Arianne switched the conversation to a safer topic, telling us about her work at the Verona County Transitions Initiative. But I wasn’t paying much attention.
Neither was Arabella, as she discreetly texted someone on her phone.
When she was done, she glanced up at me, her expression wavering for a second. But then an easy smile slid over her face as if she hadn’t just been caught red-handed texting her brother.
The next day at lunch, I didn’t expect to find Luis waiting for me with a garment bag.
“W-what is that?”
“A surprise.” His eyes twinkled. “We leave at six-thirty.”
Leave?
“Where are we going?” My stomach fluttered, but I didn’t know if it was with excitement or apprehension. Maybe even both.
“Like I said, it’s a surprise.” He left the bag draped over the back of the couch and slipped out of the cabin, leaving me alone.
I moved closer, plucking the small envelope from the clear pocket in the bag.
Let me make it up to you. M xo
Shivers raced up and down my spine as I slowly pulled the zipper, revealing a gorgeous, deep-green gown. It was fit for a princess, the bodice fitted and woven with delicate lace. The skirt was thick and luscious.
It was beautiful.
Confused, and a little out of my depth, I snatched my cell phone off the counter and texted Matteo.
What happened to house arrest?
His reply came instantly.
Give me a chance to get this right, please…
Why? Why is this so important to you?”
I glanced back at the gown, hardly able to believe my eyes. No one had ever bought me such a beautiful gift.
I didn’t know what to think. Was this Matteo’s attempt at buying me or was he merely trying to apologize and do something nice for me? Arabella hadn’t mentioned him again last night, and I certainly hadn’t brought it up. I was grateful for their company, even if watching them leave was a cold reminder of my situation.
Another reply pulled me from my thoughts.
I care, Caitlin. Let me prove it.
I clutched my cell phone, biting down on my bottom lip. He wasn’t going to give up without a fight, and the truth was, I didn’t want him to.
I wanted him to fight for me. I wanted Matteo to do what no person had ever done for me.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I texted back.
Okay.
Great, see you later… and Cait, I can’t wait to see you in the dress.
I was in trouble.
So much trouble.
Matteo made it so hard to hate him. But could I do it? Could I become his… woman? It would put me in the public eye more. There would be photos and press reports. If I was around Nicco and Arianne, there was every chance I would become noticed.
The smart decision was to reject him and the dress and wait it out.
I wasn’t for sale.
Not now, not ever.
But Matteo was different—I knew he was.
It was one night.
One night of freedom. One night to pretend that I was just a girl, and he was just a guy.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone on a date, a real honest-to-God date.
It had been too long, that much was certain.
I was pretty sure guys didn’t usually forward their dates brand-new dresses. I spied the shoebox on the sideboard… and shoes. Oh God, he’d sent shoes.
“You’re full of surprises, Matteo Bellatoni,” I murmured to myself, lifting the lid and admiring the black kitten heels with a red sole. A red freaking sole.
What was happening?
This morning, I’d been on the verge of making a run for it to escape Matteo and his overbearing ruthless family. This afternoon, I was swooning over a new pair of Louboutins and a dress fit for a princess.
I wanted to tell him he couldn’t buy my affection, but the truth was, I wanted it. I wanted one night to play dress up and forget the shitshow that was my life.
Which is why I found myself texting him back.
I’ll be waiting.
The knock at the door sent my heart into overdrive. I’d taken my time getting ready. A long soak in a bubble bath, followed by a glass of wine thanks to Luis, while I finished getting myself together. I’d left my hair down, sweeping one side off my face and pinning it into place. My curls were thick and luscious, and my makeup was simple and understated.
I felt beautiful.
I also couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a huge mistake.
But when I opened the door to reveal Matteo dressed in dark jeans and a black shirt and dinner jacket, there was no going back.
“For you,” he said, holding out a single red rose.
“Thank you.” I blushed, inhaling the floral scent before taking it over to the breakfast counter and adding it to a glass of water. “Are you sure this is okay?”
He nodded, his eyes dancing over my body. “Caitlin, you look… wow.”
A faint smile tugged at my mouth.
“Tonight, we’re just Matteo and Caitlin, okay?” He stepped forward, reaching for my face and brushing the stray hairs away. His eyes glittered with desire and in that moment I felt beautiful. “Nothing else matters,” he leaned in and whispered against my cheek, kissing me softly.
“Okay.” I gazed up at him, lost in his deep-blue eyes. He looked so good and smelled amazing. It was like a dream. A really good one I didn’t want to wake up from.
I didn’t have those often.
“Ready?”
It was my turn to nod. Matteo took my hand and led me out of the cabin.
“Miss O’Donnell,” Luis smirked as he opened the back door to the sleek black SUV.
“Seriously?” My brow lifted at Matteo, and he chuckled.
“It’s just a precaution.”
Right. Because I was in hiding so that Zander didn’t find me.
My heart ratcheted.
“Maybe this isn’t such—”
“Shh.” Matteo smoothed his thumb over my hand. “You’re safe, I promise. No one will even know we’re there.”
“And where is there exactly?”
“You’ll see. Come on.”
He nudged me into the SUV, sliding in beside me. I half-expected for him to keep some distance between us, but Matteo was full of surprises, taking my hand again and keeping it in his lap. As if he needed a physical tether to me.
The thought made me smile. That I could bring this strong, gorgeous mafioso to his knees.
Don’t get carried away with yourself, Cait. I ignored the little voice on my shoulder and sank back into the leather seats, determined to follow Matteo’s lead tonight.
Thirty minutes later though, when we pulled up outside The Montague Grand Theater, I struggled to keep my composure.
“Matt,” I gasped, cupping a hand over my mouth as I stared at the lit-up billboard hanging over the beautiful, imposing building.
“Romeo and Juliet,” I murmured, “I-I don’t understand.” I gawked at him.
“Arabella said you used to dance. In fact, I think her exact words were, ‘Matt, she’s a ballerina. A real-life ballerina.’”