The Playboy and the Single Mum (Vintage Love Book 2) (8 page)

Her eyelids closed for a moment and another blush colored her skin. When she opened her eyes again there was resignation but also a hint of excitement in them. “Can we at least agree that if Max is around we’re hands off, colleagues only?”

“I’m willing to play that game.” And several others he had in mind. “Let’s start now. I believe it’s your move.”

She rose from the sofa, put both hands on the arm of his chair, and leaned in. She’d had a glass of wine after dinner, the scent lingering on her breath mingling with her flowery perfume and the essential essence that was all Lexy. “I’ll probably regret this. But at the moment I can’t think why.” Her voice was husky. When she licked her lips his internal temperature skyrocketed.

“Don’t think. Just feel.” ’
Cause that’s what I’m doing.

He threaded a hand in her hair to bring her head down, his other palm already cupping her breast. When their mouths were a mere millimeter apart, a wail came screeching through the plastic receiver. “Mummy! Where are you?”

Lexy straightened with a resigned sigh. “My son and his perfect timing.”

Before he could wish her a good night, she was gone.

And so was any hope he had of getting to sleep anytime soon.

***

Lexy pulled her ringing mobile phone from her pocket as she searched for Max and Daniel. They’d disappeared after lunch, and it was time for Max’s nap.

“Yes, hello?” She answered without bothering to look at the caller display.

“Alexandra.”

Bloody hell. What did her boss want now? He’d already emailed her several times to make sure she was getting along with the client’s golden boy. If he knew just how close to “getting along” they were, he’d probably have a heart attack. At least Max’s constant presence had prevented any further slip-ups in her newly discovered sexuality. But, man, was it hard to be with Daniel all day long and not jump his bones.

“Mr. Petersen, how are you?”

“Wondering what’s going on. You’ve been with”—God, she wished he hadn’t used that term —“Daniel for five days now and not a single photo of him with a woman has appeared in the press.”

“Um, yes, I know. It’s just that he’s between races so he’s been hanging out at his brother’s house. And the photographers at the party he was at on Saturday must have missed him before he left with … a woman.”

“Not good enough. You need to restore his playboy image. Take him to a club or something. Whatever it is you young people do to waste time.”

“It’s Monday, Mr. Petersen. No one goes clubbing on a Monday.”

“Make an exception. If there are fewer people there, it’s more likely he’ll be seen. Use your womanly charms. Tell him you need to get out.”

“I’ll do my best.”
Misogynistic old bat. I should report him to HR.
Use her womanly charms. For God’s sake, it was the twenty-first century. The problem was that the way she wanted to use her womanly charms wouldn’t result in Daniel being seen with another woman.

Talk about a conflict of interest. She’d thought she’d at least be able to rely on Daniel reverting to his playboy persona in public. This assignment was going to be more work than she imagined. And, given her personal interest, possibly one of the hardest things she’d ever done. Was there some reason Daniel hadn’t been photographed with a woman on Saturday? Did it involve his still-unexplained relationship with Jacqueline?

Mr. Petersen’s nasally voice interrupted her musing. “I’ll expect a photo on the Internet by tomorrow. Or perhaps I need to find someone else to take your place. That girl on reception seemed keen.”

Asshole doesn’t even know the name of his receptionist.

“I’ll take care of it. And we leave for Russia tomorrow, so the media coverage should pick up once the practice sessions start.”

“I’ll be watching.” And with that he hung up.

His parting words sent a shiver down her spine. Thankfully, Max had taken quickly to Genevieve, although he called her Vivi. So, with a bit of luck on their side, they’d be able to keep him out of the spotlight.

“Marie, have you seen Daniel and Max?” Lexy asked the housekeeper as she passed.

“I took cookies and milk into the
petit salon
about half an hour ago for them. Your little boy is an angel. I hope that soon this house will be filled with many children. It has been too long…”

Well, they wouldn’t be Lexy’s children. But she didn’t want to deflate the housekeeper’s good mood. “Thanks, I’ll look for them there.”

There was no sound coming from inside the
petit salon
when she arrived; which, where Max was concerned, was a sure sign that she wasn’t going to like what she saw when she opened the door.

Slipping quietly into the room, she stood staring for a long moment until emotion clogged her throat and the tears threatened to fall. Daniel lay on the sofa, Max sprawled on top of him, both of them fast asleep. Max had a toy car clutched in one hand, his other fisted on Daniel’s t-shirt. Daniel’s arms were wrapped around her son, keeping him safe. She took a couple of photos with her phone, wanting to cherish this memory.

