Living the Charade (15 page)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

‘M
A
’
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.

‘What’s that?’ he asked, feigning interest.

‘One of her sons has found love at her famous event.’ Dante glanced towards the dance floor where Miller was dancing.

Tino glowered at him. ‘I’m not even going to pretend I don’t know what you’re getting at.’

‘That’s good. We can cut straight to what you’re intending to do about it instead. Should I be shining my shoes?’

‘Not unless you’re planning to go back to school,’ Tino said lightly. ‘I’m not in love with Miller,’ he added dismissively. ‘In case that was your next inopportune comment.’

He’d rather Dante harangue him about the big race tomorrow than a woman who was already constantly on his mind. He glanced at the dance floor where Miller was teaching his twelve-year-old nephew to waltz, and his body throbbed at the pleasurable memory of their lovemaking an hour earlier when he had returned to their penthouse suite.

Not that he’d meant it to be lovemaking. What he’d meant it to be was rough and raw sex to put them squarely back on the footing they’d started out on.

He’d spent six stressful hours at the track, secured second off the grid for tomorrow’s race, and endured a gruelling press conference that had focused as much on his new “girlfriend” as it had on tomorrow’s race.

All day he’d ignored his over-reaction to Miller’s near accident, and the effort it had taken to keep his emotions under lock and key and be able to perform on the track had worn thin.

When he’d returned to the room and found Miller standing beside the bed in a demi-cup bra and matching thong he hadn’t even bothered to say hello.

He frowned, memory turning him hard as a rock.

No, he hadn’t said hello. She’d glanced up, half startled to see him as he’d prowled silently into the bedroom, and then she’d been against the wall and he’d been between her legs before he’d even thought about it.

He’d barely leashed his violent need for her, and yet once again she’d been right there with him. And, just as she had a tendency to do, she’d managed to twist the final few minutes of their coupling so that he was no longer the one in control. This time she’d insisted that he look at her with just the whisper of his name, and they’d flown over the edge together in an endless rush of pleasure.

Her sweet mouth still looked a little bruised, and as for the dress she had on... He took back his declaration that Mickey knew nothing about women’s fashion. The chocolate-brown silk and froth creation clung to every curve and set off her eyes and skin to perfection. He’d never actually seen a more beautiful woman in his life, and his latent fear of tomorrow’s race paled in comparison to the feelings she raised in him.

She was in his head—hell, she had been in the car with him at the track that afternoon, and that couldn’t happen.

‘You haven’t taken your eyes off her all night and you’ve barely gone near her,’ Dante drawled.

Tino tipped the contents of his glass of iced water down his parched throat. ‘That’s your definition of love?’ he mocked, forcing his tone to reflect bored nonchalance. ‘No wonder you struggle to keep a woman.’

Dante laughed softly. ‘That’s my definition of a man who’s still running.’

‘Let me repeat,’ Tino bit out. ‘I am not in love with Miller Jacobs.’

‘What’s the problem with it?’ Dante was watching Miller now, his eyes alight with admiration. ‘It was bound to happen some day. You’re a lover, Tino, not a fighter. And she
is
stunning.’

‘You’re calling me soft?’ He ignored the instinct to go for his brother’s throat.

‘I’m telling you I think she’s great, and if you don’t go get her I might.’

Valentino knew Dante was baiting him but even so his brother’s soft taunt twisted the knots in his gut.

‘Okay.’ Dante held up his hands in mock surrender, even though Tino hadn’t moved a muscle. ‘I take back the not a fighter bit... But seriously, man, why fight it?’

Tino turned his back on the dance floor. ‘You know why.’ He sighed. ‘My job.’

‘So quit.’

Tino was shocked by Dante’s suggestion. ‘Would you give up your multi-billion dollar hotel business for a woman?’

Dante shrugged. ‘I can’t imagine it, but...never say never. Isn’t that the adage? You’ve done it for fifteen years and you have an omen flapping over your head the size of an albatross. I don’t think your time will be up tomorrow, if that helps, but why risk it?’

