“Do you play the piano for others?”
“Not usually no.”
“Do you take requests to do so?”
“Are you asking?”
“Maybe.” Dammit, yes she was curious, so curious to see how those beautiful hands worked a piano.
It was better than imagining them carrying out the slow and easy seduction of a woman. Something she was definitely, absolutely never going to experience.
His gaze turned an incendiary gray. “How about I play for you when De Campo wins the pitch?”
Her heart tripped over itself. “Gambling again...”
“Gambling is a miscalculation.” He levered himself up off his elbows. “Like me betting on the fact that you don’t want me to kiss you right now when you absolutely do.”
“I don’t,” she whispered, her palms going sweaty as he leaned toward her.
“Liar,” he murmured, cupping her jaw in his fingers, his gaze locked on hers. “You wanted me to kiss you last night and you want me to kiss you now.”
“To which you did the smart thing and walked away,” she protested weakly.
“Yes, but last night you’d had a bottle of wine. Tonight you’re sober.”
“Matteo—this is—”
“Just a kiss...” he murmured, bending his dark head toward her. She sucked in a breath, sure that wasn’t going to be an adequate description. The slow, easy slide of his mouth across hers, as if he had all the time in the world, was so unlike the urgent, rough caresses Julian had always started with that it rocked her world. Then he did it again and again, until she was craving a firmer contact. Needing it. Her fingers curled into the soft jersey of his T-shirt, steadying herself, urging him on, she wasn’t sure which.
He made a low sound under his breath, angled his mouth over hers and took the kiss deeper, exploring every centimeter of her lips with a sensual thoroughness that turned her into a mindless pile of flesh, his to command. She had never known it could be like this—so deliciously intoxicating, so obviously meant to arouse and enjoy; not to dominate. Here on the top of the mountain, in a place like heaven, where nothing and no one else existed, she never wanted it to end.
“Matteo—” The word sounded so breathless and needy Quinn could hardly believe it was coming from her. He reached down, captured her hand and brought it to the back of his head. Invited her closer. The wiry coarseness of his hair beneath her fingertips was undeniably male, the teasing pressure of his tongue against the corner of her mouth tantalizing. She knew if she let him in it was going to be another mind-bending demonstration of what she’d been missing. But she did it anyway because she couldn’t resist.
Big mistake. It was hot and never ending.
She never wanted it to end.
“Quinn.”
The husky word pulled from Matteo’s throat penetrated her consciousness with the force of a hammer. He dragged his lips across her cheek and rested his forehead against hers. “Now might be a good time to stop.”
Stop? What was she doing?
She yanked her hand from around his neck and sat back, her palm covering her mouth. Oh, my god. She couldn’t believe she’d just let him do that. That she’d participated in it. Eagerly.
Matteo’s mouth flattened. “It was just a kiss, Quinn.”
Just a kiss? She’d been necking with a man she could potentially award a ten-million-dollar contract to. If that wasn’t a conflict of interest she wasn’t sure what was!
Apparently he was starting to realize that too, because he’d whitened under that dark tan of his. “It won’t happen again.”
“You’re damn right it won’t happen again...” She jammed her palms against her temples. “We can’t be kissing each other, Matteo. Despite your need to satisfy your curiosity with every woman on two legs.”
He scowled. “That is not what that was.”
“What was it then?”
He sighed. “A need to satisfy a curiosity specific to you, Quinn. And, a massive mistake, I agree.”
She squashed the flutter that flickered to life in her stomach. Matteo rolled to his feet and held out a hand. “Your flight is early tomorrow. We should go.”
She eyed the appendage warily, then took it. He pulled her up, stepping away from her as soon as she was level.
They didn’t speak as they made their way down the mountain, the sky darkening into early dusk. Matteo led the way on Anteros, Marica following at a slow, steady pace. Quinn wished desperately for some of her mare’s calm demeanor. Because that had not been her. She hadn’t been able to let a man near her since Julian. Hadn’t wanted to. Yet every time she got within five feet of Matteo De Campo she wanted his hands all over her.