Maybe even after the racing season was over Daniel could still be part of their lives. He could pop over to their flat in London and … what? Try to fit his six-foot length onto her tiny sofa? She wasn’t delusional enough to believe that would ever happen. At the end of the season Daniel would go back to his life and she to hers. The photo would be all that remained.

Genevieve waved at her from the doorway, so Lexy tiptoed over.

“I offered to take Max, but Daniel said to leave him. He also told me to remind you about what he said on Saturday night.”

She assumed he was referring to her promise to “do one thing for herself
”
and not the implication that that one thing would be him.
It was pouring rain so that ruled out a walk around the gardens. There was a huge claw-foot bathtub in her en suite bathroom. When was the last time she’d had a soak in bubbles? This side of never.

“Thanks, Genevieve. I’m going to have a bath. Will you look after Max when he wakes?”

“But of course.”

Lexy had achieved prune-level of wrinkledness when there was a soft knock on the bathroom door. Arranging the remaining bubbles strategically, she called, “Come in,” expecting either Marie or Genevieve. The knock was too quiet to be Max.

Daniel entered, his eyes blazing with desire when he saw her lying in the tub, barely covered by the bubbles. He held a glass of red wine, accompanied by a smile that could evaporate the water in the tub.

“Glad to see you’re taking my advice. I have it on good authority, though, that bubble baths require a glass of wine for complete enjoyment.”

She was pretty sure complete enjoyment would come from sharing the bath with him. But lying here naked, and sober, she was too shy to suggest it.

“I was just about to get out.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

“Daniel.” She used her firm mother’s voice, but he just smiled in return.

“Lexy.” He mimicked her tone as he handed her the wine glass and then leaned against the sink. “I’ve already seen you mostly naked, or don’t you remember?”

Oh, she remembered all right. In fact, her body was clamoring for a reenactment. She was about to suggest that maybe he could scrub her back when a tiny body hurtled into the room yelling, “Bubbles!”

Daniel groaned. And for the first time since she became a mother, she wasn’t happy to see her son.

“Bet you regret insisting he come along now, aren’t you?” she asked with a laugh.

“You have no idea.” He tousled Max’s hair then left the room.

Actually, she did know.

The drivers’ meeting was taking forever—the usual reminders to keep within the track limits, respect the blue flags, and cautioning about pit lane speeds. What, did they think they were all new to this? By this point in the season, even the rookies were checking their social media feeds, pretending to be listening.

He’d arrived in Russia two days earlier to acclimatize and go over a few things with his team. They’d made a couple of minor aerodynamic adjustments to the car since Japan, and he was eager to get behind the wheel and test them in free practice.

Annoyingly, he was even more eager to see Lexy, and, he had to admit, Max as well. Lexy, to appease her boss, had convinced him to let her take a photo of him holding Genevieve, which she then leaked to a gossip site. Within five minutes, speculation was all over his social media accounts about the new woman in his life. If only they knew it was the woman behind the camera and not the one in his arms.

Tonight was a big gala event, and he’d convinced Lexy that she had to attend with him. He almost rubbed his hands together at the chance to spend some time with her without her delightful son and his terrible timing.

At last the meeting was over and he could retreat to the relative chaos of the team garage. There followed three more meetings with the team principal, his chief mechanic, and the PR person advising him which events he had to attend and the ones that would be nice if he made an appearance. Team sponsors trumped all, and showing at their parties was mandatory. At least there would be enough photo ops that hopefully he’d be able to keep Lexy’s boss off her back.

Speaking of whom, Lexy, Max, and Genevieve should have arrived by now. He sneaked out the rear of the garage and scored a ride with one of the other drivers back to the hotel. He had to duck into his own room for ten minutes while a couple of F1 hangers-on had a chat in the hallway. Didn’t these people know that bars and lobbies were for talking? Finally, the coast was clear and he made his way to Lexy’s room, knocking gently in case Max was sleeping.

Lexy answered but before he could even step into the room, Max flung himself at Daniel’s legs.
Don’t get too used to this—it’s only temporary.
With his arms full of wriggling boy, Lexy pulled him into the room and shut the door. He gave Max a tight hug and slipped him a toy car from his pocket before lowering the child to the floor. Excited, Max ran to Genevieve to show her his new treasure and explain to her all about the vehicle. There weren’t many cars that boy didn’t know. He was an automotive savant.

“I don’t think anyone saw us arrive,” Lexy said.

“And hello to you, too.” It would’ve been nice if Lexy had thrown herself at him as well.

