Chapter Nine

Matteo rested against his car, waiting for Macy to come out. The security guard eyed him suspiciously, and all he did was raise his hand, letting him know he wasn't a threat. A moment later, his girl came out and waved at him. She said something to the guard and then she sprinted over to him. He caught her and planted a kiss on her lips, smiling down at her.

He escorted her to the passenger side, and helped her into his car. Reaching over her, he secured the seat belt before sliding behind the wheel.

"Thank you for picking me up," she said.

"Anytime, baby. I've got a question to ask you."

"Oh?" she asked.

"You ever been to New York?"

"Um, no. I've never left Chicago."

"Well, we're going this weekend."

"Wait, what?"

"I have business in New York, and I want you to come with me."

She bit her lower lip. "I have to work at the arcade."

He reached over and eased her lip free. "Can you call in sick?"

"You know," she mused. "I thought of something while working."

"Oh?"

"Something I need to know before I go away anywhere with you."

Unease came over him. Had she figured out who he was? "And what is that?"

She grinned. "What's your last name?"

He returned her grin, freaking out on the inside. The last thing he wanted to do was give her his last name. "It's, um, Roman."

"Matteo Roman?"

"Yeah," he replied, nodding.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Roman. I'm Macy Moore." She smiled. "Do you have a middle name?"

"Dominic. What's yours?"

"Jane. Plain old Jane."

"Nothing about you is plain," he said. He started up the engine and pulled into traffic. "Want to spend the night at my place?"

"I have to pack if we're flying out tomorrow."

"I can buy you everything you need."

"Nope," she said, shaking her head. "I don't want you spending your money on me."

"Babe, I can afford it."

"That's not the point."

"Then what is the point?"

"If I'm your girlfriend, I won't have you spending unnecessary money on me."

"Isn't a boyfriend supposed to lavish gifts on a girlfriend?"

"Maybe flowers," she said. "Or a trip to the movies. Dinner. A walk in the park. Watching the sunrise. Or the sunset. Volunteering at the soup kitchen. Walking through a field of wildflowers. Those are gifts to give a girlfriend."

She never ceased to amaze him. "Most women would expect diamonds. Or rubies. Emeralds. Sapphires. Gold."

"Where would I use any of that?" she asked. "Those are not practical gifts when you work in an arcade."

"I would prefer you not work at the arcade."

She shrugged. "It's actually easier than being a server. I tried that for about a month, but I was too exhausted to work at the coffee shop."

"You know, you don't have to work."

"Please, not this again."

He blew out a frustrated breath. "What if we were married and I asked you not to work?"

"Are you proposing?"

Am I? "What if I am?"

"It's way too soon. Ask me later."

"Done. So, what about going to New York?"

"My boss knows I have frequent asthma attacks. I hate to use that as an excuse, but…" She took a deep breath. "I really want to go with you."

He smiled, beyond thrilled. "Thank you, baby. We're going to have a blast."

****

Matteo held her hand and helped her up the steep steps into the private jet. Pietro Romanelli spared no expense in order to travel. A tall, beautiful blonde stewardess smiled at him.

"Welcome, Mr. Roman—"

"Thank you," he said quickly, cutting her off. The last thing he wanted was this woman revealing his true last name. "Macy, would you like coffee? Tea?"

"Water is fine," she said, smiling.

"You heard her," he told the stewardess. "Nothing for me. After that, you're dismissed."

The woman nodded and headed toward the small alcove near the cockpit. She returned with a bottle of water, holding it out to Macy before leaving them.

"Hello, this is your captain. We have clear skies ahead and should arrive in New York City in a little over two hours. Buckle up—we'll be airborne in a few minutes."

Matteo helped Macy secure hers before doing his.

"What do you want to see while in New York?"

"The Statue of Liberty," she answered quickly. "If we see nothing else, I want to see her."

"Done." He ran a finger down her cheek. "You're so incredibly beautiful."

She reached up and captured his hand, bringing it to her lips so she could kiss it. "So are you."

"We'll be sharing a room," he warned. He wasn't going to allow there to be space between them.

"I figured," she murmured. "But that's what I want. I want you to be my first."

"Your last," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Am I your last?"

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. "You know you are."

"We just met."

"Love at first sight is real."

"You believe in that?"

"Of course, I do," he replied. "The moment I saw you it became real. I hope that doesn't scare you."

"It doesn't," she told him. "Fear comes from the unknown, and you're not unknown."

He smiled. "We're going to have a wonderful weekend."

When they landed in New York, a limo waited for them, whisking them away from the airfield and onto the crowded, busy roads. Macy stared wide-eyed out the window, and Matteo enjoyed seeing the wonder on her face. She reached into her bag and brought out an inhaler, shaking it before inhaling a puff. He made a mental note that he needed to figure out what medicine she needed to make her better.

The limo drove them to the Ritz-Carlton, and they left their suitcases behind as they entered the opulent foyer of the world-famous hotel. Crystal chandeliers, marble art deco floors. Their room was ready and a bellhop followed them up to the penthouse suite, where their room overlooked Central Park. Macy gasped, taking in the luxurious den with a coffered ceiling and recessed lights. Matteo gave the bellhop a nice tip and then they were alone.

Macy was at the window, and he came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I have a meeting in an hour," he said softly. "How about when I get back, we have a wonderful dinner, and then, an even more wonderful time in bed?"

"What if I'm terrible at sex?" she asked.

He frowned and spun her around to face him. "Then that means I'm terrible at sex."

"But—"

He placed a finger over her lips. "You're not going to be terrible, because I'm not terrible at it. We're going to be so hot that we'll burn the sheets."

Matteo kissed the tip of his nose.

"Now, I have to leave because in New York it's takes you an hour to cross the street."

****

Matteo held his arms out as he was patted down, maintaining eye contact with his diamond buyer, Amir Deeb al Essa. Once he got the nod, he sat opposite the Arabic billionaire from Dubai. Al Essa's men laid down the cache of diamonds on the table for his inspection.

"Welcome, Matteo Romanelli," al Essa said, his accent refined and crisp.

"Hello. Thank you for this meeting."

Al Essa clicked his fingers, and another man hurried forward, placing a jeweler's loupe up to his eye as he inspected the diamonds. After a few minutes, he looked up at his master and gave one nod. Relief that Roberto didn't screw him flowed through him.

"It seems the flawlessness you boasted had merit." al Essa said. He nodded to another man who tapped away on a tablet. "Paid in full."

Matteo opened up his encrypted account and saw the money transferred. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Al Essa nodded, and Matteo took that as a sign their business was concluded.