Page 30 of Third Crime’s A Charm (Princes Take New York #3)

Nineteen

W as it love?

Matteo suspected it might be, but so far, love stunk.

He was alone in a hotel suite and already drinking as he watched the sunrise and pondered just how fucked he was. Getting hammered before dawn was a bad sign but at least he’d pulled on a robe first. Being naked would have made it extra pathetic.

Was love the reason why Matteo couldn’t say no to Truman and why he couldn’t walk away? Whatever it was, it began the moment Matteo first caught sight of Truman and it grew stronger every day. And now, it had consumed Matteo and obliterated what little common sense he had possessed.

Elio was right: his brothers were horny idiots with soft hearts.

For years, Matteo had assumed that Theo wore the crown and would reign supreme but he had found a remarkably good man and a beautiful life in Oslo, New York.

It went without saying that Leo would never cause a scandal and Eli was too wrapped up in his work to worry about romance.

Which left Matteo with the “honor” of being the family disaster. Perhaps that was why his older brothers were so worried. They must have sensed that life had been a little too quiet and that a calamity was brewing. How much of a calamity was yet to be seen.

He grunted into his bourbon, dreading Leo’s response if the matter should go as badly as Matteo feared. His heart hoped that Truman was sincere and had meant all the things he said. But Matteo had followed his heart the first night and landed in Truman’s trap.

The question of what Truman’s definition of love was also troubled Matteo. Was it simply a matter of possession and claiming, or was Truman capable of loving someone in return? What was love worth to Truman?

If Truman truly loved Matteo, would it matter more than success and power?

If Truman was a legitimately lovesick fool, why was he running in the park with Neville for their morning briefing? What was there to conspire about that Matteo couldn’t hear? His heart argued that he was being paranoid, that it was just their routine and that Truman’s business was his own.

But Matteo’s practical, tactical brain warned that it would be his word against Truman’s if there was an investigation.

There was no way of proving who came up with the plan or that Truman was even involved with the heist because no one else knew about it.

Not a single soul and there was no evidence.

Everything Neville had delivered to the beach house was long gone.

They had a bonfire their final night and burned all the maps, brochures, blueprints, magazines, pictures…

Truman had destroyed every trace of evidence except Matteo’s notepad and the replica he had provided.

Truman also had pictures of Matteo passing off stolen goods to three accomplices.

Matteo assumed there was video of him breaking into Truman’s safe and that some of their conversations had been recorded as well.

With Truman’s legal experience and reputation, it would be easy to connect Sisi’s star to the thefts in New York and present Matteo as the head of a well-organized and prolific crime ring.

The biggest kicker was that Matteo had dug his own grave.

Each moment with Truman was another shovelful of sand and Matteo saw the hole getting deeper as he went back to the night they met, starting with the trap.

Matteo had deviated from his routine due to curiosity and lust. What would Truman have on him if Matteo had gone straight to the study as planned?

Matteo could have walked away with a slap on the wrist.

Plenty of people saw Truman captivated and doting on Matteo—from Manhattan, to Southampton, and back.

Matteo helped create that illusion and had stayed off the internet at the beach house and made sure Donna never suspected a thing.

He had even helped Truman burn the evidence, passing a bottle of champagne back and forth as they tossed things into the fire.

It had been Matteo’s idea to do the job in Manhattan instead of Chicago and he had given Truman an ironclad alibi if investigators discovered when the star was taken.

He was distinctively half-dressed and had been recorded making his way downstairs and waiting in the lobby while a younger man in a black coat and trousers was throwing smoke bombs and sneaking into Lonsdale’s room.

And then to top it all off, Matteo had lied to his brothers, Muriel, and Max.

If that wasn’t love, Matteo didn’t want to know what it was. Or how much worse he could be when he actually fell in love with someone.

He was already sick with worry about anyone he might have implicated.

Ray, Tiffany, and Mark didn’t have the same resources or privilege Matteo did, even if their legal expenses were covered.

The effects on their families, reputations, and futures would be immense.

Matteo didn’t have to worry about finding a job or getting a loan.

He would eventually recover and people would whisper behind his and his brothers’ backs, but the world wouldn’t be as kind for Matteo’s accomplices.

Truman returned as Matteo was enjoying his third drink.

“It’s a little early to start celebrating,” Truman said, wary as he gathered Matteo in his arms and kissed him. “I was hoping you’d still be in bed.”

Matteo pushed out a frustrated huff. “Me too. I thought we agreed to lay low today.”

“I am,” Truman said with a wince. “Marty knows I run every morning unless I’m dying and I needed to check in with Neville to see if he heard anything overnight. He didn’t know what to make of that plane ticket.”

“I don’t either,” Matteo murmured, wondering where he would have gone once he had landed in Paris. “I’d need a whole new wardrobe. I couldn’t take anything Neville’s touched, the nosy oaf.”

Truman leaned back, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? What could be wrong?” Matteo laughed nervously. “I often have bourbon for breakfast.” He raised his glass in salute but Truman took it before Matteo could get it to his lips.

“I was looking forward to feeding you breakfast,” he said as he towed Matteo back into the bedroom and ordered him to sit on the bed. “I just had a meeting with Marty and thought you’d want to hear about it.”

Matteo fell back on the bed, groaning. “That wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Marty’s men stopped me on the way back after I got off the elevator. He wanted to see me,” Truman said and Matteo popped up onto his elbows.

“About what?”

A wide smile spread across Truman’s face. “To apologize and make sure there were no hard feelings about last night.”

