Chapter Three - Had He Abducted Her?
“What? You’re kidding me, right? I thought you just invited me to lunch.” Amelia glanced at the exit, wanting to make a beeline for the door. His abduction plans made her panic! Does he have a woman-abducting fetish?
She jumped when the elevator came to a stop in front of her and the doors slid open. “Joking, Emilia. I’m just inviting you to lunch.” His warm touch on her elbow to push her forward made her jump. Was he a wolf in sheep's clothing - a criminal in disguise? Was she making the worst mistake of her life?
She swallowed hard as he led her inside the elevator and the doors closed, taking them upstairs to some unknown place. Would he keep her imprisoned all her life? There was no one in the elevator and she could feel his stare pinned upon her. It was totally unnerving to her, and all she wanted to do was scream in frustration. The door opened on the sixth floor and he led her down a clean, airy, well-lit corridor towards a corner apartment. Fishing out the keys, he unlocked the door and pushed it wide open for her to enter.
“Welcome to my humble home, Signorina.” He flashed her a small smile that was warm and friendly for a change. It made her immediately suspicious, but one look at his sparsely furnished, clean, and humble home made her curious about the man. Why did he invite her when Rebecca would have been a better choice?
“Do you live here all alone?” she asked breathlessly, peering discreetly into his neatly arranged bedroom from the living area. No, there were no signs of a woman’s presence in the apartment.
“Yes. My family lives in Sicily, Italy.” Amelia looked at him with interest. Why did he live here all alone when his family lived so far away in Italy?
“Don’t you miss them? I wouldn’t be able to live alone in such a far-off place.” Matteo smiled and shrugged, his fingers unbuttoning his shirt.
“I’m used to it.” He popped the first two buttons and Amelia panicked. Would he shed his clothes right in front of her? Then what would he do? Maybe take her clothes off as well! She blinked the thoughts away and walked over to the kitchen.
“Do you want me to chop something in the meantime?” she offered, only to keep herself occupied. She would go crazy with this hot Italian guy giving her a strip show right under her nose. Why couldn’t he use his bedroom instead? What were the bedrooms for?
“Nope. You’re my guest.” He left his shirt totally unbuttoned and hanging while marching towards the refrigerator, not at all taking pity on her innocent, virgin eyes. With his six-pack abs on display, Amelia forgot to breathe, let alone look away.
“Orange juice?” he raised an eyebrow at her dazed state. Dumb guy! Didn’t he know the effect his semi-nu*ity was having on her? Or maybe it was deliberate! Maybe he wanted her to drool over the tattoo peeking out from under his shirt. She wondered what the rest of the tattoo would look like! The urge to run her tongue over the entire length of it drove her crazy. Was that what he was aiming at?
“Emilia!” His voice, laced with amusement, brought her out of her embarrassing thoughts.
“What?” she asked, as a deep flush spread all over her at being caught checking him out. She wanted the floor to swallow her up and never spit her out again, at least not in front of him.
“Do you want orange juice?” He took out two cans and handed one to her without waiting for a reply. Amelia’s eyes widened to see his refrigerator stocked up with dozens of orange juice cans. Did the guy survive on just orange juice? Who stocks up so much?
“Are you addicted to these?” she asked, eager to change the topic.
“Yep, can’t do without them.” He stood in front of her, chugging his juice while a droplet cascaded down his abs, disappearing into his trousers. Amelia turned away to concentrate on her juice. She would grab a quick lunch and get out of here fast before some uncontrollable force threw her right into his arms.
“I’ll be with you in a few minutes. Need a shower first.” He walked backwards towards his bedroom as if wanting to lure her inside to shower with him. Amelia nodded at her wayward thoughts. Since when had she become such a hormonal, sex-deprived teenager?
She walked over to the balcony and sat down on the stool to sip her orange juice in peace. It was surprising that she agreed to come over to his place so readily. How could she? Had she forgotten her mom’s advice? Her mom would really faint if she knew!
The orange juice refreshed her as she stared at the quiet, tree-lined street. Somehow Matteo’s humble, unpretentious home felt more relaxing than her palatial mansion back in LA. Of course, in his absence! A movement behind her startled her!
“It’s quiet out here.” Amelia turned at the sound of his raspy drawl. How did he know what she had been thinking?
“Yes, it is. I like this place.”
“Then stay!” he said, watching her like a hawk. Amelia gave him a look of surprise. What was he offering her? “I meant you can stay until the car is ready. I’m making my signature pizza. You wouldn’t want to miss it.” He walked inside and she followed him, watching the way his muscles rippled under the plain, soft white tee shirt. The figure-hugging jeans clung to his hot butt, making her groan with agony. He was truly detrimental to her mental well-being. She would grab her share of pizza and run back to the shop.
“There’s Chicken Parmesan to go with it.” Amelia’s mouth watered at the mention of food. At that point, she could do anything for food.
“Great. I can eat anything right now,” she groaned, while he smiled ruefully.
“That bad, huh? So how did you land up with just your bank card? I’d understand if you don’t want to tell me.” He leaned against the open kitchen counter and looked at her directly in the eye. His gaze alone made her feel an electric jolt reach across the counter and shock all her sleepy senses to life. Should she tell him about her predicament? Well, why not? He already knew about the car.
“I actually didn’t see a speeding car approaching us from the opposite. When I did, it was too late. The car in front of us stopped at the signal and I hit its rear end. The damage wasn’t much as ours was a Bentley. Yet the man demanded money and Rebecca insisted I pay him, since it was my fault, anyway. It’s her uncle’s car, and we borrowed it without his permission. I didn’t want to, but Rebecca never listens to anyone. If we owned up to our fault, her uncle would send us packing to LA. We wouldn’t be allowed anywhere thereafter.” She sighed and fidgeted with her fingers, unable to look up at him. With his eyes still pinned upon her, she felt like an insect under a microscope.
“I see! You shouldn’t have paid it all. It wasn’t your fault,” he said, walking over to the oven to get the pizza. The delightful aroma made her head swoon, and she just nodded, unable to say a word. All her attention was now focused on the food. He took out two plates and divided the pizza uniformly.
“Help yourself, Emilia. Tell me if it makes you change your mind and stay.” Amelia didn’t want to argue now. What if he refused to share the food? He served a generous portion of delicious Chicken Parmesan and she wondered when he had the time to make them all!
“This is heavenly. When did you make them?” He smiled, satisfied with her reaction to his food.
Instead of replying, he pulled a bar stool and sat down beside her, his soapy, spicy scent driving her wild. Why did he have to sit so close to her? Couldn’t he sit at the far end and just concentrate on his food?
He looked up at her flushed face and smiled that devilish little smile of his, as if he knew everything that was going on in her head. How could that be possible? There could be only two plausible explanations. Either she was transparent or he was an experienced player!
“I made the chicken last night. If I would have known you’d be here for lunch today, I would have made more.” Amelia kept her eyes trained on the food, but it was difficult when he said such words to charm her pants off her. His smile, and his smoldering eyes, all made her nervous. No way would she change her mind and stay, even if he offered her all her favourite dishes in the world!
“I’m honored, but I couldn’t eat anything more. Thank you for the treat, Matteo. I’ll get going, now.” She got up and leaped off towards the door, before he could stop her and keep her imprisoned in his house.
She turned the handle with all her might, but the door wouldn’t open. He had locked the damn door!