When he was satisfied with how easily she had folded into the kiss, he pulled back, though his lips lingered just an inch from hers, teasing the air she was trying to reclaim. He stared down into her eyes, his expression cooling into something dark.
"You taste like desperation," he murmured, his voice had a edge. "And you smell twice as much of it."
Isabella's triumphant flush vanished, her face hardening into a deep frown. But didn't care, he abruptly shoved her aside and walked out of the room.
He didn't look back as he strode toward his private office.
Nico was already there, sprawled on the leather couch with a laptop balanced on his thighs.
Matteo headed straight for the mini-bar, the glass clinking sharply as he poured a double for Nico and one for himself.
"Anything from the boys?" Matteo asked, tossing a drink toward his friend and second in command.
