Oh, she found him just as sexy as they did, but she had a ten-year plan that she had nearly accomplished, and she wasn’t about to get involved with a man and let him distract her. Especially a man who treated women like sex bunnies.
Pushing back her chair, Miller politely extricated herself to the powder room. After locking the bathroom door she leant against it, closed her eyes and felt her heartbeat start to normalise now that she was out from under Valentino’s mesmeric spell.
It didn’t help that he kept touching her, and she really needed to talk to him about his ability to follow her lead. He hadn’t taken any of her subtle hints all night. And every time he touched her—whether it was a fleeting brush of his fingers across the back of her hand at the dinner table or a more encompassing arm around her waist while sipping champagne—it made her feel as if she’d been branded.
When she had envisaged having a fake boyfriend she’d imagined someone dutifully trailing in her wake and playing a low-key, almost invisible role. But there was nothing invisible about Valentino Ventura, and it annoyed her that her own eyes were constantly drawn to him, as if he really was some god who had deigned to grace them with his presence.
Deciding she couldn’t hide out in the powder room any longer, Miller exited to find Dexter lounging against the opposite wall, waiting for her.
She didn’t want to think about Ruby’s suspicions that Dexter was interested in her as more than just a work colleague, but there was no doubt he was behaving differently towards her all of a sudden.
‘So...’ Dexter drawled, a beer bottle swinging back and forth between his fingers. ‘Tino Ventura?’
Miller smiled enigmatically in answer.
‘You do know he’s got a reputation for being the biggest playboy in Europe?’
She knew he had a reputation—but the biggest playboy? ‘You shouldn’t believe everything you read,’ she said, though by the way he’d charmed everyone at dinner she could well believe it. Women were always falling for bad boy types they hoped to reform, and even clean-shaven he looked like a fallen angel.
‘I don’t see it, you know,’ Dexter added snidely.
Miller narrowed her eyes. He might be her direct superior, but he wasn’t behaving like it right now. ‘My personal life is none of your business, Dexter. Was there something you wanted?’
‘Your part of the presentation we’re supposed to give to TJ tomorrow.’
‘I e-mailed it just before I left to come down here.’
‘Cutting it a bit fine?’
About to ask him what his problem was, she nearly screamed when she felt a warm male hand settle on the small of her back. She tried to quell the instant leap of her heart but it was already galloping away at a mile a minute.
She knew her reaction hadn’t done anything to alleviate Dexter’s scepticism about her relationship, but frankly this internal sense of excitement when Valentino came close was too unfamiliar and disconcerting to deal with head-on. She would have given anything to do what she’d done as a child in uncomfortable situations: run away to her room and lose herself in her drawings.
‘Hey, Sunshine, I wondered where you’d got to.’ Valentino’s warm breath stirred the hair at her temple, and his gaze lingered on her mouth before lifting to hers.
He was terribly good at this, Miller thought, swallowing heavily. It was just a pity that she wasn’t.
‘Just discussing work. Nothing important,’ she said breathlessly.
‘In that case, you won’t mind if I join you?’
‘Of course not.’ She smiled at Dexter, as if her world couldn’t be more perfect. Anything was better than gazing up into Valentino’s sleepy grey gaze.
‘So, by my reckoning,’ Dexter said, looking from one to the other, ‘you will have met around the time of Tino’s near fatality earlier in the year. In Germany. Funny, I don’t recall okaying any trip to Europe in—what?—August, was it? In fact, I can’t recall your last holiday at all, Miller.’
Near fatality?
Miller’s eyes flew to Valentino’s calm face and too late she realised she would of course know about this if they really were going out. Collecting herself, she attempted fascination with the conversation.
‘Miller wasn’t on holiday when we met,’ Valentino answered smoothly. ‘It was while I was recuperating in Australia.’
Dexter frowned theatrically. ‘I thought you convalesced in Paris? Your second home town?’
‘Monaco is my second home town.’
Miller noticed he hadn’t directly answered Dexter’s question. Clever.
‘So, what do you make of your run of bad luck since your recovery?’
‘It’s nice to know you’re such a fan, Caruthers.’ Valentino’s voice was smooth, but Miller felt sweat break out under her armpits.
She tried to keep her expression bland, but mild sparks of panic were shooting off in her brain. She had a vague recollection of Dexter talking sport during various meetings, but she’d had no idea he was such a motor racing fan either.
‘I follow real sports.’ The beer bottle swung a little too vigorously in his loose hold. ‘Football, rugby, boxing,’ Dexter opined.
Valentino smiled in a way that made Dexter’s comment seem as childish as it was.
Undeterred, her boss tilted his head. ‘And you know, of course, that Miller doesn’t follow any type of sport.’
‘Something I’m hoping to change once she sees me race in Melbourne next weekend.’
Miller felt like an extra in a bad theatre production, and wondered why they were talking over her head as if she was some sort of possession.
‘Ah, the race of the decade.’ Dexter’s remark was as subtle as a cattle prod.
Again, Miller had no idea what he was talking about and snuck a glance up at Valentino—to find his easy smile still in place.
‘So they say.’