Tino knew Dante was remembering the day his father had crashed, something neither brother ever talked about, but he felt better now, knowing the reason behind Dante’s topic of conversation. ‘Did Ma or Katrina put you up to this?’

‘You think the girls tried to get me to stop you racing? Ma would never do that. She’s always been a free spirit. No.’ He shook his head. ‘There was just something different about you on the track today. As if you were...’

He frowned, searching for a word Tino didn’t want him to find.

‘Distracted.’
Yep, that was the one.
‘I thought maybe you were thinking it was time for a change.’

‘In conversation, yes,’ Tino bit out tersely.

The fact that his brother had noticed his earlier tension before the qualifying session was more concerning to him than if either one of the females in their family
had
sicced Dante onto him.

‘Fair enough.’ Dante took the heavy silence between them for what it was—disconnection. ‘I won’t push it. God knows I’d hate someone to push me. But I’d avoid Katrina if I were you. She’s already trying to work out who will be flower girls to Toby and Dylan’s pageboys.’

* * *

Miller stood to the side of the sparkling room, only half listening to Katrina’s friendly chatter, her body still tingling from Valentino’s earlier lovemaking when he had returned from the track. He hadn’t even greeted her when he’d walked into the room—just backed her against the wall like a man possessed and taken her.

It had been fast and furious, and although he had shown her the same consideration as always she couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been treating her as just another pit lane popsy—someone to use and discard straight after.

After her near accident at the go-cart track that morning his emotional withdrawal had been handled with military-like precision.

Which on some level she understood. She had been a complete bag of nerves watching him whip his car around the track during the qualifying sessions at speeds that made the go-carts look like wind-up toys, so she could only imagine how badly he had felt when she had lost control of the cart.

What she couldn’t understand—what she
hated
—was the way he politely maintained that everything was still normal between them.

It was too much like the time her parents had sat her down to tell her they were separating, pretending that they were happy with the decision while they each seethed with anger and hurt below the surface.

Their denial of how they really felt had made dealing with the separation nearly impossible, because Miller had
known
something wasn’t right, and yet the one time she had been brave enough to broach the subject with her mother she had brushed her off and made her feel stupid.

Which was why, she realised, she had let Valentino give her the silent treatment. She hadn’t been brave enough to open herself up to that kind of hurt again.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t a failsafe plan, because without her even being aware of it the unthinkable had happened.

She had fallen in love with him.

The uncomfortable realisation had hit her when she’d been pressed deliciously against the hotel wall with his body buried deep inside hers.

At that moment when he had looked at her a spiral of emotion had caused her heart to expand, and she’d shattered around him in an agony of pleasure and longing.

She’d told herself it wasn’t possible to fall in love in such a short space of time, but her heart had firmly overridden her head—as it had always done with Valentino Ventura.

And now, feeling like a liferaft set adrift, she understood why people did crazy things for love. She understood what her father had been talking about when he’d said that it was too painful to visit her after she had left with her mother. He’d had his heart broken. The sudden wave of understanding made her eyes water.

Blinking back the memories, she smiled at Katrina and pretended she’d been listening—and then at her next words she really was.

‘I never thought I’d see my brother so in love. He can’t stop looking at you.’

Couldn’t stop looking at her? He hadn’t looked at her once.

Well, okay, she had seen him glancing her way a couple of times, but she’d have called that glowering at her, not the benign version of
looking
. And he’d turned away each time before their eyes could properly connect.

Which was ironic, because she was supposedly here to prevent him from being accosted by every unattached woman at the ball, and since they weren’t behaving like a couple the women had been lining up to get to him in droves. In fact, if she’d known he was going to completely ignore her, she would have brought a numbering system to help the whole process go more smoothly. Sort of like a speed dating service. Give everyone their five minutes and wait for him to choose her replacement.

