Swallowing hard, she was just contemplating how foolish she would feel if she gave them her name and they rejected her when a woman in a chic black suit rushed forward.
‘Ms Jacobs?’
‘Yes.’
Thank God. Someone knew her name.
‘My name is Chrissie. Mr Ventura asked me to show you in.’
Miller smiled, ready to kiss Valentino’s feet for his thoughtfulness. Straightening her spine, she followed Chrissie into the brightly lit store.
Faces turned towards her but she ignored everyone as the attractive aide wound a path between glamorous, laughing guests holding sparkling glasses of wine and champagne. The room was buzzing with energy and it grew steadily more frenetic the further she went—until Chrissie stepped aside and Miller knew why.
Valentino stood in the centre of a small circle of admirers wearing a severely cut pinstriped suit and an open-necked snowy white shirt. He looked so polished and poised, so sinfully good-looking, her mind shut down and all she could do was stare.
Having chosen black trousers and a gold designer top carefully from Mickey’s inspired collection, and redone her hair in its normally sleek style, Miller still felt utterly exposed, stripped bare, when Valentino’s eyes honed in on her like a radio device searching out a homing beacon.
God, she was in trouble. Big trouble. He was just so beautiful, with his dishevelled sable hair and five o’clock shadow, and her body knew his, had kissed every inch of him. The urge to bolt was overwhelming, but then he smiled and she exhaled a bucketload of air. It would be all right. She was fine.
Her toes curled in her strappy heels as he walked towards her, his eyes glittering.
‘You look beautiful,’ he murmured as he captured her hand and brought it to his lips in an age-old gesture.
Miller’s stomach flipped and she couldn’t tear her eyes from his. ‘Funny, I was just thinking the same about you. Though I wasn’t going to mention it on account of your ego and your current cheer squad, lapping you up like Christmas pudding.’
Valentino threw his head back and laughed and Miller felt riveted to the spot. Did he have any idea that he was so completely irresistible? Yes, of course he did. The people around them couldn’t take their eyes off him.
‘How did you spend your day?’ he asked, smiling down at her.
‘I worked—’
‘Now, there’s a newsflash,’ he teased.
‘Yes, well. I spoke to Dexter, and although he hasn’t forgiven me for what I said to TJ I don’t think he’s going to do anything to jeopardise my promotion.’
‘Good.’ He grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and handed it to her. ‘When are you going to start painting again?’
Miller was exasperated that he had discovered her most secret dream.
‘Valentino, don’t ask me that.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it was a childish dream.’
‘Not childish. Daring. A dream unhampered by adult limitations. Perhaps it’s time you stopped hiding behind that wall you protect yourself with and go fot it.’
‘I will if you will.’
The instant the words were out she held her breath, her heart hammering.
His eyes pierced her but there was no hostility behind them, just reluctant admiration. ‘I forgot you were such a shrewd operator. Come on—I have to mingle.’
That easily he closed her down, and although it made her feel slightly hollow inside she refused to address the feeling.
With Valentino beside her she felt carefree, as if he had flicked a switch inside her, and as much as she fought against the uncertainty of her emotions she felt more like herself now than she ever had.
She watched him handle a group of business executives with ease and aplomb and for a moment envied him his sheer confidence and charisma. There was just something about him that was devastatingly attractive—and it wasn’t just the way he looked. It was his sense of humour, his chivalry, his deep voice, his keen intelligence...
Miller sucked in a breath as a shot of pure terror made her chest hurt.
She was falling for him.
No. It couldn’t be true. She wouldn’t let it be true. But...
As if sensing her distress, Valentino turned to her, his eyes intense as they swept over her. Burned into her.
‘Miller, are you okay?’
Miller stared up into his concerned gaze.
‘I’m fine,’ she answered automatically.
His gaze narrowed, sharpened, and Miller had a horrible feeling that he could see into her deepest self.
His hand reached for hers. ‘You’re sure?’
No, she was far from sure. But what could she say? That she thought her feelings for him were deeper than his for her? She shook her head, and his frown deepened.
Realising she was behaving like a nutcase, Miller pulled herself together. She wasn’t falling in love with him; she was too smart to do that.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HE really should be worried about getting himself into the mental space required to win pole position for tomorrow’s race but for some reason he wasn’t. The race was less than twenty-four hours away, and he wondered if he had time to make a quick detour on his way to the track.
He probably should be worried about how he felt about Miller as well, but so far he’d refused to think about it—and he was going to continue doing so until after the race.
It was true he was starting to entertain some thoughts about not finishing things with her straight away...but the jury was still out on that one.
And it wasn’t just because of the sexual pleasure she brought him—though that was astounding. It was that he liked being with her. He’d even let her convince him to try Mexican food yesterday. He smiled at the memory. He hadn’t planned on eating much—his team manager would have thrown a fit if he’d deviated from his strict diet this close to a race—but he hadn’t needed discipline to tell her he’d pass.
‘What are you thinking about?’
He glanced at her, sitting beside him in his Range Rover, her long legs curled to the side. The question had become a running joke between them since Monday night.