She could feel the tension coming off him in waves, and knew he wasn’t as relaxed as he wanted them to believe. She couldn’t blame him. It couldn’t be easy, having Dexter grill him this way.
‘You’ll have to wear earplugs, Miller. It gets loud at the track,’ Dexter said, valiantly trying to regain a foothold in the conversation.
‘I’ll take care of Miller,’ Valentino drawled. ‘And you’d do well not to believe everything you read on the internet, Caruthers. My private life is exactly that. Private.’
There was no mistaking the warning behind his words and Miller stared up at Valentino, slightly shocked at the ruthless edge in his tone. Gone was the dishevelled rogue who had baited her so mercilessly in the car on the drive down, and in his place was a lean, dangerous male you’d have to be stupid to take on.
And what was Dexter doing, talking about her as if they had a more personal relationship than they did?
Miller was about to take him aside and ask him but TJ chose that moment to intrude.
‘There’s the guest of honour!’ he announced, his eyes fixed on Valentino.
Guest of honour? Since when?
Miller was starting to feel like Alice down the rabbit hole, but at least she could tell that TJ had backed off in his openly male interest in her; his awe of Valentino clearly overrode his lustful advances.
Almost ignoring her completely, TJ launched into a spiel about his newest car on order and Miller was glad of the reprieve.
Eyes gritty with tiredness, she wished herself a hundred miles away from this scene.
Then she noticed the men looking at her and realised she’d been unwittingly drawn into a conversation she hadn’t been following. Turning blindly to Valentino for assistance, she immediately became lost in his heated gaze.
Her breath stalled and she had to remind herself that this was just pretend. But, wow, the man could go into acting when his racing career ended and win a truckload of awards.
Hearing her phone blast Ruby’s unique ringtone in her evening purse, Miller latched onto the excuse like a lifeline, not quite meeting Valentino’s eyes as she slipped aw
ay from the group.
Heading straight for the softly lit Japanese garden she’d glimpsed from the dinner table, she let the subtle scent of gardenias and some other richly perfumed flower wash over her as she walked.
* * *
Tino watched Miller wander down the steps and along a rocky pathway towards the infinity pool that glowed as cobalt-blue as her eyes.
Dexter laughed at something TJ had said and Tino glanced back to find that his eyes were also on Miller. As they had been most of the night. Even a blind man could tell that they had history together. And the way her boss had tried to stamp his ownership all over her had Tino wondering if Miller hadn’t needed an escort this weekend for more than just a deterrent for her avaricious client. Perhaps she needed cover for an office affair as well.
He was sure he’d heard talk about Dexter being married, and as a third generation Italian from a solid family background if there was one thing Tino didn’t condone it was extramarital affairs.
His brows drew together as he considered the possibility that Miller and Dexter were lovers, and he didn’t like the feeling that settled in his gut.
Was that why she flinched every time he got within spitting distance of her? She didn’t want her “real” boyfriend to get jealous? If so, she’d soon learn that he wouldn’t play that particular game. Not for another second.
Tossing back the last of his red wine, Tino placed the glass on a nearby table before heading down the steps to the garden.
Obviously hearing his quiet footfalls on the loose pebbles, Miller turned, her face half in shadow under the warm light given off by the raised lanterns that edged the narrow path.
Tino stopped just inside the wide perimeter he’d come to recognise as her personal space and her eyes turned wary. As well they might.
‘I came down here to be alone,’ she said, her dainty chin sticking out at him.
Tino widened his stance. ‘Are you having an affair with Caruthers?’
‘What?’
She seemed genuinely appalled by the question, but she needed to know this was a boundary he wouldn’t cross. ‘Because if you are this little ruse is over.’
Her gorgeous eyes narrowed at his blunt comment.
‘Of course I’m not having an affair with Dexter. But even if I was it would be none of your business.’
‘Wrong, Sunshine. You made it my business this weekend.’
Miller shook her head. ‘That’s rubbish. You were the one who offered to come, and I can tell you I’m not very happy with the job you’re doing so far.’
Tino felt a surge of annoyance that was as much because of his attraction to her as because of her snotty attitude. ‘Want to explain that?’
She leaned in towards him and he got a whiff of her sexy scent. Unconsciously, he breathed deep. ‘You agreed that you would follow my lead, but despite your silver-tongued sophistication you’ve failed to pick up on any of my signals.’
‘Silver-ton...? Sunshine, you are deluded.’
‘Excuse me?’
She mirrored his incredulous tone and Valentino didn’t know whether to put her over his knee or just kiss her. The woman was driving him crazy. Or her scent was. He’d never smelt anything so subtly feminine before, and on a woman who seemed determined to hide her femininity it didn’t bear thinking about. Like his unusually possessive exchange with her deadbeat boss inside.
‘I never promised to follow your lead. That was an assumption you made before you so imperiously waltzed out the door. And if there’s nothing going on between you and Caruthers, why is he behaving like a jealous boyfriend?’
‘Why are you?’
‘Because it’s my job. Apparently. Now, answer the question.’
Her gaze turned wary again. ‘I don’t know what’s up with Dexter except that he doesn’t believe you and I are a couple.’