“Sorry; I’m on edge.” She shook her head as if to restart her brain. “How did your meetings go today? Did they get the new aero package working?” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear; the rest was tightly restrained in a severe bun at the back of her head. His fingers itched to remove the pins and let the silky strands flow through his fingers as he kissed her. She chewed the side of her finger as she watched Max play.

He eased her hand away from her mouth, and, after making sure Max was absorbed in his new toy, kissed the tortured digit. “Relax; it’ll be fine. If anyone asks, we’ll hint that Max belongs to Genevieve. But most people here are so caught up in their own lives I doubt they’ll even notice.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry—”

He kissed her then. Kissed her long, kissed her soft, kissed her hard. Kissed her until she clung to him, her fingers wound in his hair, her other hand on his back holding him as tightly as he was her. He kissed her like a starving man would devour his first meal in weeks.

“Max,” she whispered against his lips as he pulled back fractionally to readjust his position.

“Is now in the other room with Genevieve.” Smart woman. He’d have to add a bonus to her salary.

He lowered his head again, but Lexy put a hand on his chest. “Wait. I can’t do this.”

“Why not? Max isn’t watching. I thought that’s what we agreed. We can’t take things all the way with your son in the next room, but we can at least have a taster.”

“No, I won’t be able to pretend there’s nothing going on if we make out every time we’re alone.”

Biting back a frustrated groan, he temporarily halted his assault on her senses. He was back in his world now. Time they did things his way. “I’m just living up to my reputation. You made me into an international playboy. According to you, I live for the conquest.”

“I don’t count. Move on.”

“We both know that’s not an option. We have unresolved lust issues that neither of us is going to be able to ignore much longer.”

“Daniel, please.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do—please you. Let’s go back to my room for an hour or so. The reception isn’t until eight.” He trailed his lips from her ear down to the collar of her shirt, encouraged by the quiver that shot through her.

“Max—” Her protest was weakened by the moan that escaped her lips as he rubbed his thumb over her already-hard nipple.

“Is. With. Genevieve. That’s what I’m paying her for, remember? To look after him.”

“While I’m working.”

“Or playing.”

She put both her hands on his chest and pushed. Not sufficient to move him but enough to get her message across. “I can’t do this right now.”

He’d make a strategic retreat and try again later. “All right. The reception for my team sponsor is in the main ballroom. Meet me there at eight.”

Without waiting for her to object, he left the room and headed for a cold shower.

He needed all of his focus if he wasn’t going to crash in the first corner melee on Sunday. If he didn’t deal with this frustration and distraction, he could kiss the championship goodbye right now.

Damn that woman. He had to get her out of his system before the race. He’d make love to her and be done with it. It was time to put all that playboy practice into action.

***

Lexy stepped into the noisy ballroom, scanning it for her father. Who was she kidding? She was looking for Daniel. Tonight was going to be a real test of her mettle. Could she watch him flirt with and seduce other women and not rugby tackle them? She was about to see the real Daniel Michaud. This was truly his world, where he ruled as king.

A tuxedo-clad waiter passed by and she snagged a glass of sparkling wine so she at least looked like she belonged. She took a sip.
Blecch
, Russian. No wonder almost everyone’s glasses were still full. At least she wasn’t in danger of getting drunk and throwing herself at Daniel. Her body still hummed from his kisses and caresses in her hotel room. Maybe if she laid claim to him first, he wouldn’t have to flirt with other women. Except, wasn’t that exactly what she was supposed to ensure? There was only so much aggravation a woman could take. Wanting one thing and having to do the exact opposite was tearing her apart.

A draught of air blew across her naked shoulders. She wished she hadn’t listened to Genevieve and had brought her wrap with her. Max had cheerfully waved her goodnight, telling her she looked “bootiful” before returning his attention to the book Genevieve was reading to him. A pang of jealousy had shot through her. Reading the bedtime story was her job.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and a tingle invaded her nerve endings. Even before he spoke, she knew Daniel was near. “You are magnificent,” he said in her ear. She could feel the heat from his body wrap around her from behind. She was no longer chilled. It took every ounce of strength she possessed not to lean back into him. “This is very nice. The color suits you. But I’m still waiting to see you in the blue dress.”

As she turned around, the satin of her brown gown slid against her skin like a caress. As nice as it felt, she wished it were Daniel’s hands and lips on her. This line of thought was going to end up with her in a dark corner somewhere, her photo splashed all over the Internet. She closed her eyes to try to gather her scattered brain cells, but the image of Daniel in his dark suit, pure white shirt, and green tie wouldn’t be banished. She’d seen hundreds of photos of him in formal attire while working on the initial advertising campaign, so she should have been immune. But no photo could capture the sheer power and charisma he exuded. Now, if they could package that…

“I’m saving the blue dress for your victory party on Sunday.”