‘That bean mixture you tried to force-feed me yesterday.’
‘Enchiladas.’
He shuddered, and she rolled her eyes.
‘I did not try to force-feed you. There must be something wrong with your tastebuds.’
‘I promise you there’s nothing wrong with my tastebuds, Sunshine.’ He watched her blush and brought her fingertips to his lips.
He grinned as she smiled, and the sudden realisation that he was relaxed and happy jolted him. Often he had to force those feelings, but right now they were as genuine as she was.
‘Any news from TJ?’ He knew the man had agreed to part of Miller’s business proposal, but the crafty old bastard was holding back on the rest until he found out his own decision about representing Real Sport.
Miller had insisted that he not do it, but he’d turned the matter over to his publicist anyway.
‘Not yet. But I’m confident he’ll give us the rest of his business in due course.’
Tino was too, but talking business reminded him again of one of his own little projects that he’d neglected of late.
Deciding that he had enough time, he turned the car off the next exit ramp, just before the Westgate Bridge, that led to the backstreets of Yarraville.
‘This isn’t the way to Albert Park,’ Miller said, curiosity lighting her voice.
‘I want to show you something first.’
He pulled into a large empty car park and cut the engine.
‘This is a go-carting track.’
‘Yep. Go Wild.’
Miller followed him out of the car, her sexy legs encased in denim jeans and cute black boots.
‘Why are we here?’
‘I want to check it out.’
‘I think it’s closed.’
‘It is.’ He reached the doubl
e glass doors and used a key to open it. ‘I bought the place two months ago, when I was bored convalescing. I’ve had a lot of work done on it, but I haven’t been back for a while.’
He walked into a dimly lit cavernous room, the smell of grease, sawdust and petrol making him breathe deep. A sense of wellbeing settled over him as he took in the changes since the last time he had visited.
Miller walked past him, clearly impressed by the view of a twisting track that took up most of the space.
She wrinkled her nose. ‘It smells of stale chips.’
He hadn’t noticed that.
‘I think the kitchen is the next thing to be overhauled. This is the little kids’ area,’ he explained, walking towards one of the barriers. ‘The bigger kids’ track is out back.’
‘Do we have time to see it?’
‘Sure—hey, Andy?’
‘Tino. I wasn’t expecting you.’ A tall, lanky man in a plaid shirt that had seen better days and grease-streaked jeans loped towards them.
Tino clasped his friend’s hand. ‘Andy, this is Miller Jacobs. Miller, this is my centre manager and fellow visionary, Andy Walker.’
‘Hello.’
Miller took Andy’s hand and Tino was slightly annoyed with himself for automatically stepping into her personal space when he registered Andy’s very male appraisal of her.
They might be sleeping together right now, but that didn’t mean she belonged to him in any way. The words he’d thrown at Caruthers at the weekend—“Miller is mine!”—reregistered in his mind and pulled him up short.
‘Tino?’
He blanked his expression and cast off the unsettling notion that he’d well and truly crossed into a no-go zone with Miller. ‘Sorry, I missed that last bit.’
‘I said the main track is finished,’ Andy repeated. ‘Did you get my text last Wednesday?’
‘I did. That’s why I thought I’d stop by.’
‘Come on. I’ll show you.’
Clamping down on his worrying thoughts, Tino followed Andy towards the rear of the building and out into the bright sunshine, shielding his eyes as he took in the track.
‘It’s huge.’ Miller exclaimed behind him. ‘Like a mini-racetrack.’
Tino smiled. ‘That’s because it is.’
‘I know that,’ she scoffed. ‘I just wasn’t expecting it to be that big.’
‘Want to go out on it?’
‘You mean walk around it?’
‘Not walking.’ He turned to Andy. ‘Any chance you can pull a couple of carts out?’
‘Sure.’
Andy grinned like a happy Labrador and Tino enjoyed the look of surprise on Miller’s stunning face.
‘I’ve never driven a go-cart before.’
‘There’s nothing to it.’
Five minutes later they were both kitted out in helmets and gloves, and once he’d fixed Miller into her cart he climbed into his own.
‘We’re not racing each other,’ she informed him nervously.
Wondering if she would get the bug, he smiled. ‘Remember it’s just like driving a normal car only the gears are on the steering wheel and there’s no clutch. Right foot is accelerator and left is brake. Other than that there’s nothing to it.’
He watched as she revved the engine, unexpectedly distracted when her face glowed. ‘One more thing,’ he called above the throaty whine of the carts. ‘These engines are more powerful than the usual carts, so go easy on the first few laps. I’ll go first, so you can follow my line as you learn the track.’
‘Ha—you’re going first because you can’t stand being second.’
Valentino smiled. She’d got that right.
He gunned his engine and put the cart into gear. The carts were fixed with a side mirror, so he kept his eye on her as they did a couple of laps.
Both he and Andy had designed the carts, and he was impressed at how well they handled.
After five laps he pulled his cart to a stop near the starting line and waited for Miller to pull up beside him.
‘How was it?’