Tino rocked back on his heels and regarded her. ‘I’m not surprised.’
She flashed him an annoyed look. ‘And why is that? Because I’m not your usual type?’
Since when was a ballbreaker any man’s usual type?
‘Because you act like a startled mouse every time I touch you.’
‘I do not,’ she blustered. ‘But if I do it’s because I don’t want you touching me.’
‘I’m your boyfriend. I’m supposed to touch you.’
‘Not at a business function.’ She frowned.
He felt completely exasperated with her. ‘Anywhere.’ His voice had dropped an octave because he realised just how much he had enjoyed touching her all night. How much he wanted to touch her now.
Incredible.
‘That’s not me,’ she said on a rush.
Her tongue snaked out to moisten her heart-shaped mouth; that succulent bottom lip was now glistening invitingly.
Valentino thrust his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and locked his eyes with hers. ‘If you want people to believe we’re a couple you’re going to have to let me take the lead, because you clearly know diddly squat about relationships.’
She looked at him as if he’d just told her the world was about to end. ‘Now who’s making assumptions? For your information, if we were in a real relationship something else you would know is that I’m not the demonstrative type.’
She had thrust her chin out in that annoyingly superior way again, and Valentino couldn’t resist loading her up. ‘Well, that’s too bad, Miller, because if we were a real couple you’d know that I am.’
Which wasn’t strictly true. Yes, he liked to touch, but he didn’t usually feel the need to grab hold of his dates and stamp his possession all over them in public—or in private come to that. The only reason he had with Miller was because she had avoided eye contact with him most of the evening, and with all the interest in their relationship he’d had to do something to make it appear genuine.
In fact she should be thanking him for taking his role so seriously instead of busting his balls over it.
‘Listen, lady—’
‘No, you listen.’ She stabbed a finger at him as his mother used to do when he was naughty. ‘I am in charge here, and your inability to read my signals is putting this whole farce in jeopardy.’
Tino thrust a hand through his hair and glanced over his shoulder as the lilting murmur of chattering guests wafted on the slight breeze. ‘Is that so?’ he said softly.
‘Yes.’ She folded her arms. ‘Trust me—I know what I’m doing.’
‘Good, because right now anyone watching you spit at me like an angry cat will think we’re having a humdinger of an argument.’
‘That’s fine with me.’ She gave him a cool smile that he knew was meant to put him in his place. ‘It will make our relationship seem more authentic than anything else that’s gone on tonight.’
Valentino saw red at her self-righteous challenge.
He stepped farther into her personal space and gripped her elbows, gratified when her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.
‘What are you doing?’ she demanded in a furious whisper.
Yeah, what are you doing, Ventura?
Tino stared down at her, watching the pulse-point in her neck pick up speed. His body hummed with sexual need and he wondered what it was about her he found just so damned tempting.
She was more librarian than seductress, and yet she couldn’t have had more effect on his body if she’d been standing in front of him naked. It was a thought that was a little disconcerting and one he instantly pushed aside.
He wasn’t that attracted to her. But he was that annoyed with her, and while he might not have ever felt the need to put a woman in her place before he did now. And he’d enjoy it.
‘Why, Miller, I’m just doing what you asked. I’m going to make this farce of a relationship look more authentic.’
Before she could unload on him he took full advantage of her open mouth and planted his own firmly over the top of hers in a kiss that was more about punishment than pleasure.
Or at least it was mean
t to be. Until she stupidly tried to wriggle away from him and he had to clamp one hand at the back of her head and the other over her butt to hold her still.
She fell into him, her soft breasts nuzzling against his chest, her nipples already diamond-hard. They both stilled; heat and uncertainty a driving force between them. Her silky hair grazed the back of his knuckles and his fingers flexed. Her eyes slid closed, her soft whimper of surrender sending a powerful surge of lust through his whole body.
Her silky hair slid over his knuckles and made his fingers flex, and then she made a tiny sound that turned him harder than stone.
Tino couldn’t have stopped his tongue from plunging in and out of the moist sweetness of her mouth if he’d had a gun to his head. All day he’d wondered if she’d taste as good as her summery scent promised, and now he had his answer.
Better.
So much better.
He was powerless to pull back, his brain as stalled as the Mercedes he’d accidentally flooded in the second race of his professional career.
He gave a deep groan of pleasure as her arms wound around his neck, and he gripped her hips to pull her pelvis in tightly against his own.
His arousal jerked as it came into contact with her soft belly, and it was all he could do not to grind himself against her.
So much for not being that attracted to her.
He urged her lips to open even wider and she didn’t resist when he possessed her mouth in a carnal imitation of the way his body wanted to possess hers. An instantaneous fire beat flames through his body, and her low, keening moans of pleasure were making him hotter still.
He had to have her.
Here.
Now.
His hand slid to her bottom, the outside of her thighs, drawing her in and up so that he could settle more fully in the tempting vee of her body. He felt her fingers move into his hair, her feminine curves pressing closer as she rubbed against him. Tino couldn’t hold back another groan—and nearly exploded when he heard someone clearing their throat behind him.
Living the Charade Page 5