“Really? I don’t think Marty could have played his part better,” Matteo said, making Truman laugh as he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it at the bathroom.

He set his knee on the bed and crawled over Matteo.

“Marty invited us to breakfast so he could apologize but I told him to forget about it. You don’t give a fuck about him and as far as Marty knows, he’ll be on the other side of the country with a new name by the end of the week.

And I told him we had other plans and that he was making me late.

” Truman kissed him, then rested his forehead on Matteo’s.

“Tell me what’s bothering you. Is it because I went out with Neville? ”

Matteo grunted, wrinkling his nose. “I was a little annoyed about that, but I keep thinking about how little control I have now and how anything could happen tomorrow.”

“Shhh! You have nothing to worry about, I promise.” Truman angled his head and growled as his lips dragged along Matteo’s jaw. “I love you and you’ll never doubt me again after tomorrow.”

“I told you, don’t say that to me yet.” Matteo pushed his face away but Truman laughed and nipped at his fingers.

“Come on! I’m not that cruel! I’d never say it if I was going to stab you in the back.”

“I believe you. I think…” Matteo said with a heavy sigh. “I’m confused. This is why I always work alone, Truman, and I never mix business with pleasure.”

Truman made a thoughtful sound as he reached between them and untied the robe’s belt, then flipped the halves out of the way.

“But look at how good we are together.” He spit on his fingers and reached low, between Matteo’s thighs and into the cleft of his ass.

His touch was too gentle. Truman’s fingertips strummed and swirled around Matteo’s hole, making it flinch as he whimpered.

“Truman! This is exactly what I am talking about!” Matteo complained but he wiggled free and stretched for the bottle of lube on the bedside table.

He shoved it at Truman, then fell back and folded his arms behind his head.

“I can think when you aren’t here and I can see all the mistakes I’ve made.

Everything just goes…haywire in my head and other places when you’re near me. ”

“You haven’t made any mistakes,” Truman said, his voice low and reassuring as he coated his fingers and slowly pushed two into Matteo. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that, though. We’re already moving at light speed and it should scare the hell out of me but I want more.”

“More?” Matteo raised his knee and shifted, opening himself up more for Truman.

“Perfect,” Truman rumbled and reached deeper, causing Matteo’s jaw to pull into a silent sob as his prostate was stroked. “I called my accountant on Friday to see if it was a bad time to put the townhouse on the market.”

Matteo’s brows pinched despite the pressure and heat stirring deep in his core. “The townhouse? Why? It’s gorgeous! Keep going.” He closed his eyes and focused on the feel and sound of Truman’s breath wafting against his ear and his lean, lithe body pinning Matteo to the bed.

“Good.” Truman chuckled but it was strained as he nodded. “I didn’t know if you’d want to move in with me or if we should get a place together…”

“Oh.” The room spun around Matteo and got brighter.

After a lifetime of roaming and depending on other people’s generosity, Matteo had accepted that he’d never truly have a home and had never really wanted one.

But to have his own home with Truman? A home he never had to leave that was both of theirs?

Matteo’s heart ached, he wanted it so desperately.

“Now, Truman. Bitte. No more talking.” He grabbed Truman’s face and kissed him, smothering his words and the burst of joy they had caused in Matteo’s chest.

The front of Truman’s track pants were shoved down and they both swore as he slid deep, deep, deep into Matteo’s ass.

Matteo held on tight to Truman’s hair and urged him on, riding the wave of pleasure and moaning louder to drown out the truth.

He didn’t want to feel excited and hopeful if Truman was going to pull the rug out from under him on Monday.

That didn’t stop Matteo from hooking a leg tight around Truman’s waist, locking them together, and demanding more. “Don’t stop, Truman! Never stop!” he begged, tears rolling down his temples. “Bitte!”

Truman shook his head, panting and sweating as his hips pumped. “I can’t Matteo. I’m so in love with you! I’m sorry but I can’t help it!”

“Truman! Yes!” Matteo screamed as every nerve in his body ignited. “Yes! I love you too!” he cried out, then bit down hard on his lip, immediately regretting it.

“Oh, God! Matteo! Yes!” Truman laughed and he was crying as he kissed Matteo. “Yes! Love…you…so much!” He slammed forward and his body shuddered and jerked. There was a burst of slick heat in Matteo’s ass as Truman chanted his name and fought to catch his breath.

“See? There was no need to go out for a run,” Matteo said, throwing an arm over his eyes and groaning.

Truman made a dreamy sound as he nuzzled Matteo’s cheek and kissed it. “I knew you felt it too.”

“Stop. I didn’t mean it.” Matteo tried to roll away but Truman grabbed his wrist and pulled it behind his back.

He kissed Matteo and crooned softly. “You didn’t mean to say it but we both know you meant it. Stop worrying and tell me what you want for breakfast. We’ll take a shower while we wait and I’ll feed you in bed.”

Matteo couldn’t say no, as usual, and they stayed in their robes until checkout time.

But instead of feeling rested when they returned to Truman’s townhouse, Matteo was on edge and too distracted to think of anything except Truman and the meeting the following morning.

The spacious townhouse felt like it was shrinking around Matteo so he watched until Neville left to run an errand after dinner and snuck out through the kitchen.

He didn’t have a plan when he fled but Matteo left a note because he wouldn’t be back unless Truman kept his word. A long ride on the train was the first order of business and Matteo would probably end up at the Olympia, but he didn’t want to be by himself at the moment either.