Her face was flushed from the light wind and her eyes were glowing with excitement. Oh, yeah, she definitely had the bug.
‘I think you could turn me into a speed demon.’ She grinned. ‘This is amazing. But they seem a bit powerful for kids.’
Valentino found himself once again captivated by her smile, those eyes that shifted from aquamarine to almost indigo when she was aroused. ‘They’re for big kids. Teenagers, adults. This is a specialised track.’
‘Great to hire out to corporations for bonding sessions.’
‘Maybe.’ He hadn’t thought that far ahead yet.
‘I have an idea.’
She leaned towards him conspiratorially and his eyes instantly fell to the deep V the movement made in her black T-shirt.
‘What?’
‘I’ll race you!’
It took him a second to get his mind off her cleavage, and by that time she was already two cart lengths ahead of him. Valentino felt his competitor’s spirit champing at the bit.
Little witch. She had deliberately distracted him.
As he followed her the feeling that he was very much in trouble with this new, more relaxed Miller returned. In fact, possibly he’d been in trouble all along.
He’d sensed this latent fire in her nature many times over the weekend at TJ Lyons’s, and after listening to her story about her childhood he could see how she had locked herself down to a certain extent to achieve her goals. Which he admired. It took a lot of fortitude to achieve what she had done, and even though he felt that her reasoning had been a little skewed by her mother’s fears, he couldn’t fault her execution. She’d devised a plan for herself and she’d worked diligently to achieve it. A bit like himself.
Tino kept pace with her, challenging her lead on one of the easier corners but never taking over. For once he was happy to take the back seat in a competition.
He came up beside her and signalled one more lap. He saw determination set in her face and had to smile. If she but knew it he could take her in a heartbeat.
He upped the pressure as they headed towards the home straight and his heart nearly exploded in his chest as her cart veered to the side and headed full speed towards a railing that had yet to be lined with safety material.
‘The brake! Dammit, Miller, hit the brake!’
He knew she couldn’t hear him, and he was powerless to do anything but watch. It was like seeing his father head towards that concrete barrier all over again. The feelings of pain and loss were so powerful, so ferocious, he tasted bile in his mouth.
By some dumb stroke of luck her car pulled up an inch before the railing. Tino vaulted out of his cart and wrenched her helmet off before he’d taken his next breath.
‘What were you thinking?’ he all but bellowed as he took in her wild eyes and laughing face.
‘Oh, my God. I nearly hit the rail!’ Her voice was vibrating with both adrenalin and mild shock.
‘That was a bloody stupid thing to do.’
‘I didn’t mean to,’ she said indignantly. ‘My heel got caught under the brake pedal.’
Her heel... Tino glanced down at her feet and noted the delicate heels on boots he’d only seen as cute. Damn, he hadn’t even considered her footwear when he’d made the impromptu decision to take her out on the track.
He swore under his breath. Ironically, he’d never felt more scared of anything in his life than seeing Miller hurtle towards that railing.
‘Hey, relax.’ She was still smiling as she pulled herself out of the cart. ‘It was just a bit of— Oh!’ She threw her hand out and gripped his forearm as her legs buckled beneath her weight. ‘My legs feel like jelly.’ She laughed and locked her knees. ‘I think that was better than sex.’
Tino shook his head, his sense of humour gone. ‘Those carts top out at sixty ks an hour. You could have been seriously hurt.’
And why was he yelling at her when it was his own fault?
‘I’m sorry if you were worried.’ She tightened her grip, suddenly becoming aware of his over-reaction at the same time as he did.
‘Of course I was worried. I don’t think we have insurance on this place yet.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’ She looked stricken. ‘Are you okay?’
Tino collected the helmets. ‘Fine.’ He clamped down on his emotions with vicious intent, doing his best to stanch the fierce male rage that flooded him. The desire to grab her, crush her up against the nearest wall and pump himself inside her was like a savage animal riding him hard.
Instead, he shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, and stalked off towards the equipment room. He could see Andy striding across the track and deliberately headed in the other direction. He needed to do something. Hit something.
‘Tino!’ Miller called after him, and he could hear her clipped footsteps on the concrete behind him. He lengthened his strides. ‘Tino?’
Dimly he registered that she had stopped walking, and he pivoted around and stared at her. Her beautiful face was pale with concern. She approached him with the caution of a lion tamer without a whip and chair.
‘Don’t walk away. Please.’
Her quiet voice set off a riot of emotions, and right up there with wanting to physically take her—to physically brand her—was the urge to hold her and keep her safe. For ever. And that was the moment he realised he was shaking.
With the kind of lethal precision that was used to construct one of his beloved racing cars Tino shut down everything inside him.
‘I have to get to the track. I’ve wasted enough time here.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘MA’S finally got her wish, I see.’
Valentino turned at the sound of his older brother’s voice and kept his irritation in check. He’d been enjoying a moment’s quiet after being inundated with well-wishers and pseudo-virgins at his mother’s charity extravaganza all night, but fortunately now the guests seemed to have settled—chatting, dancing and enjoying the view from one of Dante’s premier hotels.
Living the Charade Page 15