Marry My Billionaire Second Husband - Chapter 47

Chapter 47: Cooked Through
“Is there something on my face?” Matteo asked, with a raised eyebrow. “You seem to be staring at it a lot.”

“It’s nothing! I was just wondering if your food tastes good,” Amelia said, her mind quickly looking for an excuse. She couldn’t tell him that his face was arrestingly handsome in the soft candlelight of the restaurant, that it conjured up an entire colony’s worth of butterflies in her stomach.

Mentally, she reminded herself that this date was a stunt. The camera flashes that nearly blinded her when she first entered the restaurant were a testament to that. The fact that Matteo didn’t book the entire restaurant also showed that he wanted people to see them, to talk about them, and to spread the word that they were together.

There were no real feelings involved in this damage control attempt, and she shouldn’t be so foolish to fall in love with Matteo over a full-course meal.

She made herself look at her dining table, reluctantly tearing her eyes away from the vision that was Matteo Montgomery in a pressed suit. It helped that food had already been served, and she could focus on her meal instead.

Since this was her first time at a restaurant so renowned, Matteo had offered his recommendations, and she had decided to follow suit, choosing a seafood spaghetti that featured actual lobster meat as a topping. It came with a piping hot lobster bisque soup, with herbs sprinkled on top.

All in all, it was a culinary delight. Amelia was half-afraid to learn how much it cost. The menu she was offered had given her plenty of flowery descriptions for each dish, but no actual prices.

At least Matteo was generous when it counted. The smell was heavenly, but Amelia’s nervousness made it hard to stomach much. She sipped her soup.

“Do you not like the lobster?” Matteo asked, concerned. “You hardly touched your food. I will have them give you something else.”

He was about to call for a waiter, but Amelia stopped him.

“No, no, the food is great,” As if to prove her point, she hurriedly swirled her spaghetti and shoved it into her mouth to stop herself from saying something stupid. Flavor burst in her mouth, and she couldn’t resist moaning through the mouthful, eating more of it for real.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” Amusement was visible in Matteo’s voice as he gazed at her.

Amelia felt her cheeks heat up, and her chewing slowed.

God, she was behaving like an idiot! Shoveling food in her face like a child! Thankfully, no one had caught sight of it, if not she would have a slew of unflattering photos plastered all over the internet.

“Don’t stop on my account. I think it’s adorable to see you enjoy your food,” Matteo said, a small smile on his face. “Oh wait, you have something here…” He pointed to the corner of her mouth.

“Oh, sorry,” Amelia said sheepishly, grabbing a napkin to wipe her mouth. However, the napkin didn’t seem to have any residue on it.

“Did I get it?” Amelia asked self-consciously, her tongue discreetly trying to feel in the direction he pointed at, hoping that she did not splash sauce on her cheek.

“I’ll get it,” Matteo said, and that was all the warning Amelia had before he leaned over, gently cradling her face in her hands before swiping his thumb across the corner of her lips. “Perfect.”

“What… what…” Amelia spluttered in surprise, her eyes darted between his thumb and his face while her heart made a futile attempt to beat itself out of her ribcage.

Then Matteo proceeded to lick said thumb before returning to his steak, his eyes only remaining on her for a fleeting moment.

“You’re right,” he said as he began to slice through his steak once more. “The food is indeed great. Perhaps I should order that for a change the next time we’re here.”

Amelia was left stunned.

Her mind was hyper-focused on the firm sensation of his fingertips on her bare skin. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, the freshness of crisp apple and warm pine leaving her strangely feverish.

She could only gaze into his eyes, her mouth moving wordlessly as she was left breathless at their closeness.

“Do you do this to anyone you eat a meal with?” Amelia asked weakly.

“Relax,” Matteo murmured into her ear. “We are engaged to be married. This much contact should not startle you.”

“Right… right…” Amelia said, willing her beating heart to settle. Matteo was right. If she flinched and startled at every single touch like a newborn colt, no one would believe their relationship was real.

And this relationship wasn’t real. Amelia had to remind herself of this, over and over again.

“I should get you used to my touches,” Matteo said, a promise in his eyes. “There will be many other events you have to attend as my fiancée.”

“Noted,” Amelia said breathlessly. Then her heart sank as she recalled one said event. “But you can’t honestly be expecting me to―” her voice dropped into a whisper, “―pretend to be a Hawthorne heiress.”

“There will be no need for any pretense, I assure you,” Matteo said evenly, peering into her eyes as though he could see the very shape of her soul.

Amelia gulped. “Alright. I’ll believe you, just this once.”

“Now that I’ve stolen a bit of your food, would you like to try mine?” Matteo offered. He had opted for the wagyu sirloin steak with a side of red wine. He held out his fork, and on it was a precise cube of marinated meat, its juices glistening under the light.

His eyes gazed at her, seemingly with infinite patience, as though he was coaxing out a scared animal. She hadn’t even the strength to argue that technically, he hadn’t stolen any of her food — that little bit of sauce couldn’t count, especially when it was hanging off her lips — but instead of voicing her thoughts, Amelia found herself nodding.

“Here,” Matteo said, and Amelia’s cheeks burned as she slowly leaned in.

Her lips were about to touch the food when suddenly, certain gasps and muffled chatter came from the level below, and Amelia looked over the railing to see the waiters hurriedly trying to keep a group of people out of the restaurant.

“You can’t come in here―!”

But it was to no avail. Flashing lights quickly filled the restaurant, and Amelia sucked in a breath of air through her teeth when she realized that those people were reporters. One of them made eye contact with her and promptly pointed in her direction.

“There she is!” he cried out. “Miss Kentwood, would you please comment on your recent date with the Hawthorne patriarch?”