The Truth About De Campo(29)

“Matteo—”

He held up a hand. “How about I ask you a question?”

Quinn surveyed him warily as he took a long swig of his beer. “All right.”

He propped his elbow on the bar and rested his chin in his hand. “What was with the one-year marriage? Most people’s exercise routines last longer than that.”

She felt her face turn into fully petrified papier-mâché. “We were...incompatible.”

He shook his head. “I’m not looking for the press release, Quinn. I’m looking for the truth.”

“That is the truth.” And a million other intricacies she couldn’t even begin to get into.

Matteo looked at her for a long moment, those gunmetal-gray eyes of his seeming to look straight through her. “I think you were too strong a personality for him. He wasn’t man enough to be with you.”

She choked on the sip of wine she’d taken. “That’s a big assumption coming from someone who doesn’t know anything about it.”

His eyes glittered. “I know you, Quinn. You aren’t that hard to figure out.”

She bit into the side of her mouth. “I think Julian would disagree,” she said tightly. “He would tell you I was a boring workaholic who didn’t know how to have fun.”

“Then he’d be as much of a fool as I thought.” His baldly stated words made her heart jump. “Any man with balls would recognize that for the lie it is. There isn’t any part of you that could ever be described as boring, Quinn. As anything but full-on fascinating.”

A flush of warmth swept through her. “You don’t have to feed me compliments, Matteo. I have thick skin.”

“Then you can take me telling you the truth.” He let the loaded statement sit on the air until he was sure he had her full attention. “If we were doing anything but negotiating a ten-million-dollar deal right now, we’d have been in bed together already. And I’d be taking apart the puzzle that is Quinn piece by piece.” His gaze held hers, the intent behind it riveting. “I guarantee you I wouldn’t be bored.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Refused to continue on its way up to her brain where she needed it most.

“You are not a woman to be discarded,” he said harshly. “He was a fool.”

Quinn sat there speechless. Drowning in a new perspective that had never occurred to her before. Had Julian been intimidated by her? Had he tried to hurt her, humiliate her to make himself feel like more of a man? Because she’d been too much of one?

Her world tilted on its axis. Fractured apart as a seismic shift ripped the ground from beneath her feet and set her adrift. She’d spent the past year torturing herself with ways she could have saved her marriage. Ways she could have changed to keep her husband from straying. Allowed her self-confidence to be completely ripped apart when he’d found her wanting every time. When in reality, maybe her marriage had been destined for failure from the start. Because of the man Julian was. Who they both were.

One of the chefs came over and grabbed Matteo for the winner’s announcement. Quinn sat there, head buzzing as she watched him walk away. She had always believed that at the heart of her, she was somehow defective. Her disastrous marriage had only underscored it. What if it wasn’t true? What if her inability to please her husband in bed had been more about him than her?

With her belief about her biggest failure turned upside down, she stood at Thomas Golding’s side as they announced the winner of the chef’s challenge. Paradis, to no one’s surprise, won, François’s lamb dish and outrageously eclectic-green banana pie outclassing the competition by a landslide.

Catrina James presented François with the winner’s trophy and gave each of the chefs a kiss on the cheek as she posed with them for photographs. Her one for Matteo was extra enthusiastic. Of course.

Champagne bottles were popped and the night dissolved into a big party. It was impossible not to get caught up in the exuberant celebrations, but as she watched, as the clock slipped closer to midnight, Matteo’s easy smile faded. His face shuttered and the darkness descended. It was like watching a curtain fall and she knew he’d been hiding his pain under that charming, devil-may-care demeanor.

Tonight was the anniversary of Giancarlo’s death.

It did not surprise her to turn around sometime after midnight to find Catrina James attached to another male and Matteo gone. She stood at Thomas Golding’s side, the ground feeling unsteady under her feet. She should go back to her room and work. She had enough of it for an army.

Matteo was a conflict of interest in the most important assignment of her career. She should be running in the opposite direction. But some things in life were more important than work. Funny how she’d realized that now of all moments.