Once I was safely in the bedroom, I leaned against the door, nearly hyperventilating.
I was used to being around attractive men. Blond, dark, redhead, all skin tones and colors, all races and nationalities, and all gorgeous.
Everyone was gorgeous in the modeling world.
But Matteo Rossi took gorgeous to a new level. First, he was light where I was dark. His hair was the color of fresh wheat, and though his skin was tanned, I could tell he was naturally lighter than I was.
And about that hair the color of fresh wheat. It was long-as long or longer than my brother Roy's. Golden stubble graced his jawline, and what a jawline it was. Square and masculine and perfectly sculpted. His eyes.the lightest blue.
Then his body.corded and muscular, with large hands and thick fingers, the broadest shoulders I'd seen in some time, and an ass that was perfection in Levi's.
I was used to being around perfection, and probably partly because of my past, rarely did I have this intense an attraction to another human being.
My heart thudded rapidly. So hard against my chest that I could see the movement on the white towel that still covered me.
I wanted this man. I really wanted this man in a way that was completely new to me.
I'd been around the block, for sure, but not the normal block.
The intensity of my attraction to Matteo Rossi scared the hell out of me.
I inhaled and exhaled deeply several times, trying to slow my rapid heart rate. When I finally felt I had myself in a modicum of control, I let the towel drop to the floor. My suitcase sat at the foot of the king-sized bed, so I lifted it onto the bed and opened it. I grabbed my oldest, softest pair of jeans and a T-shirt and quickly threw them on, along with a comfortable pair of Crocs flip-flops.
I walked swiftly toward the door, and my heart started thudding uncontrollably once more.
Matteo Rossi might not even be out there. He'd said he dropped some groceries off for me since the store was closed. What other reason did he have to stay?
For God's sake, Riley. Calm down.
I inhaled slowly and exhaled, turning the doorknob and opening the door.
Then my heart started racing once more.
He was still there, standing in my kitchen-well, technically it was his kitchen-and peeling potatoes over the sink.
"Hey," he said.
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