“Then I’m going to win the race just to see you wear it.” His eyes devoured her. This wasn’t going to work. One look at them and people would know something was going on between them. Unless this was how he looked at every woman.

“You’ll win the race to solidify your position in the championship.” God, why was her voice so breathless?

“That’s the line I’ll tell everyone. You and me, we’ll know the truth.” His gaze roved over her again, lingering on the swell of her breasts under the satin fabric. International Playboy Daniel was in high gear. ”Are you sure you don’t want to go up to my room? I could plead a headache.”

Tempting. But she had a job to do, even though she hated it. “And miss my first F1 party?” She put a couple of feet distance between them.

“Haven’t you been to one of these before?”

“No. I was too young to attend the evening events. My parents used to go out every night, though. I’d be left in the room with the hotel babysitter. Most of the time they only spoke the local language.”

“Did you resent that? Being left behind, I mean?”

“No. Mum would dress up and look like a princess. It was one of the few times she was happy. Dad looked so handsome in his suits. And I learned a lot of languages from my babysitters.”

“Now you’re the princess who gets to go to the balls.” His gaze roved over her again. Man, was it hot in here or what?

“More like Cinderella who gets to hang out at the parties and make sure Prince Charming dances with all the real princesses.”

His jaw clenched and a muscle jumped in his cheek. “Come meet my team.”

He put his hand on her back and steered her toward a group of people. Many she recognized from watching F1 races on the telly. All greeted her warmly. She ruthlessly shut down the sensation that she was getting her family back. She couldn’t go through the withdrawals again. She had to remember it was her and Max. Period.

“Hey, everyone,” Daniel said. “This is Lexy. She’s representing Destin Designs and is supposed to make sure I don’t get into any trouble.”

“Ha, ha, good luck with that, Lexy,” one of the mechanics said.

“It will be a trial. But someone has to do it.” She let out a weary sigh that made the group laugh.

“You look familiar. Have you been around F1 before?” Alan Stewart asked. He’d been a driver when she knew him; now he was a consultant with Daniel’s team.

“Good memory. I was this high”—she put her hand at hip level—“when you knew me before. My last name is Camparelli.” She waited for the explosion and wasn’t disappointed.

“Oh my God, you’re Alexandra Camparelli!” Therein followed lots of hugs, and comments along the lines of, “I knew you were going to grow up to be a beauty.” Daniel mouthed, “I told you so,” while one of the men gave her a hug.

“Does your father know you’re here?” Alan asked. “And with Daniel Michaud?”

“Hey, I resemble that remark,” Daniel protested.

Lexy let out a brittle laugh. The closer it got, the more anxious she was about her reunion with her father. What if he didn’t welcome her with open arms? What if he turned his back on her? “No, he doesn’t. And I’d really appreciate it if you’d let me surprise him.”

“Just make sure Jean Lefebre is around when you do it. Wouldn’t want Gian-Franco to have another heart attack,” someone said.

Her father had a heart problem? Her chest tightened and it was hard to pull in a breath. What if she’d lost him without making amends for the way they’d parted?

“Jean is the doctor contracted to Formula 1 to make sure all the drivers are fit to drive. He’s Jacqueline’s husband,” Daniel clarified.

Jacqueline. The reason Lexy was here in the first place. A niggle of trepidation slid down her spine, bumping each vertebrae as it went.

“I am so glad you’re back with us, Alexandra. Give my love to your mother when you next see her,” Alan said before excusing himself from the group. She had no plans to see her mother any time soon. God, her family was such a mess. F1 did that to people. The highs were immense, but the lows unbearable for some.

As if sensing her shift in mood, Daniel put his arm around her waist. “Dance with me?”

“I don’t think that’s wise. I’m supposed to make sure you’re seen with other women.”

“You are the only woman I see.” His intense green eyes caught her gaze and she couldn’t look away. She’d been so very wrong. A playboy didn’t make love to every woman in the room. He made each woman feel like she was the only one he wanted.

Unable to deny him, or herself, she accompanied him to the dance floor and managed not to release a sigh of contentment as his arms came around her.

“Are you worried about meeting your father again?” His lips were against her temple and she closed her eyes, savoring the moment. This was probably just standard operating procedure for him. No one would notice anything different.