispered, her expression suddenly unsure. “I mean, isn’t that a big event? Even I’ve heard of it, and I don’t keep up much on fashion.”
“It’s a huge event,” he agreed, noting how her eyes widened. “And I want you with me. On my arm, by my side. The world needs to know that we’re a couple.”
“We are?”
“Of course we are.” Rearing up, he kissed her. He needed to fill her with confidence, despite his earlier worry. She had it in her, to be a strong, beautiful woman who commanded a room. She could rule them with such ease, have them eating out of her hand if she so chose. He needed to give her self-esteem a boost. He’d be damned if anyone made her feel less than what she was. If she exuded the confidence he knew was deep within her, the judgmental people who moved in his social circles would be less inclined to tear her down. “Your insecurities will be the death of me.”
“Well, excuse me, but look at you. You’re one of the most successful businessmen in the fashion accessories industry, you’re gorgeous and you’re a billionaire,” she retorted. Ah, Feisty Paige had made her reappearance. He liked it when she came out to play.
“And look at you.” He scooted up so he leaned against the headboard, drawing her with him. Cupping her face with both hands, he pressed a soft kiss to her upturned lips. “Young. Beautiful. Smart. The most giving, thoughtful woman I’ve ever known. A generous lover.”
“Matteo,” she chastised, and he kissed her again to shut her up.
“A generous lover, a beautiful woman who is like a mother to my son…” His voice trailed off at the serious turn in their conversation. She had become…everything to him. In these past few weeks, he’d found himself consumed with her. Wanting her day and night. Thinking of her always. All this week at work they’d gone over the new fall lines, he’d seen endless samples of jewelry, specifically from Stasia’s designs and all he could think was, Would Paige like it?
Tunneling his hands into her hair, he gripped the sides of her head, locking his gaze with hers. “I want you there with me. It’s an important night. Renaldi is being recognized as an industry leader. Stasia is going, as well as my brothers—they’re flying in from Italy. You’re going with me. I need you there.”
“I—I have nothing to wear,” she protested and he silenced her yet again with his lips. “I wish you would’ve given me more notice,” she whispered when he withdrew.
“I forgot.” He had. He’d been so damn busy. “But I’ve been thinking about you…going shopping with my money. You could take Stasia with you. She can help you pick anything you like. But it must be a long gown. Formal. Designer. We’re talking thousands of dollars.”
Her lips parted, a little gasp escaping her. “I can’t spend that much.”
Yet another kiss for her protest. “You can and you will. I insist. My woman isn’t going to show up at that gala wearing an off the rack dress from Macy’s.”
She pouted. “I love Macy’s.”
Laughing, he shook his head. “Not for this, my love. For this night, you must look your absolute best.”
“While all you need to do is throw on a tuxedo and you’re ready to go. Life is so unfair sometimes.”
He smiled. “Not for me when I get to be the one who peels you out of that designer gown at the end of the night.”
Chapter Twelve
“Stop fussing. Now let me step back and look at you.” Stasia did just that, taking a few backward steps so she could fully assess Paige in all her formal glory. “Oh, Paige. You look…amazing.”
“I feel ridiculous.” Paige threw her hands up in the air and turned, glancing at her reflection in the mirror yet again, wondering who the stranger was that stared back at her. “I don’t even look like myself.”
“Yes, you do.” Stasia approached, standing just behind Paige, a little smile on her face. During their shopping excursion for the dress, Paige had confessed everything that was going on between her and Matteo. She figured if he was going to stride into this gala event with her on his arm, she may as well warn her friend beforehand that she was seeing her brother. “Matt is going to die when he sees you.”
“A good sort of dying or a bad one?” She was grumpy, nervous, quite frankly scared out of her mind over this evening. What if she made a fool of herself? What if everyone hated her? What if—and this scared her the most—everyone saw through her and figured out she was a complete fraud?
