He was well aware of that. Well aware of the nausea forcing its way up his throat, threatening to choke him.
“Panicking isn’t going to help,” he said grimly.
“My whole career is hanging in the balance.” Quinn turned around, her face paler than he’d ever seen it. “What else would you suggest I do? I’ve spent the last seven years killing myself to get where I am. To prove myself. People are finally starting to respect me for who I am. And then I do this. For what? For me to satisfy my need to sleep with you?”
He went to her then, wrapped his fingers around her upper arms and pulled her to him. “Do not start tearing us apart because you’re afraid. I told you I won’t let you do that.”
“Why not? You haven’t even said—”
“What?” He slid his fingers under her chin and brought her gaze up to his.
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
It hit him then. She wanted him to say he was falling in love with her....
The words jammed in his throat. He cared about Quinn. He really did. But he wasn’t sure he even knew what love was. How could he say it?
He might never be ready to say it.
He swallowed hard. “I care about you,” he said gruffly. “I told you earlier I want you in my life.”
She looked up at him, her pupils dilating like those of a wounded animal. “Really it was my fault wasn’t it? Falling for a playboy? Because what does that really mean? You want me in your life until you eventually tire of me?”
“Quinn—”
She held up a hand. “I’ve had enough for one night. Like you say, let’s see what the morning brings.”
She marched toward the bedrooms. He watched her go, chest tight, the injured look on her face almost making him go after her. But what would he say? He’d forced her to open up and now he didn’t know what to do with the information he’d unearthed.
His mouth tightened. He jammed his hands in his pockets to restrain himself. It was a better idea to let them both cool off and focus on the fact they’d just put a ten-million-dollar deal in jeopardy. His own career, his relationship with his family was hanging in the balance if he didn’t figure a way out of this.
He needed an action plan and he needed it fast. Now was a time for logic. Not emotion. Because, undoubtedly, all hell was about to break loose.
CHAPTER TWELVE
IT WAS WORSE than he’d envisioned.
Matteo sat at his computer the next morning, a half-drunk cup of coffee by his side, the Whispers and Tales photo emblazoned across his screen. The placement of his hands made him wince. The cutline made him think selling wine to the devout might actually be a viable occupation.
He read it again to make sure it was as bad as he thought.
A Merger Made in Heaven?
After cutting a swath through the globe’s most eligible women, all eyes have been on devastating Matteo De Campo to see which leading lady he’d end up with next. Seems the much-sought-after bachelor might have his sights set on a very lucrative merger between the De Campo and Davis clans. De Campo, seen here engaged in a passionate clinch with Luxe Hotels vice president, Quinn Davis, during the reopening of the chain’s legendary property, Le Belle Bleu, in St. Lucia, seems to be having no trouble melting the heart (or other parts) of the “ice princess.” We give this particular merger a hearty thumbs-up.
Damn. He sat back and pressed his palms to his temples. If he was Daniel Williams, he’d be out of his mind. Questioning the integrity of all of it. The board, Warren—who knew how they’d handle it? And then there was Riccardo. He’d wanted to have all the facts, know who the new decision-makers would be so he could assure his brother he had things under control.
Not happening now.
Quinn came out of her bedroom, dressed and bleary-eyed. “It’s up,” he said grimly. She sat down beside him and scanned the cutline. Her skin paled. His chest tightened. “Quinn—”
She stood up. “I need to head Warren off at the pass. My flight doesn’t get in until eight. Can you take me in the jet and drop me off first?”
“Si.” He stood up. “Do you want me to come with you?”
Her eyes flashed with an icy brilliance. “I run multimillion-dollar companies, Matteo. The last thing I need is to be babysat by you.”
“I was offering to support you, not babysit you.”
“I need neither, thank you.” She headed toward the bedroom. “I’ll be ready in thirty minutes.”
He glanced at his watch. Heard a beep as a text came in. Riccardo.
Meet me at the house when you get in.