Miller felt a spurt of anger take over from the intense pain that thought engendered, and latched onto it.

He might not want to continue things with her, but that didn’t give him the right to treat her so poorly. It wasn’t as if she would suddenly develop into a needy person who wouldn’t let him go. She had known it was going to end. What she hadn’t expected was that she would enjoy being part of a couple so much. She had been so fiercely independent for so long the thought hadn’t occurred to her. But with Valentino... He made her feel so much. Made her want so much. Was that why he was avoiding her so thoroughly? Had he guessed her guilty secret?

The thought that he had horrified her. She might feel as if she was ready to face a lot of things she hadn’t before in her professional life, but personally she was very far from ready to “squeeze the fear”. Certainly not with a man who would never feel for her the same way she felt for him.

But it was one thing to deceive her workplace about her relationship with Valentino, which she had hated doing, and quite another to deceive Valentino’s loving family. She didn’t think Valentino would care if she corrected Katrina.

‘Actually, Valentino isn’t in love with me.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure. He might not have said—’

Miller put her hand on Katrina’s arm. ‘I only met Valentino last week. The only reason I’m here with him now is because he helped me out of a bind and pretended to be my boyfriend.’ She saw Katrina’s eyes widen with unbridled curiosity and shook her head. ‘Don’t ask—it’s a long story. Suffice it to say I became unwell, Valentino helped me out, and...here I am. But I’m going home tomorrow.’

Katrina turned compelling blue-grey eyes on her. ‘But you have feelings for my brother?’

Miller inclined her head. No point in denying what was clearly obvious to Valentino’s sister. She shrugged. ‘Like every other woman on the planet.’

‘So you’re going to do what he does?’ Katrina gently chided.

Miller’s brow scrunched in confusion.

‘You’re going to make light of it?’

‘No, you’re wrong. I don’t make light of anything.’ She gave a self-deprecating laugh. ‘I’m way too serious; it’s one of my faults.’

Katrina pulled a face. ‘I know my brother can be intensely brooding and unapproachable at times, but don’t give up on him. He’s protected himself from getting hurt for so long I think its second nature to him now. After our father’s death he changed, and not—’

‘Giving away family secrets again, Katrina?’

A biting voice savagely cut through his sister’s passionate diatribe and Miller cringed. He stood behind her, legs braced wide and larger than life in a superbly cut tuxedo that made him look even more like a devil-may-care bad-boy than his jeans and T-shirts.

‘Hello, little brother. Are you having a good time?’ Katrina greeted him merrily.

‘No. And I need to go. I’ll see you at the track tomorrow, no doubt. Miller?’

He held out his arm for her to take and Miller did so, but only because she didn’t want to cause a scene in front of his sister. ‘It was lovely to meet you, Katrina.’

‘Likewise.’ Katrina leant in close. ‘Don’t let his scowl put you off. He’s harmless underneath.’

Oh, she was so wrong about that, Miller thought miserably. Valentino had the power to hurt her like no one else ever had, and she was really peeved she had given him that power over her. Because it was her own stupid fault. He’d been honest right from the start.

Halfway across the room, Miller tugged on his arm. ‘I might stay on a bit longer, if that’s okay?’

God, when had she been reduced to sounding like a Nervous Nelly?

‘Why?’

Because I don’t want to go upstairs with you in this mood and have you rip my heart to pieces.

‘I’m having a good time.’

‘I don’t want you talking to my family about me
or
my father.’

His voice was cold and she now wondered if he really was leaving because he needed to get sleep and prepare for the race tomorrow, or because he assumed she’d keep trying to wheedle secrets out of his family about him.

‘I didn’t ask Katrina anything,’ she denied. ‘She assumed that you had feelings for me. We both know you don’t and I told her this whole thing was fake.’

Valentino grabbed her elbow and pulled her to the side of the room to let a couple pass by.

‘Why would you say that?’