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Living the Charade(28)

By:Michelle Conder


She was under no illusions as to why he had asked her to stay for five  days, and although she had never been the type to enter into a purely  sexual relationship there was a first time for everything. She just had  to keep things as light and breezy as he did. No intense emotions, no  second-guessing herself at every turn. Just...fun.

* * *

Miller stepped from the car and smiled at Mickey as he held the door  for her. Mickey was everything she'd expected-large, fit, and capable of  lifting a small house with his bare hands. The fact that he was also  capable of purchasing women's clothing didn't bear thinking about.

The pavement outside the swanky Collins Street retail outlet was lined  with photographers and fans, all of whom quickly lowered their cameras  as soon as they saw that she wasn't anybody special. Glad for once not  to be part of the in crowd, Miller quickly turned her eyes to the burly  security guards who stood either side of the short red carpet.

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 double 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.