Runaway Wolfes of Manhattan Three - Helen Hardt Page 0,7
was the rest of him. He had dimples on both sides, though the one on the right side was slightly bigger, making for an adorable lopsided effect. His icy blue eyes crinkled at the corners and seemed to speak right to my soul.
The eyes are the mirror of the soul.
One of my modeling instructors had told me that long ago, when I was a young teen just getting started in the business. We had learned to let our eyes do a lot of talking.
You can make anyone think he’s the only person in the room with the right look from your eyes.
I seriously doubted that Matteo Rossi had any kind of modeling training, but boy, did he have that eye thing down pat.
“Can I get you two a drink?”
I zapped out of my hypnotic stare at Matt and looked up to see a young server. And by young, I meant very young. So young his voice hadn’t totally dropped yet.
“Hey, Troy.” Matt looked up. “I’ll have a beer. Riley?”
“A…stinger, please.”
“Sorry, ma’am, we don’t have a full bar here. We have Guinness lager on tap, Stella in bottles, and tonight’s wines are a red blend from Paso Robles, and a white Burgundy.”
A white Burgundy? That sounded great. “I’ll have the Burgundy, please.”
After Troy had left, I said, “He can’t possibly be old enough to serve alcohol.”
“He’s not, but we don’t stand on ceremony around here. Troy is a good kid and he does good work for Trudy. Nobody here in Sumter Falls is interested in getting him in trouble.” He nodded toward a table in the corner. “Including Buster over there. He’s the sheriff.”
“Interesting. Things are certainly different here than in New…Pittsburgh.”
He laughed. “New Pittsburgh?”
“I mean Pittsburgh, of course.” Nice, Riley. You almost blew your cover.
“Of course you did.” Matt’s eyes twinkled.
I was going to have to be a lot more careful.
6
Matteo
She was definitely hiding something. I wasn’t one to pry, but Riley Mansfield had gotten under my skin in the five hours I’d known her.
I mean, really gotten under my skin. In an “I really have to fuck her” kind of way.
Not because she was beautiful, though she certainly was the most beautiful woman I’d laid eyes on in a long time. And not so much because she was challenging, although she certainly was.
No, it was something else. Something I couldn’t quite put a finger on, but something that drew me in, nonetheless. I wanted to know her secrets. I wanted to heal her heart. She’d given me no indication that her heart had been broken. Hell, I didn’t even know what she did for a living. But I knew why she had come here.
She was hiding.
And I wanted to know why.
How this quest for knowledge on my part necessitated a need for me to fuck her, I didn’t know. I knew only that I wanted her. I wanted to kiss those full pink lips, suck on those pretty brown nipples—yes, I got a look when she was in the hot tub. I’m human, after all—and I wanted to sink myself into her lush body.
Hell, I could leave it at that. Riley Mansfield wouldn’t be the first woman who’d rented my cabin who I’d wanted to fuck.
This one was different, though. I had no doubt. No doubt at all.
Troy came back with our drinks, and I took a long sip of my beer. This was an old house, so Trudy didn’t have the biggest kitchen or bar area. She brought in kegs of whatever she could get the best deal on from the liquor distributor in Billings. When the keg ran out, she brought in a new one, and it was always different, but she made sure it was good quality beer. While Guinness was known for their stout, they also made a damned good lager. Trudy probably got a good deal on it. She always offered a bottled beer too. This week it was Stella Artois. What it would be next week? No one knew. Same with the wine. She got cases of decent wine at the best price she could, and when they were gone, she brought in something new.
Riley Mansfield was probably used to a wine list a mile long.
“What is a stinger, anyway?” I asked.
“I’m not quite sure. They taste kind of minty.” She laughed. “And they sometimes make me drop my fork.”
Another laugh from her. Oddly, I felt as though I’d been given a gift.
I smiled. Riley Mansfield was a true enigma, but I knew