Living the Charade(30)

'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.